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what-the--curtains · 4 years

Text

In a Week

Part 1/4 - A storm blows into town

(Frankie “catfish” Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: a drive down to a friends wedding gets complicated when you fail to head a warning.

Authors notes: Hello! Another fic cause it keeps snowing here and I’m SICK OF IT but wouldn’t mind it if I was stuck with Frankie💕. Anyways hope you enjoy as always comments are welcome but be nice!

TW: mentions of dead sibling (war related), swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (based off of personal experience)

Tagged list: @agingerindenial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~There was nothing worse than a February wedding, well at least one that took place in the frigid northern temperatures you were currently residing in. So you were eternally grateful that your best friend Stella had chosen to have hers down in sunny south Carolina where she had just accepted her first permanent hospital position. She was marrying her first love, a fact you’d usually cringe at but, they were extremely cute together. Stella had met Genevieve through her brothers Will and Benny, well more specifically Will, who had drunkenly run his head through a window one night. This incident resulted in two things, first a nickname that would stick with Will for the rest of his life and a late night call to Stella asking her to come down to the hospital to pick him up. The boys had put Stella down as their emergency contact in an effort to keep their antics hidden from their parents who they knew would only worry. The nurse patching up her idiot brother was none other than Genevieve who was working through her university's clinical course, and the rest? Well, the rest was history

You’d met Genevieve, as well as Will and Benny, sporadically throughout the 8 years you had roomed with Stella, first during your undergraduate degree at Boston University and then again at Stanford while attending medical school. You’d choses Stella as a roommate without much thought, but after just a few weeks together you were inseparable up until the day that you were assigned to your residency. You were slightly jealous when you found out that she would be spending the next four years in the warm embrace of Carolina (and Gen) while you would be living alone throughout the freezing Chicago winters. The pagne of jealousy didn’t last long though, Chicago med was your first choice after all. So here you were, in the last year of residency and in the middle of a brutal -20 degree winter, preparing to drive the 13 hours down to watch Stella get married. You’d considered flying but you knew how fickle airplanes could be in the winter and the last thing you wanted was a delayed flight because a door had frozen shut. Your friends had tried to convince you that driving down alone was far too dangerous a venture and none were more concerned than Santiago Garcia.

You’d known Santiago your whole life. Him being your brother's best friend resulted in him spending a lot of, some may argue too much, time at your house throughout both your childhoods. Your brother, Parker, was 8 years your senior, an age gap that often resulted in an argument over which one of you was the accident. An argument which usually ended with an agreement that in all likelihood you both were. Every summer from before you were born to the time they left for the military the two boys were a constant presence in your life. Hell, even after he left you’d watched him grow as he passed through your household over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. One thing was for sure, if Parker was there Satiago Garcia wasn't far behind. He was also there the day you received the news that your brother had gone MIA and he was by your side at the funeral, as you watched the commanding officer hand your mother the flag your brother had died for. After the funeral, life continued to move on around you as did everyone else. You always found it funny how quickly you were supposed to recover from loss, apparently a week was long enough to get over it. At least according to the university and your employers who had started calling with empty condolences that quickly led to the real reason they were calling. Always wanting to know when you’d be coming back. After your brother's passing, Santiago took over his role of big brother to you. He read over your med school applications, scared off potential boyfriends and got all the embarrassing video footage of you at your graduations. He was a permanent fixture in your life, one you hoped you’d never lose. Even now as he continued to blow up your phone in an attempt to sway you from driving up alone, you were thankful for him. Over the past 5 days he sent you lengthy lectures in the form of voice messages and a slew of articles detailing the statistics of winter related accidents. His name pops up on your screen as does a picture you’d taken one night after he'd passed out drunk and you’d stuffed cheetos up his nostrils, an act he has yet to forgive you for. You contemplate ignoring the call, but knowing you were about to go radio silent for the next 8 hours you decide to pick it up.

"Hey Santi what’s up?" you ask, as you half heartedly spread cream cheese onto a poorly toasted bagel.

"Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?” Even over the phone you could hear the layers of charm he was currently plastering on.

"What do you want?" you say, tossing the knife into the sink.

"Hey! Who says..." he starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Santi I've known you long enough to know your ‘please I need something’ tone by heart" you laugh.

"Okay well I still value you, but ya I absolutely need a favour" Santiago admits.

"Shoot." you say taking a bite of the bagel.

"I need you to pick up a friend of mine, his flight got cancelled. He's in Chicago at the moment, can you drive him down to the wedding?"

"Ughhh are you kidding me Santi? I’m just about to leave" you say through a half chewed mouthful.

"Please! He’s a great guy, Gen wants him at the wedding, he was in basic with us, so a frequent visitor to the hospital. He's usually pretty quiet so you won’t have to spend that much time making small talk, which I know you hate." He pleaded. For anyone else a last minute change like this would have gotten a laugh, and nothing more, but this was Garcia, and you knew he’d do anything for you, so you’d do this for him.

“Fine” you begrudgingly agree “text me his number, I'm heading out in 40 minutes so he'll have to wait at the airport for a bit" you say, finishing your breakfast.

"You’re a godsend! Seriously, what would I do without you?" He chuckles.

"Nothing good i'm sure, besides I figure I probably owe you like, 1000 favours after you

know....'' the phone goes quiet. Five years later and it still stung like it was yesterday, for you both. He was your family, but he was Santiago’s best friend, you knew the loss was equally as devastating for him. You also knew he'd been having a particularly hard time recently, after what he termed a mission gone wrong a few years back. Every time you'd ask about it he’d shut you down harshly refusing to share any details with you.

"You don’t owe me anything. We're family. Thank you for driving him. I owe you a drink at the wedding!" He responds, back to his chipper self. If it wasn’t for the silence he may just have convinced you that he really was doing fine. You toss the phone on the counter and rub your temples mentally rearranging your entire itinerary for the day. You'd already rifled through the gym bag that was constraining way more clothes than you’d need for the week. Everything you needed was there from bathing suits to your wedding outfit to the special lingerie you’d packed in case you ran into an old flame. If by in case you meant, for when you ran into him. You don’t know how but he’d gotten invited to the wedding reception. Stella hated the guy, so it must have been through Genevieve who likely would have felt bad excluding him, even if he was only a friend of a friend.

You’d met Jonathan in your undergrad and you had been together throughout various points in your life, though never in any official sense. He’d made that evidently clear to you at any opportunity he got. He kept you on a short leash, a retainer if you will. Only coming to you between relationships with women that he deemed worthy enough to be his girlfriends. You knew it was toxic, and your friends constant reminders of how unhealthy it was didn’t fall on deaf ears. The way he would use you and lose you always ended with you being an unstable and emotional wreck, only solidifying his claims of you being crazy. You hated it, the way he made you feel so small, but he held this strange power over you. A power not even you could explain. His redeeming qualities could only be found in the bedroom, he was the best you’d ever had, so you forgave his shitty personality. Always gravitating back towards him, restarting the cycle. You knew what it meant to do the same activity over and over expecting different results, but this was different. At least that's what you told yourself, as you’d traced your hands over the lingeries lace that morning, knowing it was bought for a man who would never appreciate it.

Brushing all thought of him aside for the time being you grab the duffle off the floor and sling it over your shoulder. Walking out into the cold February air you watch as your breath transforms into a small cloud in front. Your chest hurts and nose hairs freeze as you inhale, tossing your bag into the back seat before leaning into the car and starting it up. The engine sputters for a moment before breaking out into a loud rumble, maybe it was a good thing someone else would be in the car with you after all. You jog back inside to your townhouse and grab the cooler where you’d stored the snacks and sandwiches you’d prepared for the road, now realizing it likely wouldn’t be enough to feed two people. Tossing on your winter jacket you lock the door behind you and slide your sunglasses down over your eyes shielding them from the afternoon sun as you make your way into your car.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You pull up to the departure gate still cursing at the idiot who had almost smashed into you while they were going the wrong way down a one way street. You hated driving in the city and you couldn’t wait to get out on the open road, even if it was going to be with a total stranger. You find yourself second guessing your decision to drive down state with someone you’d never met. In all reality, even if Santi was vouching for him, he could be a serial killer, plenty of people had nice things to say about Ted Bundy before he got caught.

You shake off the nervous feeling taking over your body, deciding to put your faith in your friends judgment, at least for now. Worse comes to worse you had a pocket knife stowed within reach. As long as he didn’t complain about any playlists or podcasts and understood your need for complete silence from time to time, you’d get on just fine. Besides it was only a 13 hour drive, and you could put up with anything for 13 hours.

You open up your phone and pull up the conversation you and Santiago had been having, scrolling up until you see the contact he’d sent you which read “ Catfish”. You click on it hoping to get the guys real name as a result but no luck, you should have asked Garcia for more information about this “Catfish” guy. You click on the number opting to call, not wanting to waste time wondering if he’d gotten the text you’d sent. The phone rings a few times before you hear someone pick up.

"Catfish?" you say, less confident in yourself than you had been dialing.

"In the flesh, who's this?" the deep voice responds.

"Your ride, Santiago’s friend" you offer, hoping that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

"Oh shit ya, Pope told me you’d be later than you said. I'm still downstairs" he says.

"Of course he did the little shit" you mutter, causing Catfish to laugh "Im outside now, departures second floor"

“I'll be out in a second" he says, hanging up the phone before you can say anything else.

You plug your phone back into the aux setting it back to the playlist you’d made last night during another bout of insomnia. You're checking your email to see if anything came up from the hospital when a tap at the window causes you to jump. As you look over you see the man who must be “Catfish” gently tapping on the glass. You unlock the door, popping the trunk as you slide out the driver's seat.

“You can put your bags back here. Fuck!" you exclaim when you trunk won’t open, likely having frozen shut again.

"Here" he says dropping his bag on the salted pavement and heaving up on the trunk freeing it from its icy constraints with a relative ease causing him to smile down at you.

"I loosened it" you say defensively, as he tosses his bag in the back still grinning when he

slams the trunk shut.

"Fransico Morales, though most people just call me Frankie" he says as you sit back down in the driver seat rubbing your hands together to warm them and applying some chapstick.

"Y/N, nice to meet you Frankie, seat warmers are here, use as your leisure. There are snacks in the back, but no touching the phone.” you rattle off.

“Aye aye captain” he responds, saluting you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Santiago was right, Frankie was quiet. He offered you little in conversation or any noise at all really. You’d only heard him laugh maybe twice, once while listening to a podcast episode and then again when Britney Spears made her appearance on your soundtrack. "What? She’s America's sweetheart" you say trying to sound offended, but smiling when you notice his lopsided grin. You’d attempted to open up a dialogue with him a few times, but his one worded responses told you all you needed to know, so you stopped forcing it. It wasn’t a hostile environment, it was more of a comfortable silence one that you usually only found in people you had known for years. The silence gave you an opportunity to study the man’s features, glancing away from the road every now and then to slowly piece together his profile. You had pegged him as attractive the second his face had appeared in your passenger window, but it wasn't until now that the details that made him so could be seen; relatively tall, tanned skin, soft curls, deep brown eyes. Glancing over again you notice a concerned look spread across his face.

"What?" you ask, nervous that you’d creeped him out with your excessive, and not so subtle staring.

"Storms coming our way" he says, nodding up at the darkening sky.

"We’re not supposed to get snow for another week, I checked” you reassure.

"Things change" he says

" Sky’s clear, so we don’t stop for another 3 hours" you say, definitively.

" Your funeral, well mine as well I guess" he chuckles, earning him an icy glare from you.

“It's nothing, trust me” you affirm, confident in your ability to read a weather app.

" No one likes a know-it-all" he mutters still grinning.

