#if the chapter coming out at noon is even more romantic...... i am going to explode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gguksgalaxy · 4 years

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Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug. Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.

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silhouetteofacedar · 3 years

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Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 14: Day Tripping

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder awakes the next morning with his face crammed into his pillow, squeaky leather couch cushions groaning, and for the first time in years he thinks maybe he should get a bed. For his own sake, of course; sofas aren’t meant for long term sleeping, and his joints aren’t getting any younger. It seems prudent to invest in a bed frame, a good mattress, maybe some nice sheets.

And hell, if a certain small redhead happens to come by…

He has a slight crick in his neck, but it fades into the background as his memory replays the night before. Pad Thai, Scully’s big blue eyes, ice cream, soft lips under the cover of branches. Requited affection at last.

He doesn’t know where they’ll go from here, but he’s eager to find out.

He waltzes into the basement office, freshly showered and shaved and wearing his least offensive tie. Scully’s already there, digging through her briefcase.

“Morning, Scully,” he says cheerily, dropping into his chair and searching her face, attempting to make eye contact.

“Morning,” she replies, not looking up.

“I had a, uh, good time last night,” he says in a low voice. “Best night I’ve had in years.”

She nods, cheeks faintly pink. “It was nice,” she says carefully.

Something’s wrong.

“Scully, are you okay?” he asks, leaning in.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replies, exhaling softly. “But I don’t want to talk about this now.”

Disappointment and dread creep into his chest, spreading a chill like midnight frost.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asks, voice suddenly small.

“No,” she clarifies, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m not, I promise. It’s just that things look different in the light of day, and I’m adjusting.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” he says, worrying the end of a pencil between his teeth.

“It’s not meant to,” Scully replies. She sits down opposite him and reaches into their inbox on the desk, hauling out a stack of files. “It’s just the truth.”

They’re quiet for a long moment before she reaches out and places a hand atop his on the desk, squeezing gently before withdrawing it and returning to leafing through files.

She knows exactly how to comfort him, to communicate that things are alright, they’re alright, and that he doesn’t need to worry right now. A paragraph in the touch of a hand. Their eyes meet, and she gives him a tentative smile, causing warmth to bloom in his chest once more.

They sort through potential cases for an hour before Mulder makes a triumphant sound in his throat.

“Got one, Scully,” he announces, handing her a file. “Equine mutilations in Gettysburg. Wanna go check it out?”

Scully opens the folder and immediately frowns. “Not really, but if I say no you’ll go anyway,” she sighs, flipping through the pages. “And then when you get lost in some cave or stuck in the bottom of a well or something and are in need of a rescue, who’ll inform the local authorities? Oh god,” she says in realization. “I’m Lassie.”

“There’s a filthy joke in there somewhere, Scully-”

“-And right now’s not the time to find it,” she cuts in, giving him a patented eyebrow arch.

“Let me know when that time’ll be,” he says in a low tone. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Dead horses, Mulder,” she reminds him, waving a gruesome photo. She sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mulder’s in a great mood. The sun is out, they have a case, and he kissed Dana Scully last night. Twice. He’s actually humming as he drives, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Nothing lights you up quite like mutilated livestock, Mulder,” Scully observes, shaking her head. “What are you hoping to find? More vampires?”

“Civil War ghosts, actually,” he replies, adjusting his mirrors. “Think about it, Scully. Those wounds lacked the consistent placement and patterns we usually see in ritualistic killings, nor did they resemble animal attacks. I’ll bet if we compared the wounds with weapons and ammunition from the era, we’d get some matches.”

“To what end?” Scully asks.

“If I’m right, we’ll see some ghosts. If I’m wrong, we’ll stop some sicko from slaughtering more horses. We can’t lose.”

“Hm,” Scully replies, the brief exhalation steeped in skepticism. He knows the meaning of each little hum and sound of hers at this point.

Well obviously not all of them, he thinks, pulse quickening. But soon.

“So,” he says, cracking a sunflower seed between his teeth, “About last night.”

“It happened, if you were unsure,” she confirms. “It was real. I was there.”

“Funny,” he quips. “No, I know it happened. I just wanted to make sure you were okay that it did. You seemed a little uncomfortable when I came into the office this morning.”

Scully sighs deeply, and Mulder braces himself for a rejection he’d always feared would come.

“Mulder, yesterday I told you that I spent years repressing certain facets of how I feel about you,” she reminds him. “And only yesterday I found out that… that I don’t need to do that anymore. I’m simply adjusting. It’s all very new, and seeing you this morning in our office… you looked the same, everything looked the same, but I felt different. Frankly, it was jarring. It was like watching two planets collide; Mulder the colleague and friend, and Mulder the… the lover,” she says quietly.

Lover. The words gives him a thrill. “Am I your lover, Scully?” he asks softly.

“Well, you did kiss me twice,” she replies matter-of-factly, “So I think you’re on your way.”

“Then that makes you my lover,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re right; this does feel kind of weird.”

“Not a bad weird,” Scully clarifies. “Just… new. I think we just need practice.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Mulder agrees, flashing her a grin.

Scully rolls her eyes, turning to look out the window as though to hide the smile creeping across her face. “Just drive, Mulder.”

They get to East Cavalry Field at half-past noon, just in time to enjoy the sights. Namely, the latest victim, a Clydesdale named Morris. The warm spring sun pours down on them and the fallen animal, illuminating the gore spilling from its lifeless body.

“Well, Mulder,” Scully says flatly, snapping on a pair of gloves, “You sure do know how to show a girl a good time.”

They drive home six and a half hours later, having gathered little new information. A musket ball, borrowed from a local museum, rolls around one of the cupholders.

“Mulder, are you sure they said you could take that thing back to DC?” Scully asks, glancing at the ball. “Why didn’t they put it in some kind of bag or envelope?”

“What are you implying?” Mulder asks, plucking the ball out of the cupholder and awkwardly tucking it into his pants pocket.

She just gives him a look.

“Civil War musket balls aren’t that rare, Scully,” he informs her. “You can buy them off history buffs for a couple bucks.”

“Mulder, my feet hurt, and I’m exhausted. At this point I don’t care anymore.” She doesn’t even bother to stifle her yawn. “And I spent the day poking around dead horses, even though I’m not a veterinarian or a munitions expert. You owe me.”

“Alright, what do you want in reparation?” he asks. I can think of a few things, but we’re not there yet…

“I don’t know. Take me out on a date,” she says flippantly. “We never do anything nice. Preferably something with no mutilated corpses.”

“Damn, that really narrows down the options,” he jokes. “But sure; we’ll go do something nice.”

“Let me know what it is ahead of time,” she adds. “So I know what to wear.”

God, she’s adorable.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, and he can feel his heart pulse.

They’re doing this for real.

#my fic #txf fic #xfiles #msr #fox mulder closet romantic #fmcr #tafuckingda

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it-was-summer · 4 years

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Video Killed The Radio Star - Chapter 5 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content in the past two days, I have been working a little more this week and certain things happened that made me a little depressed. I am feeling better and I am hoping that you all enjoy this new chapter! Please reach out if you ever have any questions or send me a message if you would like to share any theories!

Warnings: Talk of addiction, just emotional garbage, let me know if I missed anything!

Plot: Spencer Reid extends an olive branch. We explore how Y/N is dealing with the aftermath of her abduction and how she is dealing with it all.

Word Count:3.1K

You were screaming, your ears were ringing so it was all muffled, but you could feel the air leaving your lungs. But, before you could see anymore of the gruesome sight in front of you, a newer and prettier sight blocked your vision. You only recognized him from the photos you found of him, Spencer Reid.

If you were in a different situation, preferably one where you hadn’t just watched someone’s head get blown to bits, you would feel embarrassed. He opened his mouth and that's when all sound returned “Y/N,” you could hear your sobs “Look at me.” Your eyes were shifting anxiously, trying to look behind him to see Heather. Spencer moved his head with yours, his eyes fixed onto yours.

You tried to speak, but all the words were lost as you sobbed, you took in a deep breath before you managed to say "Dr. Reid,” Spencer tried to hide his surprise, he knew you had researched the team, he just didn’t expect you to call him Doctor right out of the gate. “I want to go home.” you pulled in a desperate gulp of air, trying to calm down. Spencer was about to reassure you that you would be home soon, but the EMTs were already moving you. Your eyes caught one last look at Heather’s exploded head before your body went limp on the gurney.

Spencer watched the paramedics take you out, a surprising feeling of anxiety rising in his chest as he watched them leave before he turned around to focus on the corpse behind him.

You woke up to the sounds of steady beeping, eyes opening to confirm that you were in a hospital bed. Your foot was in a cast, carefully suspended as you looked around the room. You could see your mother right outside, talking to someone that you couldn’t quite see from your position on the hospital bed.

Your mother looked over her shoulder and saw that you were awake, gasping gently in awe. She worked her way back into the hospital room with a relieved smile on her face. “You’re awake,” she sighed happily, reaching for your hand. She was looking for something else to say, finding herself at a loss as she stared at her only child, her only daughter. Her eyes met yours and you gave her a tight smile.

“Hi, mom,” you said in a voice so quiet, knowing that your throat took some damage from all the screaming.

“Hi, honey,” she began to cry tears falling silently as she held your hand tighter.

“Excuse me,” a timid voice interrupted the moment.

Your attention was pulled towards the voice, smiling quickly at the sight of Dr. Reid standing there as he fidgeted with the strap of his bag, looking incredibly awkward as he did so. “Dr. Reid!” you exclaimed as your bed rose slowly so that you could sit up in the bed, you looked for the button, only to find that your mother was the one who was pressing the button.

Spencer returned your smile as he shuffled closer to the bed, “You can just call me Spencer.” He kindly informed you. “We usually don’t visit, but I, well, just wanted to see how you were doing.”

You swallowed nervously, not knowing how to answer him, “I’m alive,” you settled with a nervous chuckle, Spencer let out a tiny scoff and nodded in agreement. You turned your head towards your mother, “Can I get a moment with,” you began to say doctor before you stopped yourself, “A moment with Spencer, please?” you begged your mother sweetly as you saw the hesitation in her eyes. That was natural, of course, because her daughter had just been abducted for a good four days.

But, she left nonetheless smiling at Spencer as she did so. You cleared your throat softly, you knew that as soon as you spoke about it, the abduction, you would break. You motioned for Spencer to come closer with a grin, waiting to speak till he was at the side of the hospital bed. “You saw my videos,” Spencer blinked at your statement, waiting for you to continue. “I thought I was going crazy, seriously. Then when it happened, she,” you felt your voice crack, “She was horrible. I’m so scared, so scared, that I’ll never be able to recover.” You croaked softly, stealing a glance up at Spencer. “Will I be able to recover, Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he was being thrown into the limelight with that question. He knew the correct answer was a simple yes, he could just say yes and leave it at that. His time with Tobias made him see things differently, made him want to be more inspirational, to be more open, but it was hard. “You’ll be able to recover. It’ll take time, but you can.” was all he could manage before he was digging into his bag to look for a pen of some kind. “If you ever need anything, I could,” he found a sharpie, “Could I give you my number?” He asked, holding up the sharpie with a tiny grin.

“Are you allowed to?”

“Well, I don’t think-”

“I was kidding, Spencer.” you pointed down to the cast on your foot. “Would you be the first to sign my cast?”

Spencer uncapped the pen, writing his name in bold lettering followed by his number underneath it. “It’s beautiful,” you laughed softly, turning your head to look at Spencer. Spencer felt a tiny shiver cross his spine as you graced him with a look of adoration. He nodded stiffly, heading over to the door. “Spencer,” you called.

“Yes?” He turned around, half expecting something from a romantic comedy to happen. Then again you were lying in a hospital bed, he doubted your mind was on the same track as his.

“Thank you. Please tell the rest of the team thank you for me too?” Spencer felt his smile return in a second, then he nodded, and he was gone.

***

March 16, 20XX

It was your third day out of the hospital. You were sleeping in your old room at your mother’s house, your mother didn’t want you to go back to your apartment and you had time off from your job, so you were sleeping in your old room. It was around three in the morning when it happened, you could feel something pressing onto your stomach. The memory shot through you as you sat up in a cold sweat, looking around for her. She wasn’t there, of course, thank god she wasn’t there.

You stared up at the ceiling for a while after that, waiting for sleep to crash down on you, but it never came. Every time you would close your eyes you felt, suddenly, numb, you could feel morphine in your veins. The part that scared you the most was that when you opened your eyes you missed it. You missed feeling numb and that terrified you.

It was around five in the morning that you got up, grabbing your crutches quickly, silently realizing that sleep was never going to come to you as you walked out of the room with a frown.

Two hours later, your mother emerged from her room at the sound of the television playing. Upon seeing you she frowned, but you simply patted one of the cushions on the couch and she was smiling as she took a seat next to you. You wanted to tell her how you were feeling, tell her how you felt like you needed something more to keep the edge off, but guilt consumed you. You felt so guilty for worrying her, you felt guilty for waking her up, you felt like a burden. She didn’t need to know that her daughter was thinking like that, she didn’t need to know that her daughter was feeling overwhelmed. So you sat next to her in ignorant silence, watching the television play.

It was just after noon when it first happened, you caught the tiniest look of pink light, something outside of the kitchen window. Suddenly you were in the room, in the pink room again, fire spreading throughout your body. You squeezed your eyes tight, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. You opened your eyes, blinking away panic as the sight of your mother’s kitchen reassured you that you were safe.

You let out a slow sigh, rolling your shoulders back, attempting to calm down. She was dead and you were out, safe. You shouldn’t be scared of someone who can’t hurt you, but then again people are scared of the dark and darkness isn’t even a person. You grabbed a glass, filling it with tap water, and walked back to the living room with a fake smile.

March 20, 20XX

It took about four days to persuade your mother to let you go back home to your apartment. You didn’t necessarily want to leave her house, but you were scared that with all of your anxieties and flashbacks you would worry her further. It was better to let her think that you were healthy and that you were doing better.

You waved from the doors of your apartment, watching her get into her car as you walked into the lobby of your apartment. After a momentarily struggle with your crutches, you managed to get to your apartment door. You stood outside of the door, fear making the hairs on your arms stand up as you slowly reached for the door handle.

You pushed the door in, watching it swing wide open as you quickly hobbled in, removing your keys from the lock as you shut the door behind you. Carefully limping over to your desk, you plopped down onto your desk chair. You frowned as you watched your closed computer on your desk, feeling as if you should be speaking. You hated to be alone now, you never said it out loud, but you always felt like someone was watching you now. It would be at any time of the day, morning, noon, or night and you would get the feeling that someone’s eyes were on you. That, someone, was watching you, waiting for you to be vulnerable, waiting for you to slip up and do something wrong.

You scooted closer to the desk, looking down at the photos you had printed out, chuckling to yourself as you remember how you took the time to leave tiny notes on them, they were misplaced but all of the notes were still there. You had hoped that your notes made them feel better, you wrote them in guilt. You felt guilty for your videos, feeling as if they were useless to the case, but now you could see that they helped.

After a couple of hours of cleaning your apartment, or making an attempt to clean it, you were lying on the couch trying to ignore the feelings that were washing over you. In the coming days, you were a blizzard of emotions. You would get angry at little things, flinched if something touched you when you least expected it, but the two emotions that controlled you a majority of the time were helplessness and fear.

You would yearn for some kind of release from your mind, convincing yourself that if you could get your hands on something strong enough, the world would simply melt away and leave you in mind-numbing bliss. You wanted to feel nothing again, all you wanted to do was stare at the ceiling and let your mind be empty. Right now, for example, you were alone and everything was silent, and yet your mind was screaming. Screaming in a silly panic that someone was in your apartment, screaming that something bad was about to happen, and in the darkest of times crying that the wrong person died in that room. If you were simply numb, you could float out of your mind and feel as if you were normal for a couple of hours, maybe you would feel less helpless.

Fear would enrapture you daily with a simple memory. You would wake up in the night, chest burning, phantom pain spreading through your chest as you felt a paring knife dig into your skin again. You knew you were safe, but something as simple as a kitchen knife made your heart race. That wasn’t normal, you knew it wasn’t normal. You just didn’t know who to talk to, you couldn’t think of anyone.

So you were lying down on your couch, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to think about anything else but the abduction. There was a fleeting thought, one involving Spencer Reid. He had given you his number to call if you ever needed to, but every time you would punch the numbers into your phone you would stop yourself from pressing the call button. Convincing yourself that he simply gave you his number to be nice, not because he was trying to be your friend. You realized how painfully stupid you sounded, but you decided you were right and left it alone for now.

March 21, 20XX

You were lying in your bed, feeling soft air fan your face as you opened your eyes. You smiled seeing him next to you, you couldn’t make out his face but you were comfortable with that. You let out a giddy giggle as you felt his hands wrap around your torso. You went to say his name, but that’s when you woke up.

Your heart was racing as you rolled over to your right, letting out a secretly disappointed sigh as you saw that no one was there. Heather had left you hating most romantic things, you had a personal thing against roses now, but even she couldn’t ruin romantic dreams. You were happy those were yours to enjoy still. You rolled onto your back, pressing a hand into your chest as your heart thundered in your chest. It had been so long since your last romantic endeavor, well unless you counted Heather as a romantic endeavor, which you did not. You were happy being single, but certain things would happen that would make you suddenly feel very, very, lonely. You loved, love, but you weren’t quite ready to feel it yet. Something always seemed to hold you back when in the presence of new romance, this time that thing was trauma. You couldn’t imagine being happy with anyone, especially not now.

You relaxed into the mattress, letting out a soft hum as you closed your eyes again, reliving the dream you had just seconds ago. It would be nice to have that, but it was just a dream and that was all it would be for now.

You sat up with a gentle grunt, you didn’t want today to be like the last, today maybe you would do something differently. You didn’t want to feel like porcelain today, you wanted to feel normal again. You had spent twelve days feeling broken, so maybe today could be different. You slipped one slipper on, the cast on your right leg already working as a big, hard, slipper, as you made your way towards the kitchen.

You were about to make something for breakfast, toast a bagel if that counts as breakfast when there was a gentle knock at the door. You hobbled over as fast as you could, opening it to see a man standing there with red roses. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at them. He frowned when he looked at you, apologizing for going to the wrong apartment. You shut the door quickly but stood there frozen. You felt your chest tighten as you let stray tears fall from your eyes. You walked back into the kitchen with tears streaming down your face as you put the bagel into the toaster.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, picking at your bagel as you thought about it all. You needed to think about it because you couldn’t let something as simple as a bouquet of roses make you feel so helpless. You couldn’t let that experience hold so much power over you.

It would be smarter to visit a therapist, but you were already struggling to make ends meet, no need to add to that problem. So, for now, you were your therapist. The healthy thing would be to think about the present instead of focusing on the past, however, the past was also just twelve days ago. It was possible that in this situation it was better to simply give it time. To let the pain run its course until one day you woke up and felt better, but that was just as good as not doing anything. You had to do something, it would drive you crazy to just simply wait around to feel better. That wasn’t who you were, you took a tiny bite of your bagel.

Spencer was on the plane, coming back from a case in Arizona. He was leaning his head against the walls of the plane, gazing out the window to watch the clouds. In the past twelve days, he felt particularly strange. By strange, he felt like something was in the works. He was an avid follower of philosophy, he had a bachelor’s degree in it after all, but he didn’t know how he felt about fate. A little over fifty percent of Americans believed in fate, but Spencer didn’t know which part of the statistics he fell under; the fifty percent that didn’t believe or the fifty percent that believed.

Nonetheless, he felt as if something was going to happen. It wasn’t a good feeling, nor was it a bad feeling, it was just simply a feeling. An anxious shiver moved down his spine as he watched the clouds move, he was hoping it would be a good thing.

