#but i miss the days when the mature way to deal with a stranger pissing you off was vagueing where they'd never see it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

broiunno · 3 years

Text

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

74 notes · View notes

burgerpocalypse · 3 years

Text

I've been trying to run through some free games I got from the Epic game store, specifically Grand Theft Auto V, Creature in the Well, and most recently Night in the Woods. I quit GTAV about 60% of the way because it sucked, and I can't beat the last area of Creature, so that leaves me to talk a little about NitW and the emotional turmoil it gave me.

Upfront, I'm not interested in games with heavy emphasis on story, least of all visual novels or whatever you want to call this game. However, I've heard mostly positive things about Night in the Woods here and there for the better part of the previous decade. That and the fact I got it for $0 convinced me to finally try it out.

Night in the Woods is an adventure focused on exploration and character drama. Mae Borowski, the protagonist, is a college dropout that just moved back to her Rust Belt hometown for mysterious reasons, and becomes entangled in suspicious happenings. The player will traverse the aged suburban sprawl and rural outskirts of Possum Springs, conversing with family, friends, strangers, and everyone else, uncovering secrets and opening wounds along the way.

Seeing as how Night in the Woods is primarily a story, I'll mostly be discussing that, so look out for spoilers, yo.

After spending two years away, Mae attempts to reconnect with her previously closest friends Bea (an idealist goth whomst had considerable familial and financial responsibility thrust upon her at a young age), Gregg (an anarchist punk with bipolar tendencies), and Angus (an incredibly nice man). Mae pushes the story forward by hanging out with Bea and Gregg, and sometimes Angus. This will often involve going to social outings, running errands, committing crimes, and so on.

Other than her friends, Mae will also have opportunities to interact with her parents, various citizens, and vagrants. whom provide flavor and history to the world while also bringing some of Mae's muddled past to light. The player will traverse environments through walking and jumping around, with the occasional platforming feat required to progress or access certain areas. Occasionally, you'll be presented with small minigames, like a Guitar Hero-clone or red light/green light shoplifting, and a game-within-a-game dungeon crawler that pissed me off to no end. While most activities in the town are benign, certain important events will move the day along and lock you out of further exploration.

Early on, Mae's group stumbles upon a discarded arm and some cryptic dialogue from a few characters. After each day, Mae experiences strange dream sequences that involve platforming segments and surreal representations of her friends and the town. Several hours of gameplay later, Mae witnesses a kidnapping on Halloween by what appears to be a ghost.

In the midst of all this, Mae hangs out with her friends and discovers what they've been up to in her absence. Bea runs the family business for her father, who broke down after her mom died, putting them in dire financial straits and preventing Bea from leaving Possum Springs; she bears resentment towards Mae, since she dropped out of college and came home for no apparent reason while also not maturing at all. Gregg is aimless, sporadic, and uninhibited, while his boyfriend Angus is neat, tidy, and overly helpful. Their relationship appears strong, and they are planning to move to a new city together, though Bea is convinced it won't last.

Mae does her best to strengthen bonds while suffering from a variety of stressors, like her family's money troubles, her self-destructive tendencies and dissociative episodes, and ominous celestial beings invading her mind. This sometimes leads to inadvertent and painful social situations, especially with Bea.

Mae attempts to investigate the supposedly supernatural happenings with the help of Bea, Gregg, and Angus, while her mental health steadily declines. Eventually, the group travels deep into the woods (at night) and stumble into a cult, after which Mae suffers a great fall and enters a coma. After waking up, Mae then attempts to confront the cult head-on, though her friends arrive to help. They enter a cave, find the cult again, discover the eldritch horror they serve and explore her personal connection to it, accidentally cause a cave-in and trap the cultists, escape the cave, and try to make sense of what happened after the fact.

Now, don't get me wrong. I rather enjoyed Night in the Wood's story. I really liked all the characters. I loved the dialogue. Even the platforming and various minigames were fine, if simplistic and occasionally annoying. The structure of this paragraph seems as though it's leading towards a big 'but'. I just wanted to say that I really liked the game, even though I don't generally enjoy video game stories, and especially not video games primarily about a story. Though I'm not from a run-down midwestern town, and obviously don't have the same sort of personal relationships she does, Mae's emotional strife and insecurities really resonated with me. Her personal thoughts and reactions often made me just stop and think about the many mistakes I've made with the people I care about and all the relationships I've ruined.

However, if the plot wanted to spend so much time on Mae and her friends, it should have been about Mae and her friends. Conversely, if it wanted to be about a spooky cult in a small town, it should have spent much more time on a spooky cult in a small town. The plot is torn between two diametrically opposed focuses, those being Mae's struggles to maintain relationships and her dealing with suspicious supernatural occurrences in Possum Springs. So much time passes before anything really happens with the cult and cosmic horror that I feel some people might even forget there is a cult and cosmic horror, and Mae isn't just experiencing a psychotic break for no reason.

In the end, the cult goes unresolved, and it's unclear what the relationship is with the residents of Possum Springs, or what its powers even are. I don't need the game to explain every aspect in detail, but no one appears to be affected by the existence of the cult and its god other than Mae. My brain was going into overdrive looking for clues, making patterns, identifying red herrings, anything that might help me understand the mystery, when in reality there was no mystery to understand.

There is also a severe lack of actual choice or decision making in terms of dialogue, and a distinct absence of any real challenge in gameplay. I definitely felt that this story could have been more efficiently told if it were in a book, usually after spending a few minutes walking around trying to find something important and

It doesn't help that I sometimes accidentally skipped certain segments, since it's not always explicitly clear if an action will push the day forward and lock me in. I even completely missed a third of the investigations since I chose to check out the historical society building with Gregg second when the game expected me to do it last. This sort of problem led to me giving up completely on other story-focus games like Kentucky Route Zero since I constantly skipped and missed chunks of stuff or did things out of the intended order and ruined the flow of events.

Now this has obviously gotten a little too long, so I'll just wrap it up by saying that Night in the Woods is great and I recommend it. It made me feel feelings, deep feelings, like I was moments away from crying on more than one occasion.

Thanks for reading. I have a lot on my mind because of this game, so I hope it was worth your time.

#night in the woods #nitw #mae borowski #video games #review #coyote

69 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part III. (Harry Styles)

hello dears! i wanted to have a few words before this part. i would like to kindly ask you to give the chapter a like and/or a reblog if you enjoyed it, or reply on the post or even just send me a feedback through asks! these are the only forms of feedback writers have on here and it’s really hard to maintain your motivation to keep posting when you see your work being ignored. getting up the numbers and spreading our work is your way to let us know that you read it and like it, so please be so kind to use these tools! writers post their work for absolutely free for you to enjoy, pls take the time to get back to them! it means so so soooo much to them, im telling you! even just one comment can make the day of the creator!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

A few tequila shots and the sound of some stranger’s horrible attempt at karaoke is exactly what you need when you get off work that Friday evening. Luckily, Steven invited you along with a few of his friends to have a drink just a few days ago and you gladly said yes. You and Steven have always gotten along so well and it made Rosa happy to see two so important people in her life be friends, so it wasn’t weird that Rosa was staying home with Valerie, you knew quite a few of Steven’s friends and they all seemed like cool people.

He told you beforehand that Harry would tag along as well so you could brace yourself to try this whole “let’s be nice to each other for the sake of Val” thing you and Rosa talked about earlier. She said she has mentioned it to him as well and he seemed to be open to the idea. You could only hope he didn’t just try to get her off his business and truly means to change.

Arriving to the bar you easily spot your little group of people and sliding out of the booth Steven greets you with a hug.

“So glad you are here!” he smiles at you and everyone slides further into the booth so you can sit at the end, saying your hello to everyone around the table.

The waitress comes up just a few minutes later and you order a tequila along with a beer.

“You are letting loose tonight?” Andy, a colleague of Steve asks with a smirk upon hearing your order.

“I deserve it and it’s just the start!” you tell him making everyone laugh.

Your shot glass is emptied out and you’ve stared on your beer by the time Harry arrives to the bar.

“Hello everyone,” he waves around and asks for a free chair from another table and pulling it to the end he is basically sitting next to you. “I see you’ve started the party, Y/N,” he chuckles eyeing the shot glass and you just shrug your shoulder with a smug grin.

He is wearing a black shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, letting you get a glimpse of his tattooed chest and necklaces. You don’t admit it to yourself but your eyes linger on his chest a tad bit longer than you intended.

Harry orders a beer for himself that arrives in just a few minutes and you notice how the waitress was basically was pushing her chest out while talking to him.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks him with a charm smile, her red lips stretched almost up to her ears.

For your biggest surprise Harry looks at you upon her question.

“Do you want to have a shot with me as well?”

The girl looks at you with a dirty look that screams jealous and for a moment you don’t even know what to answer.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you nod.

“Then two tequilas, please,” he tells the waitress before she walks away, glancing back at him one last time, but he pays no attention to her, clearly. “Hope you take it better than champagne,” he teases you, but this time it feels more like a simple joke rather than an attempt to piss you off.

“We’ll see,” you tell him with an innocent smile. The change in him is obvious, it seems like he did take Rosa’s advice and a new chapter is about to start where the two of you are not planning the murder of each other anymore every time you meet.

You take the shot with Harry easily, the alcohol burning down your throat and as any responsible, mature adult would do it, you wash it down with some beer. The perfect recipe for a killer headache in the morning. Your little group is having quite the fun, would have been a shame to miss this evening with them.

It seems like Harry is making a real attempt at being nice to you, he is your partner every time your glass empties out and you head to the bar to get another one.

“Look,” he tells you pulling his phone out of his back pocket and a picture of Val appears where she is wearing a onesie that has pumpkins all over it, it’s got to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God!” you gasp tapping your hand to your chest. “She is literally the cutest.”

“I know, I got her the onesie, it’s so soft,” he tells you happily before taking one last look at the photo and putting his phone back away.

“Hey, what happened to those matching stuff you called me back then?” you think back to the phone call the two of you had not so long ago.

“Oh, didn’t buy it.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t have your size.”

“You didn’t buy the set because of my size? You could have gotten me just a larger one or something.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to fit perfectly. Doesn’t matter, I’ll find another one.”

Harry turns to Andy who is telling a crazy story of the last time he went hiking and your tipsy eyes linger on him for a little. You were definitely not expecting him to not buy the set just because they didn’t have your size, but it’s nice that he was thinking of you and wanted you to have it just as perfect as him.

Harry catches your eyes and you don’t turn away. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the magic of this new, nice era of Harry Styles, but you let your gazes lace together as he smirks at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you tell him absentmindedly and turn to Andy to hear the ending of the story.

The evening is a blast and you are having an amazing time. It’s nice that you don’t have to worry about Harry saying something awkward about you, the two of you are getting along pretty well.

You even sing a song together at the karaoke machine, though you don’t see yourself, you know the two of you look ridiculous, singing Avril Lavigne’s What the Hell from the top of your lungs, both of you probably more drunk than it would be decent from mature adults. But you couldn’t care less.

It’s way past midnight when you decide to leave and Harry tags along with you saying that he is taking the same train.

“Shut up, I did not!” he narrows his eyes at you as the two of you sit in the deserted carriage, only two more passengers are there but they don’t even care about your existence.

“I’m telling you! You were shaking your ass when you sang that line! Almost twerking!” you laugh letting out a snort as Harry is trying his best to hold his smile back while defending himself. “I wish I had it on camera!”

“But you didn’t so it didn’t happen,” he tells you pointing his finger at you in a warningly manner, but you just start laughing even more.

“You wish, Styles,” you huff and he just bumps his shoulder against yours.

You pull out your phone to check the time and see that Marcus has texted you a couple of hours before, asking if you are free next weekend. Harry tries his best not to peek at your screen, but he just can’t stop himself. Seeing the name he can’t stop himself from letting an annoyed growl out.

“You’re still in touch with the guy from the blind date?” he nosily asks and you lock the phone, thinking it’s best if you reply in the morning when you’ll be able to type your words out correctly. Sliding it back into your bag you turn to face Harry.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just genuinely don’t know why you are even trying.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with a grimace. “Why wouldn’t I try to meet guys?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You told me all about how you need to feel that special connection with someone to date them. I bet my life that you did not feel that with this dude.”

“What do you know about what I feel?” you snap at him, feeling your anger building up quickly.

“Because… I know you,” is all he says but you can only laugh at his words.

“You know shit about me, Harry.”

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head protesting.

“Stop pretending like you know me just because I told you stuff when I was drunk and then slept with you. Why can’t you fucking forget about it all?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been naïve and think that he could change in such a short time. It seems like he is still the annoying prick he has always been.

“Because it happened, Y/N! Whether you acknowledge it or not, it happened, and if I’m being honest, you talked a whole fucking lot that evening so excuse me if I think that I know you.”

He is clearly getting irked too, at least that’s what makes the two of you. The urge to hit him is slowly returning into your limbs and you have to keep your fists in your lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not perfect when I’m drunk and it was an inconvenience to you to have to deal with me!”

Looking up you see that the train is nearing your stop so you slide out of your seat as you look down at Harry.

“Why the fuck did you even bother to pick me up then? I’m sure you could have gotten with any of the bridesmaids. Was a shame you chose to ruin my life with that night,” you spat at him as the train stops and the doors slide open. It’s clear Harry has a lot to say, but you just simply flip him off and get out of the carriage, heading to the exit with long strides, fuming and raging you even thought for just a moment Harry has changed.

***

Just like the majority of the population, you consider Monday to be one of your biggest enemies, especially when you have spent the whole weekend trying to sleep your hangover off. You really shouldn’t have went overboard with the shots, but it’s always easier said than done. You don’t try to make yourself believe it won’t happen again, because it will surely do. Lately it has occurred to you that you might have a slight problem with knowing your limits when it comes to alcohol. It’s not that you are an addict and seek every possibility to chug down something in secret. It’s more about knowing when to stop when you are at it. It’s so hard to judge when you should draw the line and not have another one when you are having such a good time! You’ve heard endless sermons from your mother when you were younger and ended up coming home a little more hammered than what fitted her taste. She wasn��t completely against drinking, she believes it’s a nice way to ease your nerves and has been having drinks in the evenings herself, but she has a strong opinion about going overboard, something you’ve been struggling with.

“Guys find it disgusting, Y/N. Know your limits or no guy will stay with you if you can’t stop yourself from knocking yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes at her then and you roll your eyes at her now. As if a man has a word in what you do!

Sitting at your desk you find yourself checking the time every ten minutes, longing for your lunch break already, but time seems to be passing extremely slowly on this miserable day. You basically jolt up from your chair when the clock strikes 12 and head out of the building to find a place to eat. You were certainly not in the mood to do any mealprep for the week ahead so now you are stuck with having to eat out.

There’s a sandwich bar down the street and you refuse to go any farther just to have to walk back after lunch. Walking in you are happy to see that it’s not jam-packed yet, but knowing well how it goes in lunch time, the seats will surely be taken in no time. Walking up to the counter you order a turkey sandwich with a lemonade and take a seat at one of the smaller tables in the back, putting your bag to the empty chair and leaving your phone on the table next to your plate you start scrolling while eating.

Just as you expected, people start to flow in pretty soon and all the empty seats get taken. You’ve just scrolled past some funny cat video when you glance up and almost choke on your food.

At the counter, back facing you, but you already know his figure enough, stands Harry Styles, hands stuffed into his pockets as he is checking out the sandwiches behind the glass.

“Unbelievable,” you growl to yourself as you try to turn so you are hidden somehow behind the plant that’s besides you. Peeking from behind its leaves you try to keep an eye on him without being suspicious.

Harry pays for his food and flashes a smile at the cashier before turning around to find a place. Unfortunately, there are no free tables left, only seats here and there, one at your table as well.

At first you plan on pretending you don’t see him and pay he won’t recognize you either. After your encounter on the train last Friday you are not quite in the mood to have lunch with him. But then you see the disappointed look on his face as he searches for a free spot and your conscience can’t take it any longer.

Turning to face him you bring yourself out from behind the plant and wave in his direction. His eyes catch your hand in the air and a surprised look flashes across his face but heads in your way anyway.

“Hey, I didn’t even see you there,” he chuckles taking the seat that you just emptied from your bag, putting it to the floor next to you.

“Yeah, probably the plant,” you say awkwardly and he just nods placing his plate to the table.

“Do you come here often?” he asks upon starting his ham and cheese sandwich.

“No, though my office is near. I usually bring food.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Do you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was just nearby and thought I would stop by for lunch.”

There’s a long pause when neither of you say a word, just eat in silence though that conversation from Friday hangs in the air heavily.

Surprisingly Harry is the first one to break this silence.

“I… wanted to call this weekend to apologize.”

“Really?” It’s not that you didn’t want an apology, you were just definitely not expecting one from him.

“Yeah. I know I have overstepped quite some boundaries lately and… I’m sorry for that. I promised Rosa I would try to work on our…”

“Friendship?” you ask with a small smile. There’s not really a word for what the two of you really have.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nodding. “Look, I was drunk too, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Sorry for sticking my nose into your business. You’re right, I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on these stuff.”

You nod shortly, a sense of relief taking over your body. It’s nice to finally have your truth confirmed by him and it’s kind of ridiculous it took the two of you so long to actually have a nice, mature conversation.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“And I know I’ve been the one to tease you and pick on you most of the time, but I promise I’ll try to work on shutting my mouth from now on.”

You laugh leaning back in your seat, because this is surely way more than what you were expecting from him, but it’s still funny to hear it from his mouth. Never thought this day would ever come.

“I promise I’ll hold my tongue too. I want Rosa to stop worrying about us. She clearly cares about us so I wouldn’t want to be the reason why she stresses, she has enough on her plate.”

Harry nods in agreement and with that, the topic is considered closed. You have officially called it truth with the villain of your life, Harry Styles.

***

Valerie is watching the ducks in awe, as if they were the most beautiful creatures for her on this whole wide world. Her eyes follow them glide across the shimmering surface of the pond and pulling out your phone you take a quick photo of her before turning back to Rose next to you on the bench.

It’s a warm Sunday afternoon nearing the end of October, Rosa called you in the morning if you wanted to tag along for their afternoon walk and you happily took the chance to spend some more time with your sister and your favorite little niece.

“It’s so nice to get out of the house and go farther than just the supermarket,” she sighs, closing her eyes as she enjoys the warm sunshine caressing her face. You can tell she’s been losing sleep, Val just started teething and Rosa told you how fussy she’s been during the nights.

“The joys of parenthood,” you chuckle and she just huffs.

“Harry was over the other afternoon, dropped something off for Steven.”

“Uhuh.”

“He mentioned you.”

“Really?” you ask looking ahead of you, eyes glued to one particular duck as it nears the edge of the pond, then duckling out to the grass it sits comfortably in the sunshine.

“Yeah, he said you two had lunch together the other week.”

“Well, it’s not like it was planned, we just happened to be at the same place,” you correct her.

“Either way I’m happy you two are getting along.”

“It’s relaxing,” you admit with a soft chuckle. This worrying feeling you’ve been constantly feeling when someone brought Harry’s name up is finally gone from your chest. It’s nice to know you won’t have to avoid him at every event you run into him.

“So what do you have planned for the anniversary?” you ask her. It’s crazy it’s been three years since Rosa and Steven got married, which also means that it took exactly three years for you and Harry to put the past behind you.

“Uh, nothing?” she huffs with a grimace. “There’s not much you can do with a teething baby, you know? Will probably just have dinner together and if we don’t fall asleep immediately we can watch a movie.”

“Val is the only reason why you are staying home?”

“I mean, mostly, yeah.”

“I can look after her for a night, if you want,” you offer right away. It’s the least you can do for her.

“Nah, I can’t ask you that. I know how much you work and she wakes up at least two times during the night even on her best days. You need to rest too.”

“I have way more time to rest than you. You deserve a night off from your motherly duties.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, looking for any sign on your face that tells her you are not being serious.

“Absolutely. Just… give me a list of things I need to know and do and we’ll be fine,” you nod eagerly as you turn to look at Val. “Right, Princess? We’ll have a sleepover!”

Val just glances at you curiously, furrowing her tiny eyebrows before her attention is diverted by a falling leaf.

“She’s excited,” you tell Rosa and she just chuckles.

“Would you really do this for us?”

“Of course! It’s just one night, I can do one night.”

“You are literally an angel she sighs and hooking an arm around your shoulders she pulls you to her lovingly. This is what sisters are for.

***

Your body is basically buried under your favorite thick blanket, sunk into the plush couch as you watch a rerun from How I Met Your Mother, a warm tea on the coffee table. You’ve had a long day and you intended to go to bed early, but figured six is a little too early, so you got stuck with whatever the TV had to offer you, however you know you’ll be in bed by eight for sure.

Munching on some dried apple chips you let out a tired sigh when you see that you’ve reached the end of the bag. Tossing it to the floor you slide down lower on the couch when your phone buzzes somewhere under your butt. It takes you some time to actually find it and get a hold of it, but you’re rather surprised when you see you just got a text from Harry.

To be exact, he just sent you a photo. Opening the thread you wait for the attachment to load and when it does, you snort out loud.

It’s a photo of him with a ridiculously small, pink hat that’s probably for Valerie, but seeing it on his head as he is grinning widely into the camera you can’t help but laugh.

“Looking great, new fit?” you write him back and the little bubbles start moving almost immediately.

“Thought it was time for a change in my image. You like it?”

“Pink suits you well.”

“Thanks, I’ve been told that.”

You smile at the screen as another message pops up.

“I’ve been going a little overboard with the shopping for Val…”

“Never feel ashamed for that!”

“But Rosa made me promise the Gucci onesie was the last thing I bought for her.”

“You bought her a Gucci onesie??!?!! Harry, she is not even one, she will shit into that Gucci..”

“But it looked so cute! I had to buy it!”

“You need therapy, Harry.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

You have a witty comeback to make about how he has zero friends, but you don’t want to ruin the light mood with even the slightest possibility of sending him an insult he might take too seriously.

“You’re right!”

“Okay, now it’s your turn to send me a silly photo.”

“What?!”

“Come on, I sent you one, now you have to send one to me too!”

“Says who?”

