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starlightxsvt · 4 years

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Sweeter Than Sweets l pt. 3

Pairing ➳ CEO! Seungcheol x female baker!reader

Genre ➳ fluff, romance, slight smut

Warnings ➳ light cursing, some nudity, implications of sex (forgive me if it's bad, this is my first time trying to write smut)

Word count ➳ around 4.1k

A/N: Here's the third chapter~ I'm really sorry for the delay. If everything goes according to plan then there's only one more chapter left! Thank you for giving this series such love, it means a lot to me. Happy reading!

part 1 l part 2 l part 3

Part 3: THE WEDDING

"It's okay, you're gonna be fine," Seungcheol throws a smile at you as you both stand at the front door of his parents house. You continue to smooth out your beautiful champagne coloured dress and touch your hair out of nervousness.

You are here. At his parents house.

The door is opened by a maid who welcomes you into the house. You both step in and take off your coats and you follow Seungcheol to the huge living room, where his mother sits with a book in her hands.

She squeals seeing Seungcheol, adoration crossing over her features as she wraps her arms around him and kisses his forehead. "You're here! I was worried you wouldn't show up!"

"You deserve a chance to get to know ___. She's amazing," his compliment brings warmth in your cheeks as he pulls you closer to his side.

His mother grins looking at you before pulling you into a hug, "Yes yes, of course." She kisses your cheeks before a soft bark comes from behind you and you turn to see a white fluffy toy poodle, wagging it's tail, eagerly staring at Seungcheol. The man in question grins before picking it up, "Heyy, Kkukma!"

"She's our family dog. Loves Seungcheol a bit too much," Seungcheol's mother explains and you smile, nodding before gently petting the dog who licks your hand in return.

You laugh. Seungcheol kisses Kkukma's forehead before announcing, "You guys continue chatting. I'll go play with Kkukma."

You swallow, watching him disappear into the garden and his mother grins at you, "Let me show you around."

His mother walks you through their elegant house while asking about how you met Seungcheol and such. You speak the rehearsed lines and she believes them easily, making you feel somewhat bad for the poor woman.

"Seungcheol really isn't good with women, you know," his mother says while you're served a cup of tea after finishing the tour.

You offer a smile in reply and take a sip. She continues, "He used to like a girl quite a while ago. Told me that he wanted to marry her. But sadly, she turned out to be a leech who was using him for his money."

"That's... awful," you frown. Seungcheol never told you about it. But then again you're his fake lover and you mentally curse yourself for getting too much into your role.

"I take it he didn't tell you about that," She smiles. "Don't worry, he's long over her. That just made him shut himself out more. He assumed that all women were after his money but I'm glad to see he found someone like you."

You cringe inwardly. You too, are here because of money more or less. You are doing all this because he promised you a shop.

"Me too," you agree with her, playing along. She smiles. A sound catches both of your attention and you see Seungcheol's father standing at the entrance of the living room, his wary eyes casted on you. You almost choke but quickly redeem yourself by standing up and saying hi. He disregards you completely with a grunt and walks away murmuring something unintelligible.

Seungcheol's mother sighs loudly, "I'm so sorry about him."

"It's okay, I understand. Seungcheol told me about him." You mutter.

His mother offers you a sad smile. "He's been so mean to Seungcheol. To us. It was my mistake that I married that beast."

You say nothing, just stare at the cup in your hands.

She continues, "I would have divorced him long ago but he would have taken full custody over Seungcheol. I couldn't win against a man like him and I couldn't loose Seungcheol."

"I see," you whisper. His mother gently holds your hand, "I sincerely hope you won't take his words to heart. He has always been like that. Nothing we do can make him happy."

You offer her a smile, "It's really okay, Mrs. Choi."

"Minsoo, please. You're gonna be me daughter in law soon," she smiles sweetly at you. "Which reminds me! We need to set a date!"

Warmth spreads on your face as you smile, "Yeah..."

And so she starts discussing with you about the dress the venue and such and you find yourself enjoying her company. She's kind and gives full attention to you and it fills the void created by your own mother. You know you're going to miss this woman after you're divorced.

Everyone gathers at the dining table during lunchtime, including Seungcheol's father. The environment is tense as Seungcheol takes a seat beside you, opposite to his parents.

Seungcheol drops a kiss on your temple and smiles at you, flashing his dimples and you almost melt into a puddle right there. Shit, have you got it that bad?

His father's eyes bore into the two of you, clearly disapproving.