The sun was setting now and you, having spent all day trying to decide what could help you, watched it from your window. The sky was turning a beautiful color of purple and pink, the colors mixing as you sat on the edge of your bed. You blew some hair out of your face, picking up your phone. You looked down at your cast as you typed in the number, fingers shaking with anxiety as you hit the green button at the bottom of the screen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” you smiled hearing his voice, feeling unusually calm all of the sudden.

“Hi, Spencer,”

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

Text

Trouble in Paradise

Pairing: Jay Halstead x (female) Reader, Kelly Severide x Best Friend!Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 1839

Author’s Note: So Danger Prone was originally just supposed to be a oneshot, but a couple people seemed to want a part two and I honestly thought a part two would be great and now I’m already planning a third installment of this new series.

Trigger Warning(s): Car accident mention, being held at gunpoint mention, fluff

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Y/N thinks Jay is going to break up with her, but she couldn’t be more wrong. (Second part to Danger Prone, but you don’t really need to read that if you don’t want too, because this could be a standalone piece)

Y/N = Your Name

Y/LN = Your Last Name

Part One

Tag List: @jayxuptons, @bethii1, @tonio-dawson, @drakelover78 , @lorenakaspersen (want to be tagged in future chapters of this fic? leave a comment or shoot me a message!)

It was no secret to anyone how much you and Jay loved each other. You seemed perfect together and everyone thought so.

And that was what led him to act a little screwy lately. You couldn’t understand it, everything seemed so perfect and he seemed to love you and you were happy. And then he started acting weird around you. You were worried he was going to break up with you.

And that crushed you, after everything the two of you had been through, it absolutely devastated you just to think about him breaking up with you.

So you tried your hardest not to think about it. But it was obvious that something was bothering you. Everyone at the house noticed and that was what led your best friend to plop down in the chair next to you and give you that look.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Kelly asked, crossing his arms.

You did your best to muster up a smile and shake off your worries, but it was so obviously faked. “What do you mean? I’m fine.” You hated how your voice broke on the word ‘fine’

Kelly’s brows furrowed together and he shook his head. “Don’t give me that.” He unfolded his arms and leaned towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Trouble in paradise?”

You sniffled at just the thought of what you were about to say. “I’m pretty sure Jay’s gonna break up with me.”

This shocked Kelly and it was obvious, he had only been joking when he asked if there was trouble in paradise, he didn’t actually think you and Jay would be having issues. “What are you talking about? He loves you.” The frown returned. “What would make you think that he’s going to break up with you?”

“He’s just been acting really weird lately and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s sick of me.” You told Kelly quietly, swallowing back your emotions.

“Why would you even think that? He’s lucky to have you.” Kelly told you, still frowning because this was preposterous.

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your tear filled eyes before wiping underneath them, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks because you would not cry at work over some man. But it wasn’t some man, it was Jay Halstead, the love of your life...or who you thought was the love of your life.

“I’m serious.” Kelly told you with a huff.

“What’s so lucky about having a girlfriend who’s clumsy as hell and gets herself injured or almost killed every other month?” You asked him, annoyed and frustrated, but Kelly knew better than to take it to heart.

“It’s not every other month.” Kelly told you.

“Oh really? Two weeks ago I was in that car accident, two months ago I fell through a floor on a call, a month before that I was held at freaking gun point, and a few weeks before that I fell off your boat when we went out on the lake!” You huffed out, your voice raising and gaining the attention of some of your coworkers.

“The car accident and being held at gunpoint weren’t your fault. And any one of us could’ve fallen through the floor on that call, and...I have nothing to say about the boat incident because that really was you just being clumsy.” Kelly told you, a small smile forming on his face.

You looked at him and couldn’t even muster up enough energy to give him a fake smile. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.”

Kelly sighed and patted your shoulder. “Okay, well drinks on me at Molly’s tonight.” He told you as he stood up.

You shook your head. “I don’t think-”

“Uh-uh, not taking no for an answer.” Kelly told you. “And I’m not taking maybes either.”

You huffed and smiled a little bit at him before nodding. “Yeah okay.”

“Good.”

And just then the alarm went off signalling that there was a fire and you all were needed.

The call went by fairly smoothly, all things considered. It was fairly simple to be honest and when you guys got back to the house, it was time for your much earned R and R and you all were sent home.

“Molly’s. Tonight. Six.” Kelly told you, pointing at you as you walked to your newish car, the replacement to your old car that was totaled.

You gave him a thumbs up as you got into your car, smiling a bit and laughing before you drove home.

When you got to your apartment, you went to get some sleep before getting up around noon and cleaning some. Eventually, five rolled around and you decided you should probably start getting ready to meet Kelly at Molly’s.

Jay walked into Molly’s and saw Kelly sitting at a table, he walked over to him. “Hey can I talk to you for a second?” “I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Kelly told him, motioning for him to take a seat across from him.

“Why’s that?” Jay asked, frowning a bit.

“Y/N seems to think you’re going to break up with her.” Kelly told him simply.

Jay seemed to be taken aback. “What? That’s ridiculous.” He frowned. “Why would she think that?”

“Apparently, according to her, you’ve been acting weird lately.” Kelly explained, leaning on the table. “So what’s going on? Are you cheating on her or something?”

“No, of course not.” Jay frowned even deeper. “I’ve just been trying to figure out the best way to ask her to marry me.”

Kelly was shocked by that answer. “Oh...wow.”

Jay nodded some. “So...any suggestions?”

Kelly paused for a moment. “Somewhere private.” He told him after some thought. “She hates people staring at her, and she’s a diehard romantic, but she would hate for it to be over the top.”

“Of course.” Jay nodded, chuckling a bit. “I know how she hates when people make a fuss over her.”

Kelly laughed a bit and nodded. “That’s true.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment.

“So, when are you gonna pop the question?” Kelly finally asked.

Jay hummed in thought. “Soon, especially since she thinks I’m going to break up with her.”

“Good idea.” Kelly nodded and saw you walk in from across the bar. “She’s here.”

Jay turned in his seat before getting up and walking over to meet you with a smile. “Hey.”

You looked at him and smiled. “Hey.” You said softly, trying not to let on that you thought your relationship was ending.

Jay wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked to the bar. “You got any plans tonight?”

“Well Kelly wanted to hang out here…” You shrugged a bit.

“And after?” Jay asked, looking at you.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know, why?”

“Maybe you could come over?”

You nodded slowly. “Okay…” You ordered yourself a drink and before you could pay for it, Jay had tossed some money down. “You didn’t have to buy my drink, I’m a big girl.”

Jay furrowed his brows. “And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Okay, and?” You asked, not looking at him as you picked up your drink.

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jay asked, his frown deepening. “All I wanted was to buy my girl a drink, what’s so wrong with that?”

You huffed out a sigh. “Nothing.”

The frown didn’t leave his face. “Is something wrong?” Of course he knew something was wrong, but he didn’t want to let you know that he had talked to Kelly.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jay.” You huffed out. “I just had a bad day.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and went to walk past him.

“Woah wait.” Jay said, grabbing your hand in his to stop you.

You turned and finally looked at him. “What?”

Jay took your drink from your hand and set it on the bar. “Herrmann, can you watch these for us for a minute?” He asked and Herrmann nodded, next thing you knew Jay was pulling you outside.

“What are you doing?” You asked, frowning as you tried pulling your hand from his grip.

“We need to talk.” Jay told you, frowning.

You stopped in your tracks once you guys were outside, fear filling you because you thought you knew what was coming. He was going to break up with you. Your suspicions were right. “Okay.” You said after a moment, swallowing hard.

Jay turned to face you. “I love you.”

“Okay…” You said quietly. “But you’re breaking up with me?”

Jay shook his head. “No, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so...different?” You asked, tears filling your eyes.

“Because I’m nervous.” Jay told you.

You looked at him. “Nervous? What for?”

“Because I love you and I want to ask you to marry me but I don’t know how.” Jay told you, hating that it came down to this.

You stopped, blinking a few times in shock. “You...want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.” Jay said softly.

You smiled wide. “Really?”

“Really.” Jay said softly, smiling as well. “So…?”

“So…?” You asked, looking at him.

“What do you say?” Jay asked softly.

Your smile turned to a smirk. “Well, you haven’t really asked me yet, so…”

Jay chuckled softly. “And I don’t really have the ring with me right now.” He said softly.

“You could still ask.” You told him softly.

Jay nodded a bit and knelt down. “Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking up at you.

You grinned wide and nodded. “Of course.”

Jay stood up and gently pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you so much.” He said softly.

You smiled. “I love you too.” You whispered back.

“We should head back inside.” Jay said after a moment.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” You agreed and nodded, turning to head back inside only for Jay to spin you back around and kiss you again.

“Okay, now we can head back inside.” Jay grinned.

You laughed softly and turned to head back inside again, picking your drink up from the bar and thanking Herrmann before heading over to where Kelly was sitting.

“Everything good?” Kelly asked, raising a brow at you.

You smiled wide. “Everything’s great.” Squeezing Jay’s hand, keeping the secret between the two of you for now, everyone else would know soon enough.

Kelly nodded and shared what seemed like a knowing look with Jay, but you couldn’t comment because Kim walked over. “There you are, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you doing since the accident?”

You smiled. “I’m doing good Kim, how’ve you been?” You asked her as she pulled you into a hug.

“Been good.”

You got roped into a conversation with her, glancing at Jay and Kelly, you’d question Jay about the look later on.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines

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pen-paper-and-ink · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems

Chapter Three

Masterlist

Sam eventually went to back to his own apartment around noon, leaving Aelin with plenty of time to focus on her English assignment. Instead of a final test in English, there was a final paper, and Aelin was struggling with what words to put down.

She knew the book inside and out; the words just were not coming to her today. She could usually just sit at her computer and let the words flow out of her, but that was not happening. She eventually just went back and skimmed through her outline, getting herself to refocus. She finally gave up a half an hour later and resorted to texting Rowan.

“Want to come over and study. I’ll order takeout from Emry’s. It will be just like old times.”

The response came only seconds later. “I’d love too, but some of us have class in an hour.”

She could practically here the snort in his reply. “Could you possibly skip this class and study with me instead?”

“I would but it’s the last class before the final, and I need the review.”

“Boo. You suck.” She emphasized with an emoji that was sticking its tongue out at him.

“See you later, Ace :)”She swore he refused to use emoji’s just to spite her.

When she was finally done pouting, she eventually pulled her phone back out to text Lysandra, who easily agreed to come over. Although Lysandra was not diligent as Rowan when it came to studying and making study schedules, she was better than nothing, especially when Aelin was having trouble concentrating.

She showed up to Aelin’s apartment wearing an oversized fuzzy pink sweater and a pair of black leggings, as well as two chocolate bars. She might now be Aelin’s favorite person.

She definitely was not Aelin’s favorite person the first time they met, though. They were both petty and stubborn and got along about as well as cats getting a bath. That eventually changed the march of their freshmen year, when Aelin chased off a shady guy who was trying to follow a very drunk Lys into the bathroom at a frat house. Lysandra had been her constant companion since then, especially when it came to topics including clothes and boys.

“Hello, Babe,” Lysandra chirped happily as she strode into Aelin’s apartment. She shrugged off her bag and dropped the candy onto her plush sofa. Aelin went to wrap her harms around Lysandra who returned the gesture. “I brought chocolate as a study motivator for the both of us, but you already smell of candy.”

Aelin groans. “Shut up. Sam bought me this perfume, it’s his favorite.”

“Mhm,” Lysandra hums giving Aelin a conspiratorial grin, “I think he like’s that you’re his own personal snack.” Lysandra says wiggling her eyebrows.

Aelin only rolled her eyes at her friend, “whatever.”

“You smell good, babe, just really sweet. Even sweeter than that bath and body works body spray that everyone bathed their selves in in middle school, if that’s even possible. But I think he likes that. How many times has he bitten your neck when you have been wearing it?” Lysandra asked with further eyebrow wiggling.

“You’re way too into our love life. How long has it been since you’ve had date?” This time it was Aelin’s turn to wiggle her eyebrows.

“It’s been a while,” Lysandra moans loudly, but she turns her grin back onto Aelin, “but you didn’t answer my question.”

Aelin sighs loudly and slumps back onto her couch. “It’s not like he does it often.”

Lysandra snickers and she lounges next to Aelin. “So, I see it’s getting pretty serious. I even saw the picture he keeps of you in his wallet.”

“In his wallet?” Aelin snorts. “I didn’t think that people still did that. I thought the real milestone of a serious relationship was making a picture of your significant other your home screen on your phone.”

“Yes, you relationship guru. Are you ready to study now?”

. . .

It turns out that Lysandra was the perfect person to get Aelin to finish her English paper. About two hours after Lysandra arrived, Aelin had finished her paper, submitted it, and was able to eat her chocolate bar as a reward. They then watched a shitty romcom on Netflix until Lysandra had to leave for her evening class.

That now left Aelin plenty of time to get ready to go to the Cadre’s for the night. It also gave Aelin some time to harass Rowan about his class.

“How was class?” Aelin texted.

“Good. Did you finally finish your paper, you demon? Bribing me with Emry’s and everything.” Rowan replied.

“I finished it and submitted it and everything. I even ate a celebratory chocolate bar without you.” She brags.

“I just wanted you to know that I am rolling my eyes at you.” Was his only response.

“Would it kill you to just use the emoji?” Aelin demanded.

“Yes.” Well at least she had her answer.

“See you at the Cadre’s in a few hours or so?” She inquired.

“Yes,” was once again his only response. Boys, Aelin thought rolling her eyes. What was with boys and their one-word answers. With that, Aelin pulled up Spotify on her TV to blast some music as she prepared for her night.

She was having fun running around her apartment sing- screaming the lyrics to Teenage Dirtbag as she prepared dinner and tidied up her apartment. Pop-rock and other angsty songs which she listened to as a teenager, always brought back fond memories. Her friends always made fun of her emo music in high school, so she decided to switch to some more mainstream stereotypical party music when hanging out with her college friends. The mainstream stuff like Doja Cat and Cardi B, stuff that was always playing loudly at clubs and house parties.

Aelin also had a soft spot for love songs and romantic ballads. Frank Sinatra always reminded her of her parents spinning around their living room on a weeknight. She always thought that they were disgustingly in love. Always holding hands and kissing in front of her and her friends. Aelin now regrets giving them crap about it, especially since the time they had together ended up being cut short.

She ends up eating her frozen pasta dinner over the kitchen island as she hummed along to an old fall out boy song. She went to check her phone and saw a message from Sam which simply asked if she was going to be at the Cadre’s in an hour, she sent back a simple yes as a response and finished up her dinner. Once she was done, she decided that it was probably time to get dressed for the night.

Aelin loved getting dressed up. She found it calming. Once she picked out an outfit she would methodically paint her face and do her hair. She scanned her overflowing closet, her gaze gliding over black cocktail dresses, sportswear, blazers, sun dresses, and band T’s. She decided on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized concert t-shirt since she just wanted to wear something simple, and the Cadre’s was a fairly run-down dive bar, though Aelin didn’t mind being overdressed, she loved her clothes and wasn’t afraid to show off and look fabulous doing so.

Once she was dressed, she went into her bathroom to do her makeup. She blended concealer and foundation into her skin, and painstaking lined her eyes with black liquid liner. She had decided on a classic cat eye with red lips, something you could never go wrong with. She reached down for her tube of lipstick then remembered that Sam got kind of soppy and romantic when he was drunk and reached for a liquid lip instead.

She then quickly curled her hair and accessed her appearance. Her skin was flawless, her eyebrows were groomed to perfection, the eyeliner accentuated her blazing blue-gold eyes wonderfully, and her crimson red lips went well with the look. Her golden hair was voluminous in big beach waves, she overall was pleased with her appearance, especially after spending the entire day in lounge wear studying. It felt good to be put together after a day of lounging around her apartment while trying to write. Overall Aelin thought she looked hot as fuck.

She quickly pulled on her heeled black booties, grabbed her bag and she was out the door.

. . .

The bar was so loud, the baseline of the song that was playing was all that could be heard. Lysandra had left the group about an hour in, to go flirt with some guy she had met previously that night and had eventually went home with him, after checking in with Aelin. Aelin dutifully took down the guys information, with Lys promising to check in with her later in the evening. That left Aelin to hang with the guys.

They had all gathered tonight. Sam, Lorcan, Conall, Fenrys, Rowan, and Aelin. They had all had a few rounds and were now all laughing over stupid shit, even Lorcan, who Aelin didn’t know could even laugh before tonight.

They were all giddy over the thought of finishing the school year. Rowan, Lorcan, and Sam were all graduating in a week, and Aelin and the twins were officially 75% done with their education. There was a lot to celebrate and drink to.

Aelin’s thigh was pressed against Rowan’s in the booth as they started arguing over which actor was the best Spiderman. That was the one habit they had kept from the time when they hated each other, the arguing. Rowan and Aelin were known to argue over everything, though now the disagreements were over trivial things and mostly just involved teasing. Rowan was arguing in favor of Tobey Maguire, which Aelin made gagging noises over when he finally confessed as to who her thought the best actor was.

“I’m sorry to inform you,” Aelin started, elbow on the table starring up at her best friends face, “That we cannot be friends anymore. I simply cannot be friends with anyone who thinks that Tobey Maguire makes a better Spiderman than Tom Holland. That’s blasphemous, and I will not stand for it.”

“You can’t mess with the original, Ace.” Rowan responds looking serious. “He just cannot be beat.”

“Yeah, Ace.” Conall responds, apparently feeling the need to weigh in on their argument. Rowan frowns at him, no doubt from the fact that Conall called her Ace, which usually only Rowan called her that, with the exclusion of Sam who had recently gone about calling her that. Rowan has always felt a little possessive over the name Ace.

“No, No, No,” Fenrys butts in, his words slurring slightly, “I agree with Aelin. Tom Holland is simply the best. Also, have you seen his lip sync battle? Tell me Tobey Maguire could pull that off. I dare you.”

“He can’t,” Aelin laughs, “He simply can’t.”

“I also agree that Tom Holland is the best Spiderman.” Sam says with a sly smile.

Rowan frowns at him. “You’re only agreeing with Aelin because she’s your girlfriend.”

Sam laughs, gets up and slides onto the opposite booth and sits next to Aelin, “No, no one can compete with Holland’s acting chops.” He says as he throws his arm around Aelin’s shoulders.

“There’s only one way to decide then,” Conall says with a smirk. “Lorcan must be the deciding vote.”

Aelin and Fenrys both protest loudly, claiming Lorcan had no taste, and that Lorcan would choose Maguire just to spite them.

Rowan shuts the protests up by turning to Lorcan and asking for his vote.

Lorcan looks sheepishly around before he says, “I actually think Andrew Garfield plays the best Spiderman.”

The group eventually quiets back down, as the night begins to come to an end. Lorcan was the first one to head out, claiming he had a final tomorrow. Fenrys left soon after, receiving a text from a semi-frequent hook-up asking him to come over. Conall then convinced Sam to play darts with him, beating Sam every round. Sam still seemed to be enjoying himself though, laughing every time he missed one of the rings, and once the board entirely. Aelin never understood why bar owners thought it was a good idea to put a dart board in the middle of drunk men with questionable aim, but who was she to question it.

Sam and Conall’s questionable game of darts did, however, leave Aelin and Rowan alone for the first time that night. Aelin had been missing spending time with her best friend. It seemed that every time they tried to get together, outside of their morning runs, they were busy or surrounded by other people.

“So, how are you Buzzard?” Aelin asks with a slow smile.

“How are you, fireheart?” Rowan asks, far too seriously for the night they have been having.

Aelin’s heart begins to pound loudly in her chest. He hardly ever called her that, only when he was feeling particularly affectionate.

“All’s good.” She replied, still smiling. Her heart pounded faster still when his fingers brushed against her cheek.

“An eyelash had fallen.” Was all Rowan said, still gazing at her with an intense stare.