“Me. Come on, do it!”

He is so childish, you think to yourself as you open your gallery and try to find something that’s silly but not too embarrassing either. You find a picture back from April when you were having a grimace contest with your cousin’s kids and someone snapped a picture of you with puffy cheeks and crossed eyes. You hesitate for a moment but then send it to him anyway.

Waiting for his answer you turn your attention back to the TV until your phone buzzes in your hands again.

“I said send me a pic of you, not a hamster!”

You gasp at the mean but also funny reply. He surely didn’t shy out from insulting you, unlike you did.

“Oh, fuck you, Harry!”

You almost instantly regret sending that to him, because you know what his answer is to that every time it leaves your mouth. So you are already bracing yourself to receive that “you already have” text… But it never arrives.

“Jk, you look cute. But don’t cross your eyes too much, would be a shame if they stayed like that.”

“And why is that?” you find yourself typing back.

“Don’t let those pretty eyes go to waste.”

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp @perspnhel @http-cherries @h-arrystyles @just-damn-bored @millennial-teenybopper @sarcasticallywitty15 @gwen-and-harry @perfectywrong @do-youseeme

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles series #harry syles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

532 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|seven.

chapter seven: yellow roses

↳ flower meaning: jealousy, infidelity, apology, broken heart, intense emotion, dying love, extreme betrayal

Pick one.

chapter summary: dried flowers on walls and ‘dirty’ dancing

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty? just a bit, fluffy, mentions of sex

word count: 8.1k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles six: in which y/n wakes up and Tom doesn’t.

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Tags aren’t working so yeah. Sorry for posting late. I am too busy with school, and my job and life and yeah so I hope you enjoy it.

Tom woke up alone. He thought he wouldn’t, for the first time in months he thought he’d finally wake up by her side, kiss her cheek, pull her close to him and nuzzle into her hair as he asked for five more minutes of sleep. He hadn’t, and that had bothered him, just a little.

No, it had bothered him a lot. To wake up alone when you expect not to, hurts. So damn much. Because he didn’t know the reason for it now.

Of course, she probably hadn’t run away, he thought. Maybe she’d woken up early to get her morning tea, or maybe she was making breakfast or whatever y/n did now. Did he still know her? Did he know her routine?

He knew she had changed. He had expected her to, of course. He had, too. In a good way. Well that was what he thought or liked to believe apparently.

He wondered why she had never called, not once. He thought about doing it, several times. Had it ever crossed her mind? To call him? Because it had crossed his mind, every day.

Of course, his friends had stopped him from doing it, and Harry, Harry had stopped him from doing it.

“I want to call her,” Tom had stated once.

“Don’t, she did this to give you some freedom, so you could heal.”

Freedom that turned into severe loneliness. Tom had never really experienced it, and though he was not alone, he had felt lonely. Sometimes he couldn’t quite understand why, it’s not like before they dated they were that close.

Or were they? And had Tom never truly acknowledged how important to each other they were? Because of course he knew she was important but he hadn’t realized how much she had influenced his life.

For better or for worse, that is. Not always the brightest side. But… she was there. And for those months, she disappeared. And it wasn’t like when she had disappeared after that club night. At that time, Tom had tried to reach out, subtly.

Had she felt this way? This heart-clenching way? Tom didn’t understand why he had felt so lonely. How they’d gone out to bars, and the music didn’t cheer him up, how he had walked through the crowded streets but not a single person seemed to notice. How his friends would laugh but he couldn’t even get the joke.

He missed her. Because she’d always been there, one way or another.

And now she wasn’t there by his side to kiss him good morning, she wasn’t there to run her hands through his hair while she gave him a shy smile, and the sun was pooling her whole bed, and thought it was warm, Tom still felt cold and like a stranger in that bedroom. Bedroom that he hadn’t stopped to take a glance at.

He knew y/n was so dramatic and chaotic and always, always, always made everything for the aesthetic and for her big drama show. Her room was her set, he knew, the place where her secrets hid.

He wondered what had happened to Tim’s box, and it was nowhere to be found. There was no box in sight. The Polaroids weren’t the usual y/n Polaroids. She had some with James, and her parents. But most of them were from different places.

He could see some Polaroids from New York, even one from Rome but most of them were new. Most of them had flowers.

That was her latest theme, it seemed. Flowers. Flowers taped to her wall, flowers in her nightstand, near the small mirror. Flowers.

Which seemed so very like her, Tom thought. He saw her dried flowers and they seemed oddly familiar but he couldn’t quite figure out where from.

He continued scanning her room, it made him happy there was absolutely no trace of Timmy in that room. There was no sight of Tom, either, whatsoever.

Well, maybe there was. Because there were pictures of New York, of Rome. Not sight of him but it was subtle. Very subtle. He saw the vinyl he gave her about a year ago on her birthday. Which made him think. Just a year ago, Tim had planned the perfect party for y/n. A year ago, Tom thought he had lost his chance with y/n, for good. A year ago, Tim had been the one that made y/n: “The one that got away.” Of course, not now, but it seemed that Tim really had been y/n’s endgame. Of course, Tom didn’t believe that now. But he was still not fond of the fact that his… that y/n was sleeping next to that man, literally, since their rooms were just right by the other.

That pissed him off. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much if he was sure y/n loved him. But thinking about it just… bothered him.

Tom had felt so lonely. So lonely and he had needed her so badly. And waking up without her one more time hurt. But he knew she probably was out there, making breakfast, or working on something, maybe gushing to Emma what had happened.

He couldn’t think of why she hadn’t been there. That wasn’t really her thing, he knew, at least in New York she always waited until he woke up too. But he was probably overthinking. That was something Tom had learned while being apart. He had never really dealt with it, but he guessed that was what broken hearts do, they change you.

And he’d never dealt a heartbreak like that one before, not that harsh. Maybe that was why he felt lonely again in her bed.

This breakup had felt like it had been for good. He hadn’t told her about that, and they probably still had to talk about it, but Tom had really felt he had lost her forever. Because they were hurt, because they were apart, and because their life had taken different paths. Because everything was different. But then he had the night before as the sole proof they had both missed the other.

He sat up and rubbed his face. Not wanting to deal with it, trying to get that thought out of his mind. So impossibly stuck there. But he was there now, right? But there was a lot they had to talk about, and maybe sleeping together could have been a setback. Except, he really thought it wasn’t, because it wasn’t sex. Yes, of course, it was passionate and hot and Tom probably wanted to repeat it. But it was intimate and their connection was still there. He knew it wasn’t having sex for the sake of sex. Though both of them had been desperate for it, he knew it wasn’t about the sex. It was more than that, so desperate, longing to touch the other as if there was a magnet pulling them together, bodies glued to each other as hearts synchronized in a sole emotion, fast heartbeats combined with short breaths and the sound of their names over and over again. And then so calm, and quiet, and tender, heartbeats getting steadier,

Nobody said it would be easy, and Tom was well aware it wouldn’t be. Not for now because there were still secrets waiting to come out, and conversations waiting to be heard, and tears ready to be shed. He wished he could skip to the part where they were happy, if that part was ever to be reached. And though it wasn’t simple, it was something that he aspired.

Though it was crooked, and he didn’t want to go there again. Not repeat the same mistakes they’ve done before. And so far it looked that way, from enemies who had to apologize, and who barely talked to desperately trying to hook up. He didn’t want to repeat history.

They needed a new one, one that didn’t end in a heartbreak. Not their heartbreak, at least.

He tried to look up for his clothes, his shirt was nowhere in sight. Though he probably knew who was wearing it. He knew y/n had a thing for wearing his clothes. He didn’t mind, he possibly couldn’t mind.

He walked out of the room, shirtless as he sneaked out of y/n’s room, he didn’t see her right as he came out, so he walked to the kitchen, she wasn’t there, and not on the couch. Her apartment was small, so it rubbed the wrong idea on him. Had she left?

And then he saw her walk out of what Tom assumed was Emma’s room. Or so he hoped it was her room.

Emma locked the door right after y/n had walked out.

“Very mature, Emma, very mature,” y/n whispered, rolling her eyes.

“What do you know, y/n? You also did something stupid.” Emma yelled from the other side of the room.

“At least I accept it,” y/n yelled back.

Tom chuckled slightly and awkwardly as he saw her, standing there against the door, wearing his t-shirt just like he had expected her to.

Y/N finally turned around to see him, she blushed instantly.

“Oh, hi,” she said softly, a smile spreading on her face.

“Morning,” Tom answered walking over.

She seemed nervous, embarrassed as she shuffled her feet, watching him. “Did you sleep well?”

He had, for that matter. For the first time in months he’d finally slept peacefully. He had slept, for that matter. Not once had he woken up in the middle of the night to stare at the moon. So dramatic and melancholic but he couldn’t help it.

He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close to him. “Hm,” he smiled, glance going up from her eyes to her lips. “Thought I wouldn’t wake up alone for the first time in months.”

She avoided his gaze. “Sorry, Emma—made some noise and woke me up and—“

“And you did something stupid,” Tom pointed out. “I can only assume I am stupid in that equation.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she smirked. “You’re stupid in every equation.”

He laughed, and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She smiled, as his lips continued to pepper her face with small and soft kisses.

“Tommy,” she whispered.

“Hm?” He travelled down to her neck.

“Stop,” she giggled.

He sighed as he stopped. “Hm, it’s only fair if you’re wearing my t-shirt.”

“I—It was the first thing I found.”

“In your room?” He pushed, laughing,

She blushed looking away. “Yes, all my clothes disappeared,” she stated, walking her fingers through his chest.

“How awfully convenient,” he smirked. She looked up at him and locked her eyes with his. As if both of them knew they had to talk and were avoiding it. Tom felt naked. And not for the fact that he was technically half naked and he was shivering each time her fingers brushed against him. He felt completely like his true self, he didn’t have to hide anything, but then again… they were alone. Even if Emma was on the other side of the door, they were alone.

“You’re doing it again,” y/n mumbled looking away.

Tom laughed with confusion. “What am I possibly doing?”

“Last night you gave me those same eyes and look where we ended up,” she pointed out.

He coughed, “Then with more reason I’m not stopping,” he smirked and finally pulled her close enough to kiss her. He felt her smile against the kiss. He pulled her and clumsily made his way back to y/n’s room, crashing against walls and furniture on their way.

Tom quickly closed the door and slammed her against the wall as he kissed his way down her neck

“Tom no wait—“she said.

“Hm, need a cold shower again?” He asked.

But she was pushing him away. “No, no, Tommy.”

He sighed, still pressing soft clumsy kisses behind her ear.

“Tom, no, really—We—“she sighed.

“What?” He asked, lips brushing against her jawline. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I was supposed to be angry at you,” she sounded disappointed at herself.

He finally pulled away. “Hm why?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” she whispered. It seemed like she was trying to get back into her senses, yet she still hadn’t let him go.

“I am,” Tom admitted. “But—what does that have to do with anything?”

She gulped. “Tom—we, we have to talk about it,” she sighed. “We can’t—“

“I know, we can’t keep avoiding it,” he bit his lip. “But maybe just— a few more minutes and we can talk about it on set,” he begged as he pushed her hair back.

“No,” she finally managed to get out of his grip. “No, no… no.”

“Fine, no then,” Tom watched her sit down on her bed.

“You shouldn’t be doing my script,” she stated, avoiding his gaze.

He rushed to sit down, taking her hands. “No, hey—But hey I want to, I really want to make something incredibly cool—“

“You don’t even direct,” she pointed out and watched him.

“I—Look, it’s my first time…. But Harry does, and I have vision and I am part of the story.” He took her hand.

“Tommy,” she whispered.

“Y/N.”

“And I know this kind of thinking brought us to our doom but I can’t—what if something bad happens?” She asked him. “you know Tom and y/n type of bad, our own particular way of screwing things up.”

“It won’t happen.”

“But if it does?” She questioned. “And you try to get back at me with the script?”

“I promise I won’t.”

“But you really have to promise it,” she pleaded.

“I promise y/n.”

She pulled her hand away from him and stood up, running her hands through her hair, stressed enough.

“No, you don’t understand Tom, this is my dream,”she sounded stressed. “this is the biggest dream I’ve ever had and I finally got a shot and I… I guess I forgot about it last night because I… Because…”she stared at him again. “I—Because I’m an idiot…. and I was blinded by the moment, but I never really—“she gulped.”I need you to understand this, you can fuck me up, if you hate me, like I don’t know, okay? But don’t fuck up my dreams, if this is your plan, if it-“

“No,” he stopped her. “Y/N—“

“No, no, listen to me,” she seemed stressed. “I don’t care if—You, whatever happened in the last few months,” she sounded hurt now. “Whatever happened or…”

The last few months? Tom was confused by that statement, whatever did she mean….

“Whatever happens… Just don’t fuck my script up, please. It’s my dream, and if you—“

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that.”

It hurt that she still believed Tom was only a weapon designed to destroy her.

“No, I know, I know,” she cleared her throat. “I’m—sorry, I—It’s… we still have a lot going on.”

Tom was angry then. Was she the one supposed to be angry? Wasn’t he the one supposed to doubt her? Because he didn’t.

Not entirely. Only… he understood she did have some reason to be upset about the script. Though he wasn’t sure how to tell her that he stupidly thought it would be his way of making their paths cross again. He knew their breakup had been hard enough to deal with and adding being apart and going different ways wouldn’t help. So his stupid mind decided to make their ways cross. Though he thought he hadn’t had a chance for it, but—He found it so easily. And if he hadn’t called he was scared nobody else would. The project was risky and different and not—not something people would like to dive into. Less if she was a debut writer.

But Tom didn’t want to tell her that. That had he not offered to be a director, there was barely any possibility of having it. He wouldn’t ruin it, no. Less now that he had actually had the chance to read the wonderful script she’d written.

He’d judged it. Yes, the first pages were harsh to him but then—Then he realized it, the character growth, the development and the story and how, like y/n had said in her letter, they were supposed to fall in love.

Though at times one may think that y/n—Valerie was supposed to end up with someone else, she couldn’t. It was Valerie and William. Tom and y/n.

“We’re not ready, Tom,” she whispered again. “And I know, how dare me to set back when I was the one to ask you to stay and the one to…” She cleared her throat.”To walk in the shower with you.”

“Yeah, but it’s… It doesn’t mean we have to either take a step forward or backwards,” Tom said. “I don’t think-”

“I know, I’m not saying not to acknowledge it, I mean,” she took a deep breath. “I mean what happened last night is just like our confirmation that yes, we still have… Well I still have feelings for you.”

“And I have feelings for you.”

“But,” she gulped. “I don’t think this whole… ‘Let’s make out and forget about it’ thing will work,” she pointed out. “We—look, I—Although I may be… although I am acting this way there’s a lot of things we need to talk about.”

“I know.”

“But…”

Tom frowned. “But?”

“Whatever happens while we are working on anything related to Dos a Dos we won’t give in okay? Not for good or bad,” she stated.

“Alright.”

“I’m talking about being strictly professional,” she continued.

“Okay.”

“No fighting,” she sounded cold.

“I know.”

“And also,” she coughed. “No flirting.”

Tom chuckled. “Hm that’s gonna be hard.”

She sighed. “So where are we going to go from this?”

Tom stayed quiet. It was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn’t healed, not completely. Maybe he hadn’t realized it until then, how he had avoided his pain just to be with her, and now that they were standing on that point, he didn’t know where to go. Why was this so incredibly complicated?

He looked around the room and stared at the flowers taped to her wall again, too familiar but he still didn’t get where from. Maybe the flowers only reminded him of y/n.

“Where do we want to go from this?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know,” she gulped. “And do we want to go together?”

Tom looked at her again. “I… well, I… I hope? Or… don’t you want it?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah it’s just.”

He feared whatever her next sentence would be.

“It sounds,” she looked down. “It sounds like a whim but… And it sounds illogical, doesn’t it? You and I, how after everything we’re still willing to try it. We’re too stupid, and…” She chuckled dryly. “And you know, I’m crazy, and you’re… Too stubborn,” she gulped. “And I don’t know if I want it, you know? For us to fall down another time, and let our pride and our immaturity win over us again, you know? I don’t think either of us can afford another heartbreak.”

Tom knew she was right.

“It seems like we are sentenced to fail,” she sighed. “But then again I know that if we don’t try it, I won’t be able to…” She squinted and chuckled. “Dunno, but I know that if I dared to ask you, neither of us would be able to move on, right?”

“I know I wouldn’t.”

“And I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and no cold showers would help to cool us down,” she conceited, making Tom chuckle, “and though it might be a mistake, it might be the best mistake I am willing to make.”

Tom smiled, slightly and sadly. “Yeah,” he gulped. “And if we don’t I’ll be glued to the phone waiting for your call or trying to stop myself from calling you, but end up doing it anyway.”

“That’s our problem, we’re always waiting for each other to make the first step and then we do take it, we both get scared,” she explained. “And though it makes no sense, and I really wished we both could either say yes or no, we both know it’s not simple.”

“No,” He gulped. “But maybe it does have some logic to it.”

“Hm?”

“You and I, I mean,” he gulped. “I mean, no matter how hard we try, I’m always drawn back to you, and no matter how hard we’ve… I mean you always end up haunting my dreams.”

“Haunting.”

“Like a ghost,” he chuckled. “And though it makes no sense, I still feel that whole stupid and cliché thing, my heart beats the same way as yours.”

“You’re so cheesy,” she blushed.

He leaned to kiss her cheek. “I know, it’s disgusting.”

She laughed. “Yes, you’re only giving me reasons to bully you.”

“But I actually,” he smirked. “Those aren’t my words. I must admit I plagiarized them.”

Y/N blinked watching him. “What?”

“Well, not really, but I did,” he chuckled. “But I do remember a certain Valerie saying it, ‘my heart beats to the same rhythm as Will and maybe that’s why I can’t stay away from him’”

Y/N instantly blushed. “Yeah, uh,” she coughed. “Yeah...Did she say that? Did-” She cleared her throat.

“Oh, yes she did, she very much did and I’m not cutting that off the script,” he teased. “It’s-”

“No,” she shook her head. “I--no”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

She chuckled. “Because it’s too cheesy.”

“Please, y/n, we’ve all known you’re cheesy, I mean the whole boxes things, the songs, the magical moments, I mean the polaroids, please y/n all you is cheesy but with class and aesthetic, just look around your room, that vinyl over there… the flowers hanging on your wall which-” Tom stopped. He realized it. Where he knew the dried flowers from. He knew exactly why they were so familiar. Tim’s instagram. He remembered the picture and the quote: ‘Morning Bloom’. He gulped.

“Yeah, I know, I’m cheesy,” Y/N chuckled.

But Tom barely heard her, he felt it. And… It could mean nothing. It could be nothing, of course. Tim loved photography and aesthetics and… It didn’t have to mean anything. It couldn’t, could it? But why had he been in her room? Was there a reason? He hated this. He felt a stab through his heart. It had to mean nothing. Right? He guessed he had to see how y/n reacted about it. It could be an old picture. But… it seemed to be the same flowers, but maybe y/n liked those and always changed them.

He had to ask about it, he knew but not right now. He didn’t want to have that answer just yet. But he needed the answer, and he wouldn’t be able to continue but of course, ruining that moment and pull a ‘Tom’ and walk out angrily and not explain anything to her would be stupid. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes. But god, he wanted to. Fucking Tim. Of course now he thought the picture was probably a way to shove it on Tom’s face. But…

“Tom?” She asked again, getting him out of his trance.

He blinked. “Huh? Yeah.. Yeah.” He gulped. “What?”

“I… asked if you were hungry?”

“Ah, yeah, right. Yeah.”

But he wasn’t, not after that sudden realization.

Emma, two rooms away from there, felt stupid. The night before had been so blurry. And she hadn’t really realized how much seeing Harry hurt her. Y/N had tried to understand the situation. How did you get to sleep with Josh?

Emma didn’t know, for that matter. How and what had led to that? Completely clueless. Of course Josh was attractive and he hadn’t hesitated on throwing his shot, especially because he’d probably been oblivious to the obvious tension Emma felt around Harry. Maybe Josh had chosen to ignore it. He had pointed out the tension between Tom and y/n, though.

“This is weird, but do you guys know each other?” Josh had asked. “Or did y/n/n and Tom know each other?”

“What gave it away?” Harry had laughed.

“Oh, you know, the fact they went from undressing each other with a glance and then trying not to cry every time they had any eye contact.”

But what about Harry and Emma?

One of Emma’s strengths was hiding her real feelings. She was so good at avoiding it. Probably because she wanted everyone to believe she was a tough bitch who had her life in control. Even if she was tearing apart.

Like she was the night before. That nerve wrecking heartache she was feeling all night each time she managed to look at Harry. She tried not to. Not a single word directed to him.

Emma was hurt.

Sometimes it bothered her that nobody could see how much she was drowning, as if she was seen just as a casualty from Tom and y/n. Everybody liked to forget she was hurting too. Not y/n, though. Y/N tried to get her to talk, and to talk about her feelings, and to mourn about it. She didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Only person she had been able to open up completely to was Harry, and we know how that ended. Emma was struggling because she really wished she could be like y/n, so forgiving or so stupid. Stupid enough to sleep with Tom and forget her sorrow, that is.

But Harry and her worked differently. Harry and her were talkers. Tom and y/n, according to y/n, barely liked to talk. Or that’s what y/n had said, in their short relationship, apparently, they were more...physical. And it seemed they still were.

Emma was nobody to tell y/n what she couldn’t or could do. And Emma had known that y/n would end up sleeping with Tom the moment she saw them hold hands during the movies.

Emma knew Tom was more about actions, for god’s sake no matter how stupid he was, he at least had already tried to talk to y/n, he had searched for her and he had, stupidly, of course, invited himself to the movies with them. Tom wasn’t playing. Maybe that’s why y/n was so dumbly smitten with him. If he wanted, he fought for it. The man didn’t think twice before doing something and sometimes it got him in trouble, but sometimes it didn’t, and well, it led him somewhere. At least he’d gotten laid.

Emma was very much like Tom. And she knew y/n was very much like Harry, in a way. Emma, too, liked to get what she wanted. But the truth is, she didn’t know what she wanted. Of course, last night she’d finally gotten laid. Though she had been all the time claiming she would, she had never slept with anyone before. She’d always end up thinking about Harry.