"Could you help me with something" you ask smiling sweetly

"Sure" he responds, eager to help.

"Pull up the map and show me when I asked for your opinion"

"Eyes on the road” he says, causing your grip to tighten around the wheel.

Well crow wasn’t your favourite food to eat, but here you were eating it. Turns out Frankie was right. A storm was heading your way and it hit hard and fast. You’d managed to make it to a hotel off the freeway just as it came into full effect. What had started as a very pleasant road trip had quickly soured when you refused to apologize for not heading his warning. This paired with the 6 hours you had already driven had left you both irritable so much so that Frankie was now refusing to be any use in respect to figuring out what your next move was going to be.

"Hi" you say to the equally tired looking receptionist. Apparently, every other person travelling through Illinois had also missed the memo about the storm and were now all stuck at the same hotel.

"Hi, so sorry for the wait" she says, forcing a smile in a way that you recognized from your retail days.

"No need to apologize! What are the odds you have any rooms available?" you ask rubbing your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

"Let me check, we have one... suite left on the... fourth floor” she says after a few moments of typing away into the computer.

"Perfect we’ll take it." you say, tapping your credit card to the machine. You walk back over to Frankie who was sitting with the bags and hand him a room key. He exhales deeply, not looking up from his phone as he takes it from you.

"There was only one room left so we’ll have to share" you say.

"Fine," he says, standing up, grabbing his bag and heading over to the elevator not bothering to wait for you. You watch as the elevator doors open and close behind him. Sure maybe it was your fault that you were stuck in this situation, but that was pretty rude. You push your way into the room after struggling with the key for a moment. Frankie must have been eager to get to sleep, or at least eager to not converse with you as he’d wasted no time in unpacking his bag and getting ready for bed. Your eyes move from the clothes on the floor, to the suit hung up in the closet, to the closed bathroom door. You hear the toilet flush and watch the door open as you drop your bag down onto the living room floor, grabbing the toiletries out of your bag's side pocket. You were far too tired to wrestle down to your pyjamas so you opted to stay in the leggings and sports bra you’d been wearing all day. Yes it was gross, but you couldn't be bothered to change at this point. Your eyes follow Frankie as he exits the bathroom in a green cotton t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. You continue to watch as he plugs his phone in and shifts beneath the covers. Guess you were on the floor then. The couch was far too small, and you really weren't trying to break your neck sleeping on its arm rest.

"Pass me a pillow" you huff, as you grab a glass from the nightstand, turning back around to fill it up with water from the sink.

Why?" he asks, watching you take a sip from the overfilled cup.

"So I can sleep on the floor." you state, as if it was obvious.

“No, I’ll do that, you can have the bed" he says shifting up and pushing the blankets off himself. He hadn’t realized you were so averse to sharing a bed with him, but you had just met so he guessed it was fair enough.

"I’m not the one with the bad back old man" you state, the words sounding a lot harsher than you’d intended, but you were younger and thus more likely to recover.

"Fair point, but you’re not sleeping on the floor. Santi wouldn’t allow it. We can put up a pillow barrier between us if that would make you feel more comfortable" he offers, any hostility you had felt from him earlier now turned to tenderness. In all honesty, you hadn’t realized that sharing the bed was an option.

"I need two to sleep with so no point in making a barrier" you say, begrudgingly placing the glass back down on the nightstand "Shift" you say, fanning your hand.

"No" he says looking you dead in the eye "I got here first" he’s grinning slightly, further indicating he’d gotten over his anger from earlier. You could have just walked around to the other side, but for some unknown reason you don’t. Instead, you swing your leg over him pushing yourself up onto the bed, straddling him for the briefest moment before rolling over to the other side.

"Couldn’t have just walked around?" he chuckles

"Couldn’t have just shifted over?" you parrot back, moving onto your back, closing your eyes and dozing off.

#frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #catfish x you #catfish x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #in a week #part 1

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agwitow · 3 years

Text

Alpha Wolves

content warning: swearing, mild violence

Marcus yawned, his jaw cracking, and shook out his pants. It had been a long night, helping two pups with their first change. They were already packed into their parents’ SUVs, fast asleep, and on the way to their homes. In a few months they would be good to join a pack. It wasn’t always as simple with new shifters, but those two each had a parent who was one as well. Even at eight and ten, they knew a fair amount of what it meant to be a lycanthrope.

Dressed in sweats and a light cotton long-sleeved shirt, he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. Full moon changes always made his hair grow. Even though he’d been clean-shaven before the change, he had what felt like two-days of growth now. Shaggy hair didn’t bother him nearly as much as a beard did, though by the end of the three days he’d need to get that trimmed as well.

He padded barefoot into the little cabin that served as his base of operations while helping new shifters and started a pot of coffee brewing. He hated the stuff, but it would be at least a couple hours before he could head home to sleep, so he needed something to keep him awake.

While it percolated, he checked his phone. Three emails from work, two from the pack, and some spam. He’d just opened the first email when the phone rang.

“Porter Consulting.”

“Mr. Porter, it’s Deputy Palerma from the EKSD,” a male with a pleasant tenor said.

East Keddol was a small town several miles from Hapburgh, the city Marcus lived and worked in. It was in the interesting position of being almost perfectly between Hapburgh pack territory and Redview pack territory. Surprisingly few places fell into the odd in-between spaces between packs, and, as far as he knew, no one had developed any specific protocols for dealing with them.

“How can I help you today, Deputy?”

“We have a shifter—twenty-three-year-old male—who attacked his friends when he shifted for the first time. Miss Davidson recommended I call you.”

Kaelyn Davidson did for the Redview pack what Marcus did for the Hapburgh one. She was, if he remembered correctly, also a month or two out from giving birth. Handling an adult shifter who’d already hurt people was probably not high on her list of ways to spend her time.

“I see. Is your new shifter awake?”

“No. We had to hit him with a tranq to be able to bring him in. He’s changed back, but hasn’t woken up yet.”

Marcus snorted. Safety Departments were, mostly, better than the old police system, but sometimes they were still a little too trigger happy. At least it was a tranquilizer dart instead of a clip of bullets. “I’ll send someone to pick him up. He’s going to wake up before they get there, and he’s going to be cranky and hungry.”

“I’ve taken the class on shifters, Mr. Porter,” Deputy Palerma said, sounding offended. “There is a post-shift recovery kit in the fridge.”

He stifled a sighed. “If that’s all you have, that’s fine, but it would be better if the new shifter could get freshly made food. Eggs, nuts, oats, cottage cheese or Greek yogurt, and pumpkin seeds are best. Avoid meat, if possible, especially red meat.”

“I thought shifters need protein the morning after?”

“We do, and the foods I listed are all high protein items. New shifters can find meats to be… an issue at first. As I’m not able to speak with your young man at present, it’s better to be cautious.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Palerma said, “Alright. Who will be coming, and when should we expect them?”

“It’ll depend on who is free.”

“Can’t you just tell someone to do it? You’re the alpha, aren’t you?”

Marcus had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. That damn study from the 40s. “That’s not quite how things work. All pack members have proper ID.”

“Fine,” he said, the word ending with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Thank you. Someone will be there between 10:30 and noon.”

Once they’d said their farewells, Marcus sent out a quick message through the pack’s group chat.

New shifter, East Keddol holding, possible alpha complex. Any takers?

He set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar to make it mostly palatable, before settling on a stool at the tiny kitchen’s bar-height table. He’d drunk half the cup before a chime indicated he’d gotten a response. Two more chimes rang out before he’d picked the phone back up.

Eddie: I’m free but never handled an alpha complex b4 wdin2k?

Ksenia: lol take a muzzle

Julianne: y can’t the Reds take em?

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and replied: Kaelyn’s 8 mo. Pregnant. Take the green SUV, put him in the back, and keep the divider up.

Eddie: is it that dangerous?

Thomas: alpha-complexers are just assholes

Julianne: TOM! There are CHILDREN in this chat

Thomas: no regrets!

Marcus temporarily turned notifications off for the group chat, replied to the most important of the work emails, set up reminders for the other two, then headed for the cabin’s futon. By the time he’d make it to his apartment in the city, he’d barely have any time to sleep before he’d need to head back out to meet the new shifter. So he’d nap on the futon and feel stiff for most of the afternoon.

A little after 2pm, the rumbling and crunch of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the cabin announced the arrival of Eddie and the new shifter. Marcus set aside his laptop and headed out to the porch to greet them. He was still barefoot and wearing sweats and the long-sleeved shirt, but he’d run a trimmer through the beard so he felt less like a back-woods mountain man.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before the back door opened and a young man stepped out with a glower. He was around average height, with enough muscle mass to indicate he worked out at least somewhat regularly. Dark blond hair hung to his shoulders and a thick beard wrapped his jaw—though whether that was a stylistic choice or the moon driven change accelerating his hair growth even more than it did for Marcus was unclear.

“You Marcus?” the young man demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and leaned against one of the porch supports. “I am. And you are?”

“Joseph.”

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Eddie, who’d stepped around to the front of the SUV. “How was the drive?”

Eddie shrugged, his gaze darting to Joseph and then away. “S’okay. Wouldn’t want to do it again, though.”

“Don’t blame you. Thanks for doing it, though. See you next week for a run, okay?”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Of course. Later, Marcus.”

Joseph scoffed. “Like he would be any good.”

Marcus shook his head and stepped down off the porch. He was a little shorter than the new shifter, though broader in the shoulders and with more muscle mass. “You will respect each and every member of our pack, or you’ll be sent to Palstead Institution. It is not a pleasant introduction to being a shifter.”

“Whatever, man. Just give me whatever stupid speech you’ve got so I can challenge you.”

“There will be no ‘challenging’ here.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t no submissive bitch.”

“What you do or don’t do in the bedroom has no relevance to this situation.”

Red flooded Joseph’s face a moment before he took a swing at Marcus. He’d obviously had a little bit of training, but the movement was still too big to be truly effective.

Marcus side-stepped and twisted a little so that he had more leverage as he placed a palm against Joseph’s arm and pushed. It wasn’t a big push, but the kid had overextended himself and it knocked him off balance enough to make him stumble. He took a step back and waited for the next attack he knew would be coming.

Joseph didn’t disappoint. He came up swinging wildly, rushing toward him as if he couldn’t decide whether to beat his face in or tackle him to the ground.

Marcus calmly deflected each blow, leading Joseph in a circle as he side-stepped and backed away from the attacks. Less than a minute later, Jospeh was panting and struggling to even come close to landing any blows.

“Have you finished with your temper tantrum, yet?” Marcus asked.

Joseph glared at him but stopped, bending over with hands on knees as he panted.

“You seem to be under the misunderstanding that pack members fight each other. Different packs rarely even fight each other.”

“How…how do you know who’s alpha, then?”

“There is no ‘alpha.’ Not the way you’re thinking, anyway.”

“What?”

Marcus sighed and took a seat on the ground. The grass was soft and, thanks to a sunny morning, contained no hint of dampness. After a moment’s hesitation, Joseph slumped down as well. “Pack is family. Would you pick a fight with your dad to try and take over the family?”

“No…”

He shrugged. “Picking a fight with a pack member makes about as much sense. We each have a role to play, and that role is based on our skills and personality and knowledge. Not on who we’re able to beat up.”

“Aren’t we wolves? At least partly?”

“Yes. And that’s how wolves behave.”

Joseph stared at him blankly.

He sighed again. “Come inside. I’ll make you a tuna sandwich and you can read one of the brochures.”

Joseph followed him inside, silent, but with a simmering edge of anger beneath his exhaustion. Once the full moon was over and the forced changes weren’t sapping his energy, he would be a real pain in the ass if Marcus couldn’t nip the problem in the bud.