“Oh.” Aelin said, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Rowan only gave her a sad smile as he stood up. He ended up tripping while trying to remove himself from his seat, which made her burst out laughing. Rowan, who was usually graceful to a fault, had tripped. He was more drunk than she had initially thought, he must be excited to be graduating.

“Do you need help?” Aelin asked.

“I am fine.” Rowan growled back.

“Are you sure about that?” Aelin asked, trying to hide her laughter. “You seem a little unsteady on your feet.”

“I’m fine, I’m going to head home for the night.” Rowan said, regaining his balance and his usual stoic expression. He grabbed his jacket from where he had been sitting.

“How about you come home with me,” Aelin offered. “You seem a bit unsteady there, Buzzard.”

“I’m fine,” Rowan said again. “I’ll get a cab. Goodnight.” Rowan threw her one last smile, then exited the bar, never bothering to turn back.

. . .

The dreams usually began with a dizzying array of colors, then quickly moved on to flashes of memory. Her heart begins to pound so loudly she can hear it in her head, in her dreams. Once her senses are overwhelmed with the shadow of memories and the deafening sound of her own heartbeat, is when she would stop breathing. The lack of air is what usually wakes her from her slumber.

Aelin Galathynius quickly padded across the floor of her bedroom to her bathroom, closing the door behind her, where she then vomited into the toilet. She always made sure the door to the bathroom was closed and locked, so Sam could not hear her, or accidently open the bathroom door in the middle of the night to find her lying on the floor next to the toilet.

After Aelin was done emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she slumped down onto the floor. The cool tile against her back, where her loose sleep camisole did not cover, always seemed to ground her. The hot flashes, the insanity from the dreams and then the vomiting always began to dissipate once she felt the cool tile against her body.

She laid on the floor for a while, breathing in and out and waiting for her pulse to return to normal. The memories she tried to escape during her day, where always ruthlessly unleashed during the night, pursuing her where she could not escape them. Although she couldn’t escape the dreams and memories, they were significantly better within the last few years, only occurring every once in a while, instead of every night.

Aelin thought back to her freshmen year, where she would drink all night long, or get into fights, just to try to stay awake just a little longer so she wouldn’t have to face what was waiting in her subconscious. Aelin was good at that, pushing things away, not examining anything too closely in case it might trigger a panic attack.

Aelin would eventually have to get up, brush her teeth and make her way back to bed where her loving boyfriend was sleeping, but she allowed herself to rest for a moment more on the floor. Though Sam knew what happened when she was eighteen in veiled terms, and through short bursts of vulnerability, she couldn’t get herself to admit to him that she still had panic attacks, and nightmares from her previous years. In fact, the only person who knew she still suffered through them was Rowan.

Rowan was her constant star and steadfast companion when it came to the pain of suddenly losing someone. He was also well aware of the way she tried to deal with it afterward, for that was how they found each other. They were both so wrapped up in their grief and their own self destruction that they couldn’t see the other person in front of them. When Aelin pulled her head out of her ass, as Aedion called it, and finally called a truce with Rowan, and later became friends with him, is when Aelin realized that they had the same grief festering inside them. They also had the same self-destructive streak, so they vowed to find their way out of the madness and grief together.

For a moment Aelin wished Rowan was with her, gently coaxing her get up and brush her teeth, rubbing his hand on her back soothingly, waiting for her pulse to slow back down. Rowan always knew how to reach her, how to soothe her.

Aelin slowly got up, and eventually made her way back to her sleeping boyfriend who was unaware that anything had happened. She tried to fall asleep next to her boyfriend, but she couldn’t, she was too busy wishing Rowan was beside her with his soothing touch luring her back to sleep.

Taglist

@rowaelinismyotp

#champagne problems #celaena sardothien #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #sam cortland #throne of glass #tog #au #lorcan salvaterre #lysandra ennar #fenrys moonbeam #connall moonbeam

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Following Orders

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs between Ch. 12 and 13 of the romantic route - featuring Kyubei! And Motonari! Spoilers Ahead!

P.S. I took some liberties with this chapter ^_^

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Siege

Kyubei rubbed a hand over the skin of his head. It felt cold in the pre-dawn breeze, unused to being exposed. Shaving a receding hair line was a necessary sacrifice to ensure he wasn’t recognized. Between that and the scraggly beginnings of a beard, his own mother would have trouble picking him out from the other guards.

For his patrol, he’d picked a spot near enough to the shogun’s chamber to overhear most of what went on within, but out of Ashikaga’s line of sight. Perfect to keep a low profile and gather intelligence. Mitsuhide already had the bulk of what Kyubei knew - all written in cipher and left in the cache in the orchard. Things were going as planned. Or . . . they had been.

This morning he could tell something was amiss. Instead of the usual morning routine of servants going in to prepare the shogun’s clothes and food, to bathe and dress Ashikaga, the hall was eerily still and silent. Yoshiaki sat alone in the audience hall, his eyes red from lack of sleep, his face set in hard, angry lines.

Kyubei expected more activity, especially after the discovery yesterday that the estate was surrounded by enemies, isolated from help. This stillness was troubling. It meant he’d missed something. He didn’t have long to wonder what.

A man hurried into the hall from one of the secret doors nearby. This one let out near the guardhouse, but the man wasn’t a guard. He was Yoshiaki’s messenger - a man Kyubei felt certain was ninja. His presence here had not been a pleasant discovery, and it seemed Kyubei’s fears were now realized.

The messenger carried a woman slung over his shoulder. Though her face was badly bruised, and hair hid her features, Kyubei recognized her. The chatelaine, and his lord’s fiancee.

It was difficult to resist his first urge to disembowel Yoshiaki’s man, take the girl, and run. His orders were to infiltrate and inform - if he acted now, he’d be no use to his lord. He had to be smart about this. Kyubei followed the messenger into the shogun’s chamber.

The chatelaine was tossed to the floor like a sack of rice. Her hands were tied tight at the wrist, anchored by rope to her feet. Kyubei could see where she’d begun to bleed. He wanted to tell her he was here, that she would be alright. But instead he knelt beside her, quickly checking her for weapons just as a guard would do.

Ashikaga’s eyes went wide as he took in his prize. He didn’t even seem to see the messenger or Kyubei. “Well done.” He stood and walked from the dais. He stopped at her feet, an unpleasant smile curling his lips. “Leave me.”

“Yes, excellency.” The messenger bowed low, and backed away.

Kyubei knew he would be expected to go to, but he couldn’t simply leave her here. Not like this. Not with the shogun ready to visit every humiliation on her, flesh and spirit. He backed away to the door, but stayed beside it, as if he would protect the shogun from intrusion.

The chatelaine glared up at him from one eye. The other was swelled shut, bruised the color of overripe plums. She struggled up to sit on her knees, never taking her eye from the shogun. Had she not been gagged, she would have spoken. Or spit at him.

Yoshiaki regarded her with disdain. “Keep your head down! How dare you raise your eyes to me without my permission.” His voice was a strained hiss.

“Mmf-ing mmll,” she growled back at him. She didn’t look down either. Somehow, Kyubei didn’t think that was an apology. He couldn’t help a small burst of pride at how she held her own, even now.

“What insolence!” Yoshiaki slapped her with his fan. Her cheek reddened from the blow, as much from humiliation as the slap. “Even animals have better manners.” He stared down at her and shook his head. “To think this pitiful creature is the result of lax rule under Nobunaga.”

The chatelaine tried to reach for Ashikaga - to do what, Kyubei could only imagine - but she couldn’t even come close.

Yoshiaki pushed her with one slippered foot and she fell back, smacking her head on the floor. “Peasants exist to serve their betters with good behavior. You are proof I am needed to lead this land back onto the right path.”

Kyubei held himself rigidly still. He dared not act unless absolutely necessary, but this was harder than he expected. All he could do was watch Ashikaga for now. But if he looked like he might kill the chatelaine, then he would die.

“As the traitor’s fiancee, I am certain you are aware he has this castle surrounded?” Yoshiaki paced slowly around the fallen girl, circling her.

“Ahh mmoe mme mlls uuh,” she said around the gag.

The shogun laughed, his pitch high and false. “You should hope that he cares for you enough not to get you killed, if you hope for anything.” He squatted down, staring intently at her face. “For each day he keeps me under siege, I will send him a piece of you. Should we start here?” He brushed a hand over her lips.

“Ah, excellency? Fingers or - or ears are traditional,” Kyubei stuttered. Not that he wanted her to lose those either. But he felt he had to intervene.

Ashikaga glanced up, his expression one of annoyance. “You must belong to the daimyo here. My men know when to keep silent.”

Kyubei bowed low and stepped back to his position. Every muscle in his body was taut and ready to spring into action at the first sign of violence from the shogun. He didn’t think his chances were good if he was forced to act now, but there was no way he was going to stand and watch Yoshiaki cut a piece from the chatelaine.

Whatever the shogun planned to do next, the chatelaine changed his mind. She brought her bound hands up to slam into his chest, rocking him back a step.

Yoshiaki straightened, his face crimson with rage. “You touched me! You . . .” He snarled incoherently, unable to speak an insult great enough for this affront.

Kyubei saw his opening. It was a risk, but worth it. He lunged forward and grabbed the chatelaine by the shoulders, slipping her onto her belly. He set a knee on her back, though he kept his weight off her. “Shall I kill her, excellency?”

“No.” Yoshiaki was literally shaking with rage. “I need her alive until that kitsune arrives.”

“Then let me humble her for you.” Kyubei leered down at the captive girl and licked his lips suggestively.

After a moment, Yoshiaki nodded. Though his face was still red, a slight smile returned to his lips. “Yes. Take her and let the men use her. You may do whatever you want, so long as she lives.”

Kyubei bowed. “It will be my pleasure.” Then he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.

The chatelaine kicked at him, cursing from under her gag. Beneath her show of anger, she trembled too. With fear.

It was a long way to the storage sheds, but Kyubei hurried there as fast as he could. It wasn’t that fast, not with a squirming chatelaine on his shoulder. He passed a few of the castle servants and one sleepy guard, but no one seemed to take note or care that he had a bound woman with him. When he got to one of the empty buildings, he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The chatelaine had quieted down by now, but she was glaring at him like an angry snake. Kyubei set her gently against the back wall. He tore her kimono, baring one of her shoulders. The skin there was bruised too, he thought darkly. And he removed her gag.

“Mitsuhide will kill you too,” she said hoarsely. Her lips and tongue were swollen.

“I’m sure he will.” Kyubei gave her a drink of water, which she accepted reluctantly. Then he reached for her bound hands.

“Don’t touch me,” she yelped and tried to push him away.

Kyubei stepped back and frowned. He didn’t want to reveal himself to her - not when there was still danger for both of them. But he needed to get those bonds off her too. “Look - I’m just going to untie you. Nothing else. For now.” He gave an evil smile. “I’m on duty until noon. After that . . .”

The chatelaine spat at him. “I would die first.”

“And you might.” Kyubei grabbed her arms and held her still while he cut the binds from them and from her feet.

She rubbed her wrists, hurt and angry and clearly exhausted. Despite that, he was fairly sure she was planning to try to escape. Already figuring out how to get past him, and whether she thought she could run.

“You will stay here. Quietly,” Kyubei told her.

“Or what?”

“Or I . . . I follow my orders.” He narrowed his eyes and slowly looked her over. “I follow them right now. And when I finish with you, I have a lot of friends.” Kyubei felt disgusted with himself and how well he was playing this role. But he had to keep her quiet, even if it meant terrifying her.

The chatelaine pulled her knees up to her chest. Fear and anger played across her mouth as she tried to decide how to respond. “I’m not . . . not afraid of you. Or your friends. Mitsuhide will come and he will stop you and your disgusting lord.”

Kyubei smirked. “We’ll see.” Then he set down his water gourd and went out the door. He closed it and tied it shut. Then he carried some heavy crates to set in front of the door too. Just enough to dissuade anyone from trying to go in. “Girl, you should stay very quiet now. I am leaving. If someone else finds you before I come back, it will be worse for you.”

The chatelaine was silent.

***

Motonari sprawled against a tree trunk, listening with half an ear to the day’s reports from his scouts.

“I thought I heard a woman just before sunrise. Might o’ been a rabbit . . .” He was saying.

“Ya can’t tell the difference between a rabbit and a girl?”

The scout gave a half-hearted shrug. “Well . . . it sounded like a woman. But there ain’t women out here so it couldn’t be.”

With a look of disgust, Motonari motioned the scout away. It seemed someone managed to get through their barricade. Though he had no proof to speak of, the pirate knew without a doubt the little Oda princess was involved. But he needed more to go on than his gut. The abbot and the kitsune wouldn’t act on that alone.

He was about to go looking when Kennyo walked into camp. The abbot’s frown was deep, his jaw set in hard lines.

“Mitsuhide!” Kennyo called in his low, grumbling voice.

The kitsune stirred from his tent after a moment. Despite his wrinkled clothes and mussed hair, he managed to look elegant. “What has happened?”

The abbot tossed him a sandal.

Mitsuhide caught it, his expression turning from annoyance to unhappy surprise.

Motonari tilted his head, curiosity peaked. “What is that?”

“A woman’s sandal, with a broken strap.” Kennyo replied. “It was discovered near the castle late this morning. It was not there earlier.”

This was about the location Motonari’s man had heard the ‘rabbit.’ He tried hard not to grin. If anything would get this battle started, this was it. Finally.

“There’s no doubt,” Mitsuhide said softly, turning the small shoe over in his hands. “This is . . . it belongs to my little mouse.”

“Huh. So Ashikaga’s got somebody with enough skill to get past us, carrying a hostage even.” He couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice. “Be real fun to kill that one.”

Kennyo ignored Motonari. “Will he negotiate for peace in exchange for her life?”

“Negotiate? The shogun?” Mouri laughed. The idea of that man asking for anything was hilarious. Ashikaga didn’t ask - he simply took. “More like he’ll use her as a human shield.”

“What is your plan, Mitsuhide?” The abbot waited to see what the kitsune warlord would say.

Motonari waited as well, if less patiently.

“I believe our enemy has just given us a reason to stop playing nice with him.” Mitsuhide’s golden eyes glowed with the heat of his anger. They fixed on Mouri. “It appears your boredom is at an end.”

“Finally!” Motonari didn’t wait for him to change his mind. He turned on his heel, giving his men the signal to arm up and get moving.

Kennyo looked surprised. “You would abandon strategy and attack now?”

“We cannot delay. Not even for dawn. I won’t keep my darling little one waiting for me.” His mouth turned up at the edges in a sharp smile.

“You don’t sound as desperate as I thought you would,” Kennyo replied. It was impossible to know what he thought about that.

Mitsuhide nodded once. “I have never been calmer. Now come. We must use whatever means necessary to rescue her - and to make the shogun regret his actions.”

The abbot turned to rally his men. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

Motonari didn’t worry too much about Mitsuhide’s state of mind, or the abbot’s judgement. He rushed into the orchard and toward the fortress, eager for the bloodshed to begin. This was going to be fun.

Next: Base Villains

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen motonari #kyubei #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

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couchpotatoaniki · 3 years

Text

One Year ❣︎ Seven: Never Ask Friends for Help

Chapter Summary: As San expected, he caught a cold after your little prance through the storm in Hallim Park the previous day. Luckily, you're fine, which gives you the wonderful opportunity to look after him and the even more wonderful opportunity to let your chaotic nature shine.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, (this chapter is pure fluff and crack) Word count: 3.2k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Six For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Silence filled your room when you woke up the next morning. It was strange, since San had said he would be waking you up, and there you were, still lying in bed by the time noon rolled around.

It wasn’t as if you were waiting for him to come and get you, but you just wanted to take advantage of the time in such a warm blanket. Yeosang often joked about how you became a cold-blooded reptile whenever you felt sleepy, body temperature dropping and your tongue sharp like that of a snake.

Basically, it was his long-winded way of calling you a cranky, heat-stealing bitch.

Not that you minded at all, since Yeosang was a cranky bitch himself when sleepy.

But then half an hour passed, and there was still no sign of San. Throwing the blanket off your form, you slipped on a pair of slippers and got ready for the day, finding him becoming the very next thing on your agenda.

And the state you found him in was certainly laughable--to you anyway.

“Did you seriously get sick after a little storm?” you chuckled, eyes taking in San wrapped in the covers as if he was a baby, sniffling every few seconds.

“Oh, shut it,” he glared at you, speaking with a nasally voice.

You took a step into his room, one looking fairly similar to yours, with little pictures or much personalisation in general. Must not have stayed here often then, or had many memories he wanted to keep.

That thought... it made you feel a little sad.

Once you reached the edge of his bed, you sat down beside him, noticing just how sickly-looking he was. Skin paler, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, flush cheeks and nose, uneven breathing, soft whimpering.

Your smile faded slightly. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since last night,” he coughed, brushing away your hand as you reached out to check his temperature. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you to catch whatever this is.”

Clicked your tongue at his response and did so anyway. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. More than you should be. Has anyone seen to you yet?” Instantly, you brushed the hair from his eyes, simultaneously wiping away the sweat. Was pretty gross, but you didn’t mind at all.

San relaxed under your gentle touch, finding it cool and soothing against his muddled senses. “N-No. I texted Hongjoong to tell everyone to leave me alone. Clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you’re here.”

Lightly hitting his chest over the blanket, you scoffed. “You’re happy I’m here, don’t lie.”

Grinning, he sighed. “Can’t hide anything from you, now can I, Hun?”

“Nope,” you huffed as you got up. “Now, I’m going to prepare something for you to eat since you probably haven’t had anything since yesterday.” On cue, his stomach grumbled painfully loudly, making the man visibly cringe as he was about to decline your offer so you would stay with him for a little bit longer. “Looks like Mister Tummy’s already answered for you.”

“Mister Tummy doesn’t know shit.”

“Mister Tummy knows more shit than you do. In fact, it processes all of your shit for you.”

“Gross.”

“I know. Mister Tummy’s gross. But full of wisdom.”

“You know what, just go. Leave me be for a bit.”

Evil chuckling reached his ears. “Now that you’ve said it, I’ll just be here to annoy you as much as I can. But before we do that, keep yourself bundled up and make sure you’re sweating buckets. It’s the most effective way to break a nasty fever like that.” You began wrapping him up in the thick blanket like he was a burrito.

With that, you left for the kitchen, calling Seonghwa’s number. As the ringing continued, you looked around, noticing how there were few guards and servants around the place. Not even Wooyoung, Jongho, or Hongjoong could be seen in your trek to make food.

“What do you want, troll?”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that. Whatever happened to ‘hello’? Too mainstream for you?”

“...Hello, troll. What do you want?”

Narrowing your eyes ahead of you, smirk pressing against your lips, you tried to look around for the chef. Not there either. “Much better. Now, can you give me a recipe for that soup with ‘magical healing properties’ you used to give me?”

“Bone broth?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m on adventure to nurse a sociopathic cuddle-demon back to health, now are you going to give me the recipe or am I going to get Yunho to drag it out of you? Because I know very well that he will.”

Seonghwa’s sigh was loud enough to be audible through the phone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Just text me the recipe, thank you, love you, byeeeeee.” Immediately ended the call, looking in all the cupboards, the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. This place was stocked to the brim.

Shortly after, your phone began buzzing, Seonghwa requesting to video call you. Swiping the green button, you were met with a (slightly laggy) picture of Seonghwa’s chin, hearing him yell off screen. “--UNHO. MINGI. I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES.”

You could make out the response, “Hehe, kinky.” Most likely Mingi from the very nature of the comment.

“What do you want, troll?” you echoed his words back to him, catching his attention--the other boys most likely long gone into the depth of the house.

“Well, well, well, how the tables have turned,” he smirked, moving the camera so you could see him better.

“It’s ‘how the turntables’.”

He looked at you with an unimpressed expression, not pleased with your Office reference, and carried on to ignore it. “So there is no way in hell I’m sending you the recipe through text, since people can easily hack that--”

“And by people, you mean--”

“Yeosang, yes, who else? Little rat bastard keeps trying to steal my recipes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“As if he hasn’t heard it already about a million times.”