She didn’t know where she got it from, the guts to sleep with somebody else. Maybe it was her way of telling Harry that he’d have to fight for it, that hiding in the shadows and being shy wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed to fight back for her.

That’s what led her to sleep with Josh, she guessed. She had tried to see how far she could get flirting with Josh, trying to make Harry jealous until he exploded or did something. Emma wanted Harry to fight for her.

He hadn’t.

He had let Josh flirt with her and Emma flirt with him. Why was this so damn hard? Did he not want to fight for her?

That was the single poisonous thought that had driven Emma to sleep with Josh. She hadn’t told that to y/n, of course.

“I just needed to, y/n.”

That was half-true. She did need to. But of course, she didn’t want to explain that to y/n. Not really. Especially because Emma knew that y/n was to Harry what Emma was to Tim. So if y/n had reserved herself a little from telling her about Tim, then Emma would reserve herself from telling her about Harry.

Besides y/n’s choice to sleep with Tom was a thousand times more stupid than Emma’s choice. Emma had absolutely no feelings for this other guy and she was sure Josh didn’t feel anything either. It had just been one drunken one night stand. Nothing important. It didn’t matter.

But she guessed y/n had some points to herself to brag about. Y/N didn’t regret her night.

Emma had gone to take a quick shower, y/n had advised her to so Tom wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Emma would have to complain about them being loud, or whatever.

Emma, all dressed up and cleaned and trying to put on some makeup to hide the fact she hadn’t slept at all, walked out with a towel wrapped on her head. She heard y/n’s laugh coming from the kitchen.

She walked closer… and Emma saw it. The way they looked at each other, so, so, so in love and she finally understood y/n. Yes, she still thought she was an idiot but she understood it, and Emma was thankful Tim hadn’t been around to see it.

The way they were staring at each other as if they were having their very last breath and didn’t mind at all, like telling the other: you’re worth it, you’re worth my last sunshine. It was so ridiculously romantic, Emma wouldn’t normally be a fan of that, but she felt butterflies just from watching them. Like when you’re watching a movie and see the lead romance and long for it.

The way their laugh emerged into one and how they were trying to touch each other, not with lust but with curiosity. Not like one of those clingy couples you see on the street that are always glued to each other, no, Emma was even jealous of what they were having, hands so desperately trying to connect with each other. Magnetized skins. Not a single kiss, but it felt wrong watching them, they weren’t even touching in any compromising way. But they felt so intimate.

Emma realized it then, why y/n was so confused. Because Emma remembered how Tim looked at y/n, too. What did that girl have that had those two idiotic men so mermerized with her?

She didn’t blame y/n, no, she couldn’t. And Emma wished she’d seen the way Y/N looked at Tom before the engagement party incident. Then she wouldn’t have doubted her. Because the way y/n was beaming and shining and glowing near Tom was incredible. She wouldn’t have doubted y/n.

She’d doubted Harry, of course. That was the problem. Because why wouldn’t she doubt him? Even more now that she saw the way Tom was blown away by y/n. And how Tim was, too.

But when she saw Tom and y/n, she was reminded of her own love story, maybe the butterflies were caused because she recalled Harry, and staring into his eyes and smiling for no damn reason. Loving him for the sake of loving him. Giggling and having intimacy without even having to touch the other.

It mirrored Emma and Harry, just as they had become engaged. Making breakfast together, music playing in the background, Harry placing a sweet kiss to her cheek, her feeling like she was in heaven.

And she saw it now, the way y/n probably was in Cloud 9 as Tom said something to make her smile.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her smile that way. Because she’d also seen y/n with Timmy, their chemistry was undeniable. It made no sense how she was seeing her now with Tom when just a few days before she’d seen her laughing with Tim, a loud laugh and a wide smile on her face, after he had said the most stupid comment, yet y/n was almost on the floor, both of them making the same stupid jokes to bother Emma. Timmy and y/n were basically the same person, it was even pathetic how stupidly alike they were. Everybody had said it, for a reason, Emma knew how perfect they were for each other.

Emma had seen how Timmy was trying to flirt with y/n, he wasn’t subtle, and y/n did answer to his flirting from time to time.

But Emma guessed that’s not really how love works, or was it?

Emma could quite put her kind around y/n, but she understood why she didn’t let go off Tim either.

But Emma also knew that to get that smile from y/n, Timmy had had to fight. While Tom only had to show up, so simply.

Emma understood it, she wouldn’t let go off someone who made her feel...alive. Though that seemed stupid and cliché. But she’d seen a change just in two days y/n had… changed and felt. Y/N had cried, and yelled and now laughed.

Maybe Emma wanted that, too. She knew she could feel with Harry. But… Harry probably had given up on her. Maybe Emma had to be like Tom, and make sure Harry felt something, too.

“Morning, idiots,” Emma said before taking off the towel. “Thanks for not letting people sleep last night.”

Tom jumped and quickly turned to see Emma. “Oh-- Hi, uh, I’m sorry.”��

Y/N only side-eyed her.

Emma laughed. “So, you guys are a thing now?” She asked, and judging by both their reactions, she shouldn’t have. Both of them had only widened their eyes and panicked. “You know what, don’t answer that, but next time get… a hotel room or whatever.”

Tom and y/n blushed, y/n even coughed.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Tom pointed out. “Sorry.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You guys were busy.”

Tom blushed harder. “I’m… really sorry.”

“No, don’t be, as long as I get some breakfast which--” Emma frowned. “Pancakes, huh, y/n?”

Y/N looked up. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You guys are totally cliché,” Emma rolled her eyes.

Tom laughed. “It was my idea, sorry,” he shrugged.

“And you didn’t complain, y/n?” Emma frowned.

Y/N chuckled. “Why would I?”

“Why would she? It’s her favorite food,” Tom chuckled.

Emma smiled, slightly. Y/N was a mystery to her.

“So, did you guys get any inspiration for the movie?” Emma asked.

Y/N and Tom both watched her with surprise.

“From Dirty Dancing, idiots,” Emma rolled her eyes. “You both really-”

Tom chuckled. “Yeah,” he coughed. “I did, I did… Um, I need some 80’s songs, we, I’ve been thinking about it, the whole setlist for the dance and-”

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” y/n frowned, laughing just slightly. “That?”

Tom chuckled, and nudged her lightly.

“Oh, please, but you guys shouldn’t have any trouble with that,” Emma commented. “Y/N here probably knows more about the 80’s than Madonna or George Michael themselves.”

y/n chuckled nodding. “That might be true.”

“Might be?” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know everything about the 80’s.”

Emma grinned. “Besides, I know you, uh, okay, I might give you some ideas…” Emma bit her lip. “God, I know no 80’s songs, I know 70’s, that’s my thing, so if you guys ever need some 70’s advice, that’s my thing, but.. 80’s…” She gulped. “Uh, dunno, that catchy song um.. ‘I think We’re alone now’...”

Both Tom and y/n once again were awkward. Could Emma say something without making them feel awkward? It was so weird and stupid.

“Or not…” Emma finished. “But okay, so… thoughts on the script Tom, any big changes?”

“I thought of changing the name, not going to lie,” he said.

Y/N frowned. “Tom! What even to?” She nudged him.

“Dunno, the story of how y/n y/l/n broke Tom Holland’s heart and still has him wrapped around her finger,” Tom joked.

“That’s a very stupid name, it wouldn’t be marketable,” Emma pointed out. “But we could change it to the script that changed all the Holland’s lives.”

“It’s not catchy,” Y/N commented, she coughed. “I chose the name because its back to back in French, and it’s a dance step and it’s a-”

“Metaphor, like everything you do,” Tom finished.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not everything but… Yes, a metaphor and it’s a play on vis-a-vis which means face to face.”

“Alright,” Tom grinned.

“And dos in Spanish is… two.. so it’s just a play on words two.. To two…” Y/N coughed.

“Alright, so I need to know more about the metaphors,” Tom grinned. “My brain is to dumb to get it.”

“So... y/n, look I don’t want to ruin this adorableness or awkwardness you guys have but you’re meeting cast today and I don’t want you to be late, so, I need you both to get going, and stop being adorable, it makes me sick, and please Thomas, go get some clothes, don’t show up shirtless with the cast.”

Eventually Tom had left, and Emma had seen them both hesitate when it came to y/n saying goodbye to him. He did kiss her before he left.

Which left Emma and y/n alone to deal with the conversation, except y/n hadn’t stayed there, she had rushed to get ready. Leaving Emma alone with her thoughts again.

But she didn’t even have the time for it before her phone rang.

“Timothée,” she answered. “Why are you bothering me so early in the morning?”

He chuckled from the other side of the line. “You’re so nice to have as a best friend.”

“I’m a delight, I know,” she sighed. “So.”

“So you slept with Josh?” Tim asked.

“Oh, so you’re calling for that,” Emma coughed. “Thought you were going to ask about y/n first, that’s what you usually do.”

Tim gulped. “I don’t.”

“You know you do,” Emma sighed. “But yes, I slept with Josh, big deal.”

“You’re avoiding your feelings again,” he pointed out. “So do you want to talk about that, maybe?”

“No, I don’t,” Emma coughed. “Look, I freaked out and... Josh was flirting and then Harry did nothing to impede it and-”

“There it is,” Timmy sighed. “So you slept with someone to feel like you were liked huh?”

It seemed that a lot of people did that. Sleeping with someone because they felt like shit.

“You really can’t judge me, huh, you’re one to sleep with your exes when you know they’re-” She didn’t finish her sentence. It was too cruel to say it, and Tim was her best friend and he didn’t deserve that.

“They’re in love with someone else, yeah,” Tim coughed. “I know.”

“Well, what did you realize? Or did you only call to judge my actions?”

“No,” Timmy said. “I’m sorry, I want to help you out but seriously Emma you can’t keep avoiding it.”

“And you can’t avoid it, either, Tim, you are avoiding what’s actually happening and you haven’t tried to address it.”

“What do you want me to address?” Tim asked.

“Oh, piss off and ask away, I know you want to.”

Timmy stayed quiet for a bit, but then took the guts to ask her. “Has y/n talked to Tom?”

Could Emma tell him? Did she have to tell him? It was none of her business but at the same time she knew it was. It kind of was. Emma guessed y/n was too worried on what to do with Tom that she’d forgotten that she’d kind of given hope to Tim.

Did she have to tell Tim? Because she didn’t want him to be hurt, but he would be, anyways.

“They’ve talked, and I mean, he went out with us last night so...” Emma started, deciding on the way what she had to tell him. “You know how it is.”

Tim gulped. “I love her.”

“That’s your big realization?” Emma asked. “That’s not news.”

“No,” Tim sighed. “I just… We talked that night.”

“Oh, you did?” Emma frowned.

“Yes,” Tim coughed. “And--”

“What?”

“Well, she did say she would always be in love with me,” Tim said. “And...Well, it’s weird, okay? She said I had been the only man she’d ever fallen in love with.”

That wasn’t true. Emma frowned. “But-”

“Besides Tom,” Tim finished. “And that she… She didn’t believe that her and Tom could work out, that deep in her heart she didn’t believe they could work out, and that she was scared and-”

“Tim, look, I….” Emma didn’t know how to tell him. Because she had seen y/n and y/n was so in love with Tom. It was so obvious.

“I look, I know, I know she’s too blinded by Tom right now, but look, she was in love with him before she dated me, and I still… Like, I just need her to see that he’s not the right choice, you know? That sure, whatever, she always wanted to kiss him, but that’s not… Not what love is, you know? It’s about a deeper connection, and we… We had that, even that night, we were both so entranced with the moment, and it wasn’t…I just need a chance to prove her, you know?”

Emma didn’t know what to tell him. Because she guessed that’s what y/n liked. Someone to have some initiative, after all, that’s why Y/N had dated Timmy in the end because he had fought for her.

Which drove Emma insane, because why didn’t Harry have it? Why was Harry the one to wait around and do nothing? It made no sense. Because Emma needed him to, and y/n needed both of them to back away to have some time to herself. It was ironic, even.

Harry. Harry. Harry. He had left early in the night after he’d given up with Emma ignoring him. Yes, she had been harsh on him by ignoring him, probably. But did she have any other choice? She had been heartbroken, he had basically told her: I won’t be able to be happy because you’re not her.

It drove Emma insane. So, so insane. And sad.

“Yeah, fight for her,” Emma sighed. “Anyway… I need to go, I’ll see you tomorrow…?”

“Tonight, I’m coming home tonight.”

Was Emma too proud? But she wouldn’t beg Harry, she wasn’t one to beg, no, no. And she wasn’t the one supposed to beg, was she? Emma was fierce and strong.

And she had avoided Josh at all cost when they arrived at the studio. He had said hello but Emma had decided to follow y/n around instead. The cast would be there later, and Emma was thrilled. So was y/n. She thought she’d see y/n all over Tom, kissing again, but their attitude had changed back to the same cold attitude from the day before. Well, to everyone else, but Emma had noticed their glancing. Tom staring at her.

Emma didn’t look at Harry, but she did feel his staring. Harry was so stupid. Why didn’t he try to… say anything? He had said hello, and asked how she was doing but that was it.

“But okay, we have to--” Tom gulped. Y/N and him were talking about the script, as if no trace of their night before. “I mean, each song needs to… We need a choreographer but for sure we have to decide the songs, I mean you have some here but I think we can… Build more from it you know?”

“Yeah, I mean dancing is,” Harry coughed. “But we saw it last night in Dirty Dancing, though, how like… They build up from it.”

“Of course, but I think, look, the songs we choose really have to be... “ She gulped. “Like okay, there’s Valerie who’s friends with Robbie and they have this… Like the music she listens to while with each of them is different. But there’s like two Valerie’s.”

“The one who she is with William and the one with Teddy or Harry” Tom nodded.

Y/N bit her lip. “Yeah, in a way, look, uh, the music,” y/n said. “It’s got to have different tones, like different 80’s songs, Valerie, as we know, likes to listen to Rock n’ Roll, and…Robbie does, too. And well, both William and Robbie are somehow into music, you know?” William with his dancing and Robbie with his band.”

“But Robbie is rock n’ roll and William is… well,” Harry commented. “Of course, but music with William is-”

“Chaotic,” y/n added. “No, but the songs that we want to associate with William is the one they dance to, together.”

“Yeah, and y/n by her own has to have her own songs, you know?” Y/N commented. “And… then we have Teddy who is the outsider, the poet, who showed Valerie other forms of expressing herself… you know? Look the script starts with Valerie’s heartbreak, and then Teddy comes in, and she decides to dance again, you know, cheerful music, she starts so somber and then-”

“Okay but we could-- I mean, just an idea,” Harry coughed. “You wrote her Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” he commented. “I mean it’s Auli’i and Jordan… They both sing, so maybe…”

“I think I know where you’re going,” she smirked. “That would be cool.”

“So instead of dancing, they sing?” Tom said. “Yeah, better, only singing ”

“But they have to dance,” y/n commented.

Tom frowned. “Yeah but-- It’s better if the only one she dances with is William.”

“But she dances with Teddy, too,” Emma frowned as she finally chipped in. She knew where y/n had wanted to go with the script and these two men were too stupid to understand it. “It’s Valerie who wanted to be a dancer and always danced by herself but stopped trying to pursue the dream after her heart is broken, and then Teddy, though he’s not a dancer, they dance together clumsily because…”

“What?” Tom frowned.

“Please, it’s like in Dirty Dancing, right?” Emma said.

Tom blinked. “Dirty Dancing? But I don’t-”

“Didn’t you get it from last night?” Emma wondered. “What the dancing is meant to represent?”

Y/N coughed, awkwardly.

Emma thought it was too simple to understand, knowing y/n’s story, it was so simply to deduce it.

Yet, Harry and Tom were both watching the girls with confusion. Emma chuckled. “Okay, so Dirty Dancing is a coming of age film… Baby is embracing her sexuality,” Emma explained. “Even in the beginning she’s…Unexperienced, alright? The only dancing she initially knows is the dumb merengue lessons, and when she first dances it’s… Dumb and she doesn’t know how to, and then she’s exposed to the dirty dancing, which is exposing her to the sexuality, alright?”

Tom closed his eyes and chuckled. “What but this is-”

“Throughout the film,” Emma continued. “We see Baby exploring her physicality through dancing, and it’s not about sex, it’s about her discovering her womanhood, and her being fine with it, and it’s such a nice point of view to see the film, it’s through the woman’s gaze, you know? Because we see Johnny as the sex appeal, not her, you as the viewer are growing with her… she’s getting confidence over her body, and--She explores it while partnering with Johnny Castle, and how he’s experienced and she learns it from another woman, too, you know, like she’s being transferred her knowledge, and in their first dance, Baby’s developing sexual and romantic feelings towards Johnny- and it represents--”

Tom chuckled awkwardly again. “But okay, that’s Dirty Dancing, this is not--” Tom chuckled. “I mean I’m sure the dancing means-”

Y/N and Emma were not moving. Emma thought they had understood it.

“I mean,” y/n was shaking now. “Okay, well, you obviously know how the first dance scene with William and Valerie… first they don’t, though they want to... they just don’t dance together and keep screwing up.”

“Yeah?” Harry was so confused.

“And Valerie doesn’t feel comfortable dancing,” Emma continued, knowing y/n was too embarrassed to explain it to the boys. “And…then she dances with Teddy, and she’s cool, but--”

“I don’t get it-” Harry said.

But Emma was sure Tom had understood it by then. But it seemed that it had bothered him.

“But--” Tom chipped in. “So the only two people Valerie ever danced with are William and Teddy? And...Teddy was the first person she danced with?”

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

tag list @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81 @sentimentalquackson @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @tomzfrog @tomzfrog @tohollandback @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @everythingbooknerd @xapham @xapham @xapham @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez @healthyassdonut @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @marvelstuck @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @softholand @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @itstaskeen @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @localfangirlx @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @dangerousluv1 @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @unbelievableholland @peterporkpie @justanotherusername80 @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @milly7110 @milly7110 @rubberducky-jrr @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06 @sandtopearl @lala-florez @ohfudgeiamgorgeous @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @ @lowkey-love-loki @harrysleftchelseaboot @cosmicholland @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @oh-annaa @sip-portteam @herondale-snow-carstairs @t-holland2080 @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @unabashedlyhardkitty @xstarbae @xstarbae @tiredfeels @peterbparkerrwrites @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbemineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @chloecreatesfictions @primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @applenter @lovewolfspirit @viagracex @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid @pcterparxer @getthatfireexitdoor @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @peterbxrnes @the-crazy-fanfictionist @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @a-mnd @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo

214 notes · View notes

alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

Moments of Impact

Yuta x reader // SMUT, ANGST, fluff?, college student! Yuta, camboy! Yuta, virgin reader Summary: You got in an accident and Yuta waits for you to wake up. While waiting for you, he can’t stop thinking about the good times you’ve had together. Word Count: 6k Warnings: Sad ending, swearing, explicit mature themes, mentions of motorcycle accident, mentions of other idols, virginity loss Note: I have a few notes, hihi. - Everything italic and indented are flash backs. There are date stamps you won’t get lost. -This story is inspired by my favorite movie The Vow, if you haven’t watched it yet I’d definitely recommend it. It’s a beautiful film, inspired by true events. -Another inspiration for this story is Forgotten written by @upinthestarsx3 I will never forget that beautiful fic, so please go check it out! -Again, I apologise in advance if there misplaced words, etc.

Pulling up the blanket to keep himself warm, trying to fit his long legs on the small couch, forcing himself to get some sleep amidst the noice of busy nurses and doctors talking to people, Yuta tries so hard to get some rest. After doing two jobs everyday, Yuta always stays in the hospital lounge so somehow you can feel his presence. At least that’s what he thinks.

You’ve been in a coma for 3 weeks already but for Yuta it felt like its been years. He constantly blames himself for where you are now, blaming himself for not taking care of you enough. As much as he wanted to tell you “I told you so” he would rather want you to wake up and hold you.

He felt someone tap his shoulder while he’s staring at the blank ceiling. It’s your brother Mark, offering him some cheap tea from the hospital’s cafeteria. Mark is the only person in your family that he can talk to, maybe it’s because Mark was like a brother to Yuta. From the moment you introduced Yuta to your family, they quickly disagreed to your relationship. They thought Yuta corrupted you and that he’s using you for your money. After the accident, they were so mad at Yuta telling him he cant see you anymore. Of course Mark defended Yuta but he couldn’t change the decision of his parents. Now the rest of your family is mad at him, not letting him see you even after the surgery.

“Any good news?” Yuta asks Mark.

Mark shook his head, “at least she’s still pretty while she’s sleeping” Mark gets his phone and shows Yuta a picture of you sleeping soundly in the hospital bed. It hurt him.

In years of being with you, Yuta loved seeing you sleeping beside him or when you passed out on the couch after watching a movie. But this time, he never thought he would hate that you’re sleeping now. He closed his eyes letting his tears fall, remembering good memories of you sleeping.

3 YEARS OF BEING TOGETHER

It was a cold morning and you are snuggled beside Yuta, enjoying his warmth and his soft skin on you. Sleeping naked after having sex was not the best idea but you love how the both of you shivers under the thick duvet. Yuta pull up the covers over your head making the bed warmer, hugging you closer and kissing your exposed shoulders.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you teased him, hovering your leg on his side caressing his soft butt cheek.

Not saying a word, Yuta’s other hand intertwined with your free hand, while his other hand roams around your body, softly and slowly. You can feel his touch on your leg, drawing small circles with the tip of his fingers. Teasing and slowly going up to your waist and back, whispering praises how soft your skin is while his eyes are closed. You didn’t miss how he’s touching your breast carefully not to hurt you or make you sensitive.

“Sleep. I’ll see you in the morning beautiful” he whispers softly behind your ear.

After the accident, Yuta’s life turned upside down. The life he had with you was a life full of happiness even though you both have personal struggles. Unlike you, Yuta is not rich. He came from a good family in Japan, but not rich enough to provide money for both school and other expenses. You offered him a deal one day, where he can’t actually refuse. You told him you can provide food for the both of you and the rent money, so he can focus on saving up for his college tuition. He agrees, taking your offer and he pays you back by loving you deeper everyday.