“Here,” he said, picking up a glossy tri-fold and handing it over. “Have a seat. Read. I’ll make the sandwiches.”

He settled onto a stool, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. “Why Alpha-Dog Theory is BS,” he read. “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Marcus replied. “Some of the pack wanted to title it It’s Not Your Inner Wolf, You’re Just an Asshole, but that seemed a bit confrontational.”

“… Oh.”

“Mhm.”

(Moon-Bound - part 2)

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generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine vi

Thursday: ~ 9.2k words

previous chapters: i // ii // iii // iv // v

an: writing this was tough on me. I’ve obviously been through a lot of ups and downs while trying to write this, considering it took like 4 months to finish. Continuously losing inspiration and motivation and hitting writer’s block too many times was tough. The chapters keep getting longer and I feel like there are less and less notes everytime. It hurts to see my favorite fic do so poorly, so I've been hesitating to post this. But it’s finally here, and there are only 2 chapters left. Now, let’s see how few notes this gets. Thank you to my beautiful amazing editor/bestie @folkloreflyers I couldn't have done this without you bb 🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

tagging some beautiful people: @sunflowertimothee @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation

summary: after everything that happened last night, Mat and Y/N realize they probably need some time apart to regroup with their thoughts and emotions and prevent themselves from pushing the boundaries of their friendship so far that they’d never return to normal. It’s 2019, eleven years after you first befriended him, and things are definitely different this time around...

If there was ever a time when you wanted to slip away into the memory of what you once had with Mathew: an amazing friendship, not overshadowed or blurred by stupid hormones and growing feelings, it was now.

It was almost tragic to think about how you’d lost all that time and could never go back to the days when you were completely carefree and nothing could bring you down. Those hot, summer days with Mat when watermelon juice and sticky, sugary ice pops dripped down your hands, and your faces were burnt in the sun were long gone. You’d never be like that again. No matter how often you dreamt of it, thought of it, and buried yourself in memories of that summer to block out the worries of adult life, you couldn’t get it back.

The sun was going down on your second to last night at the beach, as you sat by Mat in the sand, giggling as the water lapped at your toes and digging up handfuls of the tiny coquina clams burrowing in the sand- not that you knew what they were called, but did it matter? Your parents sat further back onshore, talking around a fire and watching the younger children, and you and Mat, like always, were left to entertain yourselves. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. No, you loved spending time with him.

You didn’t realize that your time with Mat was coming to an end. You weren’t sure what day of the week it was, where you were, or when you were leaving, but that didn’t matter. Not then.

“Are you having fun with Mat?” Your mom had asked you earlier in the day.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend!”

“Well,” Your mom laughed. “Why don’t you go have some more fun with him. Cherish your time, we won't be here forever.”

You didn't quite understand the weight of her words, but cherish him, you did. The two of you were attached at the hip, to both your parent's amusement, and after only a week of friendship now, your parents could hardly separate you two.

“Ugh, younger siblings are so annoying." You groaned in agreement to Mat's statement and fell back in the sand when you looked back and saw your baby siblings sucking up all your parents’ attention.

"Yeah, 'cause they're smaller and cuter than us."

"No, that's not true!” Mat shook his head, dark hair flopping around in the breeze, hazel eyes wide. “You're still pretty cute."

"Ewwww, Mat!"

"So am I, my nonna told me!" You laughed at him. Only a week into knowing each other and he could already make you laugh better than any of your friends at school. "So that's not it."

"Well, they always have all the attention. I'm so bored and lonely sometimes."

"Nuh-uh, you have me. I'm always here to hang out!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his small, sand-covered arms, and neither of you noticed both of your parents watching from the campfire. As wise as they were, they knew that if you had been a few years older, this would’ve been too much for them to handle. And little did you and Mat know, at only ten and eleven years old, but you were about to be separated for eleven years.

“Friends forever?”

“Forever! I’ll always be here!”

“Promise?” You stuck out your pinky, and Mat linked it happily with his own, smiling that gleaming smile.

“Promise.”

You had fucked up something amazing.

You woke up early with a pounding headache right as the sun began to beam in through your window, hitting your face in the worst possible way. You’d never so hated the sound of the ocean, but right now, it was just… too much. Too loud. For the first time since you had arrived at the beach, you didn’t wake up smiling and excited to be here, but instead dizzy and confused, questioning what had happened last night, and filled with dread at the thought of having to face the day. And, when you realized what you’d done in your drunken stupor, regret immediately began gnawing away at your mind.

You had fucked up bad.

You buried your face under your pillows to try and drown out the pounding noises in your ears as the image of yourself flooded to your brain, absolutely wasted and stumbling, pushing your body into his, pushing your mouth onto Mat’s and kissing him. It was drunken, messy, and definitely not the way you'd imagined many, many times, your first kiss with him to be. It wasn't magical and beautiful and gentle and sweet, but drunk and sloppy and one-sided. Unreciprocated. You couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. He hadn’t kissed you back, his hands didn’t cup your face gently and pull you flush against his warm body the way you imagined, but instead pushed you away and held you between his arms and looked at you. He hadn’t even smiled or laughed and brushed it off afterward. He must have been disgusted with your actions, he must have wanted to yell at you, ask “What are you doing?” but understood that you were drunk and settled for pushing you away. He'd confront you today, tell you that he couldn't look at you the same way after what happened, tell you that he no longer wanted to be friends. That when you’d get back to New York, you would never speak to each other again.

Fuck.

“(YN)!” The pounding on your door made you cringe and groan. Well, it might not have been pounding, but it certainly sounded like it, as your head throbbed in agitation. “Wake up honey!”

You groaned and rolled over in bed.

She cracked the door open as quietly as possible, showing a little bit of sympathy, which you were thankful for. “Hungover?” Your groan was enough of a response for her. “You’re not gonna get better lying in here, come out.” When you still didn’t answer, she continued. “I’ll be louder next time I have to come in to get you.” And then she left you to drag yourself out of your lethargic state.

Well, fuck, you thought as you cast a glance out the window where the sun was rising over the ocean, might as well get up and face the day, no point in hiding. You needed to get some fresh air, maybe some alone time on the beach before Mat gets up. You needed to talk to someone about what happened, you couldn’t keep this to yourself, but who would you tell? Not your mom, no one in your family actually. Sure, you were close, but you weren’t gonna tell them about your drunken mistake- how you kissed your best friend. Best friend. Your best friend- all the way back in New York City, who always helped get you out there, was the reason you ever reconnected with Mat in the first place, and would definitely be your maid of honor in the future- would definitely want to know about your kiss with Mat Barzal.

“Amy…”

You reached over to the bedside table for your phone and the first thing you noticed, after pressing the power button, was an unread text from none other than Mat Barzal, sent at 1:38 am, probably when you got home last night:

Maty: Hope you don’t feel too bad when you wake up.

It was strange, it was unlike him to leave such a message. Yeah, he always checked in and texted you saying he hopes you’re feeling good, but there was no “sleep tight” or anything funny or cute and not even a smiley emoji like usual. Well, in his defense, you had just kissed him. Of course, he’d feel weird around you.

You sent a quick text to Amy, who you hadn’t spoken to since the beginning of the trip now, and who must have been dying to know anything that happened between you and Mat. She would probably be happy you kissed him, bless her heart, she was in love with your friendship with Mat and the story of how you came to meet, but you needed someone to listen seriously to your problem and help you.

It’d be at least another hour until Mat gets up, you guessed, so, with much hesitation, you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom where you steadied yourself on the sink as your head spun, washed your face, and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, running a hand through your hair to smooth it down before opening your door to face the day.

The first thing you noticed, even in your state, was the smell of coffee and breakfast from the kitchen. Usually, you loved that scent, but today it made you want to puke, and as you sat down at the island in the kitchen, you dropped your head into your arms and groaned.

“Rough night?”

“Pretty bad.”

The sound of a water bottle being set down in front of you was much louder than it should’ve been. “Drink, it’ll make you feel better.” You took a sip of water and laid down on your arms again, going back to suffering in silence and wracking your head over trying to figure out any possible way out of this sticky situation. “What else is wrong?” You looked up to where your mom was making knowing eyes in your direction. You were close to your mom, sure, you thought you had a pretty good relationship with her, but you were positive you didn’t want to tell her what you had done last night. At least, not now. You knew the news would eventually get to your dad, and you couldn’t imagine what would happen if he found out.

Hopefully staying pretty ambiguous would save you. “I think Mat’s mad at me.”

“I doubt it. The boy adores you.” You wanted to tell her no, that’s gross, you’re only friends, but something made you stop. Mat did adore you. He was always there for you, he was the greatest friend ever, and how do you repay him? By kissing him and screwing up both of your feelings? “What makes you think he’s mad?”

“I think I did something stupid last night. Said something dumb when I was drunk. And he sent me a text before bed last night that didn't sound like how he usually does.”

“Well, you won’t know until you talk to him. It won’t be any good to ignore him for the rest of the trip” Fuck, why did her advice have to be good words of wisdom?

A door rattled open from down the hall and there was Mat, rubbing his face, his hair falling into his eyes, as he crossed the hallway into the bathroom. He cast a glance to the kitchen, locking eyes with you for half a second before he was gone.

You knew he’d be getting up now, so, grabbing your water bottle and phone, you made your way to the back door to avoid any alone time with him. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” And you headed out the back door and down onto the beach.

Amy had texted you back by now, telling you to call her right away, and you took the moment to reflect, walking down to the water’s edge and just looking out. The early morning heat was cooling down, the sun had barely risen and already dark clouds were rolling in from the horizon, the rain was coming, maybe even a storm in the next hour or so. Sure, you may have made your friendship awkward, but for now, you’re still friends. At least until he comes out to confront you. So until then, you were gonna be proud. You had kissed him. His lips were just as soft and nice as you expected them to be, and his face pressed against yours was something you could get used to. Unfortunately, that scenario was unlikely.

Your heart raced when you started connecting the video call, and you couldn’t help a smile from spreading over your face for the first time all morning. Yesterday, besides the mistake you’d made, was easily one of the best days of your life. Mat took you out to the pier because he remembered you loved it when you were younger, he remembered he promised to teach you to skate, he even remembered your favorite ice cream flavor. And, despite how much you regretted kissing him, you had kissed him. You had kissed Mat. God, Amy is gonna be fucking ecstatic for you.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Ames, I’m sorry for not calling sooner-”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, always a welcome sound, and you knew she wasn’t upset. “You’re on vacation with Mat fucking Barzal. But now that I have you for a few minutes, girl, spill. All. The. Details. Now.”

“Yeah,” You laughed at her words. All the details? “He took me out to the pier yesterday for my birthday. We roller-skated together and held hands.”

“Oh my god, seriously? That’s so fucking cute!” You winced at the way she shrieked in joy for you, your head still pounding as you tried to overcome the hangover. Amy immediately noticed your change and lowered her voice. “Girl, are you hungover?”

“You tell me. I’m twenty-one now, aren’t I?” Before she could start talking again, you continued, figuring it would be easier to just get all your words out there and over with. Rip off the bandaid. “Actually, I did something really bad last night. When I was drunk.”

“Oh shit. Spill!”

“I…” You couldn’t help the small smile on your face. As much as you hated the realistic part of this, you were still overjoyed it had happened. You shook your head and pushed on. “I kissed Mat.”

It was almost comical how your friend’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It almost made you laugh, it had a little smile pulling at your face. Holy shit, it was still sinking in that you’d kissed Mat. “Oh… my god. You kissed Mat. You kissed Mat Barzal. How was it?”