You chuckled in response, knowing how true it was. “Fair enough. Now spill your secrets and bless me with the ability to cook.”

One word to describe the last hour of your life would be... Well, you couldn’t really think of a word. It was purely of Seonghwa screaming over the phone and you screaming back. And panicking. Both of you definitely panicked.

But all in all, the bone broth was made and tasted fairly decent--a worry you had after fucking up so many times in making a simple recipe.

With a pale and dreary look upon his face, Seonghwa looked at you through the phone, narrowing his eyes on you pouring some of the hot mixture in to a bowl. “You’re actually gonna feed him that? Sure you’re trying to nurse him, or was this a master plan to kill him after that ordeal? Because if it’s the latter, then there were much easier ways of doing so.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, whispering prayers in your head that it would actually help San’s fever. “And goodbye.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Is that it? You’re gonna use me and then lea--”

You hand pulled away from the phone screen, after having pressed the red button. Chuckled to yourself with your comedic timing, completely forgetting the earful you’d get of the elder the next time you call him.

Gathering a tray, you placed the bowl of bone broth on top of it, as well as a packet of painkillers, a glass of water, and some turmeric tea; why San has it, you have no idea, since he seems to be a hot coffee-kind of person.

Would’ve added a flower, because you felt like being extra, but that would seem more like a romantic thing than a... well, whatever the hell you two were right now.

This situation wasn’t exactly common enough for it to be given a name.

Wafting away the thought, you grabbed the tray and walked quickly to the mobster’s bedroom. Didn’t need to worry about any spillage since you’ve had years of practice being quick and precise with movement.

Holding one hand beneath the tray (feeling a little heavy, but again, you’ve had practice), you used the other to open the door, finding San still swaddled in his blanket, sweating like a pig.

“Y/N...” he whimpered, an eye opening at the sound of you entering. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was different to how he usually was--and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

“I’m right here, San,” you replied in a soft tone, brushing back his hair once more as soon as you placed the tray on the bedside-table beside you. “Brought you some food too. Can you sit up for me?”

Letting out soft whines, he tried to lift his body up, but was too weak and too caged in to get his back even a centimetre off the mattress. You saw the issue, and pulled the covers apart slightly so he could move a little more, both hands pulling gently at his shoulders so he could sit up properly.

Never had you seen someone this unwell from a simple fever. Sure, you’ve felt like shit before, but San’s condition was a little worrying. “Is there some private doctor I can call?”

“What,” he huffed, a smile etching onto his face as he looked into your eyes, “makes you think I have a private doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno, you’re a rich asshole?”

Chuckling, he let his head flop to the side, neck suddenly too weak to hold it up properly. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Annoying, but funny, but sarcastic, but beautiful.”

“Okay, do you wanna continue with that word vomit or are you gonna eat?” You cocked your brow, head tilting to match his posture. “Also, you’re not gonna flatter me by calling me beautiful. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

It had slightly upset San knowing that you had said ‘anymore’--upset him knowing that there were others complimenting what his. But he couldn’t blame them. You really were beautiful in his eyes, even if he hadn’t thought so when he initially laid eyes on you.

“Don’t wanna eat.”

Sighing, you fixed yourself and picked up the bowl, mixing it as you blew to cool it down a little. “You’re not well, you gotta.”

He looked at you with big wide eyes and a small pout--and you couldn’t help but think it was a little cute. “Don’t wanna... unless you feed me?”

Okay, maybe it was a little less cute.

You exhaled, still stirring. “If I do, then you’ll have it all?” He put his hand over his heart, nodding with a sincere look on his face. “Fine then.” You lifted a spoon full of the bone broth to his lips, which he look into his mouth promptly--eyes glued to yours as he did so.

San hummed earnestly. “It’s...actually pretty good.”

Eye twitching, you lightly pushed him. “Why? Did you expect it to be shit?”

“I mean, I heard faint screaming and what I assume was swearing, which could have only come from you because I let everyone have a day off for today. So, yes, forgive my assumption that it would murder me,” he chuckled, opening his mouth once more, in which you carefully put more broth in.

“Be happy that I’m doing this much for you.”

“Because you feel guilty for getting me ill?”

“No, it was your fault for not taking a hot shower when we came back, like I told you to--and your immune system for being so shit.”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t help it if my immune system wants to act out. I usually don’t get this ill.” You sent him a ludicrous look, continuing to feed him. “What? I really don’t!”

“Tell that to the rain.”

“I-- nevermind. But the second thing is that I offered to take a shower, but you said no!”

“That’s because you wanted to shower with me. No way in hell I was gonna let that happen!”

“You have the shower room for it!”

″Yeah, and I've already passed on my grievances to you yesterday about that hell-room!”

“Well, at least with me with you, you don’t have to worry about--what did you call it? Oh yeah--’Casper the fuckin’ Perverted Ghost’.”

“I’d take a ghost over you any day.”

“You won’t be saying that in a year.”

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t be choosing Casper over you. After all, I’ll be spending time with him as well.”

San scoffed, slightly amused but annoyed at the same time. “Are you actually trying to get me jealous of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Who said Casper doesn’t exist?”

“‘Cause ghosts don’t exist.”

“Tell that to Casper. You’ll find him in my shower room.”

Amidst the conversation, neither of you had noticed how the bowl and cup was now empty, their contents now residing in San’s stomach. But when you did, you got up--ready to walk to the kitchen and put everything away--until his very warm hands wrapped around your elbow gently.

“Please don’t go. You can put all that stuff away later. Just... stay with me.”

Sighing, you decided to listen to him for once an put the tray down before tightening the covers around him again--making him whine. “Noooooo, I wanna hold you.”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?”

“I’m ill, stop taking my muddled brain so seriously.”

Your brow cocked up, amused while you looked over his flushed face. “So you’d be willing get me sick too?”

Another pout formed on his face. “Of course not,” he mumbled. “You know what, you’re right. You can go.”

He avoided looking at you, instead fixing his saddened gaze at the window. Your natural scepticism told you that he was just faking it, only putting on an act to get your attention and affection. Yet, for the first time in a while, doubt began to seep in.

Maybe... maybe you could give in. Just this once.

Sighing, you slipped off your slippers and lay down beside him, an arm and leg wrapping around his body to bring him closer to you. A stronger tint of red covered his face as he looked at you, flabbergasted, as he tried to wriggle out of your touch. “What are you doing, you’ll get sick--”

“My immune system is much stronger than yours, I’ll live. Besides, you look cosy,” you muttered, nestling your face into the soft blanket. Even his blanket smelled like a garden in the rain, despite the amount of sweat that’s probably seeped into it.

Truly, he did, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to hug the human burrito.

San had, instead, found you cute, cheek squished against the fabric surrounding him. Let his mind wonder to the image of you pressed against him--without the covers coming between you two.

Again.

Would you look this peaceful, sleeping on his chest, on a regular day--he thought.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna get some rest?” San could feel your voice vibrating through the covers despite the thickness of it.

“Hard not to stare at you, ya know?” he relaxed himself, despite feeling like he was baking beneath the blanket, and let his head rest on the pillow, cheek pressed against your forehead.

“Goddamn, you’re hot. Did you take any medicine while I was cooking?”

“Oh, Hun, there’s no cure for sexiness,” he coughed, a smirk pulling at his lips from the joke he made.

Another sigh was pulled from your throat as you got up to look for any painkillers he could take. Sane began to whine once more, rolling over since he could barely had enough energy to move with his arms when he was this tired--a full belly of warm broth and tea not helping what so ever.

“No--wait. Come back...”

“You need painkillers.”

With a straight face, he stared deep into your eyes, slightly glossy and sparkling under the dim sunlight coming into the room. “But you’re my painkiller.”

“Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds,” you deadpanned, scooping up the tray to leave the grown-ass mafia boss whining and rolling around, throwing a tantrum.

After some hard thinking and remembering that Wooyoung had given you his number, you called him up as you stood in the doorway, looking at San’s calm state of sleeping.

“My dear sister,” you heard a voice finally say over the phone, “what requires my assistance?”

“...Wooyoung?”

“Yes, dear sister?”

“What in the world has possessed you call me your ‘dear sister’?”

“Because you’re gonna be my friend’s wife some day, so I need to get used to seeing you as my sister-from-another-mister.”

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you decided to not comment on his outlandish claims. “San’s not feeling well.”

“Is that why he sent us all away?” he laughed, somehow finding this situation amusing--since this is what his best friend tends to do; finds his weakened state as vulnerability, and if there was one thing San hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

But if he truly hated that, then why pursue this why you--when he know that it would force him to bring his guard down?

“I think so. No one was here when I came out of my room. Not the cooks or the maids or even the guards,” you said, taking another gander as if there might be someone roaming the halls to disprove your statement.

There wasn’t.

“Okay then. You want me to give you our private doctor’s number?”

Chuckling to yourself because you knew you were right (immediately confusing Wooyoung), you hummed, “yeah, that would be great.”

“O-Okay. Lemme text it to you. But do you need anything else? I know from experience San can get a little clingy when he’s not in his right mind,” he said, a boisterous giggle passing his lips.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You let your gaze brush over your captor’s figure. “Just send me the number and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okie dokie then, dear sister. I’ll leave you to deal with that enigma.”

“Alright, Wooyoung. See you tomorrow?”

“Call me ‘dear brother’, then maybe I’ll hang u--”

You shoved your phone into your back pocket after ending the call, thinking that it would take him a few minutes. Proving you wrong, the phone buzzes to life within the next ten seconds, Wooyoung sending you a couple of messages.

Wooyoung: Well that was a rude Wooyoung: No matter, I still love ya, dear sister Wooyoung: Probs should clarify that it’s platonic in case San sees it and gets all jelly Wooyoung: Anyway, here’s the number Wooyoung: XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N: Thanks, bro

Wooyoung: 🥺🥺 You called me ‘bro’

Smiling a little, you called the number--which had indeed taken you to a doctor’s clinic. After hearing of his exact temperature and other symptoms, the woman over the phone had concluded that it was as you first suspected--the common cold.

She told you to keep giving him painkillers and he should be fine within the week. Ending the call with a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you left to get San more broth and medication, and hopefully you’d lay down with him again.

Which is exactly what you did for the rest of the day, opting to stay with him for the night too in order to make sure he really was okay. Thankfully, the worst of his fever had passed by the time morning came around and he was feeling much better.

You, however, were exhausted after looking after him, deep in your slumber as you shifted closer to San, who had broken free of his blanket prison and wrapped it around the two of you. The sunlight peeking through the window paled in comparison to the faint smile of glee San had adorned when he saw you.

Cheeked pressed up against his shoulder, and arm and a leg draped over his body like a koala clinging to a tree.

Just like he had thought the day before.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby , @sparklychangbin , @shawkneecaps If you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask!

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pascalscenarios · 4 years

Text

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: After the ordeal with Frankie, You spend your time alone. In the mean time, Lilah plans on talking to you.

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2,909

Authors Note: Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter has me in my feels... I’m debating how long I should make this fic... I think I’m going up to 10, but we’ll see... Enjoy :) - K

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 5.5 | CH 6 |

Chapter 6

You were locked up in your bedroom. You didn’t dare to come out and face Alex. They were sweet, giving you space for a couple of hours to deal with your feelings after the whole Frankie ordeal. You were curled up in your bed, your eyes puffy from balling your eyes out. You staring out the window watching the rainfall.

He told you he loved you. Frankie told you he loved you. You knew he loved you, but after all these years he still wanted to be with you? He had a whole decade to make things right with you, but he decided to swoop in last minute a week before your wedding to fuck things.

He also had no right to tell you how to feel about him. How did you feel?

You heard a knock on the door.

“Babe?” Alex says softly opening the door. They watch you lie there on the bed.

They walk over sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Hun, you have nothing to be sorry about.” They rub your back comforting you.

You turn to face Alex, sitting up in bed, resting your back against the wall. You pulled the blanket up more, grabbing a pillow to clutch in your arms.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” your voice trembled.

Alex stays silent waiting for you to talk.

“When I went out with the girls clubbing, I got lost, I thought I called you, but I accidentally called Frankie. He came picked up, I crashed at his place, nothing happened, but I was hanging out with him today”

Alex looked relieved.

“But I haven’t been completely honest with you about Frankie…” You couldn’t look Alex in the eyes.

“The day we went cake testing, I told you Frankie was an old friend...he is an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but at one point we used to date...he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You confessed.

You kept spilling everything.

“I’ve never talked about him with you because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I found out why he left me, he has a daughter. I’m not mad at him at that, not one bit, but it just hurts that he didn’t tell me... and then he told me he still loved me. I know I shouldn’t care, because I’m not with him- I’m with you, but part of me does care-”

You scrunch your face, your lips trembling as you try to stop yourself from shedding tears, but they still manage to fall.

“Ever since he came back- I don’t know how I’m feeling and its suffocating, I’m so confused my head is just-”

“I think I should go,” Alex says.

“W-what?” Your eyes widen

“I think we need time apart” Your chest heaved as you heard them say that. Everything was crashing down on you. You bared your feelings and now he wants to leave you? The feeling you were getting felt exactly like the night Frankie left you.

“B-but the wedding is next week-”

“I know…” They move closer to the bed, grabbing a hold of your hands.

“I think you and I need to think things over alone. We need a couple of days to wrap our head around things, figure out what we want-”

“But I want you…Please don’t go, I’m sorry- ” You cried.

“Don’t be sorry. Look, it’ll only be a couple of days...After we thought about things, well come back and talk about us. We’ll figure things out, I promise, but right now, we need to think about if this is truly what we want, what you want.”

“Alex…”

“No matter what, I love you” They kiss you on the forehead, then leave the bedroom.

…

“My uncle Santiago who told me everything Rehma! The photos of the person in the shoebox was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They’re Uncle Santi’s cousin. They called them Smiles” Lilah was laying on her bed, staring at a photo of you, Frankie.

“That’s crazy! What happened between them?” Rehma, Lilah’s best friend, was over their phone call.

“Me…” Lilah signs placing the photo down, rolling on to her back.

“What, what do you mean you?”

“You know how I didn’t meet my dad until I was five...Well, he was with Smiles at the time.”

“Right, your mom didn’t tell him about you…”

“...Because he was with Smiles…”

“What? That’s why your mom didn’t tell him?”

“I mean I guess, my parents weren’t serious. They didn’t last long, they thought it was best to remain friends. Obviously, my mom should have told my Dad about me, but I don’t think she wanted to ruin what he and smiles had, but ultimately he was the one that ended up doing that.”

“What do you mean?

“He left smiles and went after me… for a whole decade they had no idea about me.”

“What a mess!” Rehma gasped.

“Tell me about it! but I just feel bad he left Smiles in the dust like that. This is the love of his life!”

“What about you? How are you feeling about all this?” Rehma asked.

“I have him. He’s forever in my life now. He loves me, I do not doubt that ever. He’s always put me and my needs first, I mean obviously, he’s a dad, that's the job, but it’s time he puts himself first. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m growing older, being more independent…I’ve never seen him be with anyone since the day he brought me home. I just want him to be happy you know.”

“Wow, that's-”

“That's why I'm going to talk to Smiles!” Lilah sits up in bed.

“Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do, pull a parent trap???”

“Some things like that…'' Lilah grabs the photo of you and Frankie, pulling out the shoebox that was hidden underneath your bed.

“I mean I think it’s cute you wanna set your dad up again with his childhood sweetheart, but what if this goes wrong?”

“Act now, think later, fuck it right?!” Lilah squeezes the phone between her shoulder and cheek, as she grabs her backpack, stuffing the boxes in.

“Moon!” Frankie shouted from the hallway.

“I gotta go!”

“Text me how it goes! If you need backup, call me!”

“Okay bye!”

“Moon?” Lilah quickly slips up the bag and hangs up the phone.

Frankie walks into Lilah’s room, finding her on the floor with her bag.

“Yeah, Dad?” She smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing..” She stands up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asks to lean against the doorframe.

“Is it okay if I go to Rehma’s? We have homework and a project to do…” Lilah lied.

“You just go home from school…”

“I know, but she's freaking out about everything. Mrs. Pike is kicking our ass lately with everything.

“Yeah, just be home before-”

“Thanks, dad!” Lilah quickly walks up to Frankie kissing him on the cheek and bolts out the door.

“-Sunset!”

“Got it! Bye love you!” She called out. Lilah was standing outside her house. She pulls out her phone, looking in her notes for your address she took down in her notes.

“Alright, Smiles… Where do you live?”

...

You spent Valentine's day alone, curled up on the couch, a pile of junk food around you, watching your favorite romantic comedies. You were doing the same thing three days later. You were wearing pajamas, your hair disheveled, your eyes still puffy from crying. It has been a terrible week so far.

You avoid thinking about everything, just wanting to take time to do absolutely nothing and veg out.

You were eating ice cream from the carton when you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t bother to get up and answer it. You just wanted to be left alone. The ringing became persistent. You groaned, setting the carton down on the couch and getting up to answer the door.

You open the door to find a letter on the ground with your name on it. You pick up the letter opening it.

Frontier Park @ 5:00 pm

You look up, scanning the neighborhood, there was no one around. Who could this be from? Alex? Maybe Santiago...Frankie?

You went back inside your house, checking the time. It was 3:45, almost noon. You looked at our messy living room. Maybe you should get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. You needed some fresh air and gained back a clear and unclouded mind.

…

You got changed and headed to the park. It was a nice day, with a slight cool breeze. You sat on the bench and overlooked the pond. You sat there admiring the beautiful flowers and the cute ducks that swam on the pond.

From the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you. It was a young girl. As she gets closer to you, you realize who she was. You stand up as she approaches you.

“H-hi…” she stutters, stopping in front of you. “I’m-”

“Lilah” you gasp. You couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Frankie. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you.

You extend your hand out, introducing yourself. You both sat down on the bench.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now…” Lilah says in a bit of shock.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you either...I’m guessing you’re the one who left the letter at my doorstep. Are you alright? Did something happen? Is Frankie okay?” You were concerned for her, Frankie even. You had no idea why you were meeting her, but if she needed anything, you were willing to help her.

Lilah smiled. You were just like Santiago in her eyes. You were concerned and caring just like him. “Yes, I am. Everythings fine, I’m fine...Dad’s... Sorta okay I guess…” she says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ambush you like this-”

“No! It’s alright... I - Just- How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?” Had Frankie told her about you?

“Uncle Santiago…”

“Of course” you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“I went to Uncle Santi’s house, he answered questions I had…I found your address in the junk drawer in his kitchen...I wanted to talk to you about you and my dad... Uncle Santiago to me everything…”

You stiffen. Why the hell would your cousin air out all your dirty laundry with Frankie out on his Daughter?

“My dad has an old Shoebox filled with old photos of the two of you hidden in the back of the hallway closet.” She pulled the shoebox out of her bag, handing it to you.

You take the lid off staring down at a stack of photos.

“I would catch him staring at them from time to time. I used to look through these photos without him knowing. I always wondered who you were. I knew you must have been someone important to him. My best was that you two dated, Uncle Santi, confirmed that, but I found Dad bringing it back out for the first time in a long time, about a month ago. He’s been different lately. He’s sad. He tries to hide it from me, acting like he’s fine, but I can see right through him.”

You shuffle through the photos, a sad smile on your face at the memories they brought back to you.

“I just wanted to apologize, I know what happened between you and my dad… I know I’m the cause-”

“No no no.” You shake your head, setting the photos down in the box between you, placing your hand on her back.

“Lilah, that wasn’t your fault. What happened between Frankie and I is between us. Your Dad needed to go after you, and I don’t blame him one bit for doing that, that would be selfish of me.”

“I wish he would have told you about me. I think it’s terrible that he left without saying anything. And all those years without knowing-”

“I wish he would have told me too, but what’s most important is that he has you. You’re all he needs”

“Yeah he does have me, but what he needs is you. You’re his missing piece to his puzzle. He could never love someone as much as he loves you and me.”