Lunch starts as Seungcheol's mother initiates conversation with her son about work. It goes well for a while- you enjoying the served food and listening to them talk- until Mr. Choi decides to break it.

"What does your parents do?" He throws at you.

Seungcheol frowns, "Father-"

You stop him by squeezing his hand and smiling at him, "It's okay, babe, he should know."

Your eyes meet Mr. Choi's, "My mother separated with my father a long time ago so I don't have contact with him anymore. My mom runs a restaurant at the suburbs."

Mr. Choi is unimpressed, you can see it in his face as he seems to judge you even harder. Mrs. Choi, however, has a different reaction, "Oh dear! It must have been hard for your mother. I'd like to meet her sometime soon."

You smile at her, "My mom kind of isolated herself after the divorce but of course, I'll let her know."

Shit, you haven't even told her you're getting married yet.

Mrs. Choi's smile is kind as she resumes eating. Mr. Choi scoffs before grunting, "I still don't understand why you chose her, Seungcheol. I know you've always been stupid but now I know you're on another level, choosing her out of all women."

Wow. You're left dumbfounded at his straight forwardness. Beside you, Seungcheol grips the fork tight as his mother tries to chastise her husband. "Hyungmin, watch what you're saying!" she shrieks.

"What?" His glare is intimidating. "She's neither rich nor pretty. Your son could've had a better looking woman yet he-"

"Enough!" Seungcheol seethes making you jump.

This...isn't gonna end well.

You open your mouth to stop Seungcheol but he bangs his first on the table, teeth gritting, "What is your problem?" He glares at his father.

"I should ask that to you." His father is expressionless.

"All my life I've tried to be a good son, I tried to be good to you no matter how much of an asshole you were to me, to mom. I've accepted that you hate me, I've no problem with that but for once in your life, can't you be supportive of me?!"

His father scoffs, "How can I when you bring a thing like her?"

Seungcheol looks like he's ready to jump on his father as he bellows, "I swear to fucking God-"

"Seungcheol!" You grab onto his arms, trying to stop him as Mrs. Choi starts sobbing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"This is why I don't like coming here!" Seungcheol hisses at his mother before jerking free from your hold and marches away.

Seungcheol's father stands up, rolling his eyes, "And you expect me to hand my company to him?" It's directed to his wife.

Angry tears steam down Mrs. Choi's face, "He'd be a better president than you ever were! Your company has come this far only because of my son!"

Her words land on the back of Mr. Choi who blatantly ignores his wife and walks out of the room.

The room is silent except the sounds of Mrs. Choi, trying to get her tears under control. You hand her a tissue and sit silently, watching her dry her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes casted down.

You offer her a small smile. Mr. Choi's words hurt you, definitely but it's not the end of the world. He's gonna be present in your life for only a small amount of time.

"It's alright, Mrs. Choi, it really is."

She sighs, gazing upon you, her eyes filled with...love. She stands up to embrace you in her arms and holds you there; your head to her chest as you listen to her breathe.

It's comforting and you feel a tear slip down your eye.

Seungcheol walks you all the way to your door like the gentleman he is. His mood is still sour and the car ride was filled with tension. You couldn't really blame him though.

You smile at him, "His words doesn't matter to me. I hope it's the same for you. You don't need to be stressed about what he says to me."

He looks at you, those rich brown eyes looking exhausted and he does something you never expected even in your dreams.

He hugs you.

His strong arms are wrapped around your small frame, your head pressed to his chest. Your heart beats furiously in your chest.

Is this really happening?

You inhale his scent deeply and when you wrap your arms around him too, you can't bring yourself to care. You want to feel him, to hold him. So you two just stand there in front of your door in each others arms for a long time.

"Would you like to come inside?" Your voice is small and shy as he pulls back to look at you. Shaking his head, he does yet another surprising thing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Holy mother of gods-

Your face is on fire, undoubtebly. Your mouth hangs low as you stare at him. Did he just...

He takes your silence as yes and leans in to press his lips against yours. They're soft and plush and he tastes somewhat bitter and sweet from the wine you had at his parent's house. It's addicting and you can't help but moan. He only dives in deeper, kissing you with such passion and need that you're left breathless.

He pulls back, his smoldering gaze on you and licks his lips. You swallow. Your panties are wet, fuck. You want to climb him like a tree but you can't bring yourself to move, locked in a trance.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead that brings you back to reality and he mutters his goodbye, hurriedly ushering you in.