“Well, messy. I was drunk, he didn’t kiss back at all. But focus on the realistic part, Ames. I made it awkward.”

“Oooh…”

“How are we gonna be friends after this? He’s gonna hate me, he’s gonna wanna leave, he’s never gonna want to talk to me again. He must think I’m so dumb-”

“Babe, listen, he doesn’t think any of that. He’s head over heels for you. If not in love, then in platonic love at least.”

“Now you’re sounding like my mom.”

“I hate to say it, but I actually agree with her then.” You sighed. As much as you wanted to listen to them, maybe the realistic side of your brain was just too powerful. “Mat has done stupid things around you when he was drunk. Remember the karaoke night? He was so fucking embarrassed in the morning.”

“Yeah, but he never kissed me.” He never kissed you, not once. Not even when you desperately wanted him to, when he was drunk or Christmas Eve, or New Years’, or his birthday, not even when you practically created chances to get close to him, not even when you kissed him. No matter how much you wanted it, life isn’t a love song. “Look, things don’t just work out like in romance novels. Some things don’t get to last beyond one summer. Sometimes this shit just doesn’t happen. Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

“It’s only a feeling ‘til you make it more.”

“Shut uuuup. He hasn’t spoken to me since then. He’s obviously upset.”

“Have you tried to talk with him?”

“I mean…”

“So you haven’t. C’mon, you gotta at least ask him about it.”

“Okay, but if I ask him how he feels he might say he doesn’t want to be friends. If I avoid him completely, he can’t break off the friendship, right?” Before she could respond, you rambled on, maybe to her, maybe just to yourself. Sometimes it’s good to just talk yourself out of something. “We’ve become such good friends in the last year and I really don’t want to lose him because of something stupid that I did while drunk. I feel like I messed everything up.”

“Babe, babe. You didn’t mess anything up.” Ames smiled at you over the phone as thunder rumbled in the distance. “This isn’t gonna drive him away, okay? He’s in too deep already. Trust me.”

“Alright, we’ll see.”

And you would see. But now, you had to go to the porch, already feeling raindrops drip from the looming clouds above. The storm was rolling in. And it was coming fast.

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

Even before Mat’s eyes opened that morning, his mind was racing.

He rolled onto his side in bed, eyeing the pillow he had been hugging against him all night. It was as if he was a child who needed a teddy bear to fall asleep, and he hated how vulnerable you made him feel. But rather, you were his teddy bear and after that night in the motel, he couldn’t sleep without some sort of faux version of you that would never compare. Not to your warmth, your softness, your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sighs of breath against his neck. You had messed him up bad. You had kissed him, and it’s unnecessary to think it needs explaining why he was so confused. “I had a dream about you last night. We were really goin’ at it. You were really good, like, really good.” What had you meant by it? Was it just a dumb mistake? Or is what they say true: “Drunk words are sober thoughts”? The moment your lips touched his last night, he was flooded with serotonin. It was… well, maybe not perfect, but more than he could ever hope for. More than he thought he would ever get.

He wanted it so bad, he wanted it for months now, but he wanted it sober. He wanted you to know what you were doing. He wanted you to mean it. He didn’t want it like last night.

He pushed himself up, hearing the muffled conversation from the kitchen. He knew it was you and your mom, and, though he couldn’t hear any clear words, he couldn’t help but realize that the conversation had to be about him, and for a moment he was strangely self-conscious. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, but he was embarrassed, even ashamed he had let anything happen last night.

He shouldn’t have let you get so drunk.

The moment he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the conversation came to an abrupt stop. He glanced up into the kitchen, where he immediately caught your gaze, noting how much of a wreck you were this morning. He couldn’t help the way he rushed into the bathroom before you could say anything.

He heard you say something about “fresh air” and then the back door opened and closed, he finished up his morning routine and rushed back into his room. He’d barely even sat back down in bed when there was a pounding on his bedroom door that was a lot less than friendly.

“Mathew!”

Your dad was gonna fucking kill him.

It was safe to say he’d never been more afraid as he jumped to his feet and stepped over to the door, debating on pulling out his phone to send a final “Goodbye, I love you” texts to you, his friends, and family. But there didn’t seem to be any time for that, as the pounding on his door increased. Sucking up a deep breath, he opened it and was greeted by the face of your father with crossed arms and a scowl. He could only choke out a terrified “Yes, sir?”, sounding like a pathetic teen boy caught in a girl’s room.

“(Y/N)”s upset.”

"I-"

"I don't know why that is, but something tells me you have something to do with it." Mat went silent, trying to figure out what he could say. You were upset? Were you upset with yourself, or with him? He had stopped your kiss, brought you home, got you water, and tucked you into your bed, what had he done wrong? “She thinks you’re angry at her.”

“Why would I be-?”

“Mathew.” The boy closed his mouth when your father put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him over towards the bed. “Sit.” Mat nodded quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, flattening his hands on his thighs awkwardly and waiting for the lecture to start. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening between the two of you, but I can see how much you mean to her. I know I shouldn’t be too hard on you, but I just need to make sure you’re going to treat her right.” Mat couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face momentarily. He was in the middle of opening his mouth to say thank you when your father rambled on, eyes narrowed, examining the boy in front of him. “(Y/N) has been hurt a lot in the past, and I’ve tried to help. It’s not my place to mess with her love life anymore. She’s not a baby. But the least I can do is make this right. I still remember what you said on our first day here. You like my daughter?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. A lot.”

“Good. So then you didn’t mean to hurt her?”

Mat’s head shook frantically, wracking his brain for what he might’ve done. “Absolutely not. I don’t know why she is, I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“I’ve seen her hurt so many times, and I’m gonna trust that you’ll treat her right. Now, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask. That’s between you two. But she thinks you’re angry, you’re obviously not, and you need to fix it.”

“I know, I promise I will. I’ll make her so happy, I swear to God, I promise you.”

The older man continued to look at his daughter’s friend for a few long, tense seconds, but Mat’s eyes gave everything away with no hesitation. His feelings were genuine, he truly, truly cared. He wasn’t lying. Slowly, he nodded, and Mat’s face lifted in a cautious smile. Was this… approval? Was this your father’s blessing? Your father slapped his hand on Mat’s back. “There’s something else I want to show you. C’mon, Mat.”

-----------

You sat alone on the porch with your little pile of shells, watching the rain pour down beyond the porch, watching the waves continue through the storm, always pushing and pulling despite the circumstances. And as you threaded shell after shell onto your little braided bracelet, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

It was the summer of 2015, you were sitting on the passenger side of his dad’s car, the wind in your hair and OMI's 'Cheerleader' playing on the radio. You had just turned 17 and were trying to live your best life on the coast with your new friends, forgetting about any of your responsibilities and just chilling for this trip. You might have been getting involved in the wrong crowd, but you couldn’t care less. You had your friends, you had your newfound teenage freedom, and, most importantly, you had him.

When you first met him, at the beginning of the summer, he was new to your group of friends. But he immediately seemed to take a liking to you.

“You’re different.” He would whisper in your ear as you sat around the campfire with your friends before breaking away from the group to go make out by the cliffs. “There’s just something about you.” He would say as his hands glided over your swimsuit under the water, hidden from your other friends eyes. He knew just the right words to say to have you sinking into him, giving in, And you were stupid to follow him.

In the back of your head, this party was a stupid idea, but it was summer, you were young, he was hot, you had to live your life. What was the worst that could happen?

Kyle was behind the wheel of his dad’s car- maybe he had taken it without his permission, maybe not, who knows?- his beachy blonde waves blowing in the breeze and his blue eyes sparkling behind dark sunglasses. His hand was on your thigh, he was always touching you in some way, but what you didn’t know was that you weren’t his only girl for the summer. He wasn’t trying to hide it, all the signs were there, but you were too carefree to notice.

The car came to a stop and you both jumped out, locking arms around each other before running over to the steamy, crowded party atmosphere.

Really, what was the worst that could happen?

You were sitting there lamenting over your past, nursing a cup of coffee and staring out into the thunder and rain, fidgeting with the object closed in your fist when the door opened down the porch. And when you looked up, of course, you were met by the man himself, wearing a lightweight gray hoodie, the hood pulled up over his dark waves of hair. “Hey Y/N.”

“Mat.”

There was a moment of silence, perhaps for your damaged friendship or perhaps for the growing feelings that neither of you believed were reciprocated, as you both stayed in place, not knowing what to do or say to the right things to make it better. You let the silence, the tension settle uncomfortably between the two of you as the rain pounded as heavily as your hearts. Mat stayed in place where he was standing at the doorway, not wanting to come any closer. Whether it was because he was upset and grossed out or something else, you couldn’t tell, but you needed the silence to end. “Mat, I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean- I was just, I was drunk and I couldn’t think straight-”

“Hey, hey. No big deal.”

“No, it was so uncalled for, I-”

“Hey, (Y/N), I’ve had people kiss me while drunk before.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but something was missing. Something genuine. That sparkle was missing from his eye and the sunshine was missing from his smile.. Something had definitely changed. Something definitely wouldn’t go back to normal. “Seriously. It’s nothing.” He swore. Cross his heart. Something was definitely wrong, but you weren’t going to bring it up. If he was alright with moving past this, so were you. “You don’t have to feel bad at all.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Friends?” He stuck out his pinky for you.

You smiled at the gesture that threw you back to your childhood and accepted it happily, despite the twinge of guilt and fear in your chest. “Yeah, friends.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Mat smiled, taking a seat next to you, pretending everything was normal. “I like being friends with you.” He was shouting at himself in his head, this is so fake, so forced. But he would rather force the comfort than not have you in his life at all. And then the silence was back.

The silence was painful, filled with unspoken words- words you could never say aloud- and both of you knew. You weren’t sure if the rain was picking up or it had just become so overwhelming between the two of you that you were hyper fixating on the patter patter patter of raindrops against the porch roof. Friends. Friends. If this is what it's like to be Mat's friend, you could only wonder what it would be like to have him as your own, to be his, to hug him and kiss him and protect him and have him do the same to you.

“I, uhhh.” You glanced over to see Mat’s eyes already dead set on you, and you wondered if he had been staring the whole time. You were almost shy as you opened your fist to him. “I finished it.”

“Woah.”

"Yeah, you like it?"

“I love it.” Mat took the bracelet with delicate fingers, as if afraid he was going to break it, and slid it onto his wrist gently. A perfect fit. "It's amazing. You're really talented. Seriously. " His eyes were unbelievably soft as he gazed at the pretty shells you had worked so hard to braid together for him. All for him, from you. “I’ll never take it off.”

"Oh, never?"

"I'm dead serious."

Your heart throbbed in your chest. The idea of him wearing this bracelet you had worked so hard on, even when plagued by the thought that maybe he wouldn't want to be friends at all anymore, just had you so overwhelmed. The idea of him wearing something you made for him, something so personal, as if it was there to constantly remind him of this summer, of you. Like it was a cute inside joke no one else would ever understand, made your heart ache. It was as if you were claiming him, as if he was claiming you as one of his best friends, one of the few people that got a glimpse into his private life. You were special.

“I’m serious.” He repeated. “Honest. I love it.”

“Thank you, Mat.”

His arm fell heavily but gently across your shoulders as he tucked you closer into his body, and something about the weight of it against you was comforting, a reminder that he was still there no matter what and he would always be there no matter what. Mat was resilient, and no matter how much you wanted to push him away, he was here. He was your friend. Forever, and through anything.

"Hey," Mat broke the silence. "I have something for you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Consider it a late birthday gift."

"Mat, you've already gotten me so much-"

"Ah, ah. Your dad actually found these. I'm just presenting them." Before you had a chance to ask or even wonder what it could be, Mat was pulling some flimsy rectangles from his hoodie pocket.