“Lilah…” You turn away from her, tears starting to form in your eyes at what she said.

“Look, I know you’re getting married a-and I know my dad hurt you, but I think you should be with him. You’re the love of his life...You’re the one that got aw-”

“Lilah!” You hear a man shout.

You see Frankie walking towards you both.

“Oh, shit” Lilah murmurs quickly standing, grabbing the shoe box, she had no time to hide away in her bag as well as you.

“Lilah!” He was angry. You quickly stand up

“Dad!-”

“Lilah what-” He stops talking, taken back by you standing beside his daughter.

“Smiles?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you confused. He turns his focus back on his daughter.

“Lilah, what the HELL are you doing?!”

“Dad, I-”

“You lied to me about where you were going?! You left your books at the house, I went over to Rehma’s, only for her parents to tell me you weren’t over there!”

“Dammit, I forgot to tell her the plan..” Lilah mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Lilah, what are you even doing?! And why are you here with my daughter?” He pointed at you. His eyes catch the box “Where did you get that?” he looks up at Lilah

“The hallways closet…I-I know about you and smiles…”

His chest heaves. “What is this?” He turns his attention towards you, staring at you tensely. “You are trying to get back at me for all the shit I did?! You really gotta drag my kid into this?!” he yelled.

“Frankie-” you tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let you speak

“I know I fuck up, but this is low! You don’t go meeting up with my kid and talk about our business! Why would you even-”

“I’m the one that asked them to meet me here!” Lilah spoke up.

“Lilah, how do you even know-”

“Uncle Santiago told me. He told me everything. Valentine's day when I told you I was a Rehma, I was at Uncle Santi’s house. I’ve known about the shoebox for years, Dad…”

He scoffs. “Of course he fucking did...Why are you here with smiles?”

“...I was…” Lilah looks down at the ground.

“You were what, Lilah?”

She sighed. “..I was trying to get them to take you back…”

“Oh god…” Frankie groans, rubbing his face.

“Dad, I’m-”

“Lilah! You can’t be serious right now!!!” he began to yell again.

“Dad, you're sad! I can see past the fake smiles and the facade you put up! I’ve seen the way you look at those photos! I thought I could-”

“You have absolutely NO right doing what you did!!! Lying to me, going behind my back, and getting involved in things you don’t understand and that are none of your business!!! You need to apologize to Smiles right now.”

Lilah turns to face you. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, you see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Go wait for me in the truck-”

“Dad-” she croaks.

“I said go wait in the truck. We’ll finish this conversation at home.” He says strictly.

Lilah listened to her father, quickly walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Frankie felt embarrassed and humiliated. He was angry with his daughter that she would put him in a situation like this.

“Frankie-”

“Don’t, Smiles...Just don’t.” He played his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He turns around, his back towards you. He stares off at the forest a few yards away.

“She meant well, Frankie…”

“Yeah, but nothing she does or planned on is going to change anything…” he chuckles.

“You’re still going to get married.” He turned to face you. He was crying.

It was the first time in a long while since you saw him cry. He bottled up his feelings, but he finally found his breaking point.

“I thought it was gonna be us you know. You were it for me. You were the one, but I fucked things up. I fucked things up so bad.” He cried, his eyes growing red. “I should have told you about Lilah. I should have never left you like that, the way that I did. I’ve regretted it every day. We’d probably still be together. A-and now you’re about to get hitched to someone that isn’t me in a couple of days.That should me! I should be the one waiting to see you walk down that aisle, that should be me you’re walking towards, not Alex…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“I’m gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Frankie..” you breathed. He walked up towards you, grabbing your side of your face, passionately kissing you. The kiss was desperate, he pulled you closer to him. He needed to kiss you one last time. You both pull away breathless, but he sneaks a few more short kisses before you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“I love you so much, Smiles... I’m sorry for everything.” With that, he pulls away from your grasp, walking away.

He leaves you standing alone.

Tags // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish @sara-alonso @lydiascottage @eternalkara

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #Frankie #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

107 notes · View notes

dadolorian · 4 years

Text

Seven Days of Valentines, (Diamonds and Daddies side story) Whiskey x F!Reader CH 4

A/N: Thanks to @talesfromtheguild for Beta reading and helping me with many ideas for this! This will be a weekly series leading up to Valentines Day

I try to keep Readers physical appearance as open as possible for this story, but please note in these chapters shes going to become more of a ‘character’, some specific interests of hers are going to come into play.

This is canon to the main Diamonds and Daddies story, but i am uploading as its own thing. You do not need to have read Diamonds and Daddies to read this, just know its a fic about Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels being a Sugar Daddy and the reader is a professional Sugar Baby.

Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader Warning/tags: established relationship, P in V sex, fingering, Oral ( F receiving) , multiple orgasms, over stimulation, dirty talk, Daddy kink, DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl) checking of safe word, possessive language, aftercare, toys, squirting, pussy slap, nipple/clit pump, some mild fluff

Let me know if i forget anything

Word count: 6K +

My master list Seven days of Valentines masterlist AO3 LINK Buy me a Kofi

Summary: Whiskey whisks his Sugar baby away for a romantic Valentine’s getaway. Day four, jack gift Honey Bee a special gift.

Thursday 12th of February

As promised, you were left with a very sore and tender pussy.

You awoke in uncomfortable pleasure with Jack's face buried between your legs, devouring you as if he hadn’t had his fill of you less than eight hours earlier.

Lazily, you tried to push him away with your hand, in a feeble attempt to fall back to sleep, however thanks to your lingering sensitivity and the skill of his tongue he managed to coax you to orgasm despite your meager attempt to recede back into sleep.

You whimpered, grogginess clear in your high whines, as Jack lapped you up, savoring your taste before beginning to kiss his way up your body, pushing up his t-shirt you still wore to kiss at more of your soft skin. He gravitated towards your lips finally, lazily melding his mouth to yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, alongside that taste you couldn’t describe as anything other than Jack. You moaned together, as if relieved to be connected once again finally.

Strong, familiar arms wrapped around you and lifted your hips to his, he hissed into your kiss as your soaked core rubbed up against his erection through his sweatpants.

“Is your sore pussy up to taking Daddy this morning?” he asked when you finally separated your lips from one another. His voice was raspy with sleep and need.

“If I'm not too sensitive for you to eat me out before I’ve even woken up, then I’m sure I can take your cock Daddy,” you cooed, giggling at the way his eyes darkened and the hungry look he gave you as he quickly hooked his sweats under his cock and balls.

“If you can still take me after last night, then clearly I didn't do a good enough job,” he teased before he pushed himself inside you with a satisfied groan.

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Even with Jack’s morning distraction he had the two of you out the door, before noon, dressed ready in warmer clothes than usual due to the reported snowfall.

He took you to Piazza Navona, it was beautiful, even with the overcast gray sky, thanks to the cold February air it was not as busy as you expected, giving you and Jack plenty of space to roam about the decadent square to observe the beauty of the architecture and fountains.

Snow covered the ground, which did not dampen your experience in the slightest. Jack promised to ‘make up for it’ in the future by taking you back in warmer months, but you silenced his worries with a kiss.

“I am thrilled we are here, even if it's cold, I don't need blue skies and sunshine to appreciate any of this Jack.”

He gave you a soft smile in return, feeling some of his worry lift.

“I still want to take you back here Sugar, one day.”

“I would love that, I just don't want you thinking I'm somehow disappointed because you took me here in late winter. I love it Jack, thank you.”

You shared a deep kiss in front of one of the fountains, as the only two people in the square.

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You were equally as excited when Jack took you to your next location for the day, and found it was just as empty as Piazza Navona. Trevi fountain was covered in snow, the blanket was growing steadily thicker as snow began to fall, Jack was grateful he had the foresight of an umbrella that day, opening it up and pulling you to his side as you both made your way over to the famed fountain.

“This is amazing, that we get to experience such a place, just the two of us” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder, huddling closer to him against the cold.

“It seems surreal Darlin,” he hummed beside you, kissing the crown of your head. “It’s like we’re the only two people in the world.”

You giggled. “Hmmm, and is this what we would do? If we were? Travel around, seeing the sights?”

“If it were just the two if us, I would want nothing more than just to explore the rest of the world with you, Honey Bee,” he smiled.

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

You flipped through photos you had taken that morning on your phone as you sat in the passenger seat, Jack beside you holding your free hand as the driver took you to wherever he had planned for your lunch.

You giggled at one particular photo, Jack was pulling a face into the camera as he would often do when in a playful mood.

“Send me them when you get a chance Darlin,” he said warmly beside you, smiling at your smile. You gave him a nod before swiping through more.

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Lunch, as it turned out, was very similar to yesterday's lunch, as Jack had surprised you with another workshop. However, this time you were taking a pizza class.

Your stomach growled as you entered the warm Pizzeria, shrugging off the thick winter coats you wore and hanging them up. You were grateful for the change in temperature as you both cleaned off the snow clinging to the rest of your clothes before joining the small class.

You decided to spend the time this lesson enjoying the experience more than teasing Jack, who seemed just as agreeable to the notion as you stood side by side at your station, listening to your instructor.

You had a lot of fun, Jack kneaded the dough for you as you stood to the side, admiring his arms as he rolled up his sleeve and got to work. As the dough was stored away to rise, you cleaned your station together, sitting down to decide what toppings you each wanted.

Your pizza base was an uneven circle, Jack rolling it out once they were all deemed acceptable. You giggled at the lopsidedness of it, taking a quick photo of Jack’s pout as you giggled over your lumpy pizza base.

Together you made the sauce and spread it on your base, before you were finally allowed to decorate it with toppings. Before you could start, Jack made an equally uneven heart shape out of your shredded mozzarella, and with sauce bottle in hand, he managed to write a very messy “JD ❤️ HB”

You ‘awwed’ at the gesture, quickly snapping a picture of Jack next to his creation, smiling proudly.

“How very ‘cheesy’ of you,” you joked lamley, making Jack groan.

You finished putting the rest of your toppings on before you were finally allowed to deliver your pizza to the pizza oven. Jack was thrilled to get to use the large wooden pizza peel, and you made sure to take a video of Jack putting your pizza in the large oven to cook with help from the instructor.

While your lunch cooked you cleaned everything up, leaving your station as spotless as you found it. When the food was ready you and Jack sat at the tables, alongside other couples, chatting away happily as you all ate together, his arm around you lazily.

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You were surprised when Jack led you back to the hotel much earlier than you expected, having just finished lunch and bundling back up in your coats to brave the increasing snow.

You weren't complaining though, as you entered the lobby just as the snow had started to become a blizzard, more than happy to escape the cold for the rest of the day.

You were taken back to your room, and perhaps a little disappointed as you entered the bedroom, finding no gifts laid out.

Jack took notice, chuckling and kissing your cheek.

“Later Honey, we’re only stopping by to get rid of our winter gear,” he said warmly, shedding his coat once more and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. He encouraged you to do the same, so quickly you dressed into a large baggy sweater dress, warm leggings and soft ugg boots. He took your hand once you were ready, and just as quickly as you had arrived to your suite, you were swept away to some unknown part of the hotel.

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

You were delighted when you passed through two large glass doors to what you could only describe as a mini spa resort.

The air was warm and misty, smelling vaguely of vanilla and pine, tiled floors made shoes click as they passed over it, the walls were gray, with a large mural walk behind the tall reception desk. The hotel's logo stood out on the mural of trees, and sitting underneath, behind the desk were two petite young women who greeted you with a smile.

“Mr Daniels?” one of them asked in a strong italian accent.

Jack smiled and nodded, pulling you with him as you were led down a short hallway to the side, and then into a changing room where robes and towels waited for you.

You both undressed in your cubicles, putting on the towels and plush white robes provided for you. Jack took your hand back once the two of you were ready for whatever treatment you were about to get.

As usual, Jack had spared no expense, and the two of you were treated to a full spa experience. Jack had even gone the extra mile to give you a full beauty treatment as an added bonus.

You were able to relax in the Sauna together, your head resting on Jack’s shoulder as the heat sweat away your stresses. That was followed up by your beauty treatment. Mani and pedi, facial, exfoliation, face mask, eye mask, you experienced the full works, all while Jack cooled off in an Ice bath.

You enjoyed your pedicure along with a small sample of fruits and sandwich , followed up with a delicious slice of decadent cake, and a glass of champagne.

And the entire spa experience was topped off with a couples massage.

Jack reached across the small gap between your tables whenever he could to hold your hand in his. Any tension you had in your body melted away thanks to the expert hands of your masseuse and the scented oils coating your skin.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, trying hard not to fall asleep due to your extremely relaxed state, waiting to enjoy the feeling as much as possible by not drifting off.

You giggled, along with your masseuses when Jack's steady snore revibriated along the tiled walls, his hand relaxing in your grip as he drifted off, completely and utterly relaxed.

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By the time your massage had ended you were feeling more loose and relaxed than you had ever felt in your life, you rolled your shoulders with a content sigh, loving how loose your muscles felt.

“Damn Darlin, I didn't even realize my back was hurting so much until the pain went away,” Jack sighed beside you, taking your hand as you made your way back to the changing room to shower off the oil still coated to your skin.

“You enjoy your beauty treatment?” he asked, taking your hand in his once you were dressed, inspecting your manicure and affectionately stroking your fingers with his.

“Yes,” you nodded smiling at him. “Thank you.”

He smiled back and kissed your forehead. “Not that you need a beauty treatment Darlin, you’re already stunning,” he said, making you blush.

Washed, dried, and dressed you made your way back to your suite together.

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As he had promised earlier, gifts were now laid out on the bed, you bounced over to them excitedly, making Jack chuckle at your eagerness. Three boxes, with no clothes set out that evening, which surprised and intrigued you. As expected, one of the boxes contained a lingerie set, red and lacy, but unlike the other set the had bought for you so far, they were not intended to be practical, usable underwear as well, as the cups of the ‘bra’ were not there, the lace would perfectly frame your breasts, leaving them exposed for Jacks viewing pleasure. The ‘panties’ were matching, crotchless, this set was purely to wrap you up nice and pretty leaving everything open to Jack so he would not have to remove a single piece from you to get what he wants.

He growled softly behind you, wrapping his arms around you to kiss at your neck. “Gonna look so good in that Darlin,” he said, voice deep with lust already at the thought of you wearing it.

“Open the others”

You placed the first box down back on the bed, reaching for the next closest box and lifting the lid. Instantly you felt yourself growing wet at the sight of its content.

“I hope after last night you won't be too sore to play with these tonight,” Jack’s teasing voice tickled your neck as you stared down at the toys in the box.

So far, in the short time you had been together you had experimented with toys only a handful of times, and so far, they had been simple bullets and vibes. Evidently tonight, Jack wanted to be a bit more, experimental.

One simple, silver bullet vibe, a finger vibe, a silicone egg attached to a silicone string you could only guess vibrated, and the largest dildo you had ever seen in person. Your heart was beating fast in anticipation, and you were sure Jack could feel it with his lips latched to your pulse point.

“Open the last one,” he rasped.

You almost dropped the box as you opened it, overwhelming anticipation making you shake as you stared down at a toy you had only ever dreamed about being used on you.

Nipple and clit pumps, you were certain Jack was planning on a night just as intense as the last night, and you were more than looking forward to it.

“Go, get changed, I’ll be waiting for you.”

You were quick to change in the ensuite, touching up your hair in the mirror and re-applying Jacks favorite mascara. When you came back out to the bedroom, dressed in the exposing red number, Jack was laid out on the bed, even more exposed than you, completely nude as he lay back with a cocky grin, slowly pumping his hardening cock.

You feigned feeling bashful, hiding half of your body behind the door frame and avoiding his eyes. He chuckled, becoming you over with his finger.

“No need to feel shy Darlin, you look good enough to eat,” he hummed, still stroking his cock slowly with one hand while the other was open to you in invitation. You padded over the soft carpet, still pretending to feel shy. As soon as you were in reach he pulled you to the bed, pushing you onto your back and bending over you to give you a kiss.

“I really could eat you up, you sexy little thing,” he teased, his fingers dancing across your skin to the lacy edges of your ‘bra’, the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare breasts as he played with the lace.

“These,” he said, squeezing your breasts, weighing them in his palm. “A meal fit for a king,” he continued, growling before dipping his head further to mouth at your breasts. He lavished attention to them, making sure to toy with the one not currently in his mouth with his hand, squeezing, kneading the flesh in his large calloused hands, and tweaking your nipple while he licked and suckled on the other one.

You moaned, already aroused just by looking at the toys he had selected for that night, but even further so now. You felt your arousal leak out of you, with no barrier to hold it thanks to the lack of material covering your centre.

Jack switched, making sure each of your breasts felt the attention of his mouth, you looked down at him, and found him staring back at you with intense, dark eyes, watching your every reaction, every gasp and moan.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he moaned agaisnt your skin, placing a few soft kisses to your peaked nipples before pulling away. His hand stroking the flesh of your thigh as he sat up, erection proudly twitching against his stomach.

“Which of those toys caught your attention most, baby?” He asked, positioning you gently further back on the bed.

“T-the pumps,” you answered truthfully, rubbing your coated thighs together in anticipation as Jack got up off the bed to collect the boxes.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to torture your nipples and poor little clit?” he asked, setting the boxes beside you on the bed.

You nodded up at him eagerly.

“Daddy will do just that,” he promised, picking out the finger vibe from the box and sliding it over his index, switching it on so it buzzed lightly. “But I want to try them all out on you baby.”

His finger started at your nipples, trailing slowly down your body until he reached your clit, circling it gently so the vibrations barely tickled you. You whined, lifting your hips , trying to gain more pressure to your clit, but Jack slapped your thich in warning.

“You take what Daddy gives you,” he reminded you, torturing you further by rubbing his vibrating finger over your clit directly, so lightly you could only just feel the promise of the vibrations against your swollen bud.

“Daddy please,” you whined, pouting when he chuckled at you, not taking pity on you.

“Patience is a virtue sugar,” he teased, leaning over to rasp in your ear. “Daddy will will make you cum so hard so much it fucking hurts if you be good for me.”

You moaned, knowing full well Jack always kept his promises if you behaved for him.

“Imagine that big one inside you,” he continued, knowing full well his words could turn you on just as much as his touches. “I wanna see your sweet little peach of a pussy stretch around that, your hungry little hole taking that massive cock, fuck, I bet it would hurt to cum around that thing, your cunt stretched so much and tightening around that, fuck I could cum just imagining that.”

You moaned again, nodding your head and silently begging for just that, wanting to please him, wanting that painful pleasure.

Your eyes were closed, imagining his little fantasy, how good it would feel when he surprised you by pushing the vibe right onto your clit, making you yelp.

“We’re gonna start small, and make our way up,” he said, sitting back up to watch you writhe under the pleasure of the vibe. “It’s going to be another long night Baby girl.”

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Jack had successfully made you cum with the finger vibe without ever sliding anything inside you, and had slowly worked you open with the small silver vibe, pumping it in and out of you slowly, bringing you back to the edge of pleasure before abandoning it to the side. You whined in frustration as he took his sweet time picking the next toy, much to your annoyance. There were two toys left in that box and you knew he was going to end with the larger one. He was simply trying to rile you up.

Deciding you were being just a bit too bratty with your complaints, he gave your pussy a harsh slap.

“Patience Baby,” he warned with a growl. “That's your second warning!”

You bit your lip, trying to silence yourself as he pretended to decide which toy to use.

Eventually he picks up the silicone egg and returned to his previous position between your legs, laying on his stomach so he could watch up close.

He turned the egg on, feeling it buzz in his palm before slowly pushing it inside you, cooing gently about how good your pussy looked, framed by your panties as it stretched around the widest part of the egg. Shoving it inside you as deep as it could reach he watched with fascination how slick leaked from you with each powerful buzz.