You didn’t made that deal just for the sake of being domestic, but you made that deal because you hated the idea of different girls having sex with your man. Yuta was a camboy before you came into his life, a rather popular one. Knowing that he’s having sex with different girls around the campus or with a specific someone and then coming home to you smelling like a stranger, hurts. It’s not that you’re against with the industry he’s on, but what if one day you can’t provide what Yuta wants in bed and he became sexually frustrated because of you? You always fight whenever Yuta goes live and have sex in front of many people. He always says “baby the sex I have with those girls were for money. It’s my work. No love.” Usually the fight went on for days and Yuta is the one who always accepts defeat.

Now that you’re not present at the moment, he didn’t have much choice but to go back on being a camboy. Reminiscing all the fights you’ve have regarding this issue, Yuta thought he would rather fight with you everyday just so he can hear your voice again. Being a camboy can provide all of his needs. Food for everyday, pay for the rent, money for his college fees and your hospital bills.

“Dude, my family is packed. Crazy rich. Really you don’t need to chip in money for the hospital bills.” Mark nagged Yuta when he found out Yuta was the one who payed for some of your hospital expenses.

“But I want to” is all Yuta can say as defense to Mark. “Anyway Mark, thanks for the talk. I have to go to work now.”

“Work as in…” Mark questions Yuta, giving him a look. Yuta nods, knowing all too well that Mark knew that he came back to the sex industry.

“Ugh! Dude! She’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up” Yuta waves goodbye at Mark leaving him at the hospital lounge.

On his way to the hotel where he’s going to “work” he saw these cheap chocolates you always loved and decided to buy one, with the hope that maybe you would wake up today so he could hand you the chocolate. Yuta was never a fan of chocolates, but this chocolate is delicious and this is the only chocolate he could eat. But the thing he loves the most about this chocolate is its the reason how you two met.

THE NIGHT YOU MET

It was Jaehyun’s house party and Yuta was bored to death so he decide to creep in Jaehyun’s kitchen and eat anything he could find. He was hoping to see something instant that he could cook easily without catching too much attention in the kitchen. After looking for some time, he gave up and decided to look for snacks instead. He found this chocolate wrapped in gold on the table near the beers. So annoyed that Jaehyun’s house does not have anything instant, he’s not very happy that he found a chocolate and not something that will give him a good burp. To his surprise, it was fucking delicious.

“Who fucking ate my chocolate?” you screamed trying to be heard under the loud party music. “I left it here. I was just getting a cup, then it was gone” you were practically screaming in front of your brother Mark.

Yuta felt guilty because he basically stole your chocolate. He made his way out of the party and went to the nearest store and tried to look for the exact same chocolate. Not knowing how to approach you, Yuta was nervous not to mention he got intimidated by your beautiful looks. Waiting for the perfect timing, he follows you around the party waiting for you to be alone so he could talk to you. But instead, he admires how you look good in that dress, how your hair follows your every move, your smile can light up the party, your laugh is like music to his ears. He didn’t notice he’s growing a little crush on you.

After three bottle of beers, the chocolate stays in his pocket while he chats with his friends. You notice that he’s following you around, stealing a glance from time to time, you decided to follow him when he went to the bathroom.

You waited for him to come out, and by the time he does you were somehow amazed by how beautiful he is. Fair skin, pointy nose, his hair looks softer than yours.

“I swear I didn’t mean to eat it” Yuta blurted out.

“Eat what? Sorry. I was just going to ask you why are you following me?”

He gave you a beautiful smile, one that you will never forget. He handed you the chocolate, his cheeks are turning red and his eyes somehow got smaller. You wanted to shout at him, show him your rage but his smile somehow calmed you down. “You ate it?”

“Yeah. But I went out to buy you a new one. I’m sorry. If this isn’t enough I could-“

“Ask me out” you didn’t know where that bravery come from but it felt good. You can feel your heart beating so fast, your chest could explode any minute.

And he did. For Yuta, it was the best decision he made in his fucked up life. For you, Yuta was the cherry on top of your colorful life already. Both of your worlds were completely different but you didn’t have second thoughts on giving up the world you used to know for him. Same goes for him, he made you the sun and moon of his life. You’ve been together for four beautiful years, ready to graduate from college in a couple of days and finally go to Japan to meet Yuta’s parents, stay there for a couple of months and get married with or without permission from your parents. That was the plan. Leave everything behind and live in Japan for good.

But the accident happened.

“Hey” Charlotte snaps her fingers in front of Yuta, bringing him back to reality.

He sees Charlotte already half naked wearing only her lingerie. “Sorry. I haven’t have enough sleep” Yuta proceeds to take off his shirt.

Assembling the camera to go live in a few minutes, he tries to gather himself and focus on his work. He has been having sex with a heavy heart so his performance was a little down lately, but today he plans on putting up a show to raise more money.

Yuta was an animal in bed, but he is always gentle to you whenever you have sex. Not very vanilla, he still chokes you and spanks you from time to time whenever he’s in the mood to have rough sex. But he doesn’t degrade you and call you a slut which you think is hot. Even though you hate his last job, you still think he’s good at what he does because he’s always great in bed. That’s why you never want to share him with anyone.

Graduation came in, Yuta’s parents finally came and they were excited to meet you. Yuta didn’t have the choice but to be honest with his parents and that he’s not going back to Japan with them as planned. It broke their heart but they understood that Yuta is struggling too.

After graduation, Mark somehow convinced his parents to let Yuta visit you, it was a tough battle but Mark made it possible. He was so happy that he can finally hold your hand again and be beside you while he waits for you to wake up. You didn’t know but you graduated with honors and Yuta was the one who came up on stage to get your awards.

“Baby, at least I get to experience receiving an award even though its not mine” he laugh while his tears fall continuously. He was admiring all your hard work over the years reminiscing some moments, reminding you all the sleepless nights you’ve had, every project you needed to redo, Yuta witnessed it all. He was so proud of you but he couldn’t show it enough because of your current state. “Graduation was sadder than I thought, Imagine I wouldn’t have to see Jaehyun and Johnny’s face everyday. I never thought I’d miss those fuckers” Yuta was tucking you in bed, making sure your comfortable before leaning closer to you, lips almost touched. “Congratulations to us baby, we made it” and he kissed you sweetly, careful but full of love.

Yuta continued to visit you in the hospital and he tries being with you as much as he can. Talking to you about almost everything even though you still show no response, for him it’s better than staying silent. He finally talked about how he got back to being a camboy again because life was hard for him when you got into the accident, but he’s finally looking a job as a college graduate and talks about it proudly.

He was so used on taking care of you, the nurses were surprised that Yuta was the one cleaning you with a warm damped towel and changing your clothes whenever he can. Of course the nurses thought Yuta was cute.

As time goes by, your parents saw the sincerity of Yuta towards you. All Yuta did was love you like he normally does even though you’re still in deep sleep. With that, Yuta didn’t expect your parents to be moved by his gestures and how he takes care of you. It was a bold move for your parents to talk to Yuta in front of you sleeping, hoping that you could hear every word they said to Yuta. “Baby, did you hear that? All is well now. We can finally get married without hurting your parents” he left a kiss on your left hand. Still no response.

One fine day of looking after you in the hospital, Yuta decided to take a peak at your journal out of curiosity. “Baby, I’m sorry I’m reading your journal now. Its just I’m so bored and I miss you so much” as he flips through the pages his eye caught this special day or rather fun night with you that he will never forget. It was the night when you two had sex for the first time, and the night Yuta took your virginity. He reads it with enthusiasm letting out soft and loud laughs whenever he reads something funny that you wrote. “I was tired, but I want Yuta to feel good” he read it out loud, the exact words written in your diary. “Baby, I wish I could turn back time just to tell you, you didn’t have to” he said while petting your head and goes back to reading.

2 MONTHS OF BEING TOGETHER

“What do you mean you’re a virgin?” Yuta teases you pretending that he doesn’t know that you’re still a virgin.

“Stop teasing or I’ll bite your dick off”

Yuta was still laughing because you were cute, “okay okay. easy” he pulled you close. “Mark told me actually” you shrugged by the thought of your own brother betraying you.

“You’re going to be the first and last dick I’ll be having. It sucks not being your first tho.”

“Someday, you’ll be my last” Yuta intertwined your hands on his and kissed you deeply like you always want to. But the first word that he said, still lingers in your mind. Someday. Maybe he really needed to work that’s why he can’t leave his job yet.

You pull away from his kiss, biting your lower lip while stroking his. You’ve been meaning to say that you wanted to have sex with him and you decided it has to be tonight. “I know you’ve been wanting to have sex with me” you breathed deeply, “and now I’m ready” Yuta cant believe what he just heard but it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t dreaming for this moment to happen. “You sure about this? It’s not that I don’t want to- Fuck I’ve been waiting for this to happen. But we’ve only been together for 2 months. I don’t want to rush you or anything”

Everything you heard from him is plain sweet. You can’t stop blushing and you couldn’t hide it either. He noticed that you’re being shy for a moment but he loves teasing and tickling you until you’re out of breath. While he was tickling you and kissing your neck at the same time, he absentmindedly touched your clothed pussy. You felt it through your thin shorts and you let out a gasp because of what he did. You two never went further than first base because you’re still this innocent girl in Yuta’s eyes and he respects that. “Sorry- uh, fuck I didn’t mean to touch it without your consent. It’s just, maybe because of my work baby. My hands are used to do it automatically-“ Yuta was rambling already but you were just looking at him with loving eyes. “Do it again?” you asked him spreading your legs a little. Hesitantly, he came closer to you slowly, caressing your exposed legs, asking for consent to put his hand inside your shorts. You nod.

It was a feeling like no other, you thought. One touch of Yuta’s finger on your wet slit made your eyes closed and pulling closer to him. Grinding your hips with his finger inside you, Yuta thought you weren’t innocent as he thought you could be.

He hovers on top of you making you aroused and needy enough to get wet. Kissing you softly and biting you from time to time. You keep your hands lock on his long hair, giving it soft pulls that made him moan. Whispering soft i love yous whenever you have enough air in your lungs.

Slowly peeling his clothes and your clothes off, you felt kind of shy when he got you on your bra and laced panties. He continues to kiss you softly and deeply, cupping your cheeks and drawing circles along your back.

“Just promise me, you’ll make me stop if something hurts. okay?”

“I promise”

Yuta unclasp your bra and slowly teased your left boob using his point finger. Careful not to touch your nipples yet, it makes you frustrated and needy enough. Kissing the valley between your breast, down to your abdomen, he removes your panties slowly his eyes not leaving yours. Blowing his hot breath on your soaked pussy, Yuta takes his time kissing your inner thighs and blowing on your entrance again and again, enjoying how you react on his teasing.

Parting your folds with his left hand and drawing circles using his right hand, you feel your pussy get soaked even more because of what Yuta is doing. You thought you could cum here and then but the moment he finally puts his tongue on your pussy, it felt so good you wanted to savour the feeling. When he finally see that you’re relaxing, he inserts his middle finger while licking slowly against you pussy. Adding another finger he makes sure you’re wet enough for his cock.

“Baby do you have anything in mind? Anything you want?” Yuta asks hovering you again while still playing with your soaked pussy. You shook your head “Okay. Just follow my lead, I’ll be gentle as possible” all you can do is nod.

He gets the condom beside the table and rolls it on his hard cock. By the time he’s in between your legs again, he’s slowly putting the tip inside your pussy. Pushing slowly and pulling out, again and again until he’s balls deep. You told Yuta that it hurt but you didn’t want him to stop. He became gentler than ever before being comfortable enough to move inside. He kisses you and whispers countless i love yous beside your ear while waiting for your signal to allow him to move. Your giggle making you gasps, you can feel your pussy stretched like never before “still okay?” he checks on you before he moves.

You accidentally clenched your pussy and it made him moan, you thought he was crying out loud. But he smiled and told you not to do that because that can make him cum fast. It feels good laughing while in the middle of having sex Yuta thought. He never felt this way before while having sex and he’s happy he get to experience this kind of feeling through you.

He kisses your boobs while moving his hips slowly. Making you moan and scratch his back because of the amazing feeling. Hands all over your body, Yuta can’t get enough of the feeling you’re giving right now. “Baby, you make me feel like a virgin again” Yuta whispered in between gasps while his working on slow deep thrust.

Surprised when he pulls out, he gently changed your position and making you bend on all fours. You were familiar with this position, feeling kind of excited by what Yuta is about to do next. He spreads you legs wider from behind, caressing your ass cheeks before giving it bites that made you whimper and wet even more.

“Not-so-fun-fact, but this is my favorite position” he whispers beside your ear and fucks you from behind. It was different than earlier you thought, this positions makes your mouth open and it makes you let out soft moans. “feels good?” Yuta managed to ask, you moan in response. This position hits different spots inside your pussy that makes you gasps and breath for more air. You finally understood why this is his favorite sex position.

After fucking you slow and deep for a good twenty minutes, now Yuta is pounding you in some sort of animalistic way, hearing him moan behind you. He grabbed both of your shoulder making you arch against his chest. You were startled by his sudden move but lust is taking over you now. He placed wet kisses on your cheeks hearing him moan when you try moving your hips on your own. “You’re the only girl that can make me moan baby, did you know that?”

Driven by lust and his love for you, he asked permission before he does something he’s sure you will love. “Baby, just say yes. You wont regret it” he said gasping for air while you still fuck back. “just don’t hurt me baby. okay, I’m ready” you answered trying to catch your breath, feeling your hips give up.

He encircled his right arm on your waist and his left hand on your throat, choking you. To be honest, you never thought choking would feel so good while he fucks you hard. Hearing only slaps of skin around the room, your eyes rolls back when you felt a knot on your abdomen. His hand on your throat does something to you that you can’t understand, but it feels good. He felt your pussy clenched again around his dick and you finally cum. Hard. But to Yuta’s surprise you were still moving your hips against him trying to overstimulate yourself. He was surprised by your sudden action, it made him catch his sweet release and he cums inside you for the first time.

“Baby stop, I have to remove the condom now” Yuta needed to convince you in order for you to stop moving your hips. Still against his chest and his arms encircled on your waist, you felt your high go down as Yuta place soft kisses on your shoulders whispering telling you to stop. After removing the condom and cleaning you up, he didn’t expect himself to enjoy pillow talks and cuddles after sex. Maybe because its you he’s sleeping with tonight.

“You were kind of wild for a vigin. Does it hurt?” He asked looking a bit concerned while snuggling you.

You scoffed, “how can you expect me not to act wild when you fuck me so good Nakamoto Yuta?” you kiss him to lessen his guilt.

“That was the best sex ever. Im afraid I will always ask you to have sex with me from now on” he’s kissing your neck now and checking your folds if you’re still wet.

“Can I ride you?” with wide eyes Yuta stopped what he’s doing completely in shock seeing this side of you.

Yuta accepts your offer and you rode him four times that night using him to go off again and again and again. He was already tired but the view of you bouncing on his cock was so addicting and the feeling of you doing all the work because its your request makes him happy that you’re comfortable with him.

“I didn’t know you are this wild and needy. I was going easy on you earlier.” he said catching his breath after his third release for the night.

“Its fine, baby. You did great earlier.” you said catching your breath too. You were rocking your hips again, teasing his cock and making him hard again. “oh - ah!- baby you’re going to be the death of me” Yuta complains but he’s gripping your boobs already, making you moan and so turned on. You move your hips again making Yuta crumble beneath you, it makes you proud being the only girl in his life that can ruin him like this. When he close his eyes and just let you do the work, when you’re the one making him beg for more, when he furrow his brows trying to stop himself from cumming, you thought about how these are only for your eyes. And you love him for that.

When you finally stopped and flopped on his chest, Yuta seized this moment to throw the condoms as far away as he can so you wouldn’t have to ask for another round. “Baby aren’t you tired? You do know that we can still have sex after this night right? There’s no need to rush” that made you laugh. You kissed him deeply and thanked him for a beautiful night. “I will never forget this Yuta”

After that night, you and Yuta have sex comfortably whenever you want. Pretty sure you had sex on every corner of his apartment. Sometimes if you’re both lucky Mark walks on the two of you having sex on the couch and all you do is laugh. Poor Mark. Whenever you’re needy, the two of you have a little quickie in Yuta’s apartment before going back to class.

And by the time Yuta finally quit his job, he never used condoms anymore whenever you have sex. It was also the time he decided you’re the one he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. On your fourth year of being together, he talks about marriage comfortably with you. The both of you started to plan out your future together, he said he wanted three kids but he doubts that you two will stop making babies.

2 MONTHS LATER

Yuta was waiting for the nurse to finish changing your IV fluids before talking to you alone like he does everyday. “Baby it’s Jaehyun’s birthday today. I’m going to his house tonight with the guys and you know have fun like teenagers.” Yuta jokes while combing your hair.

“Its Valentines day too so, I got you a present.” He opens a red velvet box beside him and put the ring on you. He was supposed to propose to you on Valentines day to make it extra special but unfortunate events happened.

“Will you marry me?” it broke his heart hearing you not say a word. But he knew you will say yes.

“Please wake up, so you could say ‘yes’ already, okay? I’ll be back tonight, I love you.” he kissed you on the lips leaving some tears on your cheeks and heads out.

Yuta was hesitating to set foot on Jaehyun’s house because this was the last place you went to before the accident happened. He tried not to think about what happened but he can’t help it. When Jaehyun finds Yuta on his doorstep, he was quick to hand Yuta a bottle of beer and told him to enjoy the party just like old times.

It was nice having fun after being so stressed and sad with life lately Yuta thought, he felt alive again tonight. Playing beer pongs, drinking beers with the guys, dancing under loud music. He missed being this alive.

He felt his phone vibrating, he got nervous and quickly looked for a quiet place to answer Mark’s call.

“Hello. I’m at Jaehyun’s its too loud everywhere. What’s up?”

“Hyung… She’s awake”

Yuta left the party immediately and rushed back to the hospital. Your room was crowded with nurses and doctors, and your whole family is present. When Yuta stepped inside the room he cant believe you’re sitting and talking in front of his eyes. But why does it feel like you’re not excited to see him? He felt scared when Mark brought him outside the room and told him he has something to say.

“Hyung… She remembers the accident” Mark breathes in deeply, “But she doesn’t remembers you”

In that moment he felt his legs give up on him as if it forgot how to carry him upon hearing the news. He felt a little dizzy but not because of the alcohol he had from the party. It’s too much he thought. He left Mark and decided he would like to be alone for a minute. Thinking of a way how he can handle his feelings when you finally saw him and you don’t recognise him.

After three cups of coffee at the hospital’s cafeteria, Mark talked to him again. Trying to be careful with his words, he tried to explain what you remember and what’s left with your memories about Yuta. Just like Yuta, Mark was heart broken.

“We asked her whats her last memory” Mark started, destroying the tissue in front him piece by piece. “She told us about the accident, but not in detail. And that her last memory before the accident is… our trip to Paris” Mark looks at Yuta finally, “And hyung… We went to Paris three days before you guys met” Yuta was feeling sick again, he wanted to cry in front of Mark.

“But” Mark added “she remembers tiny scenarios flashing in her mind, she told the doctor something about tattoos? Do you know something about it?”

For the first time at that moment, Yuta smiled. She remembers, but not entirely, but still.

“That memory was two years ago. She was forcing me to have matching tattoos with her but I didn’t want to because of my work. And she put up a fight, throwing everything she sees at me. She didn’t know that the work that I was talking about was my internship” Mark let out a small laugh hearing the story, how stupid of you for getting mad over matching tattoos.

It was quiet for some time, maybe the both of them are still digesting what’s happening right now. Nonetheless they were both thankful that you’re finally awake. Mark brought Yuta back to your room, and left him to face you alone. Not sure what will happen when you finally see him. It will hurt Yuta, but he wanted to see you already.

The room was cold and Yuta caught you shivering when he entered the room. He gave you his blanket that he kept in the room whenever he stays over and take care of you. “Hey” he greets you softly, “This is mine, you can have it” you took the blanket with a small smile. A smile that Yuta craves to see, and it made him fell in love with you again.

You don’t recognise his face but you recognised his voice. You sat while you watch him play with his own fingers. The air in the room became colder. You heard him clear his throat and you looked at him again.

“Do you want to say something?” you asked trying to get him comfortable.

“Do you know me?” Yuta asked even though he already knew the answer.

“No.. but your voice is something I hear when I was sleeping. Are you a nurse or something?” Yuta was glad that you can actually hear all that he said to you when you were sleeping. He chuckled and points at the small table beside the hospital bed. Just near the fresh flowers you can see your college diploma, your journal, several pictures of your family and friends, and pictures with the guy sitting across the room.

“I’m Yuta” he introduced himself to you for the second time in his life and that left a sting on his heart. Trying to hold back his tears, he saw you play with the engagement ring that he gave you earlier today.

“I’m sorry If I don’t remember you Yuta. But I will work hard to-“ he came closer to you with a slight panic, asking permission if he could hold your hand. You let him.

“You don’t have to do that. Yes its hard for me but I know its harder for you” he puts his forehead on yours, arms encircling around you and gentle swaying you. Everything this guy do is too much for you, you wanted to push him because he’s basically a stranger in your eyes. But you knew all too well that he’s not a stranger to your heart.

On the next day, your parents talked to Yuta about how you should live your life when you get discharged from the hospital. They were kind enough to consider Yuta to take care of you and for that he was thankful. Knowing all too well that living with him will be hard for you, but he promised himself that he will be strong for the both of you.

“but” your father started and Yuta got nervous all of a sudden.

“We asked her if she wants to live with you and go on with her normal life with you. We also explained to her that that’s the best option… but she didn’t want to. And that’s her final decision” Yuta was once again feeling weak and unable to move after hearing your father’s explanation.

“Yuta, we want her to be well. Everyone does. That’s why we should talk to her even more, and convince her to live with you” your mother added, being hopeful that Yuta would convince you to live with him.