"Are these...?"

"From that summer." Mat finished with a smile, letting you take them from his hands.

"No way."

There in your hands were photographs your parents took of you and Mat, ten and eleven years old. The two of you were standing close, Mat’s arm around your shoulders and squeezing you into his hug, both of your faces lit up with wide smiles. You were so close that summer and you weren’t sure how your parents dealt with the two of you. That picture captured a moment of childish joy and innocence- grinning brightly in mid laughter as you built your final sandcastle of the summer together. LIttle did you know, back then, but the next morning, you’d be leaving, leaving your summer-long friendship behind.

“Look at us.” Mat’s voice was tender, gentle as he leaned in closer and you fingered through the pictures. “I can’t believe we were so small.”

“I can’t believe you still smile the same, Maty.”

He laughed at the nickname that threw him back to that first summer. He quieted down for a few moments as you flipped through the rest of the pictures, his fingers drumming softly on your arm. “I still can’t believe we found each other.”

“I know.”

You could hear your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage as Mat leaned in closer to look at the pictures with you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you stopped suddenly as one picture caught your attention- the family picture taken that year, with both your family and the Barzals posing together as friends. But what really stuck out to you was the way Mat’s face was pressed up against your cheek, in the most innocent, childish kiss you’ve ever seen.

“Wow, look at that.” Mat chuckled a bit through his words, his eyes soft behind you. He didn’t remember kissing you at eleven years old, but seeing that picture brought sparks to his veins and had memories flooding back to his mind. It was you. You hadn’t just been his first crush, but his first kiss as well. “We’ve come pretty far, eh?” Your silence was almost painful to him, and he couldn’t help the way his face fell. Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, oh god oh god oh god.

“Yeah, we have.”

He smiled again as your voice filled his ears.

“Do you remember that place, Mat?” His eyes followed your finger as you traced the rocky cliffs in the background of the photo. Oh, did he remember. The little hidden beach, surrounded on three sides by rocky cliffs and sandy dunes and the little ocean inlet shallow and warm and perfect for swimming in, was a beautiful place that immediately brought back memories. You had first found that place on a family walk, and Mat had dared you to jump off the cliffs into the water with him. Of course you didn’t end up jumping, as neither of your parents let you out of their sight.

“It’s our little hideaway.”

“Yeah.” You sat in silence for a moment, in awe that you had such a private little place with him, and noticed how the rain was slowing down. “When it stops raining, do you want to walk there tonight?”

“Absolutely. As much as I love your family, I’ve been dying to spend some time with my girl again.”

My girl. My girl. My girl. Too much?

But the smile on your face reassured him. “I wanna spend more time with you too, Mat.” You threw your arm around his shoulders in an act you thought was sweet, but regretted it and drew back your arm as soon as he let out a sharp hiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing.”

“You’re sunburnt, aren’t you?”

“No, no, it’s not bad.”

“Mat, I told you you’d get burnt!” He was quiet, red faced, and you weren’t sure if all the red was from the burn or embarrassment. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mathew!”

“I promise.” But you stood up, always just as stubborn as him, photographs in hand, and held your hand out to him. He looked up at you, amused. Oh what you did to him.

“Come on. We’ll fix you up, dummy.”

Mat laughed and shook his head before giving in, his palm sliding into yours and following you obediently back into the house.

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

The rainclouds had finally cleared, though it was too late in the day to get any sunlight in, and instead the vast blanket of stars were already beginning to twinkle overhead when you and Mathew headed out after the family dinner.

“Mat, look at all the stars tonight!”

“You still love them as much as always, yeah?”

“Of course!”

Mat watched you, adoration evident in his eyes, as you gazed up at the sky in awe. He had to agree. There weren’t stars like this in the city, not even in his hometown. This little oceanfront town didn’t produce enough light to block out the beautiful heavens above. But, his eyes were still fixated on you, on the wonder in your eyes and the way you were so soft and amazing in everything you do. The moon could be falling, for all he cared, there could be a literal alien spaceship in front of them, but all he could see was you. “Beautiful.”

“They look best after it storms, I think.”

“Yeah?” Mat could do nothing but nod along, too lost in his own thoughts to find words to say. He hoped he didn’t seem too boring, but walking there, hand in hand with you and feet in the warm sand, his mind couldn’t help but wander. What if you loved me, (Y/N)?

“I think I wanna be a constellation when I die.”

“That’s-” Mat laughed a bit louder than he meant to at your sudden confession, and stumbled to pull himself back together. “That’s a little grim to talk about, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just think stars are so pretty, and I’d just love to be twinkling up there, looking down on people. Plus, I’m more of a night person anyway.” You smiled, and Mat’s heart fluttered in his chest. “What about you? If you were reincarnated as something? Maybe… ice? So you could live and die with hockey like you do right now?”

Mat didn’t even need to think for a second, he knew his answer immediately. Stars, stars, I’d lie in the stars with you, spend all eternity by your side. I’d drop hockey, all the wins and the trophies and the attention. I’d drop it all for you. “Yeah, that’d be pretty cool.”

You walked, hand in hand, down the length of the beach, until you could no longer look back and see your house. Until houses no longer speckled the shore, and instead it was just you, Mat, the ocean and the stars, in your own little world. The shore rose beside you, and after walking around a little bend, you were suddenly hidden away in a little sandy inlet, rocky cliffs surrounding you on three sides, and the ocean, gentle and lapping on the other.

“Here it is.”

“Looks the same as when we were young.” Your hand slipped out of his, just for a moment, to pull out your phone. “Smile, Mat.” His face lit up, not in one of the dazzling smiles you remember and loved so much, but a softer, gentler little smirk.

“Before and after pic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

For a few moments, his eyes gleamed in mischief, and you should’ve known what was coming.

“You know what? You still never jumped off the dock at the fishing spot with me. But I can think of something that would be even more fun.” You were about to ask what, but the smirk on his face as he glanced towards the cliffs and raised a hand to motion towards it should’ve told you that nothing innocent was coming. “Remember that dare?”

“Oh my god.” You laughed at the excited look on his face.

“Let’s jump off that rock.”

“Are you the bad influence my parents always warned me about? Who asks if I’ll jump off a bridge with them?”

He laughed, loud and boisterous and bouncing around the sandy dunes and cliffs that hid you away from the rest of the world. “Maybe I am.” And then he stretched his arms above his head and tossed his shirt to the sand, the muscles of his now bare chest and shoulders shining in the pale moonlight, watching with a giddy smile as you looked him over with an incredulous laugh. He took a few strides back towards the rocks, giving you an enticing smirk and luring you out to him like a siren with his song. “So? You coming in or what?” You should’ve turned back right there; you should’ve recognized the signs and listened to your head rather than your heart, your hormones, and turned back to shore and ran, left him here alone instead of stepping over this boundary- scratch that, fucking barrelling through this boundary like it was a race to finish- but you didn’t. You stayed. Worse yet, you stepped towards him, foolishly, blinded by that goddamn stupid smile.

No, no, you really shouldn’t. But you were so fucked for him, for that smile, for that cocky little “gotcha” laugh that he always did when you followed him so blindly, without any hesitation. You were so in love. Fuck it.

“Unfortunately, Maty, I’d follow you anywhere.”

There was a rocky path leading from the sand up the side of the cliff, a natural staircase, or so it had seemed when you were younger and more imaginative. Mat grabbed your hand to help you up, his palm big and heavy against your own, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you used to make it up here as children.

At the top, your eyes met the most beautiful sight, and, for once, it wasn’t just the man standing next to you. The moon had risen over the ocean, casting its cool glow across miles and miles of water. The water was dark and blue and lapping gently at the pool below you, and the air was still warm, though the rocks beneath your feet were finally cooling off. You both watched in silence for a few moments, taking in all the beauty of the scene before you and forgetting all about his hand in yours.

“It’s certainly a lot smaller than I remember.” It was true, the rock definitely wasn’t as high as you pictured it to be. It was a high cliff, sure, but standing atop it was much less intimidating than facing your feelings for Mat.

“Yeah, well, you were a lot smaller eleven years ago too.”

He snickered, his hand squeezing yours, perhaps subconsciously, or maybe in realization, he’d still been holding it. But he still didn’t let go, and neither did you. His face was warm, not that you’d ever notice, not in the dark. “Well, you’re about the same size.”

“Mat! Not true!”

“Yeah, it is.” He pulled you against his side like he always did in a little half-hug and laughed that beautiful laugh of his. After a few more moments of smiling silence, Mat hummed in thought. “Ya know what? I know what would make this jump a lot more fun.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Skinny dipping.”

Your heart almost stopped when the words passed his lips. You hesitated to respond, laughing a little bit. “No, you’re not serious.”

“Yeah, I mean, no one can see us out here. There are no houses nearby. Only us.” It was tempting, so, so tempting, and Mat could tell you were right on the edge of saying yes. You were. “Listen, I’ll stay far away from you the whole time and I won’t even look at you, I promise. But we’re leaving soon, we'll probably never get another chance at this exact spot, and we’re twenty-one, twenty-two, let’s do something reckless. Let’s be stupid together. Yeah?”

You bit your lip, and Mat would never admit to you how much you turned him on at that moment alone, but he stored that image away for later tonight. You were considering it, but both you and Mat already knew you had made up your mind long ago.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?”

You laughed, the excitement of doing something so scandalous and dangerous and intimate with him finally settling in. Mat smiled back at you, you both laughed and looked at each other with complete reckless abandon. There was nothing else to lose after this. Easily every shred of friendship would be gone. You couldn’t be just friends anymore. “Let’s be reckless.”

“Let’s go, baby!”

“You first, though.” You stepped away from him and motioned towards his shorts, your heart pounding and cheeks hot. The smile on his face should’ve warned you that he wasn’t playing around here, but for some reason, you were still shocked at what he did next.

“Alright, fine.” You could feel a slickness between your thighs as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his shorts and smirked as he shimmied them down, making a great show of swaying his hips and biting his lip, trying and succeeding to be as sexy as possible. And though you jokingly laughed and pleaded for him to stop, the dull ache in your core only worsened when you caught just a glimpse of what lay beneath the fabric, at the end of that V shape in his hips. Your eyes shot up to the sky, your face red hot and shy when he lifted his swim trunks as proof and flung them towards your feet.

“Ew, Mat!”

“Come on, your turn!” Your heart pounded and you couldn’t help the wave of self-consciousness. But Mat’s smile was addictive, and he made you so comfortable, comfortable enough to have you pulling Mat's hoodie over your head, letting it fall by your ankles and leaving you in your bikini.

“Turn around, Mat.”

He raised his hands in surrender and smiled as he turned, and you couldn’t help but glance- for just one second- down at his toned thighs and ass. Wow…. “I know you’re staring, y/n/n.”

“Wha- no!”

“I don’t mind, babe. Look wherever you want. I'm all yours.” And his body shook with laughter as you undid the string of your top and slipped out of your bottoms and tossed the fabric towards his feet. You could see him do a double-take at the sight, as if he didn't believe you were serious about skinny dipping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh, to busy marveling at his physique, the dark swoop of hair he kept running his hand through- a nervous habit you’d recognized as far back as 2008- the muscles of his back and shoulders, the dip at the small of his back, his toned ass, his thighs... He wasn’t even looking at you, but there was something about how you were so bare, so vulnerable, so close to him. Just the idea of his body and yours being so close and so primal, so exposed, and about to take this leap… something was stirring up a fire, a fire you'd put out later. Your fingers slipped down between your thighs momentarily, marveling at how hot Mat made you before they wiped hastily on your thigh and you stored those memories away for later that night. Your other hand curled into Mat’s again, and his fingers squeezed around yours at the contact, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The only thing against his body, besides your own skin, was the bracelet you had put all your love and energy into, all for him, and now you were standing on the edge, taking a final breath. About to jump. About to fall with him as hard as you’d already fallen for him.