“Remember, you can’t cum until Daddy says you can,” he laughed before licking up your arousal with a moan. You heard him whisper against your folds how you tasted so good.

You were focusing hard on not cumming until he said so, but that was made far more difficult when he took a hold of the silicone ‘string’ attached to the toy, slowly pulling it down your channel and stretching your hole again.

You keened, arching your back and trying so hard to wait for his permission. He repeated the action, pushing the vibrating egg deep inside you before slowly pulling it out, stopping when you stretched around the widest point. He watched entranced, growling hungrily every time your entrance stretched around it.

He kissed your clit, circling his tongue around it, drinking up your moans.

“Fuck baby, watching my sweet little cunt stretch like this, just makes me want to see what else I can fit in you,” he moaned, lapping up at your folds now. “Im gonna buy the biggest fucking toy I can find when we get home, we’re gonna find your limit one day.”

His lips latched onto your core, eating you out vigorously, and still playing with the toy with his hand, he was struggling to grip it securely with how much you were leaking.

He shoved the toy back inside, pushing up right against your g-spot as he began suckling your clit.

You shrieked, trying not to wriggle too much as you begged, helplessly, for permission.

“Daddy! Please! Please! Pleasepleaseplease!” You wailed. Looking down at him, between your legs, eyes watching you intently again, you saw him nod.

Permission.

You thanked him with a cry as you arched further off of the bed, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he drank down your release, tongue lapping at your hole beside the silicone still hanging out of you. You clenched down around the toy, shaking as your walls contracted around the vibrations.

“Daddy!” You whined, slowly rocking your hips into his face as you rode out your orgasm. As the waves of pleasure washed away, Jack ever so slowly pulled the toy out of you, kissing your clit in praise as he did so. You whimpered, sensitive as he kissed you there.

He cooed again as you stretched around the toy, watching as he pulled it out at a snails pace, enraptured at the sight.

“My pretty little pussy,” he praised, diving to lap up at you again once the toy popped out of you. You mewled, lazily trying to push him away, but he wouldn't be denied his sweet treat.

Jack tossed the toy to the side and crawled up your body, lifting your thighs around his waist. Teasingly, he rocked his hips so his cock, now leaking pre-cum onto your skin.

“Daddy wants to be inside his pretty little pussy,” he rasped. “I know you’re sensitive baby, oohhh but daddy wants to make you a creamy mess before you take that big one, I need you slick with both our cum before I stretch you out with that thing.”

He was rambling, but watched your expression carefully as he lined himself up with your hole, smearing his pre-cum around your folds, waiting for any kind of refusal before pushing his hips forward and filling you easily thanks to his attentions with the egg.

“Fuck, there we go,” he groaned when the flesh of your ass met his thighs. Bottoming out inside of you. You moaned loudly as he filled you up, feeling his tip meet your innermost wall. “I aint ever been in a pussy this good Baby.”

Having neglected his cock for so long, choosing to pleasure you ahead of himself, Jack didn’t bother wasting time building up a slow and steady pace. He pounded into you hard and fast as he always did when chasing his own release and slaps echoing in the room.

He crashed his lips on yours, noses bumping together as the taste of your cum flooded your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, and messy, but Jack desperately seemed to need his mouth on yours as his hips rammed yours. You could tell by his desperation he would not last long, he rarely did when he had aroused himself so much by pleasuring you.

Once, twice, three times he bucked into you hard before warm cum flooded your insides, he pulled your bottom lip into his mouth and bit hard, but not hard enough to draw blood, groaning loudly.

You didn’t complain about the fact that he had sought his own release as he lazily pulled out of you, pushing his seed back inside you with his thumb, knowing full well he intended to make you cum at least once more that night.

“Baby,” he sighed, licking his thumb clean of your combined releases. “What's your color? You still good to try take that big one?”

“Green Daddy,” you sighed, settling into the pillows comfortably, preparing yourself for the challenge.

“My perfect girl,” he said proudly, kissing your cheek and retrieving the toy.

You knew there were larger toys out there, but this would be the largest you had ever taken personally, it was bigger than Jack, who was already an impressive size himself. He placed the toy beside you on the bed before opening the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube.

“I know you’re wet Darlin, you’re always wet for me, your horny little cunt’s always up for more, isn’t she? But we still need to prep you” he said, coating his fingers in lube and putting two in you straight away. The artificial lube, mixed with both of your cum made obscene noises as Jack pumped his fingers and stretched you open.

“Daddy can get hard again on that noise alone Honey Bee,” he chuckled, laughing harder as your eyes widened as you glanced down at his spent, wet cock that was already twitching with interest.

You bit your lip and wiggled slightly, stopping when his eyes cut back to your face in warning.

“Are you going to take me again Daddy?” You asked as a third finger pushed inside you.

“Ohhh, you can bet on it Baby,” he moaned, watching your hole stretching around his fingers. When he managed to fit a fourth, large finger inside you, he stretched you wide open so he could stare into your hole, groaning at the sight.

“My perfect little cunt,” he whispered before spitting into your hole, giving you an obnoxiously cocky grin before pulling his fingers free and shoving them in your mouth to clean.

Obediently you lapped them up, cleaning your combined cum and lube off of his fingers while his free hand opened the bottle again. Once he deemed his fingers acceptably clean he pulled them out of the hot cavern of your mouth and picked up the toy, coating it generously in lube.

“You sweet little pussy’s gonna look so good taking this,” he growled, shoving your legs apart as wide as they could go and lining the tip of the toy up at your entrance. He was extremely careful, as he pushed it forward, watching your reaction carefully for any sign of discomfort. Even with the stretching and copious slick from the lube and cum it was a struggle to take, the stretch was burning and so far he had only pushed the tip in. Jack paused, waiting patiently for your face to relax as he slowly pulled the toy out, then back in, pushing just a little bit deeper each time, pausing, waiting for you to adjust each time you grimaced.

It took a lot of hard work, but with both your efforts the toy was eventually pushed as deep as it could go. You both moaned in unison once the toy could go no deeper. Jack laid down on his stomach, between your legs, staring longingly once again at the stretch of your pussy.

“Baby,” he cooed in adoration, running this finger around the toy where your hole stretched around it, making you whimper. “Look at that, fuck, just imagine how much we could get to fit in you with practice. Your sweet, tiny little pussy’s stretched so wide, Can’t wait to make you cum on that, bet it’s gonna hurt, make you cry, sweet thing.”

You were stretched so wide that the arousal you felt at his words could not escape, simply filling you up further, making you whine.

“Wait here, hold your legs open,” he ordered getting up off the bed, you noticed he was hard again already, having worked himself up watching you stretch around the new toy.

He picked up the last box.

Oh.

You had forgotten about that.

Jack gently picked up the pumps before returning to you, gently attaching the suction cups to each nipple and your clit. He loved how your breasts look, framed by the ‘bra’, pump attached to your nipples.

“Gonna make you cum so hard, it’ll hurt so good baby,” he rasped, voice deep and gravely with lust.

He squeezed the pump gently in one hand, watching how you would react with fierce intensity and hunger. The first pump was just enough to feel a slight suction, a mild sensation, but he continued to pump away slowly, watching the way your nipples began pulling up into the clear cups. He groaned at the sight, and once your nipples and clit started to feel the tight suction you whined loudly in both pain and pleasure, unintentionally squeezing around the large toy inside you still.

Without warning Jack repeatedly squeezed the pump hard and fast, startling you with the sudden, constant suction.

“Ahhhh! Daddy!” You yelped, struggling to keep still for him.

“You know your words,” he reminded you. “They’re there if you need them.”

You shook your head no, wanting that painful orgasm he promised you and was intent on giving you.

You were sobbing as he pumped away, clit and nipples red and raw as they were pulled up into the cups, there would be marks in the morning, no doubt about that.

It was painful, but incredibly arousing at the same time, they had never been this sensitive before, this abused and your head was swimming in the delirium of it.

Jack jerked himself off with his free hand above you, as you squirmed beneath him, the painful, burning stretch of the toy, and the constant and the arduous suction on your most sensitive parts were driving you insane.

To torment you further, Jack placed the pump down but did not release the suction, instead, grabbing onto one of the cups on your nipples and tugging at it. You cried, the pain agonising but it just made you anticipate your orgasm all the more.

Proud of the reaction he pulled from you, his hand moved to the suction cup on your clit, repeating the action. You shrieked, louder than you ever had before and Jack abandoned his cock to cover your mouth, as he repeatedly tugged at the cup, muffling your shrieks.

“Normally I love your noises Baby but we don't need people coming to investigate that now do we?” he teased. “Now I'm going to let go and you’re going to cum for me. You understand?”

You nodded into his hand.

“Good, you need to scream like that, do it into the pillow,” he said before pulling his hand from your mouth to grip the toy filling you up by the base and jackhammering it inside of you, still tugging at the pump on your clit.

It was instantaneous, and as painful as he had promised. Your hole was stretched as wide as it could possibly go right now and gripping hard on the toy that was stuffed inside you. Jack growled, watching with rapt fascination as your poor abused hole rhythmically clenched around the artificial cock.

You didn't shake as much as you thrashed, pulling the pillow to your face to scream your voice hoarse as tears escaped your eyes due to the pain you were drunk on.

Wet squelching, screams and Jack’s praises and curses filled the room as you came and cum gushed from you. Your body was both trying to milk the toy and push it out of you at the same time, and you realized the toy was being forced from you because you were squirting around it. Jack seemed unaware given how big the toy was, but he was preparing to enter you the second he pulled the toy from you, the hand previously tugging at your clit pump was stroking his cock while the hand still on the toy quickly pulled it out of you, coating him in the cum still squirting from you.

“Fuck Baby!” he shouted, surprised for just a moment before he growled and quickly shoved himself in your gaping pussy before you finished. Pounding into you at a brutal pace, unintentionally but happily massaging that spot making you squirt, drenching his front in even more cum before your body could take no more.

“Fuck I didn’t think this would be how I made you squirt the first time, but Im not complaining,” he groaned in your ear, ripping your pillow away from your face and pounding into you, holding your still thrashing body tightly to him, ignoring the pump still on you as his cock destroyed your hole. Over and over again.

His pace was brutal and you cried, from the intense pain and pleasure of your orgasm, from the suction still on your nipples and clit, from the overstimulation of him pounding into you before you had even finished, how tender and swollen your sex was that was continuing to be abused, and the words that dripped from his mouth.

“My fucking pussy, this is mine,” he growled, his voice sounding feral and animalistic. “No ones ever going to please you the way I do, fill you the way I do, every inch of you is mine!”

“Y-yours,” you eeped out, voice faint after screaming so loud.

That was all he needed to push him over the edge, shouting his release as he pulled you up into him and he pushed in as deep as he could go, ignoring how the pump dug into both of you, hitting your cervix, making you cry out as he came.You felt it leak out of you, your abused hole unable to hold it in as he pulled out. Pausing a moment to free you of the pump, making you hiss in pain and relief before Jack collapsed on top of you with a groan, resting his head between your breasts and wrapping his arms around you.

You weren't sure how long the two of you lay there, clinging to each other, hearts and breath slowing down and sweat cooling from your skin as you stroked his hair.

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Eventually, once he was no longer panting, Jack sat up, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead as he took survey of the mess on yourselves and the bed.

“You good baby?” he asked, the need for sleep clinging to his voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That was…”

“Intense?” he supplied with a weak chuckle, getting up off of the bed. “Come on baby, let clean up and get you sorted.”

You whined in complaint, rolling to your side, back to him.

“I know you’re tired,” he cooed, gently picking you up and carrying you to the ensuite. “But you’ll regret waking up in a wet bed, covered in cum and sore as all hell.”

“Fine” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, more than happy to let him do all the work, and you knew he was more than happy to do it.

He took extra care with you that night, cleaning you up, removing the lingerie from your body, soothing your sore abused nipples with ointment, changing the bedsheets and praising you as you snuggled to him every chance you got.

You were already asleep by the time he put you to bed and tucked you in beside him.

Taglist:

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#jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #my fic #Seven Days of Valentine's #DIamonds&Daddies #SugarDaddy!Whiskey #thots #smut

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valdemarismynonbinarylove · 3 years

Text

Nighthawk

Chapter 2 -Intoxicated Interrogations

Beta Reader/Co-Writer: @actuallynonsense

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Diluc rarely worked shifts at the tavern; he was too busy to ignore his duties as the winery owner. He came in once a week at most, sometimes once every two weeks. When he came in for his second shift that month, Charles pulled him aside. “There’s been a woman asking for you.”

“A woman?” He sighed, “Charles, there are many women who ask for me.”

“She’s been coming in every night; she asks if you work that night. When I tell her you don’t, she just leaves. She’s over by the front counter, I told her you were coming in today, so I don’t know how you want to handle it.”

Diluc nods, “I’ll take care of it, thank you for telling me.” He walked into the back room and put his coat up. Did she know him? Did she think that he was the type to go for older married women?

He tied his hair up and walked out to the bar, he noted that the woman had the same gold chain on, a hefty ring on her finger and the same half empty drink beside her. But the seat next to her was filled by a certain cavalry captain. He was on his first glass of Death After Noon, he had just gotten here then.

Diluc moved to him, “Before I let you have another one you need to pay your tab, it’s been growing.”

The cryo-user drained his glass and sighed heavily, a look of feigned sorrow painted over his features. “You won’t even cover your dear brother’s tab?”

Before Diluc could refute his statement, the woman spoke up.

“Master Crepus had two sons?”

“You didn’t know?” Kaeya tilted his head.

“I was only aware of Master Diluc, did Master Crepus remarry?”

Diluc and Kaeya stared at her in confusion, “My father was never married, Kaeya was adopted.”

“Ah, my mistake.” Silence hung over them, they both stared at the woman as she tried to change the subject. “Forget I said anything, I must be thinking of someone else.” She laughed nervously.

Diluc let it go, the talk about his father wasn’t something he enjoyed. The hardest part of losing someone is the amount of times someone brings it back up. He didn’t want to remember the pain of holding his dying father in his arms, crying out to him to stay alive.

He knew he would never escape the small traces of pity in people’s eyes when they looked at him — the commiserative look made him want to yell. He was left an orphan by fate’s cruel design, alone to cover his pain with work and money. Was that all he needed to do to forget the pain, to live the life of a King?

But can wealth and power truly banish those painful memories?

The pain of his life has sparked thoughts in the back of his head, they intrude his day and scream at him to hurt something, anything.

He gripped the spotless glass tightly in his hands, wanting to crush it between his gloved fingers. He wanted to yell at everyone to leave his bar, the noise was getting too loud. The noise in his head was screaming.

It was all too loud.

Yell at them.

Shut up, please.

Crush the glass.

Leave me alone.

It’s your fault.

Please.

You’re the reason he’s dead.

“Hang on,” Kaeya turned, “Why don’t you know anything about Master Crepus? You claim to be aware that Diluc is his son, but how would you know that if you don’t know anything else about Crepus?”

“I knew Crepus back in the day, we were both very young, naive. Diluc wasn’t alive then.”

“And yet you know nothing about him? That doesn’t seem true.”

Diluc stopped, letting his grip loosen on the glass as he placed it under the counter amongst the dozen others, he listened in on their conversation.

“Well,” She refrained from looking at either of the brothers, “I’m getting old, and I haven’t seen Crepus in years. It’s not like he’s all I think about.”

“I never said he was all you think about.” He argued.

“And I just said he wasn’t.” She raised brows.

He smirked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Just one, maybe two at most.”

He ordered her a Death After Noon, she took a sip and grimaced at the amount of alcohol in it; it burned down her throat and left a bitter finish on her tongue. Kaeya drank his glass like he had just been poured water.

“Tell me more about how you know Crepus.” He said, propping his head in his hand as Diluc poured him a new drink.

“I’ve known him since I was a child, we grew up together.” She sipped her drink, “He was a nice boy, very sweet. He used to buy me flowers on my birthday.” She sighed at the memory and took a longer sip of her bitter drink. “I do miss him; we grew into adults together.”

“Sounds romantic.”

She flushed red, “No, no we weren’t romantic.” She waved her hands in front of her face.

“So, you knew Crepus well? Why act like you don’t know him?”

“No reason.” She finished her drink, placing the empty glass next to her. “I’ve just begun to forget things about him.”

“Refill her drink.” He told Diluc, leaning closer to the woman in front of him.

“I haven’t spoken about him in years. When I found out he was dead, I just…what could I do? I wasn’t in Mondstadt. I was in Inazuma, trying to live a normal life.” She sighed, “I really do miss him, he was a wonderful man.”

She watched Diluc place another glass of wine in front of her, she grabbed it and eagerly began to try and drink the memory of Crepus away.

“Slow down,” Kaeya warned, “That’s not going to feel good tomorrow.”

“I don’t care anymore.” She mumbled, becoming increasingly more intoxicated as minutes passed, her eyes half-lidded and her hands slightly shaky.

After a few minutes of silence, she slurred slightly, “I hate thinking what could have been if I never left.” She groaned, “He must have truly hated me for leaving.”

Kaeya smirked slightly, he was getting her to crack open. “What could have been? I thought you weren’t romantic?”

“I meant friend wise, I did say we weren’t romantic. What are you trying to get out of me?”

“I’m not trying to get anything out of you, we’re just having a friendly conversation.”

“It feels like you’re trying to get something out of me.”

“What do you have to hide that you can’t let out?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You haven’t looked Diluc in the eyes ever since we’ve been here, you keep fidgeting in your seat, and you’re getting awfully defensive over an offhanded question. Obviously, you’re anxious — so, that begs the question: why?” The Cavalry Captain folded his hands, leveling a sly gaze at her over his emptied glass. “What is it that you’re not saying?”

Her green eyes widened. “I’m not—”

Kaeya moved his seat closer and leaned in, “How did you really know Crepus?”

“Kaeya—”

“—Enough.” Diluc interrupted, sending a sharp glare at the cryo-user. “Leave my patrons alone, stop interrogating her like she’s a criminal. Get out of my tavern.”

“Don’t start to get harsh on me just because we’re talking about your dear old daddy.”

“Get out.” He repeated.

“Am I not a paying customer? It’s bad for business to kick me out.”

“I won’t ask again.”

“What is it about your father that you can’t handle? Are you really still in grieving? It’s been ten years, Diluc, how much time do you need? Are you that much of a daddy’s boy?”

“You grew up with him as well, you act like he didn’t raise you. Thought I guess maybe somewhere along the line you had failed to mention your true motive.”

“He was a fool who took in a child that wasn’t his.”

“Was he supposed to leave you there? If I had known what you were going to turn into I would have begged him to leave you there to die.”

“You’re awfully feisty tonight, Crepus does bring up bad memories for you doesn’t he? Remember the day you two were walking back to the Winery? You were so young back then, so naive.”

“Yet you’re the same idiot you were then as you are now.”

“Don't be so harsh, Diluc.”

“I won’t ask again, get out or I’ll throw you out.”

“I’d like to see you tr—“

He was interrupted as Diluc walked over from behind the counter and grabbed his collar harshly, dragging the Cavalry Captain to the door. The redhead tossed him out of the tavern and turned to the man standing outside, Patton.

“Don’t let him back in.”

“Understood, Master Diluc.”

Diluc didn’t even bother to give Kaeya a second glance before he turned and went back inside to finish off his shift. The woman was beginning to stand up to leave. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re drunk. Stay here until closing so I can make sure you’re home safe.” He offered, almost as an apology. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Thank you, Master Diluc.” She sat back down.

“Just Diluc is fine.” He grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water, placing it in front of her.

She nods, gratefully drinking it down. “I’ve never drank this much before, I don’t know what happened.”

“He distracted you, that’s how. He does it often, this isn’t the first time I’ve kicked him out.”

“It seems to be the first time you’ve truly lost your cool on him.”

He didn’t say anything, he just gave her a glance and took her empty glass, filling it up again.