In your four years of being together, Yuta never forced you to do something you don’t want. Even when it comes to the smallest things like if you don’t want his shoes inside your shared bedroom, he complies. Yuta knew you so well that he trusts every decision you make. That’s why he explains to your parents that he can’t force you to live with him. “We all love her. I think, we should respect her decision” those are Yuta’s final words to your parents. They didn’t have any choice but to agree with Yuta. But your parents think Yuta deserves to be with you too. They told him to come see you tonight before they leave first thing in the morning and that he’s welcome to visit you anytime if he wants to.

For the last time, Yuta visits your room while you were sleeping. Sitting on your hospital bed carefully not to wake you. He strokes your soft hair, memorising your features more.

“I will never forgive myself. I should’ve taken care of you, baby it’s my job. I should have pinned you down instead of just telling you not to ride that motorcycle with Lucas” he cries again, pouring everything out. “I’m sorry if none of our dreams will come true. But I know you will live happily even without me baby. Just promise me you’ll never be sad or cry over something or someone. I could’ve been the one making you happy forever but, we can’t force anything to happen now.”

He slowly caress your arm, down to your hand. Kissing it several times, your hands became wet because of his tears. With a heavy heart, Yuta slowly takes off your engagement ring.

“I will never forget you. Thank you for making half of my life as beautiful as your face” he forced to let out a giggle, and quietly leaves the room with a broken heart. ................................................. Masterlist Hey there! If you’re at this point I would like to thank you for reading this. If you have any comments or questions, in between scenarios I’m more than happy to answer them :) Talk to me! I want to make new friends.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #nct fic #kpop fic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #fluff #angst #smut #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #yuta #nct au #nct scenarios

256 notes · View notes

angelinasway · 3 years

Text

Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.” Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly. Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father’s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running. He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

12 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1279

Are you and the last person you kissed in a relationship or just friends? I don’t keep contact.

Has anyone ever pointed out that your laugh was unusual? Hmmmm, I don’t think so. I feel like that would be the type of comment that would get to me so I definitely would’ve remembered it.

Would you get a lip piercing? I don’t plan on getting any piercings.

Nose piercing? Nopes.

What are you currently waiting for? For this fucking day to end so I can be closer to Thursday and to the weekend.

Do you have feelings for anyone? Nah.

Have you ever run over an animal? Nope. I’ve had extremely close calls with animals who suddenly dart into the road, but fortunately these have all been situations wherein I got to hit the brakes with nobody behind me.

Have you chewed gum after someone else already has? That’s disgusting, no.

When people sneeze do you say ‘bless you’? Sure, out of habit and just to be polite.

When was the last time you were on a bouncy castle? I don’t think I’ve ever been on a bouncy castle, but I’ve been on a lot of bouncy other things haha, like inflatable slides, soccer balls, Anpanmans, etc. The last time would probably be a nearly a decade ago; I definitely haven’t been near one in a while.

Have you ever went on a bouncy castle whilst drunk? Well no, because the ones I’ve been on were situated in school fairs, which is the last place I would want to be drunk in.

Have you ever entered an art competition? No, I have no justification to join one haha.

What is one thing you will never do? Try hardcore drugs. < Same.

What is one food that you detest? Pineapples.

Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Yeah I was a bit of a handful to raise, but I’m in firm in my stance that it had a lot to do with the way I was raised. I grew up mostly without a father figure because my dad worked abroad and I felt neglected by my mom who had her own shit to deal with. There was no stable support system to lean on, so I ended up lashing out a lot in my puberty years. Unfortunately everyone else just saw a rebellious child and not a plea for help.

These days when I show off my achievements on social media, I’ll see congratulatory comments from my mom’s friends and she’ll usually go on about some “late bloomers grow with time” narrative and it pisses me off because nobody knows how much I’ve had to grow and mature and learn how to be happier all by myself, all from scratch. If I had just received the proper care and attention early on, I wouldn’t have had to do any catching up to begin with.

What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic.

Are you still that religion? Jesus no. I darted out of there as soon as I gained the consciousness to think about these sorts of things.

Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Sometimes, but I do my best to not let it get to me.

How many friends do you have on Facebook? Over 670.

What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? I started with punk rock in the first half of high school, so I had my Rancids, H2Os, Against Me!s, Cro-Mags, etc on my iPod. It evolved a little bit towards more indie, folksy sounds towards the latter half - Banks, alt-J, Hozier, Twenty One Pilots - which I largely attribute to the crowd I was part of at the time.

What pet names do you use with your significant other? I’m pretty straightforward so baby works out for me. Other, more specific pet names just grow naturally with the relationship, I think.

What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? S&R.

Have you ever seen a theatre show? Yeah. Most of them have been required.

What’s your favourite vegetable? Broccoli or bell peppers.

Have you ever missed a flight? Never. I’ve experienced several delayed flights, though, which is always such a hassle especially if the delays happen in provincial airports since they never have any recreational offers to keep passengers from getting bored other than TVs that run the same damn five ads.

Do your neighbours have any pets? Have you ever met them? Yeah, a lot of have dogs. I’ve met some.

What color is your bedroom door? Brown.

If you were ever to become famous, would you grow annoyed at fans? Only towards obsessive ones who wouldn’t give me time to breathe or would go so far so as to stalk me or my loved ones. But I am a fan too, so I imagine I would actually be understanding of those who would ask for pictures or whatever as long as they were polite and not at all intrusive.

Have you ever met your favourite band/singer? Nah. I am terrified of meeting celebrities HAHA so I’ve always shut down the chance. I’m pretty sure I would actually turn down the chance to meet BTS if I hypothetically suddenly got the magic keys to that door.

Are you embarrassed by any of the songs/singers/bands you like? No. I feel like that sort of thing just happens in like high school, when your friends are still a bit judgmental. Nowadays I don’t see why I should be embarrassed of anything I like, especially if it’s not hurting anyone.

Have you ever written a story? I’ve made attempts but was always terrible.

Think of the last poem you wrote: What inspired you to write it? My homework that required me to write said poem hahaha.

Do you have a chance with the person you like right now?

What’s the weirdest thing you were scared of as a child? Watching commercials at night. It’s still a slight fear of mine but it’s mostly dissipated now.

Are there any embarrassing stories your family tells about you? About me? No. I don’t have a lot of those since I was a really shy kid who barely moved a finger anyway.

In your opinion, what is the funniest TV show? I have a *really* soft spot for Perfect Strangers, which I actually revisited yesterday :) The show was never super popular so it’s near impossible to find clips online, but when I checked YouTube I did see a slight increase in short snippets from the show so I had a really fun time binge-watching yesterday.

What is the maximum number of children you’d ever have? Three, but that’s pushing it. Ideally, I’d have two so my first would have company.

Have you ever been concerned you had a serious illness? Mental ones, yes.

Are you comfortable with who you are? For the most part, yes.

Would you date someone even if you knew you’d get made fun of for it? No. Why would it be any of their business?

Does popularity matter to you at all? I mean, yeah in the sense that I honestly aspire to be well-liked by as many people as possible. But I don’t necessarily want to rub shoulders with popular kids.

Would you ever consider homeschooling your children? Continued from sometime this week ider. No. I don’t think I’m capable of teaching, and generally I’d want them to be able to learn in a more open environment where they can have regular contact with different kinds of people.

Who told you about the band/singer you are currently listening to? Well Angela got into them first and since we’re best friends, there was a certain point where she just decided to loop me into conversations that involved them. I was impossible to sway for a long time, but then one day a video compilation of them showed up on my feed, and for some reason I actually watched it, and I watched all the way through, and I was immediately intrigued – particularly by J-Hope haha. I then asked Angela to tell me more about them and the rest was...financially irresponsible history HAHAHAHA

Do you ever read fanfiction? OMG yes. Funny you should mention that because my favorite author uploaded a brand new fic this morning, which I obviously couldn’t get to all day because I had to go to work. I’ll be reading it in all its 44,000-word glory tonight :D

Would you rather die in a plane crash, ship wreck or fire? Plane crash. Instant and mostly painless.

What are your top five favourite TV shows? Breaking Bad, BoJack Horseman, Friends, The Crown even though I was never able to continue it since...andddd that’s all I got.

What is your favorite superhero movie? Not a fan of superhero movies.

If you died next week, what would be the cause of death? Stress from overworking. I’ve FINALLY started to consider taking a leave for the first time this year because I’ve just realized just how fucking exhausted, burned out, and overwhelmed I actually already am from having no rest at all in the last 13 months.

Have you ever taken a break from Facebook or other social media? Why? Yes, I do mass deactivations when I’m severely depressed. These days I can’t really afford to that anymore, though, since my work is closely tied to social media.

Who is the most talented person you know? Probably Andi.

Are you currently platonic friends with anyone you’ve had sex with? No.

Where did you and your current interest go on your first date?

Have you ever experienced two people fighting over you (physically or mentally)? What happened? Nah. I’ve had two people like me at the same time, but there was never any tension to watch out for since they mostly didn’t know each other.

Have your parents ever thought you were gay? What happened? I think they know I dated Gabie and that we broke up because they’ve stopped asking about her. Everyone knew we were best friends, so the fact that they’ve avoided her as a topic for a whole year is able to tell me something.

Are your parents more liberal or conservative? Dad’s on the liberal side, mom dances around on the spectrum a little bit. I know she’s fine with things like tattoos and having LGBTQ+ co-workers, but she’s also conservative especially towards matters like religion.

What year are you going into at the beginning of the next academic year? No longer in school.

How far away does your closest family member live? A few footsteps away.

If you’ve seen both, did you prefer the Disney version or the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland? It’s not my type of movie/genre to begin with.

Would you have sex before marriage? Why or why not? Yes. I don’t see the big deal; I’ve already done it anyway.

Are you more liberal or conservative? Liberal.

Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? Ooh not sure. I haven’t gone back to the books in a while, so I don’t remember if there was anyone I had an attachment to.

What’s the worst that could come out of letting gays marry? Nothing.

What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done? Had sex...I guess? And a bunch of stuff that comes with it.

Name something that you are against. Racial discrimination.

Why are you against it? Because it is infuriating to see, and it shows me the very same treatment can happen to me or my family as well and that scares me, especially since some people turn particularly violent towards people of color.

Have you ever played the Tomb Raider games? No.

Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy? I imagine I wouldn’t enjoy it if I’m not as into whoever my next partner would be.

Beatles or Rolling Stones? I don’t listen to either.

When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody? Not so sure about a whole change in opinion because that hasn’t happened in a while, but I grew more grateful for my manager today because I finally mustered the strength to tell her that I’m begin to struggle mentally with work and she not only encouraged (read: begged) me to file a damn leave for once, but she also got sushi delivered to my place.

What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why? Andi was telling me about their day today and how they handled being misgendered by a prof, who then proceeded to throw a fit when he got corrected, and how they, again, maturely handled said fit. I was proud of them because there are a million ways that incident could’ve turned out, but they dealt with it in an extremely mature and calm manner considering they were the one who was wronged.

Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? If it was about an extremely personal problem I would probably be taken aback at first, but I still would definitely make some time for them and help in however way I can, since they apparently trust me enough to confide.

What was the last thing to fascinate you? The music video for My Universe! Super cool to watch and I love that they made a short film out of it too.

Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you? Doors being slammed shut, because that’s what my mom does when she’s furious. She did that when I was a kid and she does it to this day, so I get extremely nervous when I hear the sound, even if it happens by accident.

Do you have a favourite microorganism? Nope.

Out of the people you know, whose birthday is next? My cousin Bree.

If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? I did when I had them as a kid.

Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? Yes?

Have you ever owned chickens? Nope.

When did you last listen to music? Like five minutes ago. I tried to have a jazz playlist on but I realized I wasn’t in the mood for music so I changed my background noise to have a random VLive on instead.

#surveys #survey

4 notes · View notes

fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

Text

The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing.

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident.

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal.

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer.

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her.

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see.

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets.

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer.

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man.

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her.

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces.

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance.

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances.

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical.

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door.

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets.

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her.

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her.

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him.

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited.

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone.

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head.

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there.

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body.

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it.

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances.

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her.

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other.

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her.

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her.

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement.

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked.

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn’t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half.

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable.

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do.

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less.

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder.

#scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #sits #voltage games #voltage fanfic #voltage smut

29 notes · View notes

mateasha · 4 years

Text

rendevous 18.6y

summary: chikage shows up at the front door of MANKAI after disappearing from the face of the Earth for 3 years. itaru is not happy. fandom: a3 pairing: chikage x itaru word count: 4716 tags: original characters for the sake of plot, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, flashbacks, mentions of death, bad attempts at action, bad attempts at comedy chapter 3: work Itaru is unhappy. There’s a lot of things he could be doing right now, and he did not expect one of things he chose to do is to be outside in a bar today. With a lot of people. The things he does for money and food. People might call him a glutton, but he would say he just knows how to play his cards right, he thinks to himself as he slides his phone out of his pocket to play a mobile version of KniRoun— which is more just tapping on the screen really fast to kill enemies.

The bar is decently big, 13 of them seated around a booth, Sakyo, Izumi, Tsumugi, Tasuku, Azuma, Chikage, Kazunari, Omi, Guy, Citron, Tsuzuru, and Homare. 12 excluding Itaru who isn’t really mentally there. But at least he’s there, with a tiny piece of comfort to get him through this arduous time. Arduous to him at least.

The atmosphere is warm, with a sense of familiarity to it, the yellow lights making everyone look a bit more tan than they actually are. They’ve gone to a different bar this time, one that Chikage recommended (of course) and he won’t lie: this place has good food.

Not that he’s doubting Chikage’s tastes— which he obviously can and will do, with his no taste buds no spice receptor having ass, but he’s doubting Chikage’s tastes, as he watches him sprinkle nanami that he had in his bag all over his side dish. Everyone is slowly sipping on their respective alcohol, Itaru with some fruity drink that he hasn’t touched a bit, as he takes out his phone just to inspect the time.

Everyone is having their tiny bit of banter, especially with Chikage as he talks to them with an almost smile on his face, each of them going around, asking questions about whatever he’s doing. He’s not surprised that the conversations Chikage is conducting are not turning into shouting matches, as he’d expect.

“Chikage! It hasn’t been a long time since I’ve seen you!” Homare shouts, almost alerting the entire bar to whatever their business is.

“Ah, yes. It’s been only a couple days, hm?” Chikage takes a bite of his tataki, savoring the taste a bit before he takes a sip of his weird craft beer that he knows how to pronounce for whatever reason.

“Couple days? Chikage, you’ve been around?” Tsumugi is slowly getting more and more roped into whatever conversation they’re having. Itaru is suddenly intrigued, his ears almost perking up like a cat’s, but not physically.”

“Yeah. I wanted to come around. The graveyard.” He gets a bit somber thinking about it, but still keeps up the slightly cheery demeanor. “It’s nice there.”

“It is.” Izumi chips in.

“We chose it. Without you.” Itaru glares at Chikage from across the table, finally taking a sip of this damn drink that they called the One Night Stand. Lame name, he thinks, as he takes in another sip, feeling the coldness of the strawberry liqueur down his throat.

“Yeah… I know.” Chikage quickly changes the topic to something else, Itaru left behind to think as he slowly takes more of the fruity cocktail into his system. It’s hard to hear them over the sound of everyone else but it’s nice. It feels familiar. Like nothing’s changed. But he knows that things have changed. For some reason, everyone seems happy to see him. Him included— but he’d never say that. Itaru is happy. Sort of.

It’s a dilemma to miss someone so much that you feel your heart ache and twist but also hate them for leaving. It’ll go down in the textbooks maybe, a textbook example of a dilemma, but he hates it, this feeling of having to choose his emotions— when usually they would pick themselves, like most of the time. On one hand, Itaru is glad— maybe even overjoyed that he’s alive, but on the other, he’s angry that he’s alive and didn’t even tell him anything. He just left.

But now is not the time to self loathe, as he gets out of the booth. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He quickly pockets his phone with the game still running into his standard jacket, unsure if Chikage caught it— which he probably did, but he doesn’t expect much from him, at least in the court of actually doing something.

But he can almost feel someone’s eyes burning into his back, specifically Chikage’s. He walks into the bathroom, the smell of booze and maybe just a little bit of piss— but he’s used to it, based on the idea that Itaru has had to deal with bar bathrooms ever since joined the damn workforce. But for some reason, the smell of booze is actually a bit pleasant— exclude the piss smell— with a maturity that exudes unconsciously.

He’s still playing the same game, watching Gawain slice some basic slime, Itaru tapping fiercely just to speed up the process— he has to rank for this event and these battles are a little long. Which is why he didn’t want to come, but he owes it to Izumi, who looked significantly more happy when she saw he was coming along for once, after he had declined the past 3 weeks.

But this train of thought is stopped suddenly as soon as the sound of the bathroom door swings open, with a slight bang on the wall, not nearly loud enough to disturb him, but Itaru gets quiet, raising his feet off the ground.

“Chigasaki.” Chikage has a stern voice now.

Itaru is silent. It’s Chikage. He really doesn’t want to talk to him.

“I know you’re in here.” Shit.

“No, you don’t.”

“Just come out. I want to talk.”

One of the worst phrases ever to come out of his mouth, other than “uncute junior.” He walks out a little dejected.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He walks away from Chikage, slowly walking to the door with a tinge of tantrum in his steps.

“Wait.”

Itaru continues to walk out before he feels a hand on his wrist pulling him back.

“Wait.” He tightens his grip on Itaru’s arm, forcing him to turn around, their eyes meeting for a bit, Itaru just staring him down as hard as he can which, surprisingly, has a little effect on him.

“What?” Itaru’s voice is cold and steely. “What do you have to say?”

“I’m here to say sorry.” Chikage is completely, wholly serious, his voice echoing in the bar’s bathroom. He pulls Itaru closer, close enough to where he can smell Chikage’s scent, smelling faintly of alcohol, cigarettes, and oddly but not really oddly enough, gunpowder.

“...You… you’re saying sorry.” Itaru doubts Chikage a bit looking into his eyes, for some reason are full of sincerity.

“Yes.” Chikage’s face is telling that he’s still serious, which comes as a bit of a surprise to Itaru.

“...What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re saying sorry to me.”

“And? I’m sorry. Izumi told me about everything.”

“Izumi?”

“Yeah.”

“She told you?”

“No, I asked her.”

“You asked Izumi how I felt before you came to me?” Itaru questions him fiercely, his eyes set alight with a tinted anger.

“I thought you wouldn’t respond.”

“But still? You didn’t even try coming to me first? That’s not fucking right, Chikage.” Itaru can feel a little bit of the alcohol in his brain, his thoughts becoming less coherent as he goes on.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would be so… distraught over me leaving.” Chikage feels a bit awkward, a first for him— then again, tonight might just be the week of firsts, maybe even month.

“I— you didn’t know? Did that moment mean nothing to you?” He thinks back to the first time Itaru went to pick Chikage up.

“It meant something to me, I just— I thought you might’ve been glad, like—“

“Glad? Listen; I love having a room to myself but glad? Chikage. You— You really do— matter to me. You still do, but right now I can’t fuckin—“ Itaru chokes up, frustrated that he can barely get the words out, trying so hard but everytime he says the next word it comes out wrong. “I’m going.” Itaru is tearing up as he slowly feels a burst of energy, breaking away from Chikage’s grip before bursting through the bathroom doors.

He’s almost running through the bar, passing by his table.

“Itaru?” Izumi sees him, tears almost in his eyes as he runs past, Chikage trailing behind. “...Chikage.” She pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. “What’d you do?” Izumi is stern with her voice, almost a scolding tone.

“I said sorry.”

“Listen, just give him some time.” Izumi looks at Itaru exit the bar, slowly, almost pitifully. “He needs it.”

—

Itaru is humiliated.

Crying in front of everyone, well, at least almost crying. God, what if one of his coworkers were there?

He’s walking along the sidewalk of Veludo Way, the night street slightly bustling with the sound of footsteps moving past. The odd warmth on Veludo Way’s spring day slowly sets into the environment, making Itaru slightly sweat through his undershirt that’s just the slightest bit restrictive, as he unbuttons his jacket and then a button off the collar of his undershirt. Much better.

Itaru has much to think about— which Itaru is definitely not used to, as the thoughts race through his mind like they’re Olympic runners.

He’s not angry. He thinks he should be though, as he sits down onto a bench, the weird rustling of the banners hanging from building to building making this day feel off. Everything about this day feels off. Especially the fact Chikage was motivated to say sorry— which half the time (when he was here) he would probably say, “I’m sorry that you felt that way.” like he wasn’t at fault. But a genuine, I’m sorry?

He takes off his jacket finally, pulling out his phone. Lots of new notifications that he clears immediately, opening his game up again. The area around the bench is secluded, so he knows he can play here.

He can feel the wind getting his hair into his eyes— god he wishes he was home, but after that whole fiasco, he doubts he can go back. Unless Chikage is doing something. But he really doesn’t want to talk about it with Izumi. As understanding as she is, he isn’t in the mood to deal with whatever advice she has to give.

He opens up, Lancelot posing on his home screen saying something about Gawain. How fitting. He immediately turns off the phone after thinking about it a little bit. He can’t even try to escape this. He gets up again, taking a longer walk to an even less busy street. He’s gone really far, he thinks, as he looks at his surroundings, a little bit unfamiliar— as far as six years in the same place can be familiar.

Something is different, he thinks, Itaru settling into the chair and getting comfortable, basking in the sunset’s light that casts shadows long, the silhouettes of people stretching across the sidewalk. It’s not that he’s worried about how everyone else perceives them, they see each other every single day (on a non ranking week). Nothing’s changed. They’re all still close knit— even more close knit than how they were before.

Nothing’s changed.

Everyone talks like they used to, everyone is still friends, even Chikage with everyone else. And there is literally no evidence that Chikage hates him, and he completely understands why he had to go. There’s no evidence that he’s less than glad to see him again after three years.

So why is he so stressed, he thinks to himself, screaming his lungs out internally in anger. He fusses with his phone, turning it over and over again, playing with the home button and the speaker, feeling the engravings on his hand, stroking it fast then slow to pass the time.

“...Chigasaki.” Chikage pulls up to the bench in the troupe’s car.