After you're in the safety of your home, you touch your swollen lips, mind traveling back to the kiss.

He kissed you.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you.

"Yes, I'm getting married," you repeat once more to your mother who stays silent on the other side of the line.

"Mom?"

"That's... sudden," her calm voice floats through. Yeah, and I'll be getting divorced too.

"Yeah, we've been dating for more than a year and yeah...he proposed me."

"Wow... nice." She pauses. "Did you fix a date yet?"

"Um, not yet but it's in the next two or three weeks. Also...Mrs. Choi wanted to meet you. Maybe...you could come and visit her sometime...I don't know." There's an awkward tension- it always has been ever since your dad left.

"I'll see if can manage time," she says.

"Okay..." You're about to hang up but her voice wavers through, "And send me a picture of your rich fiance."

"Oh, yeah, I will."

SOME WEEKS LATER

Jane squeals seeing you step out from behind the curtains. You're almost ready with the gown on and your makeup done, only the veil left to be put on.

"Oh my god!" She screams with glee, a grin on her face. "You! Look at you! Oh my god!"

You look gorgeous, undeniably. The wedding gown is almost too beautiful to be real and an expensive purchase, selected by Mrs. Choi. Your makeup and hair is done neatly and you almost don't recognize yourself. Jane only squeals from behind you time to time, saying how amazing you look.

"You're forgetting that this isn't a real wedding," you remind her, your tone bitter than you intended.

Jane raises a brow, "Why do you sound sad?"

Warmth covers your face, "I'm not!" It is a cheap lie, you do feel sad and you know that deep down you wished this was real.

Shit. You've got it really bad.

"Aww, babe," Jane hugs you tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Who knows, Seungcheol may fall head over heels for you after seeing you in this."

You roll your eyes, "Not even in my wildest dreams."

A knock on the door interrupts you and your mother steps into the room, dressed in a cream colored dress, her hair neatly done. It has been a while since you last saw her dressed up.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Jane excuses herself, stepping out of the room.

"Hey," you smile tightly. She returns it. "You look beautiful," her words are short and her eyes are teary. There's a short silence before she sighs loudly,"I know I haven't been the best mom...but I'm really proud of you, I hope you know that."

You sigh; you really don't want to cry before your wedding- fake wedding. "It's okay," you give her a small smile and sit down in front of the mirror, "Can you help me with the veil?"

She steps in behind you and starts setting up the veil on your hair, speaking, "Seungcheol is a nice guy, I had a chat with him earlier. He'll take good care of you."

You resist the urge to heave out a sad sigh. Instead you grin as brightly as you can, "I know, right."

She finishes putting the veil on you and you stand up, looking at the mirror, gathering all the last bits of your courage.

"I could walk you down the isle you know...it doesn't always have to be dads," your mother whispers.

"It's okay, I'll do it on my own," you avoid her eyes. This is a fake wedding and you don't want her to walk you down the isle, no. Maybe when you get married for real one day- but not this time.

Giving your mother a quick hug, you step out of the dressing room.

The isle looks dreadful. Walking on a path full of thorns bare feet would've been easier. Seungcheol stands at the other end, his full attention on you. You inhale deeply and take small steps towards him- all the while his eyes on you. You are intimated and in the back of your mind you can't help thinking that this was a very bad decision. You feel pathetic. A bride without anyone to accompany her down the isle. A greedy woman agreeing to a fake marriage. A liar, lying to everyone through your teeth.

Each step only gets harder to take and after what feels like an eternity, you reach the end, stopping in front of him. His face doesn't give away anything. A small part of you wonders if he thinks you look beautiful- you hope he thinks that.

You take a step and get on the wooden stage with the help of his extended hand. The priest begins the ceremony. All the while, Seungcheol's eyes are dark, glinting like a predator who has finally captured his prey.

He smirks. "I do."

With tears burning in the back of your eyes, you repeat after him, overwhelmed with emotions.

When he leans in for the kiss, you forget to breathe as your lips meet and he kisses you softly yet passionately. The guests cheer for you and when you look at them, you see joy, contradicting to what you feel. For some reason tears threaten to slip but you smile, forcing them away.

One fake marriage can't end your life.

You enjoy the rest of the ceremony more than you thought you would, all the worries slipping away from your system as you watch everyone celebrate. Time to time you take peeks at Seungcheol to see him staring at you- his eyes dark and intense, sending a shiver down your spine.