They sat in silence for the rest of the night, Diluc served his final customers and cleared off numerous tables as the tavern began to close. The sky had fallen black by the time the woman had begun to sober up.

She had begun to dose off on the bar, her head resting on her hand as she tried to keep her eyes open, waiting for Diluc to take her home. The fifth glass of water she drank was left half full, the sweat of the cold liquid beginning to leave a white ring below it. She sighed and rubbed her eyes vigorously, hoping to wake herself up even just a little.

Diluc cleared his throat next to her, she threw her head back and looked up at him with half lidded eyes. “Time to go?” He gave her a nod and slipped on his coat. She looked and saw that her glass was gone, when did he clean that? Wasn’t it just there?

She let out a tired sigh and got up from her seat, making sure she wasn’t going to leave without anything. Diluc led her to the door and held it open for her, she gave a small nod in thanks and closed her eyes tightly as the harsh cold wind nipped against her exposed skin. She shook her head, her body letting out a shiver of discomfort.

Diluc closed the door and locked it up, placing the key back in his pocket as he turned to look at the woman. The tip of her nose was a light shade of pink, her hair gently whipping around from the small gusts of wind that blew past them. He noticed her slightly shaking, quickly taking off his coat he held it out to her.

“Here.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly—“

“You need it more than I do, just take it while I walk you home.”

“Thank you, Diluc.” She smiled and placed his coat on, the warmth of the fabric radiated onto her skin as she buttoned it up.

He just offered a nod.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I never told you my name.” She apologized, “I’m Aurelius.”

“Well then, lead the way.”

“Of course, follow me. I’m in Springvale.”

The petite blonde took him down the pathway she used to walk down every night with Crepus. The stars were never this bright in Inazuma, when she took late night strolls down the island harbor. She looked up at Diluc, and when his eyes met hers, she felt like she was sixteen, the man next to her, her best friend.

Diluc didn’t have a beard, but if he did ever grow one out, she would have believed he was Crepus. They were almost identical, yet Diluc was older than the last time she ever saw Crepus.

When the woman spoke again, her tone was wistful, tinged slightly bittersweet. “You dress just like your father, you know? He dressed the same from his youth up into his early twenties.”

“I styled my clothing after his," Diluc replied with a short sigh, before adding absently, "I thought maybe I could submit myself into his role easier.”

“It must have been hard, taking his spot so abruptly.”

His expression darkened, lips thinning into a tight line. The sympathy overflowing in her voice had the same cadence as the citizens who stopped by to console him after his father had died, those empty, thoughtless words which could accomplish nothing but garner pity. “I apologize, Aurelius, but I don’t wish to speak about this.”

“Of course," she hastily retracts. "It was ill-mannered of me to bring this up, apologies.”

He was grateful that she easily dropped the topic, he wasn’t one for idle conversation anyway.

The Springvale sign reached her gaze, she made her way up to it and took off Diluc’s coat.

“I’ll be alright now, thank you.”

“Goodnight, Aurelius.” He turned, placing his coat on.

“Ah, wait!” She grabbed his arm. “If I need to contact you, how would I be able to do that?”

“You can set up an appointment through the winery, though I cannot promise that a spot will be available. My schedule has been rather busy recently.”

“I will try my luck.” She smiles, “There are just a few things I wish to say.”

“Is now not a good time? You have my attention.”

“No, now truly is not a good time, I still feel a little ill. Better for me to come to my mind before I start spewing nonsense.” She bowed gently in apology, grasping her hands together tightly.

“Suit yourself.” He gives a single, short nod before adding, “Try to stay away from Kaeya for a while.”

“Trust me, I will.” She laughed. “Goodnight, Diluc.”

“Goodnight, Aurelius.” He said once more, making his way to the winery.

Aurelius stood and watched his figure disappear down the small dirt road, she let out a sigh, turning and walking up into her house.

——————————————————————————

@qiqiscocogoatmilk @zeyyackerman

Thanks for Reading!

#genshin dulic #genshin imagines #genshin diluc #genshin x reader #diluc scenarios #diluc headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #master crepus #master diluc #nighthawks #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #val writes

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obx-adventures · 4 years

Text

The Introverted Twin

Summary - Being John B’s bookish twin isn’t easy. Especially with my best friend, Pope, being weird about me getting closer with JJ.

Catch up here: Ch 1

——

Chapter 2

When I get home from my SAT retake, I’m met by John B and JJ at the porch. They both have huge grins on their face, and I can see JJ practically vibrating in excitement.

“Uh, what’s up guys?” I ask confused.

“We know that we fucked up the other day and we want to make it up to you,” my brother tells me as he puts his hands on my shoulders. “We are taking you to that planetarium in Chapel Hill that you’ve been wanting to see.”

I can’t help the enormous smile I give them. I’ve been wanting to go to Morehead for years, but no one would go with me. Not even Pope, who is just as nerdy as I am. I can’t believe the boys are willing to do this for me. I pull them both into a group hug and they both wrap their arms around me. I give them both kisses on the cheeks as I pull away from the hug and am surprised to see JJ blush a little.

We load into the van and I pull out my phone to research the exhibits we can see. The boys leave me alone, knowing that I like to make a plan anytime we go somewhere new. By the time we get to the ferry, I have the whole afternoon planned out.

“So, Sunshine, are you excited?” JJ gently nudges me with his shoulder once we sit down. John B is standing on the deck, so JJ and I are alone.

“So excited! I can’t believe you agreed to this. But I’m so happy.”

“Agreed to this? No way! I am not letting JB take credit. This was my idea.”

I feel my cheeks flush and quickly look down to hide my face. I’m stunned by JJ’s thoughtfulness. I always thought he wasn’t paying attention when I would talk about wanting to go.

“Thank you, J,” I say quietly.

“I told you I would do anything for you, Sunshine.” He grabs my hand and I get lost in the feel of our skin touching. While my hand is soft and dainty, his are rough and calloused. I’ve watched these hands fix the van, break open skin, and roll blunts. But I never realized how gentle they can be, how gentle JJ really is.

We sit in comfortable silence until my brother joins us. He gives us a weird look when he sees JJ holding my hand, but JJ doesn’t seem to care. Instead he prompts me to tell them the plan once we get there. I spend the rest of the ferry ride telling the boys about each exhibit we’re going to see.

----

JJ gently shakes me awake when we dock back on the island. After a full afternoon at the planetarium, I immediately fell asleep with my head on JJ’s shoulder when he got back to the ferry. I’m still pretty groggy so JJ scoops me up to carry me to the van. I immediately fall back asleep in JJ’s arms once my brother starts driving back to the Chateau. I wake up briefly when he settles me onto my bed 10 minutes later.

“Thank you, J,” I mumble as I adjust in my bed. JJ chuckles at my barely intelligible words. He leans down, brushes my hair out of my face, and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“You’re welcome, Sunshine. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

----

The next day, I wake up to the sounds of a full house. I check my phone and see that it’s already noon. I usually don’t sleep this late, so I jump up and get myself dressed quickly. When I walk out to the living room, I see all the Pogues chatting. Kie sees me first and pats the open seat next to her.

“Hey, sleepyhead, welcome to the land of the living.” I go sit next to her on the couch but lean in for a hug from my only girlfriend before getting comfortable.

I have always been grateful for Kiara Carrera. With my general awkwardness and having John B and JJ always around, I’ve always struggled to make friends. Pope and I bonded while in gifted classes in middle school and I was pleasantly surprised when he got along so well with the Gruesome Twosome (my dad’s nickname for JB and JJ when they were kids). But I never made any female friends until Kie joined our little group a couple years ago.

“How do you think the SAT went yesterday?” Pope asks me. I briefly fill in my best friend but change the subject before the other boys can complain. John B is beyond proud of my academic achievements but is quickly bored when Pope and I talk about school.

“Y/N, now that you’re done studying for your test, are you finally going to come out on the Pogue with us?” my brother asks me. I quickly agree to go with and start making sandwiches and packing snacks for our day.

As soon as Sarah Cameron gets to our house, we set out on our adventure. I’m pleased to see that the other Pogues are beginning to accept Sarah. Kie was vehemently against their relationship and JJ didn’t like her because she was a Kook. But my brother didn’t care and now she sits on his lap while he drives the boat and no one bats an eye.

Once we get out to our usual swimming spot, I decide not to jump into the water right away. As I lay down to get some sun, Pope comes over and lays next me.

“I thought you were going to come over after you finished the SAT yesterday,” I immediately feel guilty at Pope’s statement.

“Oh shit, Pope, JB and JJ surprised me with a trip to the planetarium yesterday. I completely forgot about our plans.”

“They took you to Morehead?” Pope asks in surprise.

“Yea, JJ felt guilty about the fight the other day, so he got JB to agree to go. They were waiting for me when I got back from the test.” Pope has a strange look on his face but before I can ask him what’s wrong, Kie yells to me from the water.

“You got JJ to go to a museum?” I can hear how incredulous she sounds without even seeing her face.

“Hey!” JJ yells, sounding slightly offended. “I can do smart people things. Plus, it was really cool. Y/N made me look through the giant telescope and we got to see this movie about the Carolina sky.”

I turn in surprise to look at JJ. I couldn’t tell yesterday if he actually enjoyed the trip or was just trying to have a good time for me.

“Dude, you actually liked that shit? I was so fucking bored!” I turn to stick my tongue out at my brother and see Sarah smack him upside the head, which makes all of us laugh.

“No, it was awesome!” I can’t help the smile that comes from JJ’s enthusiasm. Pope nudges me to get my attention.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going?” I frown at the hurt tone in Pope’s question. “I would have gone with you guys.”

“I didn’t think about it, Pope. They said it was to make up for getting into the fight the other day. I thought they meant it just for the three of us.”

Instead of responding, Pope gets up and walks to the back of the boat. He looks angry but I don’t know why. Even though he’s my best friend, we don’t do everything together. I really didn’t think this was a big deal, but I guess I was wrong. While I’m thinking about how to make this right, JJ climbs out of the water and sits next me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him,” JJ tells me. I turn to him and get lost for a minute while looking at his face. Just like the other day in my room, I’m in awe of how beautiful he is. Today, with the sun behind him and his wet hair hanging down, he looks even better. His eyes sparkle as they reflect the sun and ocean and his sun-kissed skin glows. He catches me staring and flashes me a blinding smile while raising an eyebrow at me. I quickly avert my gaze and try to change the subject.

“Did you really have fun yesterday? You weren’t bored like JB?”

“I had a great time. That stuff really was cool. Plus, I was happy to see you so happy.”

I don’t know what to say to JJ, but the butterflies are back in full force. It’s hard to doubt him when he sounds so genuine. I silently contemplate my relationship with JJ. I love to be around him and it seems like he actually enjoys spending time with me. But why?

After a few more hours of swimming, we decide to head back to the Chateau. John B has had a few beers, so I decide to drive back. Normally he fights me on this but Sarah grabs his hand and drags him over to sit with her. I see JJ sit next to Pope to try to talk to him, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the sound of the boat. When we get back to our house, Pope leaves without saying anything and I can’t help feeling hurt.

“He’ll come around, Y/N,” Kie tells me as she throws an arm around my shoulders.

“I just don’t get it. It’s not like I did it on purpose. I was just so excited to go, I didn’t even think about.”

“I think that’s the problem, sweetie,” Kie says kindly. She elaborates when I look at her in confusion. “His feelings are hurt because he thinks you don’t care about him.”

“Kie, he’s my best friend. Of course, I care about him.”

“I know you do.” I can tell she wants to say more but is holding back. When I raise my eyebrows at her, she goes on. “I think he realizes you don’t care about him the way he wants you to.”

My eyes widen at this. Is Kie trying to tell me that Pope has romantic feelings for me? That can’t be true. He’s never given me any indication that he does. But I suppose it’s possible that I’ve missed the signs. I’m usually blind about this stuff. I remember when a guy from school asked me out last year and John B laughed at my surprise. He said that the guy had flirted with me every day at lunch for months, but I was clueless. This is Pope, though. I know him better than I know myself. I would know if he was into me, wouldn’t I?

When we go back into the house, I start making dinner for the boys and myself (Kie had to go to the Wreck for her shift and Sarah had to pick up Wheezie) but my thoughts are still on my best friend. I’m startled back to reality when I feel something scald my skin. Grease from the bacon I was cooking for our BLTs has spit out and seared the back of my hand.

“Oh shit!” I yell as I run over to put my hand under cold water.

John B runs into the kitchen to check on me and offers to take over cooking duties. I go over to sit on the couch next to JJ while I rub the back of my hand. He reaches over to inspect my hand and looks concerned. Again, his rough hands hold mine gently as he delicately brushes his fingers over the reddened skin.

“You ok there, Sunshine?”

“I’m fine, J, just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Thinking about Pope?” JJ has always been able to tell when I’m lost in my thoughts. It’s strange because not even my brother notices most of the time.

“Yea, I saw you tried to talk to him. What did he say?”

“Honestly, nothing,” JJ tells me with a shrug. “He wouldn’t look at me and didn’t answer when I asked him what was going on.”

“Kie thinks he’s into me,” I admit quietly to him. When he doesn’t say anything, I turn to study his face. His normally bright eyes are filled with worry and his lips are turned down in a small frown.

“Well, do you want him to be into you?”

“He’s my best friend, JJ. I’ve never thought of him as more than that. And until today, I didn’t think he thought of me that way either.”

I don’t understand the look of relief on JJ’s face. But before I can ask him, John B brings over sandwiches for us. I spend the rest of the evening watching movies with the boys with my head resting on JJ’s shoulder. I fall asleep thinking about how I’m going to make things right with Pope.

Ch 3

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7 - Of testing the waters, special snowflakes and weirdly long showers

series masterlist

tags: @weasleysbees ; @gloryekaterina ; @thatguppienamedbae ; @sagittarius-flowerchild; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke ; @izzyyy-1

if you’d like to be added/removed, send a DM or an ask

warnings: probably swearing, mentions of food and eating, allusion to masturbation (which you can choose to interpret differently) word count: 2902

If you have any feedback, please let me know!

—————⑦—————

You walked out of the shower still lightheaded, but also weirdly ecstatic.

There were a few girls in the bathroom now, you reckoned it must’ve been past curfew if people were starting to get ready for bed. Walking up the spiralled steps to your room, you had half a mind to poke your head into the common room, as if some force was pulling you there. You felt as if you were absolutely out of your mind, you didn’t trust your brain. You also had felt this need to see George, even just briefly, as if you missed him already. You managed to pull yourself together, though.

You stepped into your room to Angelina, Alicia and Katie already there. You overthought what kind of greeting to use and instead said nothing, moving onto your evening routine.

“What’s up with you, weirdo?” Angelina asked endearingly with a slight chuckle, studying your figure. “What do you mean?” you asked back, trying to sound casual, hiding your face while you pretended to look for something in your dresser. “You look… tense,” Alicia quipped, giving the other girls a look. “Tense? Naah, I’m chill,” you turned to them and waved your hand around wildly. “Clearly,” Angelina agreed, nodding her head. “How was detention?”

You froze while pulling your bed covers back to slip into them.

Admitting you were in love with George to yourself was relatively easy, you knew it once you felt it. That was it. Sure, it was weird and new, but you’d have time to come to terms with it. Admitting to the girls, however – that was something else. For years you denied having any feelings for George, and whenever any of them suggested you two getting together in the future, you mocked them. You couldn’t just admit to them now that they were right in the end.

“We, uh- scrubbed cauldrons,” you replied. “Uh-huh, and how was scrubbing cauldrons with George?” Katie questioned with a glint in her eye. They were onto something, but you wouldn’t give in.

“Extremely boring and uneventful,” you answered, sticking out your tongue to them, then disappeared underneath your blanket.

Falling asleep that night proved easier than you thought. You had been worried that all the excitement and your heart running wild would keep you up for long, but soon after the girls stopped chatting you drifted away. Images of George in your mind kept a dorky smile on your face, as you hugged the stuffed panda he got you all those years ago tight.

—————⑦—————

Next morning you woke up with a jolt. You freshened up and subconsciously put in a bit more effort into your appearance – you felt good. Your thoughts were still mostly monothematic. You decided to give yourself some time to figure out your feelings before telling anyone, or worse – acting on them. But that didn’t mean you weren’t excited to see George, after what felt like an eternity.

You buttoned up your school cardigan, wondering if he’d be at breakfast. Fred and he had first period free on a few days of the week, including Tuesday, thanks to the small number of classes they took, so you couldn’t be sure.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him at the table, though, focused on his breakfast.

“Morning,” you greeted cheerfully, slipping into the seat next to him. You hopped over the bench graciously even though you had a skirt on, as others greeted you back. “You’re in a good mood, take it you slept off well?” George pointed out, his voice still a bit sleepy, and took a bite out of his toast.

You picked out some food and poured yourself some tea with a smile, thinking back to what good sleep you had and what kind of dreams it brought you.

“Slept off?” “You said you were really tired last night, you left dinner first and I didn’t see you later in the common room,” he noted. “Ahh,” you agreed, taking a sip of your tea. So you would’ve found him in the common room, you though. “Yeah, had a good sleep. You?” “Mmm, so-so,” he replied, gesturing with his hand. “Fred and I worked on the Fever Fudge until pretty late.” “You could’ve slept a bit longer, when do you start classes..?” You queried, hoping for a certain answer in the back of your mind. “Yeah, but we have no classes together until afternoon, I’d have only seen you at lunch before that,” he explained, stuffing his mouth casually, “you walked off so suddenly I wanted to know you were alright.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too wide.

—————⑦—————

Multiple times you had to scold yourself in Alchemy, for not focusing on your work. Your mind was running wild and you reached a conclusion. There was no going back, the dice have been rolled, alea iacta est.

It would be foolish of you to dive straight in, you thought. But since the two of you had already been so close, now you somehow felt this way, could George be interested in you romantically too? You decided to test the waters a bit for some time, see how it goes and if he really sees you as only a friend.

George occupied your mind now, you found yourself thinking about him often, your daydreams growing bolder as with time you got more comfortable with the idea that you were completely and utterly attracted to him. Both emotionally and physically. You craved his attention and realised that you always took it for granted. Now you searched for it, constantly wondering about the ways you showed each other affection as friends – wanting to only balance the line now, maybe step a toe outside a little bit, to see how George reacts to it. By the time for lunch, you were properly excited.

Once again, you took a seat next to George, who was busy talking. You sat real close, your sides touching. You resisted the urge to wrap your arm around his and lay your head on his shoulder and settled down.

George looked at you at the sudden contact. He couldn’t see your facial expression. Thinking it was the manifestation of your need for comfort, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed your arm gently. “Everything alright..?”

It took a lot of effort for you to not squeal and keep your face casual, pull yourself together.

“Yeah, why?” “Oh, I just… dunno,” he mumbled, dropping his arm. You looked up at him innocently, “I don’t mind that,” you referred to his embrace. “Oh I bet,” he chuckled, pushing into your shoulder and getting back to his food with a smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you mocked offence, hiding just how much your heart rate picked up. “Nothing, just- just joking,” he replied and got back to listening to Fred.

“Do you know if Frazer is back from the hospital wing?” you asked him on your way to Transfiguration, talking about your regular desk mate. You moved closer subtly, brushing your shoulder against his arm.

Frazer used to be one of the reserve players for the Gryffindor team, so George kept in touch with them. “I don’t think so, didn’t Angelina say anything to you?”

You knew they would still be absent, but that was not the point.

“Last time the seat next to me was empty it didn’t go well, is all.” “See, I’d sit next to you but then you’re just gonna complain how I keep distracting you,” he scoffed jokingly and put his hands in his pockets.

You took this opportunity to link your arm through his and waited patiently.

“’kay, I’ll sit with you,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “But I will be distracting you.”

And he did. But this time you happily let him. You put up enough of a façade so that McGonagall thought you were somewhat participating in class, while in reality, you had zero focus on the topic.