“...Chikage.” He looks like a child that ran away after his iPad got taken away. Chikage hasn’t really changed either. Maybe more well mannered. Maybe more well meaning than he was the first time around. His skills are still the same, as Chikage parks on the side, and comes out the car, wearing his signature outfit that doesn’t look like it wore down at all in the past three years.

“Why are you here?”

“Can you just… wait this time. Come into the car. I’ll drive you back.”

“How do I know you aren’t kidnapping me?”

“Why would I need to kidnap you?”

“...To force me to accept your apology?”

“Even I know that’s not how it works.”

“Trying to make a joke here.”

“Not a very good one.” They both chuckle a bit.

Nothing’s changed.

“I’m sorry.” Chikage pauses. “Again. Let me try this again— okay?” He looks to Itaru for approval, almost looking more timid than he used to.

“...you were never unable to.” He mumbles under his breath, almost feeling bad for the green haired man sitting next to him, until his asshole smirk pops up again, his slight irritation, and urge to hurt Chikage in more ways than one increasing.

“Can we move into the car? I… I can gather my thoughts better there.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

They both get up from the bench, the sun already down, the feeling like time passed by so fast, as Itaru checks his phone for the time. It’s 7:48 pm, Itaru says to himself, as he gets into the car.

“So…?”

“So.”

“Go on…”

Chikage starts the ignition, pulling out of the parallel park, taking his time this time.

“How’d you come find me?”

“A spy never tells his secrets.”

“Mmm.” Itaru can’t help but be irritated, Chikage backtracking.

“Sorry. I put a tracker on your phone a while back.”

“Dude, what?”

“Kidding. Or am I?” He laughs at Itaru’s kid-like face, pouting like there’s no tomorrow.

“I just needed to talk to you. I don’t want to let this opportunity go.”

“You had a lot of opportunities.”

“I’m aware.”

“A lot.”

“You said that.”

“Now what do you have to say now?”

“Well, as if you haven’t heard it enough— but I’m sorry. Really.” Chikage takes a deep breath, as he nears closer to the dorms. “We need to patch whatever we have up and since it’s quite out of character for me to take initiative in these intrapersonal relationship fixers, I need you to know that I am aware of my mistake, I really should have just come to you. I just didn’t… assess the situation correctly.”

“Wow.” Itaru is stupefied, just sitting in the car chair.

Now the feelings are really rushing in.

“What?”

“I…” Itaru is just sitting there, unsure of what to say, but Itaru’s sudden interjection stops the conversation right then and there. “...okay. Thanks. I forgive you.”

“Is that it?”

“What?”

“Were you expecting… more work?”

“I’m new to this type of stuff, Itaru— at least doing it in a genuine way.”

“I know.”

“Well… I’m glad you forgive me.”

That definitely shuts them up, setting in a familiar aura of familial awkwardness that Itaru can’t wait to get out of, as they pull into the driveway. Izumi is waiting at the entrance, reading some book about dealing with children— like she has to still, but it doesn’t hurt. He slowly gets out at the same time as Chikage.

“...So?” Izumi looks at Chikage and Itaru inquisitively, almost confused as to what happened— as neither of their faces display great discomfort but also not happiness. Which is what she wanted— but hey, Rome wasn’t built in one day. After a momentary silence, Izumi whips her head around to look at Itaru.

“Don’t run off like that again.” She punches the side of his arm, and walks inside.

Chikage and Itaru quickly shuffle back to their room, Chikage already packing up all his stuff for another trip out.

“Where are you going?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“I figured as much. See you.”

“See you.” Chikage quickly rushes out of the room, leaving Itaru in his messy room, as he gets up from his chair to flop all over the even messier couch, as he moves around some tissues and cans down the floor, laying up and looking at the ceiling, where there’s literally nothing there. Perfect for him. To be alone with one’s thoughts.

Itaru feels bad. He doesn’t know why he feels bad, but he definitely feels bad about something, as he stares up into the whiteness of the ceiling that feels almost engulfing and suffocating for some reason, as he sits up to walk over to his computer to turn it on, taking a seat in his gamer chair, slouching so heavily- even more heavily than usually. He’s tired.

And the first step to becoming “untired” is to address the elephant in the room. Chikage is here and he still, even after all that shit that just went down, does not know how to cope with it. Like he said, Chikage didn’t leave because he resented MANKAI. So why does he feel so bad? He needed time to grieve and time to deal with the stack of bullshit he needed to deal with after his death. It’s fine.

But as cliche as it is, it’s not fine. Itaru is trying so hard to distract himself, but you can only lose yourself in a game so much. He needs to perceive the reality of him being here.

He straightens up in his chair slowly and groans a bit before laying his fingers and hand on the keyboard before determining that he’s too tired to game for once, which he’s surprised by and can barely push through as he gets up, leaving his computer on as he goes up the ladder to fall asleep.

He doesn’t even need to try.

—

Itaru already is dreading the idea of going to work now that Chikage is here, the thought not even crossing his mind during the weekend-- which makes complete sense, being that for the past three days he’s been thinking of Chikage. Which says a lot about him, really.

But now he’s been cursed with Chikage hovering over him as they both sit in the car to work, the silence almost deafening, except for the Idolmaster song quietly in the background— which doesn’t surprise Chikage because of his prior experience with Itaru. But when Chikage looks at him, Itaru has a regained focus while he hums along to the song.

Which definitely matters, because for the first time in a while, Chikage is sweating nervously, on the same level as Itaru trying to force down his feelings vomit back into his stomach, but less visible, as he breaks the silence that’s harder than permafrost with his humming— when as a matter of fact— he didn’t really need to do that, when not even god could save this car ride that keeps dragging on and on.

Chikage doesn’t say anything as they pull into the parking lot of the office building quickly, trying to get in without anyone seeing them— which is practically impossible as they rush in, Chikage hearing whispers of “why are Chigasaki and Utsuki-senpai together?” and “why’d they come into work together?” with the occasional coo, which isn’t very helpful to Itaru’s reddening face as he drags Chikage by the hand to round the hall. Itaru stops to catch a little more breath before starting.

“This is so fucking humilating.”

“Does it matter?”

“...Yeah? I have an image to keep up here, and I can’t lose out on that.”

“Listen, we came together once. I’m sure this won’t happen again.”

“What about the like… 8 weeks till closing night?

“I’ll be fine. I can figure something out.” Chikage goes on his phone.

“God, can we just go. I’ll see you after work.”

“Yeah.”

They walk down the hall, opening the door to the office, and go to their separate cubicles.

—

It’s break, and Itaru is nowhere to be seen, as usual, but Chikage is in the lunchroom poking slowly at his food, which is just an onigiri, which isn’t the most filling thing but he’s subsisted on worse before. He picks it up and takes a bite, looking up at the lunchroom, which is one of multiple in the building, one of the smaller ones, so he’s not around many people at all. But the same sterilized environment starts to get him, falling into the same daily pace, almost making him forget the fact that he had to come to work with Itaru this morning.

Itaru really made a bigger deal than it was, he thinks, remembering his little pouting face as he walked away, his face obviously showing that he was stomping away in his head. Or at least wanted to stomp away, but that isn’t the most appropriate thing to be doing in a workplace setting. His thoughts are interrupted by a voice coming out from the door frame, as he turns his head towards the open door, seeing his coworker in it.

“Utsuki-senpai!”

He looks around for a bit before registering the fact that there’s someone trying to talk to him, which he wasn’t really expecting while he’s in here, as literally no one comes in here except for him, unless someone really needs to talk to him. “Ah, Yui-san. Hi.” He plasters a small smile onto his face like he’s switching on a light.

“So… You were seen coming in with Chigasaki-san, I’ve heard.” She pulls out a chair and sits down next to Chikage, putting down her lunch on the table, and opening up the tupperware.

Chikage sighs, struggling to keep that smile taped on with the shitty tape that can’t even stick to walls. “Yeah.” He pauses after a bit of silence, the room stale with slight fear that he’s mad. He’s definitely not mad, that’s what he knows, but he’s definitely tired of hearing the same shit over and over again, since he got here. “What about him?” He’s obviously coming off a little angry that she’s asking about it, which he’s trying so hard not to do— but to no avail.

“Ah… sorry if I made you mad, the workplace has just been a bit curious… we’ve never really seen you interact with him— that’s all!” She tries to reciprocate Chikage’s fake smile with a smile of his own, overbearing— but Chikage can appreciate the effort. “It’s just that he’s a pretty popular actor… Do you know him?” She’s obviously interested in Itaru.

Chikage doesn’t know what to say— whether to say no, they just happened to meet (which doesn’t make sense) or to say yes. And tell them everything. He decides on a half truth. “Ah, I didn’t know he was an actor!” He quietly adds a “still” at the end, so they can’t call him out if they knew his past. “My car broke down, so I just needed a ride here. I recognized Chigasaki-san as I’ve seen him around. He’s quite the popular one.”

“Hah, yeah. He’s very handsome… even I can see that. Never got the chance to talk to him though.” Chikage already knows why, and rolls his eyes in “it was expected from you, but I’m still disappointed.” He adds a side remark. “Are you two sure you have nothing going on?”

Chikage almost wants to facepalm and walk out, but he needs to retain the caring senpai act for a while, so he sucks it up, and stifles his anger to squeeze out at least a tiny neutral remark. “Yeah. We only came to work together like… once. I don’t know why you’re so interested in this.”

“He is handsome… and he’s nice to boot.”

Are you kidding me? “You sound like you have a crush on him.” She immediately blushes when Chikage even mentions the idea that she has a crush on him.

“Well, can you blame me?”

Chikage wants to roll his eyes so bad, but rolling his eyes in his mind will just have to do as he tries to formulate his sentence, “Really?” Chikage speaks with disbelief in his voice, like he forgot that no one really is aware of his gamer side. She’s completely unaware of his second side. “I mean, he is handsome. But have you ever even… talked to him? Not doubting his social skills or his personality, but I’m just wondering. You need to know what you’re getting into.

“Well…” She thinks to herself, obviously like she hadn’t talked to him a while. Which is probably right. “I’ve talked to him like… once…? Maybe twice, but that was just in a meeting.”

“Well, how can you have a crush on him?”

“He’s so nice! I don’t think there’s a way to dislike him. Seriously.” Yui-san looks as if she’s literally swooning, like she’s leaning back in her chair so far back she might fall.

“Mhmmmm…”

“Well, you’re a downer.” She goes back into her food as Chikage finishes up his onigiri.

“Suit yourself. I’m heading back to my desk.”

“I’ll see you later. Oh, I forgot what I came to tell you! The boss wants to talk to you. Something about a trip?”

“I’ll be sure to head over.”

Trip? He walks quickly out of the break room to escape the awkward atmosphere that he created himself, which is extremely unlike him to do, when he’s usually a bit charismatic in the workplace. His boss doesn’t really intimidate him, as he walks through the hall to head into the office, bumping into Itaru in front of the door.

“... Are you going in?” Itaru looks at him with a neutral face, but he can see the anxiety setting in behind it, as he still keeps up his refreshing businessman facade in front of Chikage, which is a bit irritating, but it’s okay.

“Depends on what you think.” Chikage gives him a shit-eating smirk, a wild difference from the shit-eating grin that Chikage would usually give him.

“Do I really need to say?” He seems a bit tired, huffing a bit from his nose in slight frustration.

They’re both silent for a bit before they start walking, entering the room together. The room is a bit more colorful than most of the office, with the same fish tank still there, and the shelves filled with photos of places he’s been and the occasional family photo.

“Ah! Utsuki-san, Chigasaki-san. Sit down. I’ve been looking for you two.” The last words strike some sort of fear into Itaru’s heart, almost to the same level of “we need to talk”. “Have you two met?”

“Yes, we have.” Itaru speaks up. “We don’t really… talk much however.”

“Ishii-buchou, what did you need from both of us?” Chikage saves Itaru the energy that he would use if he were to speak to him, which he’s obviously thankful for.

“So, my daughter Kaede is having her birthday soon, and I have a trip to go on with a foreign investor, so you can imagine the dilemma I’m having.” He says it in such a condescending way it hurts a little.

“Oh, happy early birthday to your daughter! So what do you want us two to do?” Chikage is still speaking, taking the lead.

“I’m going to need you two to take a trip on my behalf. You two are our most important and reputable workers here, and I think you two would be a good pair.” He smiles fakely from behind the desk. “Could you two please do this?”

Itaru’s eyes widen open. Can this day get much worse? He wants to scream but he’s still in the office. Chikage still looks fine though, he notices, still keeping up the responsible front up, looking directly at Ishii, while Itaru looks at him with fish eyes, like he’s been asked to move the entire office building.

Chikage speaks up first. “Definitely. I would love this opportunity.” He side eyes Itaru to respond.

“Ah, yes, sure.” Shit.

“Great! You guys will be going by the end of this week! You two can go now. I’ll send you more information over email.”

Fuck. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

#a3 #a3!#a3! chikage #a3! itaru #a3! chikaita #ckit #chikage utsuki #itaru chigasaki #a3 fanfiction #a3! fanfic

7 notes · View notes

revisionaryhistory · 4 years

Text

Three Days ~ 55

~*~Sebastian~*~

I stared at her. Stunned. I'm not sure if it's how the conversation went or she wants me and whatever comes with me. Emma is so intentional. Her words carry meaning. She wants to be clear and asks for clarity. This is heaven for my overthinking brain. I’m not stuck wondering what she means nor am I afraid to ask. Because I know she'll answer. Really answer.

"I've got eight years on you, how are you the more mature one?"

"Stabilizing influence and frighteningly direct communication of my second dad."

The expression on her face and deadpanned delivery had me laughing. "I can see that. I'll be the emotionally reactive one and you can be the calming one." Then I remembered. "Although, Eli did tell a story about you laying into some guy in Hawaii at a volleyball game. Ed dumped you in the ocean. I wish there was video."

"There is. You'll have to get dad to send it to you."

Tuesday was a good day. Workout was hard and my abs were already sore, but we'd laughed a lot. Good phone call with mom. The house had come together, she was enjoying some time in the pool, and she'd picked up some piano students. My afternoon was spent in my manager, Emily's, office. Mostly she and I, but a few conference calls. I was about to be busy. The next six weeks I was more gone than home. I was excited about the work. Excited to see friends.

Admittedly, the timing wasn't the greatest, new relationship and all, but I was confident we'd figure it out. This is different. I'd like to say it was because my previous experience is whining and bitching about me being gone so long, knowing I was going to pay for the distance, and trying to front-load my leaving to make it more palatable. While all of those all true, the actual difference is I care. The emotionally unavailable hot and cold thing comes into play here. I put up a wall to block the whining and bitching, not really listening, because it's my job. Bitching at me isn’t going to change anything and I’m not going to feel guilty for doing my job. Well, I do, but it just pisses me off because I shouldn’t. The expectation of gifts, dinners, or a vacation to make up for being gone made those a lot less fun. And I was never successful at cramming a bunch of stuff in before I left, because my work didn't start when I left. It starts weeks before. I don’t leave for filming for a month, but I’m already prepping: gym reading, watching things, research, and studying the script. I get pretty singularly focused. I don't know any other way. And when pushed I shut down. I don't respond. I brood. And I appear cold. None of this is right. Some just is. Some is my fault. Getting to where I didn't care about her (any of the previous hers) feelings and concerns with me gone was a side effect of shutting down and I regret doing that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her feelings. It was feeling ineffectual to do anything about it and my self-protection kicking in. Looking back, saying effectively “deal with it” was incredibly insensitive. Not proud of it.

But now, sitting here looking at my schedule I’m finding places I can find some time for us. We’ll figure it out. I can tell you what won’t happen. Emma won't whine where I block her out. She's not going to emotionally blackmail me for things, which will make me want to give. And she’ll leave me alone to prep, let me bounce things off her, or cook something to remind me to eat. I need all of those. I care how Emma's going to feel about me being gone. I care about what we’ve begun and how we'll keep in touch. I also know that while I'm away she will carry on living the life she had before she had me and be just fine.

Emma had practice tonight and a game tomorrow. It was after eight when she called. She was in a tank top and her hair was wet from her shower. I caught up on her day before leading into mine. "I have good news and bad news."

"OK." Emma drug out the word, wary of my response.

"When I get back from Canada, I've got some time to spend with you. Then I’m gone for the month of July. Fashion show, audition and meetings, comic con, then filming in Rome." Playing off last night’s conversation, I added. "I'm not expecting a bad reaction."

"Well, that's good." Her hand moved toward the screen and I chose to believe she was touching my face. "I'II miss you, but I’m excited for you. And me getting to hear about what you're doing. Living vicariously."

I'd had some time to think. I had a lot of thoughts on plans. This was the soonest. "You get back Tuesday, doubleheader Wednesday, and I get back late Thursday. What's your weekend look like?"

"Empty. I'll come to you. You'll barely be home if you come here. I can come anytime Friday. I'll be done with work except maybe packing up my room. I can do that whenever."

"Early Friday. Thursday night." I wanted to maximize our time. "I have to do some work."

"I can amuse myself."

"Maybe the shop you liked so much will be having a sale?" I laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "July fourth weekend I'm at a fashion show. Wanna go to Paris?"

"What?" Her face moved closer to the screen. I’d surprised her.

"Not necessarily Paris, but near. The third is the show. Have you been to Paris?"

"Family spent the summer in Europe when we were thirteen. Then Pearl Jam tours. Love Paris."

"Not much more than a long weekend, but museums and I'm sure we can find some romantic Paris shit to do."

"I would love to go to Paris with you."

That was good because I'd already made reservations. "California for about two weeks then straight to Italy for at least that. Depends on how long shooting takes. Hopefully back in time to join you in Chicago. Then nothing until the end of August. Will and I had been talking about a group of us going away. We were waiting for my schedule. What do you think about a group trip and we stay a little longer or go off alone? It would be a beach somewhere."

"You going to rub sunscreen on me?"

"Um yay, part of my volleyball job. Beer bitch and sunscreen applier."

“I’m in."

"End of August is a Disney thing. Labor Day weekend is the Toronto Film Fest. Little stuff in there, nothing big. No idea past then."

She laughed, eyes wide, and moving her head in all directions "It's crazy like a tour schedule. I'm jealous. I love touring."

"I thought about Rome, but the schedule's tight. You wouldn't see me."

"I wasn't trying for an invite. I'll get some of my summer PD hours done so I won't have to worry about them. Make sure I've got time for us."

I leaned back on the couch, "That was easy."

She glared at me. "I thought you weren't expecting a bad reaction?"

I shook my head, "No, no, I wasn't. Just an observation. Thought I might have to talk you into the beach." I held it a second before smiling, "Not really. I do know it’s a lot."

"I will always go to a beach."

"You’re not allowed to play volleyball."

"Did you get the video from dad?"

"About an hour ago." I'd enjoyed it several times. "You're a feisty little thing."

Wednesday was a day of pictures and texts. After the gym, I settled in my extra room to prep. I had my laptop on the table, a stack of books on top of my script, and a huge bottle of water. I took a picture and posted it to Instagram along with one of me with a pencil between my teeth and pulling my hair.

Emma ~ How'd you get a picture of your expression during your last blow job?

Sebastian ~ Hidden camera in bedroom. You should see the other things I have. Coupling Season 1. "The Cupboard of Patrick's Love."

Emma ~ “You really don't have enough blood for both ends of your body, do you?"

Sebastian ~ Very good, Sally.

Love that she can quote one of my favorite shows.

After lunch, Emma posted a picture of her in the middle of a group hug with her students. "I'll miss my munchkins.” I sent a sad face emoji.

Then I fell into a hole. I got pulled into my research and reading and the next time I picked up my phone it was one a.m. I need time like this and put my phone on do not disturb. The only thing that comes through is two calls from the same number within a few minutes. Anyone important knows how to reach me. Emma knew, but she didn't. Not even when the Demonic Crickets won their game. She posted several pictures, but I got a much better one in a text. Emma with her back to the camera in her team tank, arm up flexing her bicep, and her looking over her shoulder smiling at me. The gold flecks in her eyes were sparkling and the darker ring made the green more intense.

Emma ~ Hope you're getting a lot done. Internally anyway. XOXO

Sebastian ~ * 12 hours later * Yeah, I did. I'm hungry. Congrats on the win. Picture is beautiful.

Sebastian ~ You're beautiful

Her thank you came while I was working out. After a shower, I fell back into my hole until it was time for therapy.

I'd been seeing Celie for a long time. Frequency varied. She had a dark brown bob, glasses, and a round face. At this point, I could read her as well as she could me. If she was looking at me over her glasses, she thought I was full of shit. No words needed. She was about ten years older than me and her style worked for me. It was a great one-sided friendship.

I took my regular spot on the blue couch, "How are you today, Celie?"

Celie smiled. She had the unconditional positive regard thing down. I say that, but she does genuinely like me. Most of the time. I can be a pain in the ass. "I've had a good day and after you I get to go home. You seem to be in a good mood. Tell what's going on with you, Seb."

I was always her last client of the day. Sometimes I needed more than an hour. "I am in a good mood. I met somebody. Last time I saw you I was going to help my parents move. I met Emma there. In a grocery store, if you can believe that."

"Sounds like you can't."

"I asked her to dinner in under fifteen minutes."

She widened her eyes in disbelief. Exactly my point. "Did you? Good for you, Seb. A complete stranger. What led you to ask her out?"

"I was all covered up and she tells me I looked like a rehab patient checking into the clinic up the road. But she was kind to me. A sketchy stranger. She didn’t know who I was until we were outside and I introduced myself. She helped me find the things on my list and we chatted." I put my hands in front of my chest, fingers splayed. "She felt good. I didn't know why, just enough that I knew I wanted to know more.”

“And what do you know now?”

I spent the next several minutes telling Celie the salient points. We’ve been doing this long enough that explaining isn’t necessary. She’ll recognize why things are important. My face hurt from smiling after I was finished talking about Emma. I stopped short of the whole conversation on Sunday.

“Besides the obvious early relationship high, how are you feeling about all this?”

“Good. Happy. Hopeful. The only concerning thing was Saturday I woke up from a night terror, panic attack. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, wrote for a while, and once Emma got up I went for a run.”