You've spent a good amount of him hanging out with him during the weeks before your wedding, either at his apartment, yours or a nice restaurant. You've only found yourself more drawn to him as you spent more time and after each date ended you wanted him to kiss you like he did after that visit to his parents' house. Unfortunately for you, Seungcheol kept his hands totally off you, only giving you quick forehead pecks as goodbyes.

As your eyes connect, sitting next to each other after the dance, you find yourself craving for him. You want his hands all over you.

Is that wrong?

A sudden, new wave of embarrassment hits you as you enter the limousine after the ceremony. Seungcheol helps you get in before entering through the opposite door as you quickly collect your beautiful dress together and sit quietly, staring at your lap.

It's almost 9 o'clock and the traffic has faded away. Seungcheol is taking you to his penthouse, a place you've only heard him talk about, a place he said you'd enjoy living in.

You wonder how the next couple years would be. How will it be like to live with him? Will you sleep in the same bed every night? Will he even enjoy sharing his house with you? What if he hates having you around?

"Are you ignoring me?" Seungcheol's voice pulls you back to reality.

You try not to appear shy and flustered, "Huh? No, no I'm not."

"You've been awfully quiet since you've walked down the isle."

"Just... thinking." You reply meekly. Damn it, why do you feel so shy?

There's a silence as Seungcheol looks out the window, hands under his chin. You take the moment to appreciate his profile, ogling him unashamedly. You really, truly, want to be in his arms. And you should probably get your head checked.

"Do you regret doing this?" He asks suddenly.

"No! No, I do not," you protest to which he nods, understanding.

After a beat if silence his hand gently cups yours. You stop breathing. "I'll try to make your living as comfortable as possible. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any problem." His expression is serious and you nod, throat dry. He smile is soft, showing just a bit of his dimples as he holds onto your hand, not letting go. You try to calm your breathing which proves to be an impossible task whenever you look at your joined hands.

After almost an hour drive, the limousine stops and your breath is sucked out as you get out of it. In front of you stands a huge building with the fanciest design and you can't wait to see what's inside. Seungcheol helps you with your dress and casually holds your hand as you both walk into the elevator. It heads for the seventeenth floor and during that whole period of time Seungcheol doesn't let go of your hand. When the elevator stops and you both step out into a large lobby, leading to his penthouse. Seungcheol swipes the card to open the door and it's only after you step into the apartment that he lets your hand go.

You probably look like a deer in headlights as you gawk at the beautiful home, equipped to unbelievably expensive appliances and delicate designing. With high ceilings and full length windows and beautiful pieces of furniture and marble fittings it's too pretty to touch.

All the while Seungcheol's eyes are on you, amused at your reaction. "You like it?" He grins.

"I...wow," you're speechless. "This is...huge." You say dumbly. Seungcheol laughs heartily before once again taking your hand, "Let me give you a quick tour."

And so he does, showing you around the house, the huge kitchen connected to the living room, the library, the study room the guest bedrooms and finally stopping before the master bedroom.

A king sized bed lies by the huge windows. There's a closet with an amount of space you could only dream of. The master bathroom is almost the size of your studio apartment and a wave of embarrassment hits you. Will you ever get used to this? You only feel more embarrassed when you remember that this isn't yours forever.

Shit, ___. Get a grip.

You plop down on the large fluffy bed and pry off your heels from your aching feet. You watch as Seungcheol stands in front of the dresser, slowing undoing his bow tie.

There's a small moment where you both lock eyes before you cough loudly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Instead you quietly take off your earnings and reach for the buttons behind your dress- except, your hands can't reach them.

Seungcheol sees you struggling, "Let me do it for you." You almost let out a squeak, feeling shy and excited. You stand up as he appears behind you and starts to unbutton your dress, slowly.

It feels like eternity as you stand, holding your breath, blood pumping loudly in your veins.

Seungcheol's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, "There, done." He says that but doesn't move from behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as the cool air hits you back. You, too, seems to be stuck on your place as you can't move a muscle. Your conscience slaps her head, what the hell is wrong with you?

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Seungcheol's mouth is extremely close to your ear and you can't help but squeak, warmth spreading through your body like wildfire.

"You look lovely, so beautiful," His voice is deep as he strokes the column of your neck before turning you to face him.

Your eyes are wide like saucers and your face is on fire, literally. Just being this close to him, with none around, makes your brain stop functioning.

He leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, without any warning whatsoever. Your tongues collide and you let him take the lead, his hand grabbing your ass, unashamedly.