“You ready, Maty?”

“I think I should be asking you, pretty girl.”

You hesitated, still a little nervous, trying to build up that excitement. “Countdown?”

“Course. After three. Say it with me?”

“Okay." Your thumb smoothed over his hand, tightening your grip. "Three.”

“Two.” He squeezed back.

“One.”

Mat gave a final, devilish smirk as he whispered “Jump.” and, with one of his iconic howls, your feet were off the ground.

You felt so free, so vulnerable, so exposed, falling naked through the cool air, hands clammy and grasped against each other, shrieking in excitement and adventure. You had bared yourself to Mat, you had stripped yourself of any fears and leaped with him, as if each article of clothing that hit the ground was another shedded insecurity, another forgotten reason for hesitation. You’d pushed the boundaries until they couldn’t go any further, then said “fuck it” and tore the boundary away. There was a brief moment of fear as you hit the cold water, but the moment you resurfaced with a gasp to see Mat’s smiling face, his hair dark and saturated, dripping into his eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh.

You'd done it.

"Wow!"

“Right?”

Your combined laughter filled the little inlet with squeals of glee as you splashed around with Mat. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough that your feet couldn’t touch the bottom, and you instinctively gravitated towards Mat. You moved closer toward him, maybe subconsciously, as if your body craved his more than your mind would ever be able to comprehend. As if you were pulled to him by some force you couldn't control, the same way you'd found each other after 10 years apart, how you'd found yourselves here again, so close, so opened up and bare before each other, even after you'd both thought you'd wrecked any chances. How you had found the sunshine in Mat's smile again, even after the rain.

"Was it worth it?"

"Absolutely!"

The water was cold, goosebumps were popping up along your arms and legs, and across Mat’s as well. And as you drew closer to him and reached out for his wrist, dragging your hand from the bracelt he wore so proudly, up the length of his arm, his hands reached for yours as well, looking for a lifeline as his smooth voice reached your ears.

“You cold?”

You nodded and ran your hands across the tight muscles of his biceps, warm despite the chilly air, and flattening them against his chest before bringing them up, up, up behind his neck to tangle in his dark, wet hair. Your breath hitched in your throat when Mat's hands dipped under the water to your waist, leaving a bit of space between your bodies and honoring his promise from earlier to stay away, but asking permission with his eyes. His big hands squeezing your waist was making your mind spin, and you could barely stutter out a quiet: “You?”

“Nah. Feels fine for me.” He grinned, "But I can help you." He pulled you ever so slightly closer, slowly, slowly, until you were flush with each other, your bodies slick and wet and warm in the cool water, every crevice and curve fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. Mat’s blown eyes traced over your face, from your eyes, down to your lips, and leaned down, pressing his face against your shoulder and pulling you as close as possible, bringing a knee up to prop you against him. He opened his hot mouth along your skin, leaving wet kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. Your chest was pressed flush against his, your nipples poking out hard against his skin, your hands in his wet hair, his big hands engulfing your waist with his touch, his knee inserted between your thighs to keep you against him, floating, weightless, against him. “Let me help?”

And God, how you wanted him to help.

It seemed as if every part of you was touching. Your skin was hot and wet and the sound of the gentle lapping of water against your bodies and on the shore made everything feel like a dream. Even more euphoric, though, was the way Mat's eyes- dark and needy- found yours, in the way you'd always seen in your dreams. The way you'd only seen in your dreams. Until now.

And then, finally, your mouths.

Your mouths collided hot and needy, open and wet and the furthest thing from chaste, wanting to swallow each other up, to ease the aches you had tried to bury so deep in your bodies. You wanted to get so lost in him that you’d never come back, so lost in him that for the rest of time it’d only be you and Mat and the ocean. Weightless, naked, and hot. And he wanted to bury himself in you, hide away from the rest of the world for just this night. He’d been craving it all week. And what he’d been craving was more than sex, it was the affection, the intimacy, the closeness of being with you, entangled with you, so gentle but so needy, giving in completely and finally- finally- letting your hearts take control. His tongue was slippery and warm against yours, and it felt, for a moment, as if this was meant to be.

“I would treat you so much better than he did.” Mat’s mouth was hot and wild and messy against yours, breathing against you and moaning out his confession. “I would be so much better. I’d fucking cherish you.”

“Mathew.”

“Fuck, I’d take such good care of you.”

“Mat, I want you.”

“Fuck,” He groaned against you, rocking his body against yours gently. Your hands burnt his skin wherever you touched, your nails dragging along smooth, wet skin and leaving angry red lines in their wake, dragging down his sides, over his hard abs, right to that one forbidden area. “I want you so bad, baby.”

There were no more words, only hot, aching silence as Mat held you against him. You were slick between your thighs, even under the water you could feel that familiar warmth, the tingling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his face against yours, his nose pressed against your cheek as his lips ravaged yours, his tongue delving into the crevices of your mouth to taste you, to feel every part of you. His hands slid to your ass and pulled you as close as possible, molding your skin against his and gluing you to him with the passion. You could feel his desire, hard and swelling and needy between your bodies, and you wanted him. You wanted him more than anything.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

Mat, always concerned with you before anything else, pulled away, his eyes wide and worried, his hands dropping you back into the water, where you pushed yourself back as fast as you could, trying to catch your breath. “What?”

“We can’t.”

He said nothing else, but nodded and stepped away from you, averting his eyes, his face hot and his head spinning. Fuck, he was still aching. But you took your chance to wade to shore and scramble up the rocks to collect your clothes and hide yourself again. You were shaking, trying to shake away the shame flooding through your body at what you just did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did you have to do that? Why did you do something that stupid? If last night didn’t ruin your friendship, tonight certainly did.

Mat was standing in the sand at the bottom of the cliff, turned away from you, trying to even out his breathing, and you brought his swim trunks down as a courtesy, the least you could do. “Thanks.” His voice was choked up, strained, and he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck before pulling them back on.

The walk home was silent, but not silent in the way that it had been earlier, comfortable and warm. There was no hand-holding, no smiles, no funny small talk. Only pain and heartbreak. Both your minds were struggling to process the last hour. Why had you decided to leave the house tonight? Why did you let yourself take it that far? How could you ruin something so amazing? How many chances would you give each other before giving up and never spoke again?

You almost ran up the porch into the house and to your bedroom, as Mat followed silently behind. Your bedroom door was already locked, you were already hidden beneath the covers, tears in your eyes and hands between your thighs with the thought of Mat paguing your mind, when Mat made it to his, glanced across the hallway at your door, and finally hid himself away.

He wished he didn’t feel this way, he wanted nothing more than to love you as a friend, but the same as every other night, Mat fell asleep with you floating through his mind. Only this time, it was more than your image. It was the smell of you, your burning touch, your sweet taste as your tongue danced against his own, imprinted on his brain, daring him to even try to think of another woman ever again. He bit his tongue as he jerked his desire desperately into his hand, holding back his moans and his cries as he spared one last thought to you before spilling out and letting the tears stream down his hot cheeks.

And he fell asleep, sticky and shameful and, like always, thinking of you.

#mat barzal #smile like sunshine #mat barzal x reader #reader insert #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal fanfiction #fic #op

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imissjoongsmullet · 4 years

Text

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

►

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other.

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.”

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

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kindness-bliss · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 11

Timothy Thatcher x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Tim looked outside as he watched them drive off and rubbed his face and leaned against the wall and watched them all walk towards him. “I know, I know”

“Do you though ? Do you ?” Candice spat out “What in the absolute fuck were you thinking ? What happened ?”

“I just...I couldn’t handle the alcohol, it hit me all at once and then next thing I knew whats her face shoved her tongue down my throat and then...I was the one who initiated it” he admitted quietly “I was the one who took her to the bathroom to…to do that” Tim said not even being able to say the words

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?!” Oney demanded

Tim shook his head as he debated throwing himself in front of a moving car to end his never ending misery “Guys, Candice please” “No, answer us” Johnny said sternly “Before we all take turns beating the absolute shit out of you, granted Maya clearly did a great job as we can tell by your slight limp and broken bruised nose you shit head !”

“Guys !” Tim exclaimed frustrated as he threw his hands down

“So you see her having a good time with us and Marcel so you decide to fuck someone in a bathroom at her own party when you claimed you were heartbroken and wanted her for yourself ? Instead of being a man and pulling her aside you do that ? To Maya, the legit most nicest and genuine person ?” Oney asks

“Oney….” “No I wanna know, I wanna know what it the absolute fuck went through your head when you decided to pull that shit ?” he repeated “This is a girl who liked you, spent 6 months sad over you while you couldn’t even answer a simple text message or call, you acted like a little bitch for 6 months moaning and complaining when you had absolutely no right to. She reached out, she called, left voicemails and sent text messages to you every fucking day for a month straight and you chose not to respond yet you get pissy because you see her enjoy herself with Marcel and all of us, you get jealous seeing her have fun. You’re bitter” he finally says “You’re nothing but a bitter child stuck inside a 38 year old man's body and you don’t deserve Maya. You don’t deserve her kindness nor her love and care because despite her being all lovey with Marcel tonight everyone here can see she wanted you, she craves you and that’s really fucking sad. But I think it’s time we don’t let that happen, it’s time we as her friends don’t let a 25 year old fall for a 38 year old bitter, disrespectful asswipe.” Tim stood there in silence, swallowing the small amount he had left of pride. For Oney whom he had known for years to reprimand him he knew just how deep and bad shit really was. “Yeah stay quiet buck teeth” Johnny muttered as he pushed past him with Candice and Fabian “Chipped teeth...not buck teeth” Fabian corrected quietly as he waited with them for an uber turning back when Johnny, Candice and Oney weren’t looking and giving him the finger ***** “Your place, not mine” Maya whispered meekly “I wanna be with you in your space, not mine” “Anything you want” Marcel said softly as he noticed her holding his hand tightly in hers. This wasn’t in any way what he wanted for them, especially not for her. He felt disgusted as he drove thinking of how broken she must’ve been seeing that. “I just wanna be with you, anywhere with you” she said quietly as she stared out her window “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay” He nodded as he blinked away tears, emotional at hearing her words as he pulled into his apartment building and helped her out She let out a small shaky breath as she held his hand and walked with him towards the elevator taking off Fabian’s suit jacket as she handed it over “You can give this to him when you see him again, it was extremely kind of him” “I will” he said softly as he pressed the button and stood with her with looming silence as the elevator took them up to his apartment “I hate him” she said suddenly “and I’m sorry for everything that I did and said to you while being enamored with him, you didn’t deserve any of that from me”

“Maya, no. Don’t say that, listen things happened tonight and I really think tomorrow you two should talk I can call him over and-”

“No” she answered sternly as she shot him a look full of hurt and anger “It ends here, it dies here. He doesn’t exist to me and that’s that” Marcel simply nodded as he didn’t push the topic any further and walked with her as he opened the door with his key and went to his bedroom to pull out a shirt and sweatpants for her and changed into his usual basketball shorts

“Thanks” she whispered as she stripped down in the bathroom and threw them on immediately taking in his scent and feeling an immense feel of comfort

“You didn’t eat” he said softly “let me get you some cereal at least, you still like lucky charms and almond milk ?” Maya gave a soft grin as she nodded “Yeah...yeah I do, you still remember”

“Of course I do,” Marcel chuckled. “I remember all your likes and dislikes, what shows you love and hate, the fact that you need to sleep on the side by the wall, how you only like your eggs scrambled but never over easy. I remember it all”