It started with him just nudging with his pinkie the hand you were holding down your notebook with, during the lecture. Then he took his quill and started a game of tic-tac-toe in his notebook and slid it towards you.

After you made your first move, you didn’t slide the notebook back, making George move his chair closer, so that you were both hovering over the paper together. You played a few games, each ending in a tie. Last round, as George was close to winning and you were about to make a move, he placed his hand on your quill hand, botching your move, then made his final one.

George sucked air in through his teeth, “would you look at that,” he mocked, earning a glare from you.

He then withstood two minutes of boredom, doodling in your notebook occasionally, before he started writing on the margin of your notes. This started a dumb joke contest between the two of you which lasted until the end of McGonagall’s lecture. She ordered you to practice, giving you a chance to talk.

“You’re awfully nice today,” George quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Am I?” “Yeah. No ‘George, stop it’, no ‘George, I wanna focus on the lesson’, no glares...”

What was supposed to be just a joke to tease you, got you thinking. Were you behaving too much unlike usually? You didn’t think you were being that nice, so could it mean-

“Am I that mean usually?” you asked casually, resting your chin on your palm. “Yeah, just aw-“ he started, sarcastically. Then he took notice of your expression, which wasn’t necessarily serious but he still worried, “-wait are you serious? I was just joking-“ “I know, I know…”

“You’re both idiots, you are aware of it..?” Fred butted in, leaning over his desk behind you.

George shot him a look and grabbed your hand, then still holding it, flipped Fred off.

—————⑦—————

The same week, Hogwarts was graced with the first snow of the season. It had started snowing around noon. By the end of your afternoon classes, there was a layer of snow on the ground already while the snowfall continued. That, paired off with your all-around angelic mood these last few days, made you excited like a child.

You pretty much ran out of the classroom, skipping through the corridors to the common room. Noticing George’s back by Fred and Lee, you practically threw yourself at him.

“It’s snowing!!” you shouted and they laughed at your giddiness. “Yes, we know, Y/N, there are windows in here,” George told you, settling you down.

You looked up at him with puppy eyes, pouting. You weren’t quite ready for Fred and Lee’s teasing yet, so you’d rather not have to say ‘George, go outside with me, but just the two of us, please’ out loud.

“Are you going out?” George asked with an adoring smile and you nodded enthusiastically. He looked at his mates who were already busy with something else. “Alright, get changed and I’ll meet you here.”

As soon as you stepped outside you marvelled at the sound of snow under your boots. You ran ahead a bit, looking around yourself at the snowflakes falling everywhere. George chuckled at you, but you didn’t mind, the sound of his chuckle only made you happier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy about the snow.”

But it wasn’t just the snow.

You turned to face him and shrugged. “I’m in a good mood,” you said, reaching your hand out for him to take. George took a second trying to read you, looking into your eyes, making you dizzy again. “Let’s go to the lake,” you proposed. “Okay,” he replied simply and finally took your hand.

It felt different from all the other times you held hands. While it was different in all the best ways, it made you extremely self-conscious – from the distance between the two of you (you ended up close enough to brush your arms together as you walked) to how tight your grip was (about medium). That’s how you walked in silence until you reached the lake.

“It’s beautiful,” you noted, truthfully. “Too bad there’s not enough to make a snowman, huh?” you said, kicking a bit of snow under your foot. “Give it a bit of time and we’ll make a troll out of snow.”

You looked around the beautiful landscape, mountains and trees covered in white layer of snow, the black lake beginning to freeze on the edges and the delicate snowflakes disappearing after meeting its smooth surface.

You glanced at your scarf, jacket and gloves. You brought George’s hand up, his black hand gloves providing better contrast, allowing you to better admire individual snowflakes. “Look,” you told him, completely enamoured with all the tiny shapes.

And he would have, had you not looked so adorable.

“I think about it every winter and it still baffles me, how each of them is different. And they’re all so beautiful. Each one is special…”

“Yeah… yeah, they are.”

—————⑦—————

You took a warming shower and put on some comfy clothes, then walked downstairs into the common room. It was full, non an extraordinary sight on a Saturday night, but the worst of it – George was sitting with a group of others and you couldn’t just outright ask him to ditch them to spend time alone. You walked over to the couch with your regular smile, hoping they wouldn’t stick around for too long.

You took a small spot on the sofa between Fred and George, who was spread wide in the corner, his arm on the backrest. You brought your legs up end settled close to him. To your appreciation, his arm didn’t move from its spot, behind your shoulders now. It didn’t take you long to rest your head on it, his body warmth drawing you in.

The afternoon in the snow took its toll on your friends, their conversation was slow, their tiredness visible. One by one they started getting up, stretching and heading up to their dorms, Fred and Lee amongst them.

“You going up?” George asked you through a yawn, noticing you didn’t show any desire of getting up from your spot. “I wanna stay here a bit longer,” you mumbled, looking at him a bit expectantly.

He hummed in agreement and shifted to sit a bit straighter up, allowing you to snuggle into his side without having to lay on top of him.

You put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around him like many times before, hoping he wouldn’t feel your thumping heart this time. George placed one of his arms around your shoulder, the other loosely over your arm on his middle and sighed contently, letting his head fall back and resting his eyes.

You breathed in his scent and let it consume you. Being this close felt electrifying, exhilarating yet comforting at the same time, it felt simply as if his arms were made to hold you.

“Been a while,” he said quietly. You felt the vibration of his voice and it sent shivers down your spine. You’ve always loved George’s voice but now it had a special effect on you. “Hm?” “Since we’ve… spent time like this,” he explained. Spent time like this, huh? “Hmm… has it..?” you mumbled.

“Are you drifting away already?” he chuckled and you followed, sleepily. “That comfy, huh?” “Actually, yeah… and I love this jumper, it’s so soft,” you blurted out, running your fingers over the fabric of his jumper. He didn’t say anything to that and you cringed a bit, scared you may have made things awkward.

“How are you?” George asked after a bit of silence. He noticed the question was vague, considering he saw you every day, so he quickly added, “after last week.”

You thought for a bit. “Alright, I think.” He hummed. “Had other things on my mind this week, distracting me,” you said truthfully. “Other… what things?” he asked, suspiciously. “See, that’s for me to know and for you to find out… maybe.” “Playing with moss again, are you?” he quipped, making you laugh. “You are in a good mood all the time lately,” he noted, his tone suggesting there was something else behind his words.

The two of you talked some more of day-to-day things until it got hard to keep your eyes open. Eventually, you both decided it was time to head up, not wanting to fall asleep on the old, worn-out sofa. You reluctantly left his embrace and got up, feeling the cold of missing his body right away. You stretched and yawned, stalling your parting ways.

George looked at you, putting his hands in his pockets briefly. He then took off his jumper. The t-shirt he had underneath had ridden up slightly, revealing a bit of his abdomen, but you looked away before he could catch you staring.

“Night, love,” he said, handing you the piece of clothing, not quite looking you in the eye. You hesitated at first, then took it from him, brushing your fingers against his.

“Sweet dreams, Georgie,” you replied and turned to walk away, swallowing hard as soon as he couldn’t see your face, feeling your cheeks burn up.

You took a long shower that night, one loud enough to mask just how much George occupied your mind.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley series

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91percentpynch · 4 years

Text

lonely heart - kevaaron au pt 4

oh look it‘s me, coming out of my dark hole to make you suffer with a super sad chapter with a nasty cliffhanger:) so get your tissues ready and enjoy!! okay first of all sorry that i didn‘t update this in a g e s and that it‘s rather short and for the cliffhanger, but i‘ll try to update it more regularly now:)

check this out for the other parts:)

trigger warnings: drug abuse, mention of suicide, mention of mental health issues, very sad aaron, mention of blood

“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”

Aaron got up as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. He knew he wouldn‘t be able to sleep alone tonight. Like every single goddamn night since he left Kevin. Like every single goddamn night since he made the biggest mistake of his life.

„Taylor?“, the blonde haired boy murmered, „You up?“

„Babe, you know I‘m up. My girlfriend lives three states away, we talk every single day at the same time as you call your man. Not that I would be able to sleep when you call him, cause a) i love Day and b) you‘re always sad and high and end up in my room anygays, so did he take the phone darling?“

Taylor was Aaron‘s roommate and the closest thing he had to a best friend. She had been there for him every single day, cuddled him, held him while he cried and dried his tears afterwards. And Aaron did the same when she misssed her girlfriend too much.

„You do realize he is not my man anymore, I fucked that up. Big time. He did actually take the phone just to tell me to fuck off and stop calling“

„You could always go over there and say it in his pretty face. Didn’t say you can’t come over did he?Pro point: Might lead to making out“, Taylor said while taking him in her arms. „Plus another pro point: you‘d get sober again. And you‘re less moody. No offense but a Kevin-less Aaron is hardly managable, like you‘re either a whiny little bitch or you‘ll give me the death glare of the cenutry. Legit worse than Andrew‘s and I called him a cute little baby boo once when I was drunk and he almost stabbed me right there with a look on his face like I just murdered Neil in front of him“

„Tay, I take that as a compliment. And we both know Kevin’s a bit of a dumbass so he did not exactly tell me Not To Come over just stopp calling. Anyways I don‘t even know where he lives. And stop talking about me getting high, you do the same shit“

„Yeah but I know my limits and I have not the same history as you. And for the i DoN‘t EvEn KnOwS wHeRe He LiVeS, phone number. Now“

„O- okay“, Aaron said and told her Kevin‘s phone number while Taylor calmingly stroked his back.

„Neat, got him“, Taylor said after a while. „He‘s with the scary big dude and his adorable little boyfriend I think? I have their address right here, I think we‘re gonna visit them tomorrow cause it‘s like 4 am right now and we don‘t wanna rob him his beauty sleep plus we don‘t want to wake the scary big dude. And I‘m pretty sure the adorable small golden retriver boy could and would stab us“

„Did you just stalk my ex and located his phone at 4 am like fucking Garcias in Criminal Minds?“, Aaron said confused.

„Anything for you big guy. And as I said I miss Day‘s pretty face, preferably in your pretty face so you shut the fuck up about how stressed and depressed and lonely you are.“, Taylor chuckled as Aaron looked at her shocked.

„Well I miss Casey, preferable in your face so YOU shut up“, Aaron was never as good in witty remarks as his brother. Especially high Aaron.

„Babe I think it‘s time for you to go to bed, you‘re not fun when you‘re sad, high and tired. Come here, let me cuddle you, while you whiney little bitch sleep“

Aaron slowly went over to Taylor and into her loving arms, laying down, trying to fall asleep.

After a long while aaron drifted into sleep, just to be greeted by familiar smaragd eyes. In his dream Kevin and he never broke up. Kevin was on top of him, his hands gently discovered Aaron‘s body, touching him as if he was sacred, something to worship. Kevin‘s lips were at Aaron‘s ear whispering sweet nothingness. Aaron‘s hips moved against Kevin‘s loving touch. „Stress release“ Kevin called these holy moments in dawn. „Highlight of my day“ Aaron called them.

The dream was as beautiful as it was cruel. It was as if his body, his mind were as much refusing as able to believe that Kevin was gone. It was his own fault, Aaron knew it. But the ever present voice of his mother, disapproving and disgusting, in his head was just too much for him to handle. He thought - foolish as Aaron was - that the pain of living without Kevin would be better, less cruel, less painful. But he never knew real love and therefore never experienced its lost. Until that faitful day. Until Kevin took his bags and left.

Aaron was used to pain. The hot one after an extraordinarily vicious hit. The cold one when his mother died. The numbing one when the hunger was growing more and more unbareable. But nothing was even slightly as hard to handle as the loss of Kevin in his life.

Kevin was the first good thing Aaron had. He gave him a will to stay, to try, to give this stupid sport everything he got. And Exy turned into more mundane things like getting his eating routine under control or getting a more or less acceptable sleeping schedule. The dark days were still there, for both of them, and they would probably never leave them completely alone, but they got less. And when they did happen they would hold each other together.

Ever since he fucked up things with Kevin, Aaron had more and more dark days. The voice of his mother telling him he‘s a failure, the bored stare of his brother and Aaron convincing himself Andrew wouldn‘t even bet an eye if he died, the voice telling him the world would be a better place without him growing louder and lourder every passing day.

Logically he could say that the death of a single person wouldn‘t change much for the over all world population, expect maybe it‘s some kind of insane mademan dicator or someone important, but still. It made sense. All he did after all was fucking up, being a failure, never good enough, never perfect.

His lonely heart only screamed Kevin‘s name and he knew if Kevin didn‘t take him back, his life wouldn‘t make much sense anymore. Well he would definetly not tell Kevin that. He would not manipulate Kevin into loving him, because that wouldn‘t be much better than not having him at all.

Aaron woke up the next day around noon. He didn‘t really feel like getting up, like getting up was simply too much. But Aaron knew he had to. He didn‘t want to worry Taylor more than he already did. And it would end today. One way or the other.

So he got up, put on the first pair of black jeans he could find and the first sweater his hands could find. Ironically it was one of the sweaters Kevin gave him, on the third of december last year. It was one of Aaron‘s favourites as well.

„Ready for the big Day, small guy?“, Taylor said winking at him.

„Not really? What the fuck am I supposed to do there anyways?“, Aaron replied on his way to the coffee maker.

„Talk to him? Deliver one of those borderline cringe big speeches. Get im flowers. Break into his bedroom and say ‚Draw me like one of your french girls‘, naked of course“, Taylor laughed at the face Aaron made, listening to her suggestions.

„I think I like the big speech. I mean I‘m shit with words, but I‘m sure you want to help your boy getting ‚his man‘ back, right? Also what kind of flowers would you give someone you dumped cause the voice of your dead mother told you it was wrong and disgusting, which you never told him for obvious reasons?“

„Honey, you‘re so fucked up sometimes, I love you but you should go to a therapist or something. Also I‘d say sunflowers or roses? I don‘t speak flowers man, I‘m the tech nerd. Not the romantic one, the nerd. But we‘re gonna make a snazzy speech and you‘re gonna get your man back“

After their typical breakfast - if Aaron didn‘t forget to eat again - they sat down together on the living room floor, paper and pen ready, trying to write the world changing speech.

„Why is this so fucking hard? Why can I only tell him how much I love and miss him when I‘m high off my ass“, Aaron complained.

„What about you don‘t think about him that much. Just tell me what you love about him and then we write that down?“, Taylor suggested.

Aaron took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. „I loved him because he was the first one who saw me. Aaron Minyard. And not just the other Minyard, the lesser twin, the shadow of Andrew. He looked at me and somehow chose me. Even if he could have had everyone else. He chose me, even though I‘m not special. Kevin chose the failure when he could have had the first prize. He looked at me and saw something worth loving, worth keeping around. Hardly anyone could tell Andrew and me apart. But it took him less than a day to do so. Kevin is strong, so so strong and somehow chose the most fragile thing he could find, took it and made it worth soemthing. Kevin made me feel something. Not numbness. Not pain. Something warm and beautiful and living. He gave me a reason to stay alive. Kevin made my life bearable, he made my life beautiful. We were both broken and we would probably still be broken if we were together but we softened each other‘s edges. Kevin believed in me when no one else would. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed and when I needed it. Kev gave me love and safety and I kicked it with my feet. This man is like a god who fell for whatever reasons for a homeless man. And I know I don‘t deserve him but I also know I cannot live without him. And I know that I must tell him that before it‘s too late. If it‘s not too late already“

Taylor wipped a tear out of her eyes. „That‘s it. You tell him that and we‘ll get him back“, she said. „Can I hug you?“

„Sure you loser“

„Ah there is my boy“

They spent the rest of the afternoon writing down the speech, making edits here and there. In the end Aaron collected the pages and went to his room to change. He replaced Kevin‘s sweater with a simple black jumper, put on his Docs, got his keys and left.

Aaro did feel a little uncomfortable, stalking Kevin like that. But he knew this was his chance to fix things. This was his chance to get Kevin back, to make his life worth living again. Which to be fair was a bit selfish, but you are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren‘t you?

Jean and Jeremy‘s apartment complex was a 15 minute drive away from the flat Aaron shared with his three roommates. Theirs was fanzier, obviously. After all Jeremy was a professional Exy player and Jean was some kind of semi famous artist or fashion maker or whatever. They could give Kevin the world. They could give him what he desereved. All Aaron had to offer was an apology and his love. No money. Not yet anyway. Just anxiety, depression and stress.

But if Kevin was willing to take his love, to give Aaron one more chance, he promised himself Aaron would make it count. He will tell Kevin how much he loves Kevin every single god damn day. Aaron will get therapy and work on his issues. Sober up and this time for good. He will do anything to be worth of god‘s love. Just that god in his case was a twenty two year old boy with black hair, forming soft waves at the end and a smile that will make the sun jealous. Eyes made out of smaragd. Lips so sinful and kissable.

Aaron sat down in front of the door, waiting for his courage to come back to him. He could do this. He would get his man back.

Hours passed, or maybe it were only minutes or seconds after all before someone came closer. Ever so slowly Aaron lifted his head, just to look in the ever so familiar green eyes, big with shock.

„You said to stop calling. You never mentioned face to face conversations“, Aaron said, his voice hoarse.

Kevin stared at him as if he was a ghost, a reminder of his past life, something he rather wanted to forget.

„Look I know I fucked up. I know I‘m not good enough for you. I know you deserve the world and I cannot give it to you. And when you look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t feel anything for me anymore, no love or hate or affection or whatever humans feel, I will turn away right now and go and never come back. Never bother you again. But if you allow me to apologize, if you however decide to gieve me one last chance, I prepared this whole ass speech for you“

Aaron was sure they could hear his heart beating against his chest, roaring, screaming to return home. To return to Kevin where it belonged.

Kevin‘s eyes wandered to the floor, his fingers automatically closed around his left wrist. A nervous habit. Just another little part that makes Aaron‘s heart ache.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he lifted those unbelieveable beautiful eyes and met Aaron‘s golden ones. Kevin studied him and the world around them stopped.

Out of the corner of Aaron‘s eyes he could see Jean going still, his breathing too calm, too even. It‘s the same thing Andrew does when someone fucks with Josten. At least his death would be fast. Or slow. Whatever. Aaron didn‘t really care, without Kevin it wasn‘t worth anygthing anyway.

„Why“, Kevin said after what feels like forever, „Why would I forgive you? Why would I give you another chance? Why would you think you can come back here just to fuck me over again? Aaron I loved you, I really did. I always will. You were my first love and maybe, yeah maybe, my last one. But right now I can‘t. I just, I just can‘t. Please leave. Please leave me alone. For now. Maybe, one day we can talk about it. But right now I cannot handle the thought of you to leave me. To tell me all these beautiful lies, to cut me open and leave me to bleed out. I love you“, tears were running down Kevin‘s cheek. Tears Aaron one day, a long time ago, promised himself he would never let Kevin feel again. Pain. Sadness. Everything because of his failure, because of his weakness, because he‘s a fucking piece of shit.

„Thank you for giving me a reason to stay. Jusst remember that you were my light, my warmth, my happiness and I never stopped loving you. Never will. Please just be happy“, Aaron replied as he turned around to walk to his cars.

When he was sure he was out of ear shot, he let himself feel. Feel the pain. Feel the loneliness. Feel the numbness and the cold and the hatred. It was in that moment, that moment where he was alone and nothing more to lose, that he decided that it was enough. He would end it. End it tonight.

„Thank you“, he texted Taylor. „I‘m glad I didn‘t eat you in the womb“, he texted Andrew. „You were not so bad after all“, he sent to Neil. And lastly „Thank you for taking me under your wing“, to Nicky. They would understand. It would take them some time but in the end they would feel better. They would be happier without them. Because at the end of the day he caused them pain and wasn‘t really worth a thing.

So when he got in his car, tears running uncontrallably down his cheeks, he knew what he had to do.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #ship: kevaaron #kevaaron

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