"Tell me if you want me stop, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You grab onto his broad shoulders and pull him towards you again, meeting your lips once more. Of course you want him. You've wanted him since God knows how long.

While peppering your face with kisses, he pushes down your gown for you to step out of it. The cold air makes you shiver as you're left in a lacy white underwear with garter belts. Seungcheol's eyes move over your, taking in your figure. He swallows before pushing you down onto the bed and climbing over you, hurriedly taking off his suit jacket and shirt.

His eyes are locked on yours and your heart is beating a mile a minute. He looks like some god, his black locks messy and his chiseled face staring down at you, his strong body on top of you. You can't stop yourself from ogling his torso when his shirt comes off, leaving his toned muscles and biceps for you to see. Before you know it, you're reaching out to touch him. Your fingers dance over his chest and abdomen before your eyes meet and Seungcheol groans, cupping your face for another kiss.

He's quick to strip you off your bra while literring your neck and chest with kisses and bites. After fully undressing you and taking yet another unembarrassed look at your body Seungcheol asks, "Are you sure?"

You whine, needy and impatient, "Yes, please, Seungcheol. Fuck me." You're surprised at your own eagerness but it only turns Seungcheol on, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"My pleasure sweetheart." He whispers before going down between your legs.

Soft morning light hits your face, waking you up in the process. It takes a while for you to assess everything and you feel your body, especially lower half, ache deliciously- an aftermath of the numerous orgasms Seungcheol gave you yesterday night.

A strong arm is wrapped around your waist from behind, making you feel warm and safe. You sigh, playing with the wedding ring on your finger.

You're married now. To Choi Seungcheol. Shit.

Instead of letting your mind start overthinking, you gently turn around to face your husband, careful not to wake him up.

He lies there, fast asleep, his beautiful features relaxed, the morning light giving him an angelic glow. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out to stroke his face, your gentle fingers tracing his skin. He's so soft, so beautiful. Your heart constricts, thinking about how much you want to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

You'd be more than happy to be by his side, sharing a home with him, helping him whenever he's in need, making a family-

A sudden realisation that you tried to bury all this time dawns on you, bringing tears to your eyes.

You're in love with Choi Seungcheol.

Taglist: @chimikima @all-i-needislovee @peekabooseoksoon @masterpiecejoonie @sorrywonwoo @sweetiescoops @diamondsvts @insidesvt @bononswife @ayla-hathway @kpopssuregi @justasoftstan @top-crop @wainrain @jisungsdreamy @moon-asia @rocketink @hobis-hopeworld @coppertrashi @honeyyjihoon @seoulnights5 @rjsmochii @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme @mimaisiomai @gyubagebin @chrryhwa @junsfei

A/N 2: Please know that reblogs hold a special meaning to writers, so if you enjoyed it please reblog. And if can spare a few seconds, kindly reblog with comments. The feedback I get from everyone encourages me to write, so please do that 💖.

Also, Choi Seungcheol please come wife me up.

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musedblues · 3 years

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A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door.

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice.

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to.

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips.

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights.

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any.

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look.

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you.

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles.

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you.

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits.

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback.

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response.

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate.

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his.

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast.

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy.

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?" John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked.

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist.

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while.

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side.

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much.

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home.

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach.

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye.

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?"

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke.

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner.

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab.

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be?

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less.

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day.

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness.

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable.

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true.

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you."

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye.

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow."

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before.

What a jam...

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business.

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away.

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for.

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention.

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system.

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John.

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John.

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment.

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life.

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene.

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who.

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved, happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away.

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting.

"Then kiss me, John."

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you.

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything.

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you.

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd.

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back.

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-"

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all.

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now.

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again.

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next.

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut.

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction.

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off.

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along.

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better.

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control.

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in.

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work.

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another.

Then you heard your mother. She shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent.

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt.

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world.

And the best you could do was wait. Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year.

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into.

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened.

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night.

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?"

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get.

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice.

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos.

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence. "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try."

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at.

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction.

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from.

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand.

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators.

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most.

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes.

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from.

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once.

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan.

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought.

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you.

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore.

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning.

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm.

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond.

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered.

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver.

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning.

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled.

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby."

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration.

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled.

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused.

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more.

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here.

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose.

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London.

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no.

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning.

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #john deacon fanfiction

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