She walked over and looked up at him as he caressed his cheek with her hand “You truly never forgot, you remember and you’re always there for me”

“I always will be, no matter what” he whispered as he touched her hand “As much as I’d like to kiss you, I think you should eat and get in bed, you look exhausted as can be. You need proper rest” Maya nodded as she sat at his table and ate the bowl he served in front of her. It softened her seeing Marcel care so much about her and something about this made her see him in a different light. He wasn’t the vain wrestler who was into himself, he was the man she fell in love with 3 years ago who taught everything there was to know about love. “What’s going through your head ?” He asked finally “You can be honest with me, I know you still like him a lot judging by how you reacted tonight” “Marcel...it’s not like that” she explained “It was a shock, that was it. It was just purely shock but just...I don’t wanna talk about it anymore okay ? Can we just stop it please ?” “Absolutely” he nodded as he picked up her plate “Let’s get to bed” She nodded and followed as she laid down and scooted close towards him, going beneath his arm as she snuggled up and looked up at him caressing his cheek with her hand “Hi” he whispered as he gave a soft grin Maya looked in his eyes and sat up as she cradled his face and kissed him deeply “That’s what I wanted to do all night” “I-I…wow” Marcel whispered as he licked his lips “That was just, did-did you just kiss me, is this a dream ?” Maya chuckled as she rolled her eyes “Wow, way to ruin a moment. I’m trying to be romantic over here and do something” “I’m just shocked is all….you like me ? As in like me more than a friend ?” “I do” she admits “I really do, these last 6 months you’ve been there for me in so many ways and you’ve made my life so much better. It’s been hard you know ?” “I do,” Marcel whispered, “But this isn’t exactly how I pictured things working out at all, it’s not how I wanted things to be. I wanted something nice and calm and a bit more romantic” She laughed as she shook her head “Listen life isn’t a fairytale and as much as we’d like to be it’s best just to not expect much and go with the flow. I for one can admit tomorrow I’m probably gonna be hungover and emotional just letting you know ahead “I’ll be here with you” He pet her cheek as he watched her finally drift to sleep “I’ll always be here with you..” **** “Well well if it isn’t my favorite student” Eli grinned as he opened the door into the room at the performance center “You’re bright and early Thatch, love when my worst promo student shows up early to class” he laughed Tim rolled his eyes and sat down “Not today alright ? Just get on with the private class so I can go home already” “Not even a death stare or shove today ? Something really must have you down” He raised a brow as he grabbed a chair and sat in front of him “Tell me” “You haven’t heard ?,” Tim asked surprised. “It’s literally everywhere by now, seriously go check your phone or ask your girlfriend Alli. She has to know” Eli furrowed his brow, taking out his phone and putting it on speaker as he dialed “Baby, hey ! Um have you heard anything about something going down at EVE nightclub in downtown Orlando last night ?” “Oh my god, yes ! So remember Maya ? Maya Dawson ? The girl we met during one of your commercial shoots in LA and had dinner with a few weeks ago ?” Alli asked not even giving him a chance to answer “Well she apparently had a thing with that one loner dude Tim you work with for a hot minute but nothing serious from what I’ve heard, like not instagram official or anything. All she told me was that they made out a few times but nothing too much” Eli nodded as he listened “Oh wow, I didn’t know that. Okay go on….” “So they broke up because she didn’t tell him she was engaged prior to that really cute German dude with the blue eyes who happens to be friends with Tim. Drama ensues, she tells me over brunch he never bothered to respond to anything she sent for 6 whole months and she’s back with Marcel on “friendly terms” well she got that Maxim cover and had a big party last night which we got invited but obviously couldn’t go and well...Tim shows up, gets drunk and fucks none other than Kara Smith in the bathroom of the club ! THE Kara Smith !” Alli exclaimed loudly shaking her head disgusted “NO ! No fucking way ! Um baby, I gotta call you back !” Eli’s eyes widened as he hung up and looked at Tim “You didn’t…. tell me she’s just somehow dramatizing shit” “How the hell does Alli know everything ?” Tim asked “This is weird, this is why I stay away from social media, this isn’t normal” Eli scowled “Jesus christ, you fucked Kara Smith and got away with it. That woman has had it out for Maya for the last year, all because miss bleach blonde can’t stand Maya’s more popular, she’s like 33 having it out against a 25 year old. You literally slept with her worst enemy, how drunk were you ?” “Don’t even remind me” he rubbed his face “I literally am the most hated man in this building, I walked in and immediately it looked like I was gonna get jumped” “And here I thought I was the whore yet I’ve been in a loving relationship for over a year” Eli chuckled “I can’t believe you man, who does that ?” Tim shook his head “I don’t even know how to fix this, or even talk to her” “Don’t” Eli answered “Let her be, this isn’t something women get over fast or ever actually, you’re gonna have to suffer man. And quite frankly you deserve it” He sighed and got up “I’m going home, I don’t feel like being here and quite frankly I don’t wanna hear anymore about how I fucked up” “Since everyone hates you but me just come to my place” he offered “Alli won’t care, plus I’m done here I was just waiting for you to show up” Sure it may have been a pity offer but Tim took it with no hesitation “Alright, I’ll drive behind you” he nodded as they both left **** Maya stirred as she fluttered her eyes open checking her phone for the time, groaning when she saw it was only 8 am , leaning her head back against Marcel's arm as she turned her head and caressed his cheek lightly with her finger tips. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips taking in all his features, his cheek bones, his soft skin, his chiseled jawline, his defined lips. Everything she loved about him standing out to her as she gulped and moved her hand onto his chest as she kissed him once again slightly deeper, looking into his deep blue eyes once they opened “Maya ?” he whispered as he pet her cheek, slightly confused as she had kissed him. Confused she had initiated their physical contact rather than him like it had always been “Hey” she whispered back “I want you….” Maya finally said “I want you now” As soon as she said those words he leaned in and kissed her ,gently flipping them around so she was on her back as he laid above her and kissed down her neck listening to her loud moans. It had been years since they were together, years since they had last had any kind of physical contact like this. Maya groaned as she felt his hand down her sweats at her core “t-take them off” Marcel did as told, watching her as he moved his fingers in circular motions, breathing deeply as she kissed along his jaw and removed his shirt. He took his time as he continued to kiss focusing on her breasts feeling her arch her back slightly “I can’t, please...now” she whimpered “please” “Are you sure ?” “Yes” she nodded “I’ve been been so sure of something before, yes” He kissed her deeply as he guided himself into her and thrusted in slowly, feeling her nails dig into his shoulder blades “Is it okay ?” “Perfect” she nodded as she hands caressed his face “So perfect, I...I had forgotten how good you feel, how this feels” Marcel gave a soft grin as he kissed her once again and picked up the pace, holding one hip with his hand as he found a perfect rhythm not keeping his eyes off of hers She cradled his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips arching her back off the mattress and into his body as far as she could feeling the need getting closer and closer “I’m so close, so fucking close” “Fuck you feel so good” he moaned as he swallowed a deep gulp “Every part of you feels amazing, god I missed you so fucking much Maya, so much” “Marcel...I can’t hold, I can’t” she whimpered as she felt his hot breath in the crook of her neck He pulled out slightly and pushed back in giving a few more hard thrusts as he picked up the pace and felt her walls clench against him “Fuck….” she cried out as she came with him wrapping her arms around neck, riding out what was left of their orgasm with him Marcel collapsed on top of her as he felt her chest rise up and down, her fingers gently playing with his hair

“You okay ?” she asked softly as she lazily kissed his forehead

“I’ve never ever been better” he lifted his chin and looked into her eyes “I haven’t felt like this in a long long time” “Neither have I” she admitted with a smile “Just like old times….”

Marcel blushed at the memories “You mean when we almost got caught by my brother at my mothers house ?”

“And just like that the romance is once again gone” Maya chuckled as she sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover herself

Marcel laughed as he held her hand in his and kissed it “Now, don’t call me cheesy but….will you be my girlfriend...again ?” “After an orgasm like that ? Of course” she joked as she kissed “But honestly, yes. I would love to”

He let out a sigh of relief as he kissed her back “Things are gonna be good, I promise you that”

“No promises” she whispered against his lips “Let’s take it day by day, no pressures no nothing. Just us being together”. She cuddled up against his chest, listening to his heart beat as she dozed back to sleep in his hold ***** “Tim, this is my girlfriend Alli” Eli grinned as he introduced them “Baby, this is Tim”

“I’m loner dude Tim” he said as he offered his hand with a small grin, retracting it when he received a stare back

“You’ll have to excuse her…women sticking together and that whole thing” he whispered lowly as he sat with him “May I offer you something to drink as dinner gets closer to being ready ?” Alli asked “Water, Coffee, tea, soda...a condom” she muttered under her breath “Alli...” Eli looked up at her “Come on, the guy knows he messed up let’s let him not feel like crap for a bit” “I wanna hear it all, all of it. Not one detail left behind” she scowled as she set the table “Come eat” Tim sighed as he got up and sat and told them everything, everything from how to they had met to their first fight, to finding out the truth and to the previous night

“So here I am now, hated by 95% of people at the performance center and with a brand new reputation now so yeah life’s great” Eli turned to Alli who had the same expression he had as they both looked at Tim, Alli being the first to speak as she sipped her wine and let out a deep breath “Tim, do you realize you’re in love ?” “Yeah” he answered quietly, putting his fork down “I do, I realized it last night when I felt myself get angry when I saw her with Marcel enjoying herself. I wasn’t angry because I was jealous or felt possessive, I was angry because she wasn’t with me” Tim admits “because she wasn’t by my side enjoying herself with me and because in that moment it hit me that I majorly messed up. That I was an idiot who let 6 months go by all because I had to be right, I had the need to be in the right when I was in the wrong” “Deep shit” Eli nodded sighing “I just, I just really think you gotta let things cool down for a bit but also send her a text, do what she did to you all those months ago but in your case don’t stop. Do it till you get some kind of response back” “Or maybe not” Alli said softly as she looked at her phone and showed Eli “Oh…” Tim looked up “what ? what happened ?”, he looked as Alii gave Eli a nod and moved his eyes towards her phone. A soft breath escaping his lips as he stared at the image in front of him, a picture of Marcel and Maya’s hands intertwined via his IG account marcel.barthel.wwe “Matching and hand holding with my favorite girl❤️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨”

“Back together I see” Tim nodded “Well that’s perfectly fine, it’s their right” “I’m gonna um load the dish washer” Alli grinned as she got up quickly and left to the kitchen, Eli following shortly behind her “Be right back man” he coughed leaving his phone behind on the table Tim looked around as he picked up the phone and unlocked it easily with Eli’s birthday, sure it was wrong as hell but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He quickly went to the instagram app and looked up Marcel’s profile, shaking his head when he saw everyone comment @candicelerae omg love birds ! I can’t handle the cuteness, double date soon please 😍 @thejohnnygargano what she said👆🏻, also u 2 make me wanna puke (in a good way) @indihartwell my other mom and dad, so cute 💕 @fabian.aichnerwwe so I take it you’re gonna take his gym pics now ? @wwestardestroyer I swear if you guys don’t get a damn room already 🤮🤮🤮 “Jerks” Tim muttered as he put the phone down and crossed his arms. Perhaps this was the end of good things for him, or maybe just this once he’d get out of his own shell and go for it.