“Even with being happy, there’s been quite a bit of emotional activity. I’m pleased that you’ve only woken up once. Much better. What do you suspect triggered you?”

I took a deep breath, “Emma and I wound up in this conversation Sunday afternoon. A couple of my friends at the party had told her I wasn’t acting like I normally do with women, but more like I am with friends. This led to a conversation about my relationship issues. I’m not the same with her. She really doesn’t know that version of me. I think that’s why I had the anxiety. It was the night after the party but before the conversation. First time we’d been around my friends. I think it was not because I’m scared, but because I’m not. Like you said, there’s been a lot of emotional shit going on and I’m good. Remarkably good.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Emma is different. She’s incredibly kind and is . . . gentle. Not weak though. She’s strong.”

Celie shook her head, “When I think of gentle people it’s a combination. They can be painfully truthful, but their manner makes others able to listen. They have a compassion for others.”

“Exactly! I noticed she knew everyone. She talked to everyone and used their name. I asked and she said she looked at their nametags and you never know what someone’s day has been. That might be the first nice thing that’s happened all day. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s her. She’s like that with me. She doesn’t try to talk me out of being anxious or overthinking. She doesn’t think my insecurities are stupid. They’re all just part of me.”

“She accepts you.”

“Right. The more we got to know each other, the more we talked, I felt safe. She doesn’t do those things I usually shut down over. I don’t feel the need to protect myself. She’s very different.” Celie was looking at me over her glasses. Uh oh. “You’re giving me the look.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why? I thought I was doing good. I asked out a stranger and got this amazing woman.”

“Sebastian, as quick as you are to fault yourself, you’re slow to take credit.”

“Take credit?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “You think this relationship is different because of Emma. You lucked out and met an accepting, kind, gentle person.”

“Yes. No. Both. Emma is different and she makes me different.”

Celie made a loud, jarring beeping noise. This was new.

“Ok, I guess I’m wrong.”

“You are. Not completely. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Any credit. You’ve worked very hard. You’ve read. You’ve journaled. You’ve talked. You’ve done things I’ve asked you to even if you didn’t understand or want to. I’ve seen you grow. To give responsibility for this relationship being different all to Emma is dangerous. What’s going to happen when she falls off this pedestal you’ve put her on? Is that going to be an excuse to shut down and protect yourself? Fall back on old habits.”

I could feel my eyebrows pulled down and the scowl on my face. “So you’re saying this isn’t as good as I think it is.”

“Not at all. I’m saying it’s got as much to do with you as it does her. Previously you would have never asked out a woman you met in a grocery. But that seems to be the furthest you’re going with how you’re different. I do not believe for one second that no other woman you’ve gone out with has been kind and accepting. Or would have been if you would have been able to show them you. You used to do things to test them. You’d say or do things to see how they’d react. As we’ve talked, you weren’t being real, so you don’t know that their reactions were.”

I nodded then looked down, “I know. Pretty manipulative.” I felt Celie’s hand on my arm and looked back up. Her face was very soft with a smile.

“Stop, Seb. You need to be proud of yourself. You are doing things differently. You have learned from your past, grown, and come a long way in accepting yourself. Warts and all. You have shown Emma who you are, even the parts you don’t like so much. She can have credit for how she’s responded to you, but you deserve the credit for being brave enough to show her in an honest and authentic way. That allowed her to respond in an equally honest and authentic way.”

I grabbed a tissue from the ever-present box on the table and wiped the wet from my face. Neither the first nor the last time I’d cry in this room.

"If you had met her even a year ago, with her exactly as she is now, this relationship would be very different."

"The wedding."

"Excuse me?"

Yeah, non sequitur. "I was supposed to go to a friend’s wedding last summer but didn't because there was a change in my shooting schedule. Emma was at the wedding. You're right. Had I met her then," I shook my head. “I wouldn't have been ready for her and now could have never happened."

Celie shrugged, "Probably not."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "How do I get her off this pedestal I’ve put her on?"

"You seem pretty smitten. Maybe not take her off, just lower it a little." I laughed and she went on. "What you do is own your part. You have been making choices to improve yourself. You have been making choices to go out of your comfort zone. And you have been making choices to let her know you. Emma's been making similar choices to be with you. I'm sure you know what she's come through to be where she is. It seems like you complement each other. Recognize this is both of you waking up and choosing to be with each other. Talk and negotiate what that means. Tell her what you want. And when you're not talking you listen. Listen to what she needs from you. The most important for you is to keep processing the feelings with her. She's the only one who can help those make a picture. And you need to give her the same gift. She has things she’s not so proud of and afraid for you to know about her. We all do. You will need to accept her and treat her with gentle kindness she gives you.”

I was crying again. "She told me. I told her she was different than the others. She asked if maybe I was different."

Celie snickered, "I like her."

"You would. She speaks therapy."

"I want to be very clear, Seb. She sounds wonderful and she may make you better. You sound wonderful and I bet you make her better too. That’s how it should work in a relationship. You help each other along. It takes two people with self-awareness making choices to do what it takes. You both have to choose growth, honestly, humility, vulnerability, and sacrifice. I hear you holding up your end. I’ve not heard you do this before. And while she may be the right woman, you've become the right man. Please, please, do not underestimate how much work you've put in to become the right man for another person.”

"I want to go home and cry for an hour or so."

"I wish Emma was here for you."

I shook my head with a grimace, "It's going to be ugly until I get it out."

"Yes. I think Emma would want to be there to hold you and you'd find more acceptance and comfort in that than you can imagine."

At home, I grabbed a beer, sank down in my favorite chair, and cried. I felt everything all at once but fought to untangle the threads. Sad was remnants of the past and dissipated quickly. Its friends regret and shame fought a little harder to stick around, but they were toxic and needed to go. Pride and relief were together too. Celie was right. I had worked hard. An infinite number of hours had gone into figuring myself out. There have been so many times I thought I'd be stuck forever. Sometime in the last two years that I've been without a girlfriend, all the work must have come together. In the last two years I've been filming almost nonstop. Five movies have come out. Two of which were Marvel circuses. It's like all the therapy (and the work that goes with it) knitted me back together while I was busy filming and living my life. Celie had told me to trust the process. I couldn't rush it or make changes happen before it was time. Patience. I am inherently impatient. Pride was for the work. Relief was for seeing results. Finally.

Next was happy. I’m in a good place. I'm excited about the movie I’m making. I have supportive, fun friends, and a loving family. I don't need a girlfriend to be happy, but one does bring everything together. I like having a person who is mine. Mine in the sense of us experiencing life together. The good and bad. I like that. I want that. And now I have it. The beginnings of it, anyway.

After I pulled my shit together, I wanted to talk to Emma. I wanted support. Maybe not support, but I felt raw. I wanted someone to soothe the raw nerves, to sit with me while all this new stuff integrated. I wish she was here. What I needed was a hug.

Sebastian ~ Can you talk?

I don't like that I asked. It feels insecure and I have zero reasons to feel insecure. I quickly decided to cut myself some slack.

My phone rang and I connected to FaceTime. "Hey." Her bright smile and obvious happiness to see me did wonders to soothe those raw nerves.

Emma's face went from a smile to wide-eyed concern. "Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look like you've been crying. What happened?" Before I could answer, she jumped to a correct conclusion. "You had therapy. Good, bad, or cathartic tears?"

"Mostly the last one."

Her hand went to her chest, "Ok." She picked up what I assumed was her iPad and crossed to the chair in her bedroom. I could see her pull her knees up when she put her feet on the ottoman. She rested the iPad on her knees.

"Mostly a repeat of what we talked about Sunday. Celie said I wasn't giving myself enough credit for the work I've done. My growth."

As Emma had alluded to the same thing, I expected a smile or some acknowledgment of her asking if I was different. Instead, I got, "What do you think?"

"I think I still need to work on not being so hard on myself." I smiled because that statement was me still being hard on myself. "When Celie pointed out how I've changed I could see it and was proud of myself. I can’t see it on my own yet, but I'll get there. I never thought anyone would get past my walls. It wasn't someone getting in, it was me getting out." More goddamned tears.

Emma reached out and touched the screen. "I‘m so happy for you. Proud of you too."

Her words felt like a hug. Close enough for now. "Thank you."

"I know you're a grown man, but I wish I was there. Crying alone sucks."

"Oh," I laughed a little, "the chances of us having a messy reunion are high."

"Why?"

"A lot of you and I talk today. I know me, it's gonna hit me when I see you."

"I should warn you. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."

I smiled at her exaggerated southern accent with the "Steel Magnolias" quote. "See ... gonna be messy."

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

9 notes · View notes

jungkookfeelz · 5 years

Text

Not What You Expected 6

Description: After years of dating Min Yoongi and starting a life together, he ends your relationship out of nowhere. Will you finally find out why the love of your life left you in the cold?

Words: 3K

Notes: Well that’s that. If you have any questions, or suggestions for future work, message away! I hope you guys enjoyed this series, I can’t tell you how thankful I am with all the support so far. Thank you so much. ^.^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why the fuck are you laughing" Yoongi yelled, it wasn't time to play games with him, he wanted answers. You understood that this was a serious situation, but you couldn't help but start to laugh. You doubled over and held your stomach to relieve some of the pain. You were thinking of something completely different but finally understanding why he left you made you question everything. As soon as you stopped laughing, you wiped a tear and looked at Yoongi, who is glaring at you with a raised hand holding still his phone to your face

"Because Yoongi, that" You pointed at the phone "is my brother"

"He's your....what?" Yoongi stuttered. How could he not know that was your brother, you have been dating for so long and haven't been told about your sibling?

"My brother, I know I didn't tell you about him and I will take responsibility for that, but why wouldn't you ask me first? Why do what you did? You could have talked to me, like a mature adult, I was going to tell you when I surprised you in America that I met with my brother but you didn't give me that chance" You put your head down, looking at your hands. You had to close your eyes and count to ten in your head, you needed to be calm

"Since when do you have a brother? " Yoongi diverted your questions. It didn't make sense that you could have a brother and not tell him unless you're lying again, which was the best option he could go with. "Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying to you, but you don't get to ask me all these questions after everything" You demanded. You wanted to tell him, but not because he forced you too. "All you really need to know...to help you deal with your bruised ego is that I always had a brother but had a falling out with him because of my parents selfishness and didn't want to burden you with knowing my past that even I don't want to remember" You were pissed, you would never lie. You promised him from the day he asked you to be his that you would never lie to him, you would never go back on your word even if you weren't together anymore. "I wanted to move on, and you gave me that chance to be the person I have always wanted to be, I didn't want to remember how shitty my life was before I met you and the rest of the boys. It is my fault that I didn't tell you but that shouldn't have been an excuse for what you did to me...I trusted you and you took that trust and left me in a foreign country to fend for myself and try to get home on my own, not even bothering to give me one fucking phone call to make sure I made it back safely. I have always been there for you, did everything for you, and for you to automatically assume that I could betray you like that is just disgraceful" You took a moment to breathe before continuing your rant. "and how fucking dare you belittle my name in my own workplace, get me fired and laugh about it, you turned our treasured relationship into nothing in front of people who I considered my best friends and some random fucking stranger, who by the way I know you only brought to antagonize me. I have never been as disgusted by a person's actions as I am with yours." You sneered, pointing a finger at his chest. You couldn't explain how good it felt for you to finally tell him what you have been feeling for months, you now were the one breathing heavy, your face hot with too many negative emotions. You didn't cry. That, you were proud of.

Yoongi didn't say anything, just staring at his ex-lover wide-eyed. He never knew that you had a terrible childhood, he understood why you didn't tell him but it hurt knowing that you suffered and he didn't know. He wonders what could have possibly happened between your family that teared up your relationship with your brother but he knew he wasn't in any position to ask anymore. Yoongi never expected to hear this, he never realized what kind of situation he put you in since America, he was so worried about his own feelings that he forgot to make sure you were okay, he even told the rest of the guys to never contact you even though they really wanted to, he went as far to go through their phones and delete any contact information they had to reach her.

He knew there were no excuses for his actions, he formed his mouth to say something, anything but he knew that he couldn't make the issue any lighter. How did we come to this?

You ran around the kitchen grabbing and throwing ingredients in a mixing bowl. Yoongi was finally coming home after a two-month tour with Bangtan and you couldn't be more excited You wanted to bake him a cake but it wasn't going to great, you lost track of time and realized that Yoongi was coming home in about two hours and you haven't even picked a cake yet. You grabbed a cup of flour, in the process of walking to the kitchen island where the mixing bowl was, you tripped which resulted in all of the flour to land all over your body

"Oh no," You moaned, you looked down at yourself, dissatisfied with how you looked. You put down the measuring cup and tried to wipe yourself down, not caring about the floor.

"What is going on?" You whipped around and saw Yoongi standing at the doorway of the kitchen with a suitcase beside him. He smiled at your cute appearance before opening his arms, inviting you to a hug. You grinned from ear to ear before running at him at full force, tackling him. He caught you with ease and hugged you tight to him

"I missed you so much baby" He mumbled into your ear, chuckling at how disastrous the kitchen looked

"I didn't even hear you come in"

"I can see you were preoccupied

"Hey! Don't tease me, I wanted to make you a cake but it's not working" You frowned, getting out of your boyfriend's grasp.

"Hey, hey it's okay let me help you" He grabbed your hand before dragging you into the mess. He took an egg in his hand and looked over at you, you were trying to figure out how to clean up the kitchen, he walked right behind you and cracked it on your head. You gasped in shock, jumping in surprise.

"What's next? Milk?" Yoongi chuckled, reaching for the milk

"NO! What are you doing?" You screeched, Yoongi cocked his head to the side in confusion

"I thought we were making a cake?"

"Yeah, in a bowl. Not on me!"

"But I thought you're my dessert" Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at you blushing in embarrassment.

You giggle and shake your head "Oh my god you perv" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Yah, Taehyung stop it" Yoongi muttered, trying to sleep as Taehyung had kept poking his Hyung to wake him up "I'll kill you" the younger boy laughed at his Hyung's threat, not believing it for a second. After a few more pokes Yoongi has had enough

"You little shit" Yoongi jumped out of his seat and tackled Taehyung to the ground causing a bunch of giggles to burst from the other guys in the room. What made Yoongi stop was when he heard something clatter to the ground, right away the room silenced. Because Jin was the closest to the two boys on the ground he picked up the black box that fell out of his friends pocket

"What is this?" Jin asked what everyone was thinking

"Well since it's out, I guess I have to tell you" fiddling with his hands, Yoongi looked at all the boys in the dressing room slowly getting ready to perform as they were about to go on stage in their world tour, currently performing in America. He got up and patted his jeans clean from falling on the ground. "I'm planning to propose to Y/N, and I need your help" Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the rapper, clear shock on their faces.

"Holy shit, seriously? I didn't know you were ready for that yet" Namjoon spoke first

"Yeah, are you sure you're ready for this?" Hoseok asked after the leader. Yoongi didn't hesitate to express his emotions. He isn't normally good at that but he needed to let his best friends know.

"I love her, I can't imagine my life without her. She means everything to me, I would drop everything just to be able to wake up next to her every day" but before Yoongi can finish his small rant they were interrupted by their manager, telling them they had to get on stage.

"Let's do this" Jimin beamed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After the successful show, they all went back to their dressing rooms to cool down before going back to their hotels to rest. Yoongi took out his phone while the rest of the guys were busy getting ready to leave and saw a missed call, realizing it's a number he didn't know he ignored it thinking it's probably a scam. Dropping his phone, he took off his jacket and set it on the couch beside his chair, fanning himself. While he was wiping off the sweat on his face his phone started ringing. He glanced at his phone, he noticed it was the same number as before, he frowned deciding to answer it anyways.

"Hello?" Yoongi answered

"Hello, Mr. Min Yoongi, this is Kim Ha-Joon, a reporter from the Indigo Korean Media Company, I have some information for you, are you alone?" Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion

"What is this about?"

"I have some information regarding your partner Y/N, I just sent you a document regarding her activities while you were on tour. Since this is my job to report this to the media, I decided to tell you in advance...as a courtesy, unless you're willing to pay me to keep quiet, please look at the document that I sent. Call me back when you have come to a decision, hope you had a pleasant day, goodbye" The line went dead.

"What the hell" Yoongi muttered to himself, quiet enough for the other boys to not hear. He pulled the phone away from his ear and went into his Email, to see what kind of document the reporter was talking about. As soon as he clicked on the photos his heart stopped. Y/N was photographed walking into another man's home with the timestamp of 3:17pm, the next photo was her walking out at 5:12pm hugging the man on the front porch, another waving back at him before getting into her car. He started to shake, his breathing wavered. He didn't know what he was seeing, all he knew was that it was making him sick., he wanted to throw up. Yoongi quickly walked out of the dressing room and into the bathroom across the hall, pushing the stall door open with a loud 'bang' he fell to his knees and released all the pain into the toilet bowl.

It's been a few days since Yoongi found out about you, about your betrayal. He didn't tell any of the other boys yet, pretending that everything was okay, even though you did something unspeakable, he protected you. He still loved you. Yoongi was walking through the hallway, taking his time to meet the other boys in the dressing rooms. Apparently, there was a surprise that he needed to be there. He didn't want to be around anyone but he couldn't really tell anyone, making his emotions go crazy. As he walked closer to the room he heard laughing, but more specifically...your laughing. The innocent giggle that passed your lips. Yoongi couldn't help it, he felt outraged, how could you laugh like you did nothing wrong? He dashed into the room, looking around quickly before spotting you, laughing with Jungkook.

“You shouldn’t have come here Y/N” Yoongi sneered “I didn’t want you to come here, nobody did, you’re just getting in our way” Yoongi didn’t even hesitate, didn’t stutter. He looked at you with hatred, no matter how much he wanted you here he couldn't stand another second pretending nothing had happened. “Get out” Yoongi held his ground he didn't want you to see the pain in his eyes as he said this. Yoongi knew that the guys were going to freak out on him later on but he didn't care. Yoongi noticed your face pale when he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the room knowing you wouldn’t say or do anything to stop him. As soon as you were out of the room Yoongi slammed the door in your face. He stared back at all of the bewildered faces of his band members

"What the fuck was that Yoongi!?"

"Hyung!"

"What are you doing!?"

"Why would you do that!?"

He could hear a few of the members scream at the same time. Seeing you made him snap, his eyes started watering and his breathing shook, he couldn't hold his pain in anymore, he started sobbing, turning around facing the door he just kicked you out of. His heart shattered. The rest of the members forgot about the situation with Y/N, making the health of the broken rapper in front of them the number one priority. They wrapped their arms around Yoongi and comforted him, they all fell to the floor only hearing his loud sobs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You waited for a response for a few minutes now, watching Yoongi stand there, flabbergasted. You sighed, pushing your hair back from your face.

"Yoongi, you need to respond at some point, I don't have all day" You stated

"I...just...I don't know what to say, is that actually your brother?" He managed to get out.

"Are you serious? You still choose not to believe me? you're so infuriating" frustrated, you put your hands on your hair and pulled, walking back and forth in his small studio.

"You can't blame me, this is...this is a lot to take in, you were supposed to trust me, we were in a serious relationship, you should've talked to me"

You glared at him "I could say the same for you" at your statement, Yoongi visibly cringed, he couldn't tell if it was because of what you had said or the terrifying look you had given him. You were too tired to stand anymore so you walked over the couch by the desk and sat down, putting your hands on your face, leaning forwards onto your legs. You didn't know what else to say, you had said practically everything you wanted him to know.

Lost in your own thoughts you didn't notice Yoongi sit next to you on the couch until you felt his knee touch yours. You tense up trying to move away from him slowly to not gain his attention. You straighten up to be able to get his form into your line of vision, to make sure he didn't come any closer. You didn't know if you would be able to stop yourself if he touched you, really touched you.

"I'm..I'm sorry Y/N"

"I don't need your apology, I needed an explanation" You looked at him again, seeing him look so defeated and guilty you gained confidence in yourself "and so I got that, maybe it's time that I left...for good" when he didn't respond you got up sighing, you at least thought he would put up a fight after finding out that you didn't actually cheat on him. He grabbed your wrist before you could get anywhere and stood up slowly

"Is there any way you can forgive me?" His voice was quiet, he wasn't confident in himself anymore.

You took a few moments to think about a response, wanting to give him and yourself the right answer "I think so...in the future" nodding your head towards him. Yoongi frowned

"Do you think you could ever take me back?"

"No." You didn't hesitate. You don't trust him anymore, no matter what he could do to change your mind you wouldn't be able to. You know what he can do when he feels threatened and you don't want to be on the other side of his wrath anymore.

"Oh," he pulled his arm back like he was electrocuted. No matter how much he deserved this he didn't want to hear it.

"I'm sorry" You didn't have a reason to be but felt like it was appropriate to say it at this time, Yoongi shook his head, telling you he understands where you are coming from, he wouldn't go back to himself either if he were you. "I have to go now, take care of yourself Yoongi, don't make the same mistake with the next lucky girl to capture your heart" You smiled. You wanted to leave this conversation on a good note, somewhat. It broke your heart to say goodbye to him but you knew it was for the best, for both of you.

"...goodbye Y/N" he whispered, his voice cracked saying your name. You turned around quickly not being able to look at him anymore and walked towards the door, you opened the door and let yourself out, closing the door behind you quietly before leaving his life for good.

Admin Min <3

#im not crying u r #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts #bts jimin #bts hoesok #bts namjoon #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts taeyhung #bts jin #bts one shot #bts imagines

99 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: Love, Maybe? {19}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Fluff,

Word Count: 5K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. 3 years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

Note: Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 19: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

-Chris-

Dinner. It was simple. A meal. A simple meal. No big deal. If it wasn’t a big deal, he had no idea why he was standing in his closet not moving. He hadn’t moved in near twenty minutes. He had every intention of moving, that was the plan. He came in here to find something to wear for said dinner, and then he thought about what he should wear, and he froze. He didn’t know if he should just go the jeans and a Henley route, or dress pants and a nice polo, or maybe jeans and a nice polo. There was just too much to choose from. Then he wondered what you’d be wearing.

“If she’s dressed up and I go looking like a frat guy it’ll give her the wrong impression. What impression is it I want to give off though? What if I go dressed up and she has on jeans and a tank? I’d look like an idiot.”

He groaned and raked his fingers through his already combed hair. With his hands at the back of his neck, he pounded it as he loudly groaned again.

“Get a fucking grip, Chris! It’s fucking dinner!” He scanned the clothes in the many wardrobe cabinets and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“What do you wear to meet your nearly two-year-old daughter for the first time?”

He snorted and laughed though this was no laughing matter. He was trying. He had to try. He always thought the day he’d meet his daughter would be the day she was born. It was ironic he’d wanted his firstborn to be a daughter. There was something about a father and daughter relationship he envisioned to be so precious, so special. He watched how close his father was to his sisters, watched how much he loved them especially during particular points in their lives such as father-daughter dances at school, dance recitals, their wedding day and things of that sort.

“I have a daughter.” He’d been trying to get used to that fact over the last several weeks, he’d said it out loud to himself now five times, and each time it felt foreign like he were having an out-of-body experience. Each time he said it he felt the nervous ball in his belly tighten.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” With that very real possibility, his hands stopped. He didn’t know what he’d do if she wailed at the top of her lungs every time he got close.

“I’m a stranger.” His phone rang, and he quickly grabbed it off the counter in the center of the room and answered without looking to see who it was.

“It’s been weeks, Chris! are you kidding me!?” Lita’s shrill voice rang out. He held the phone away from his ears and groaned.

“Shit, Lita.”

“What the fuck do you mean “shit, Lita?” Did you forget about me? I can’t believe you right now!” He slowly brought the phone back to his ears and sighed out. He’d been so occupied he’d forgotten all about her. She was no doubt still pissed at him for walking out on her at the restaurant.

“Lita, I’m sorry. I--,”

“Sorry? For what exactly, leaving me in a restaurant to do god knows what? Or not calling me for weeks? I don’t know what the fuck you want Chris. You reached out to me. You said you wanted to try again. You!”

Her voice was getting to him. He knew he made a mistake the minute he sent her that text those months ago. His heart wasn’t in it, and now on top of the mess that was currently his life with you, she was now an added stress. He stood there and allowed her to continue; she didn’t give him an opening to talk anyway. After nearly ten minutes he’d had enough.

“Lita, enough!” Finally, her silence gave him an opening. He sighed before he began. “I’m sorry for running out on you, that was a shitty thing to do, and I have no excuse for the dick move. I’m also sorry for not reaching out; it’s been a crazy few weeks. I have a lot going on right now and no it’s not an excuse, it’s the truth.”

Lita sighed before she began again, “What do you want, Chris? I am getting the feeling it’s not me.” He thought about her words. They were true. He didn’t want her. He hadn’t wanted her in a long, long time, and he really didn’t even know if he ever truly did.

“God, you’re a dick, Chris.”

He rubbed his forehead once he knew he was going to hurt her. “I’m sorry, Lita.” She released a breathy sigh. “Don’t call me again, Chris.” With that she hung up. He dropped his head to the surface and hit it once, then twice.

“Don’t beat yourself up too much; you know it was never going to work.” He looked up and saw Anthony there. “I fucked up.” Anthony crossed the room while nodding. “Yeah, you did. Planning on stopping fucking up?” he rolled his eyes and turned back to his clothes and stared at them again.

“What’re you doing, bruh?”

“I am trying to figure out what to wear to dinner.” Anthony leaned against one of the cabinets. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll probably just go to one of the usuals. I’m sure they picked some steakhouse.” He closed his eyes and shook his head again. He’d forgotten about the plans he’d already made.

“Shit, I can’t make it tonight, Mackie.”

“What do you mean? What dinner are you talking about then?”

“Vixen. We talked, and I’m having dinner with her to meet—Ella,” he explained. Anthony looked surprised.

“Wow. The last time we talked, you sounded furious after the meet at the diner.”

“I was, I am. I’m still furious, but--.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve already missed so much time man, so many things.” Anthony nodded.

“I get it. I’m glad you two could be grown-ups, although I didn’t doubt she could be one. I always got the vibe she was a mature one. Not like the birds you see here in LA.” He scoffed, he had to be kidding. You lied to him for damn near three years and hid his child from him. “If you say so, Mackie.” He pulled out a pair of black pants and the white shirt he’d been staring at and walked into his bathroom, deciding a leather jacket would go well.

“Where’s dinner?” Anthony asked from outside. “Her place.”

“Okay. You nervous?”

“Man, I stared at my clothes for almost thirty minutes trying to find the right thing,” he informed before he walked back out fully dressed. “Good choice, not too stuffy. You don’t want her to think you’re too desperate.” He snorted and perused the box he held his jewelry. “I’m not desperate.” Anthony patted his back before he walked out. “Whatever you say, man.”

He stood there second guessing himself for a few moments before he walked back out. “I got a great idea man. I’ll go with you,” Anthony piped up.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll be your moral support during this big moment in your life,” Anthony explained. He saw right through the bullshit though.

“Whatever. You know this is about her sister.” Anthony gasped and gave his best confused look. He rolled his eyes and walked out and downstairs. He had an hour and a half before he was to get there.

“Her sister? Naw man, this is all about being a good friend to you.” He laughed, unable to contain his amusement anymore. “Wow, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen you hypnotized by a woman.”

“Ay man, don’t get it twisted, I’m not hypnotized.” He turned as he was picking up his car keys and looked to Anthony, giving him the “who you bullshitting” look. Anthony tried to give his best poker face, but it was a shit one.

“Fuck, fine, it’s about her sister,” Anthony admitted. “She’s beautiful, stubborn and interesting. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. So, I figured I’ll go with you and maybe while helping you help myself.” He thought about it for a moment; it wasn’t a bad idea. “Fine, but don’t piss her off so she’ll piss Vixen off.” Anthony rose his hands up in surrender.

The two of them piled in the car and drove through the night to the address you’d given him. As the miles decreased, his nerves increased, and anything Mackie was saying went in one ear and out the other. Thankfully he was sure it wasn’t anything important. Traffic wasn’t bad and what would have taken him forty-five minutes only took him thirty. When he parked in front of your house he had close to fifteen minutes to kill. He stared at the outside of the house and wondered how it looked inside. You looked like you kept a nice home like it was neat and smelled like flowers and candy all the time. The thought made a faint smile decorate his lips.

“Do you plan on getting out the car and ringing the bell?” He groaned and shook his head.

“I’m early. I’ll look really desperate if I ring the bell now.” Anthony kissed his teeth, got out the car, and slammed the door extra loud as if to announce himself.

“Mackie, are you kidding me right now?”

“Man get your ass out the car. Sitting there like a little punk.” He hit his head on the steering wheel, then reached in the glove compartment and took out the bottle of wine and the bottle of whiskey and the gift-wrapped package then climbed out. Taking a final breath, he walked around and up the walk path to your front door. Once at the door he just stood there. After a few seconds Anthony looked to him and shook his head as he reached for the bell. He quickly slapped Anthony’s hand away.

“Fuck Mackie, give me a fucking minute.” Anthony raised his hand and stood there quietly. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. This was it. There was no going back, and a lot was riding on tonight. He breathed out and decided he was as ready as he’d ever be. Slowly he rang the bell and said a silent prayer.

~~~~~~~~~~

-Vixen-

“Fuck!” You shouted into the fridge as you heard the doorbell. Nexus snorted loudly and laughed. “Oh my god Vix, what the hell!” You narrowed your eyes at her. Slowly she stopped laughing and walked over to you. Nexus handed you the glass of whiskey she’d just poured for you.

“Here, psycho. Drink it and let it do its job.” Quickly you took the glass and drank down the half glass of whiskey. It burned like a son of a bitch, but it didn’t take long for the burn in your belly to dissolve the nerves.

“Better?” You nodded and took a few breaths.

“It’s just dinner, Vix. One meal. All you have to do is eat and answer any questions he has about Ella. Everything else will be pie.” You nodded and brushed your hands down the front of the dress you wore. “How do I look? Are you sure it’s not too chill?” You looked over yourself in the casual sundress.

“You look good. It’s not too casual,” Nex assured. “Does it show nipple? Is it too short?” Nexus laughed again just as the bell rang again. “Chill out will you. Deep breath.” You took a few deep breathes and tried to calm yourself. “The past is just that, the present is a gift and the future is yet to come. Mold it.” You smiled at Nex reciting your mantra and felt a lot calmer. You walked to the door, and Nexus walked toward Ella’s bedroom. Taking a final breath, you plastered a political smile on your face and opened the door.

“Fuck!” Anthony snorted and covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. You closed your eyes; you didn’t mean to say that out loud. You didn’t expect him to look that good. “Eh-em, sorry about that. What I meant was hi.” Anthony laughed again. “You sure? Fuck sounded a lot better. I’m sure that wasn’t geared to me though. It was for this guy right here.” Anthony patted Chris’s abdomen, and your eyes dropped to where he touched. You remembered what that area looked like. “Then again that is what got you two crazy kids in this situation,” Anthony finished.

“Jesus Anthony,” Chris hissed out before he gave you an apologetic look. He wasn’t wrong. Fucking was what had gotten you here, incredible fucking, mind blowing fucking, hot, sweaty, toe curling, over six orgasms fucking. You had to bite your tongue in order not to moan. Clearing your throat again you smiled again. “What’re you doing here?”

“That’s a damn good question!” Nex stood beside you crossing her arms. Just like that the slick smile on Anthony’s face fell as he stared at her. All eyes fell to him, and he looked to Chris who gave him a look you couldn’t decipher. Anthony cleared his throat. “Nexus, I’m sorry,” he began.

“You said you did nothing wrong? Only people who’ve done wrong apologize,” Nex added. “Yes, I didn’t do anything wrong, but you think I did so I can be man enough and apologize. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I am sorry that I did.” You looked over to Nex and saw that he was wearing her down. Interesting, you thought. Usually, it would take a lot more. “Thank you for apologizing.” The four of you stood in the doorway in silence for a few moments. You smiled, sort of relieved their drama had given you a reprieve from yours.

“All right, I’m going to go now,” Nex began. “What? Go? Go where? I thought you were staying.” Your panic was evident.

“No, I don’t need to be here. You don’t need a chaperone.” You grabbed her hand when you saw her take a step to walk out. She looked at you and squeezed your hand reassuring you. You slowly let her hand go, and she nodded.

“I will go with you if it’s okay,” Anthony offered. “So much for that support huh.” Anthony shrugged and gave Chris a toothy grin.

“Have a good dinner you two,” Nex said as she walked toward her rental car in the driveway. You and Chris stood there and watched the two of them pile in the car and pull off. Once the headlights disappeared Chris turned back to you. Realizing you were still standing in the open doorway you opened the door wider and waved your hand inside.

“Come in.” He walked inside allowing you to close the door and it was there the two of you stood in the foyer as silent as monks on their vows.

“Oh, here I brought these.” Chris held up his hands, showing you the goodies. “This for you--.” He held out the bottles to you. Smiling, you took them and felt more relief than you should once you saw the whiskey. “This will come in handy.” Chris snorted and nodded.

“And this is for—Ella.” You smiled at the pastel pink wrapped package. As if hearing her name, she came barreling down the hall cutting in front of Chris to crash into your legs. “Mama!” You scrunched down, placed the bottles on the floor and hugged her. “Hey baby. All done cleaning up?” She nodded rubbing her face. “Ah duh.”

Ella turned around, leaning her back against you and looked up to Chris. They stood there staring at each other, him with a look of awe and her just blank assessment. You wondered what she was thinking and if she were confused. She’d never seen you around a man. Never known any other man but your father. You felt guilty.

“Ooh you,” Ella inquired. Chris may not have understood her, but you did. Ella turned to you and pointed to Chris. “Ooh mama, ooh?” You were speechless again. What did you tell her? Did you just blurt it out and hope for the best or ease into it very, very slowly? Chris then sunk down to her height and stared at her small frame. She looked back at him again and took a step to him but stopped. As if asking for permission she looked back to you.

Trying desperately to hold back your tears, you cleared your throat and prepared to breach the topic. “I’m Chris.” You were grateful he took the lead, but you noticed he didn’t call himself her father. “Cwis. Wike me,” Ella added looking to you then back to him. Chris smiled. It was a smile you remembered from back then, a real one. “Like you?” Ella nodded her head and took another step to him. “What’s your name?”

“Cwis Ewa.” The way she said her name made him laugh and that in turn made Ella laugh. They laughed together, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You didn’t realize Chris was looking at you until another tear rolled down. The emotion on his face was evident and it was there the three of you stayed without one word until Ella turned back to you.

“Mama cwy.” She wiped her small hands across your cheeks, and you smiled and wiped the rest of tears away. “Are you hungry baby? She nodded again and clapped her hands. “Come on.” You scooped her up and began walking away toward the dining room where the table was already set.

“Wow, it smells incredible.”

You smiled as you slipped Ella into her highchair. “Thank you.”

What’s for dinner?”

Ella banged her hands on her highchair and squealed, “pagetti.” Chris smiled. “You like spaghetti?” Ella nodded her head in response to Chris’ question. As you shared her food into her toddler plate you watched them. Ella traced patterns on the top of her highchair with her finger, and Chris watched on with an amazed look. You set her plate in front of her, and she clapped before she dug in completely ignoring her fork.

“A little or a lot?”

Chris leaned back and patted his stomach. “Are you kidding? I love Spaghetti, and it’s not every day renowned chefs cook for me so pile it on please.” You snorted, shook your head and scooped the food onto his plate.

“I don’t know about renowned, you’re just exaggerating.” Once you’d plated it you walked over to him and leaned over his shoulder to put his plate in front of him. “Thank you.” You nodded and took your seat next to Ella and served yourself.

Dinner was painfully quiet except for Ella’s babbles and humming and occasional outbursts. The two of you ate in silence and watched her. Every time Ella squealed out or patted the surface of her highchair Chris smiled. He looked completely awestricken. Every time she smiled or did something adorable he smiled, but there were times that even though he smiled he looked sad. You knew you were to blame. You really felt horrible for how everything played out and hoped he knew that. Every once in a while, his eyes met yours before he looked away either back to Ella or his plate or some spot on the table. You wondered what he was thinking because he was next to impossible to read.

After about an hour and a half the bottle of wine was done, and so was the food. You lifted Ella out her highchair and took the top off, ready to bring it to the kitchen. As you walked you heard Ella’s footsteps behind you and the heavy footfalls of Chris behind her. You kept your back to him and focused on cleaning the top. You felt him come up next to you. Looking beside you he held out the two plates.

“Thank you.” You felt Ella’s hands on the backs of your thighs.

“Mama red.” You looked back and at her and saw she still had pasta sauce all over her hands. “Oh no, Ella, tell me you didn’t.” You spun around, trying to get a look at the back fo your dress.

“Ah did,” she said before she laughed. “Uh-oh, she did.” Chris pointed to your dress, and you could see the tiny handprints on you. Groaning you looked to your daughter and scooped her up. You tickled her all over her body. Ella giggled and squealed her delight.

“No mamma no. Top, top.” Her protests fell on deaf ears, and you continued until you finished off with a barrage of kisses all over her face. “Ha, now who did it?” She laughed again, and you nuzzled her cheek. “Mama siwee.” You smiled and looked across to Chris who was leaned against the island with an uneasy smile on his face. He looked like how one would look if they were constipated on a date but tried to put up a good front.

You leaned to the sink and washed Ella’s hands before you put her down. “Oovie Cwis?” He looked to you as if asking for a translation. “She’s asking if you want to watch a movie.” He nodded and smiled back to Ella.

“Yes, movie please.” Ella ran off, and he looked to you. You nodded your head giving your permission for him to proceed. He followed her out the room, and you took the brief moment to take a few breaths.

When you walked into the living room, Ella was digging through the movie cubbie with several choices already sprawled across the floor. Chris was sitting at the edge of the couch just staring at her. “What movie honey?” She held up her choice and ran to you.

Once you looked at the cover you groaned. Fate just wouldn’t give you a break. “Is it a bad one?” You looked to Chris and shook your head. “No, not bad.” You showed him the cover, and his eyes lit up.

“The Little Mermaid.” Ella jumped up and down. “Momaid, momaid!” Chris smiled widely. “That’s my favorite movie.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you looked between him and his tiny replica, both excited for their favorite movie. You scoffed to yourself and put the film in. “My favowit. I wuv wittle momaid.” Chris nodded. “It’s really good,” he agreed.

Once you sat back on the couch, Ella climbed up and onto your lap then moved your arm so she was cocooned in it. You smiled and kissed the top of her head then gently rustled her sandy blond hair. Chancing a look at Chris the butterflies in your belly sped up when you realized he was already watching the two of you. He looked away when the movie started.

Throughout the movie Ella talked to the tv and sang along to the songs as they were being sung. A lot of times she even stood in your lap bringing Chris’s attention and smiles. You wondered if his heart was melting as yours always did when you watched her. Did he feel the connection to her that you did?

From the tv you heard the beginning of “Kiss the girl,” and you fought with everything in you to keep your eyes glued to the tv. You could feel Chris’ eyes on you no doubt remembering your wedding and you walking down the aisle to it. Ella perfectly and on cue imitated the sounds of the animals and you lost your shit at the irony. You busted out laughing and no matter how you tried to stop you couldn’t. Ella laughed too, and it was then you looked at him. He looked amused but as if he were trying to hold it in. When Skuttle squawked again to the tune Ella imitated him, and you buried your face in your hands as your laughing fit ensued. It wasn’t until the scene ended were you able to return to normal.

Once the movie finished, Ella was asleep on the couch. Her head was on your lap, but her legs were stretched toward Chris. The crescendo of the closing credits filled the room, and both of you just stared at her small sleeping body. Neither of you made any moves, so you sat there in silence watching your daughter. After another thirty or so minutes passed, you shifted. Ella flinched but moved a little too close to the edge of the couch. Chris’ hand flew out to shield her from falling at the same time yours did. You looked at your touching arms and moved it back until your fingers grazed his in a slow dance. Your fingertips blazed with an electrical current that traveled up your arm. Chris pulled his hand back and looked away.

“I’m going to put her to bed.” He nodded, and with that, you stood, scooped Ella into your arms and walked toward her room. Once there you undressed her and put her into her jammies and tucked her in. Making sure to turn on the nightlight and take the monitor you closed the door behind you and walked to your bedroom determined to change.

When you returned, the living room was cleaned away, but Chris wasn’t in it. You looked around and saw the back door was open. Deciding a drink was in order, you walked in the kitchen and opened the whiskey bottle. You then grabbed two glasses and filled a small bowl with ice. Stepping outside you saw him sitting on the deck staring out. You approached and sat in the empty seat close to him. “Figured it was time for a real drink,” you joked putting the things you carried down. Chris looked to you and gave a small smile. While you poured drinks for the both of you he watched you. “To Spaghetti, The Little Mermaid and whiskey.” Chris laughed before he hit your glass and took a sip of his drink. You weren’t so modest; you gulped the entire thing down.

“Wow, this I good.” He nodded but looked far away.

“She’s amazing.” You nodded. “Yeah.” He smiled. “So smart and funny and so stinkin’ cute.” He was right on all accounts. “So stinkin’ cute,” you repeated.

“Wow.” Silence. “We made a good one,” you said without thinking. He looked at you again, and he looked like he had so much to say.

“I’ve missed so much. I don’t know anything.” After pouring another, you downed it. “What do you want to know?”

He took a deep breath and tried to wipe the pain off his face. “What were her first words?” You smiled. “Food.” He snorted and laughed. “Hand to God, it was food. Then mama, then yes, then no. After that it was all over she knew all she needed.” Chris laughed again.

It was a sound you were beginning to love again. “Was she a good baby?” You nodded. “She was. She barely cried, ate well from the beginning. She was a happy baby; I lucked out.” Chris nodded and looked away from you. “This hurts Vixen.” Those words broke you, and the dam broke then your tears flowed.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You sniffled and tried to dry the tears, but once you did fresh ones came. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.” Hearing him say that hurt more than you thought it would. You’d expected it, prepared for it but hearing it was more than you could handle. “She doesn’t know me. She calls me Chris, and I know it was the right move not to go too fast, but it still hurts.” What did you say to take someone’s pain away from something you did to them? How could you ever come back from this?

“I know I can’t give the last two or three years back to you. I can’t fix what I did. Yeah, she doesn’t know you now, but she is so chill, so easy going that it won’t take long for her to know you, or like you. I fucked up; I know that and I’m sorry for it, but I can’t change the past.”

“Would you want to? If you could go back, would you do anything differently?” That was the million dollar question. You knew the outcome of this path, and while it was painful it was still the known versus the unknown. “Who’s to say that if anything would have changed back then if I would have told you when I found out that this situation would have been any different.”

He looked at you incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now, Vixen? We were married. Everything could have been different?” The butterflies began again. “How? Would we have shuffled her between San Fran and LA? Jumped her from your multiple movie sets? Called each of your booty calls auntie?” It was unfair to throw that last one at him you knew it. Chris took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“I am not the same man I was when you knew me. I haven’t been that man for a long time.” Your head flashed to your last night together and the things he’d said. Was that man who would say those things gone?

“I was an asshole, a super dick. That night with us at my house--.” He paused as if trying to find the words. After a few moments, he didn’t speak again, and you decided it was best just to leave it alone. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what you’re talking about. It doesn’t matter.” Chris searched your face then looked down and nodded. “How do we do this?”

“One day at a time I guess,” you responded. “I don’t want to take her from you, Vix. I just want to be in her life.” The two of you stared, and you knew he meant what he said, and there was no maliciousness behind his words. Sighing you nodded.

“You will be.” Sitting quietly for a few minutes he snorted and shook his head. “So, for the last three years you’ve been listening to our wedding song on repeat?” You laughed and nodded. “It’s been utter hell and torture; she loves it!” Chris laughed louder, and you joined in.

~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@sarahboseman @heyauntieeee @airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24 @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711@geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97 @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@sweettea-and-honeybutter@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld@cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @great-neckpectations @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushroom

#love maybe fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

219 notes · View notes