#timothy thatcher #timothy thatcher fic #timothy thatcher x oc #timothy thatcher imagine #marcel barthel #marcel barthel fic #marcel barthel imagine #nxt #nxt imagine

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cloveroctobers · 4 years

Text

• ROHAN WASTI•

IG info/bio: @/niceguyroasti | 175k followers | Just here for a bit of fun 🤹🏽‍♂️! They don’t call me the brown handstand king for nuthin, mate 🎪🤸🏽‍♂️

(23) 25 (26) years old

From Wolverhampton, England

Before you ask...no he’s never met Liam Payne but Rohan’s sure he’s a great lad. (He was asked this question in one of his lives, he secretly thinks it was talia from one of her secret burner stan accounts lol) He’s got a nice tune with a boogie w da hoodie that he likes??

Anyways...he’s of Pakistani heritage

His mother used to work for a printing press company until she along with 15 other employees were laid off back in Sargodha

She was out of work for months becoming a stay at home mom (which his father initially wanted)

While his father continued in ironwork

They uprooted their family to the uk two years later after Rohan’s father also got laid off

Rohan was about 7 years old when they moved to Wolverhampton

he picked up on the English language faster than his parents

Always a quick learner

He has two younger brothers

Who are really his cousins/friends of the family that his parents brought home from Pakistan after their parents passed in a tragic accident

he was eleven years old when he met them at the airport and was super excited to have sibs! & even encouraged his mom to let him buy them something they would like sort of like a ice breaker which they seemed to appreciate 😭

His parents wanted him to major in software engineering or any form of engineering really but that quickly became a “hell no” vs “hell yeah” after those courses started to rot his brain?

So what does he do? He decides he’s gonna major in psychology instead!

That seems more of his speed? Kinda? As long as he’s not dealing with that hardware shit then that’s cool with him tbh

Psych held more of his interest since he doesn’t have a issue with the whole science aspect tied into it but it’s deff lengthy and can be draining sometimes too

He doesn’t psychoanalyze everything like our girl marisol does

marisol will be like “hmm...you’re distributing narcissistic behavior based on your superego more than your ego ya know?”

but Rohan will either think it or think nothing of it and just continue to go with the flow lol. He’s that kinda guy

Why was he majoring in this in the first place? Just to say he had the degree in something maybe?

He’s 50/50 thinking he’ll just get the degree he’s halfway there but he really wants to be part of the circus

And now has circus themed tatts that he’s proud of thank u

Always had the obsession with all that comes with the circus, he had his paternal grandfather to thank for that

His grandfather used to juggle along with other forms of entertainment but mostly juggling on the street back in Pakistan to earn $ since there were a lack of jobs

The atmosphere there also was what got him into doing handstands cause why tf not

You can absolutely guess that the acrobats, trapeze acts, and tightrope entertainers are his favorites to watch

His parents just assumed it was a hobby of his and never took him serious even tho he openly said growing up that’s something he would like to do in life

He now understands the purpose of “freak shows” even tho he can honestly say those parts of the circus used to terrify him until he learned that not everyone is the same and there should be no shame in that

He will train on the side until he finishes his degree to make his parents happy but he knows he truly belongs in the circus and that’s where he will be someday whether his parents approve or not— after all this is his life

Lives on campus and is currently looking for a flat off campus to share with a roommate or two (he thought about asking jake & Tim but decided against it FOR NOW)

Mostly had temporary and odd jobs to get by each semester, has not had a steady job due to fully being a full-time student

He’s tried to be a full time student and full time employee (working as a package delivery man) just to burn himself out and never attempted to be a part time employee. It was not something he could handle sorry

His mother spoils him...he’s a bit of a mama’s boy

When it comes to relationships, it never seems to be what he thinks it is? One moment things are going great then the next he’s in the friend zone so he’s never quite sure where he stands with his significant others?

Which is why he thinks it’s safe to always start off in the friend zone or unintentionally puts those who have interest in him in the friend zone because that’s what’s comfortable to him

however if he’s really into you & you’re showing that you’re into him but it’s causal dating or whatever u want to call it? & you up and decide to pick the other over him catching him off guard he’s gonna be in his feelings about it 100% ex.) how he picked erikah over mc the 2nd time around and felt some type of way when erikah hopped on reeses dck

he wants communication even if it’s hard

and he wants someone to love unconditionally and for them to love him back

Definitely likes to sweep his loves off their feet

Especially when he’s kissing! The whole dipping you while you kiss, hand on the small of your back, or hands gripping your waist while he’s pressed up against you. Probably likes to bend you over things or have you pressed up against objects as well—Sign me tf up

I feel like he’s always warm and his hands are surprisingly soft with how many handstands he does in a damn day

He purchases hand moisturizing gloves

can always hold his own weight

enjoys core exercises

Will carry you on his back or his shoulders if you need to see better at festivals/concerts

He’s sexually fluid

It’s canon/hinted that something went on between him & jake when mc walked in that we missed by a few seconds or even a minute but I do think he’s attracted/was to jake and it’s canon that jake is bi bby

Plus he got excited when mc suggested that he’d date jake if jake doesn’t find someone in the villa so BOOM 🤗

Always active as a kid trying to do flips and shit likes he’s doing parkour much like Bobby ending up with bruises, scrapes, and surprisingly no broken bones? Well maybe scratch that last bit out...He did crack his head open a little bit once giving his mother a heart attack but his mother doesn’t dare speak of it — haram!

Loves his sleeveless shirts and silver thick chains

Keeps a five o’clock shadow + might grow a little stubble here and there, feels like it’s part of his signature look

Won’t grow a full beard due to the racism/prejudice he witnessed his father, grandfather, uncles, and cousins go thru!

Will spend coin on some aftershave, none of that cheap shit when it comes to that! Sorry he takes pride in his facial area

probably went thru a mild case of cystic acne when puberty hit & had some insecure moments when it comes to his appearance & still has moments where it’ll hit even tho he beat it thanks to some remedies but tries his best not to let it get to him

He knows how to manage his $ but can splurge every now and then but will never showcase what he has — that’s v corny to him to be overly flashy. He’s looking at y’all @/leggy @/jasper/@/miles

Doesn’t take high quality photos of himself, it’s always zoomed in or extra zoomed in photos—yup he’s got that type of feed

Regrets putting mc in the friend zone & wishes he put more effort in making things work with erikah

But slowly learned to be happy that she’s with Reese even if he wasn’t at first. He really thought there could have been something for him & erikah

he secretly thinks their “relationship” is superficial & based off of shallowness and lust. What else do they have? Nothing that he could have given her but what’s the point in being bitter over this?

Reese is a shit stirrer that thinks he can get anything he wants because of the way he looks & if he knows outside info that he can use again you, he WILL

& erikah? He doesn’t know where her head is at majority of the time. She likes to throw rocks then acts like she didn’t mean to do it but why do it in the first place if you didn’t mean to? + she seems to lose interest fast if they don’t fit her standards besides their physical appearance...yeah Rohan caught all of that

So did she even genuinely like him or want to besides what he brought to the table physically? Who knows

He just thinks people deserve their chance at happiness and he possibly could have had it if he wasn’t standing in his own way...and he absolutely won’t stand in anyone else’s way if they don’t see potential happiness with him

He’s cool with cherry but deep down he knew there wouldn’t be anything long term between him & her after some time. She’s a beautiful/hot girl but she wasn’t his type + he didn’t like how she portrayed herself in the villa even tho she claims there was more than what meets the eye when it comes to her

she proved that to him which she didn’t HAVE to!!! outside of the house and they actually remained friends unlike the now growing distance he has with erikah

I cannoned that him and Hannah give it a go. I think they’d be cute together? She told him from the moment they met at a festival that they were now dating after they ended up holding hands but he didn’t take her seriously since she was a little drunk?

She messaged him two days later asking him when they were going on their date and that was enough for him to give it a go

They only lasted for a couple of months since they outgrew each other slowly but surely. ‘Not all things are temporary,’ he had to remind himself

It was no bad blood thankfully and they continued to be friends with him wishing her well on her new relationship with Carl. He was genuinely happy for her as he always was for his friends

Cannot cook for shit but makes the best coffee with cinnamon & cardamom

once tried to make Aloo Chaat but with a twist! With the use of Potato Skins instead! for a family dinner party and his mum almost sent him home due to the insults his father spewed at rohan trying to fool them all that it was his wife who prepared such a thing

It is evident that his father only enjoys his wife’s cooking

he still makes it for himself when he’s starving despite what his father thinks

Is fluent in Urdu, English came second

Never ashamed of his culture although his father thinks he is...

His fav shows are misfits + the IT crowd and he is currently watching & enjoying truth seekers + mr. selfridge since Tim recommended it to him ofc

his fav American show is the challenge

when asked what his fav American movie is, he got dragged since ppl assumed it would be the greatest showman but he can’t take all the singing...musicals aren’t his thing sorry

But he’ll bust out a rap only if Tim & jake are around, he rarely does it alone

Even looked into producing music for fun but never took THAT seriously

closest with jake & Tim, doesn’t have much of a relationship with the other lads 🤷🏽‍♀️ but there’s no real beef with anyone he knows how to let shit go

But you’ll never catch him having a chat with Reese or following him back on ig. What they had to say to each other was already said and done so?

If erikah agrees to get engaged to Reese, he’s happy for her but cordial to him

if she doesn’t end up with Reese, he’ll be her shoulder to lean on if she needs it

his love language is physical touch with a splash of acts of service

Commonly sleeps curled up, his mum says he was like that in the womb as well—(same dude)

He’s probably a good 5’9 - 5’7 on bad days

Is he a Pisces? Idk

His signature cologne is probably Antaeus by Chanel which is described to have notes of: lemon, lime, coriander and sage w. A blend of thyme, basil and rose

Loves black pepper, specifically garlic, onion, black pepper, and sea salt all mixed together

has a vitiligo spot on the right side of his lower spine that is commonly covered with the waistband of whatever bottoms he has on

has a pogo stick

Wants to go skydiving next, has gone bungee jumping—which was such a adrenaline rush!!!

probably knows a few tips on how to survive in the wild or if the apocalypse hits...you can never be too sure

If he ever gets a pet he might get something like: Satanic Leaf tailed Gecko, Kinkajou, or a Pac-Man frog. He likes being different okay

he actually enjoyed season 3 despite the negative remarks made about it. It was “different” basically drama free which was a shocker knowing how production likes to take things take a shot every time ro explains his decisions/opinions as such lol

BUT he won’t go as far to say he liked it better than his season yet he did enjoy keeping up with it. He def has a crush on iona, aj, vieve, Camilo & tai

Yasmin actually joined one of his lives, which he doesn’t do too often but he couldn’t sleep one night and thought he’d give it a go. She’s quite nice & quiet but he ultimately felt calm around her + they bonded over bohemian lifestyle & his love for the circus + a little about their cultures

Long term goals? He doesn’t have a set timeline of when he wants everything to happen because pressure is not fun

but he wants to be in love and loved back, wants to be married, wants to have kids, wants to try out the circus for awhile and if that doesn’t work out he can always fall back on his psych degree—he just wants to be happy and share that with someone, that’s one of the biggest adventures he can possibly have

His anthem = Blxst, “No Love Lost”

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yikeswtfmate · 5 years

Text

(1) New Message from Unknown Number

main masterlist // (1) New Message Masterlist // next part

Summary: Y/N is drunk and can’t remember her ex’s number.

A/N: Hello, it is I, the idiot who writes Social Media AUs when she’s drunk but is too lazy to put them in the proper format and just leaves them to die somewhere on her laptop

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Social Media AU - that’s a lie, it’s actually just texts in Word format 🤡)

Warnings: swearing, dumbassery

Unknown Number: Hey asshat so listen

Unknown Number: I kno we hvnt spoken since like

Unknown Number: High school but whateve idc

Unknown Number: U’re an asshle so I dnt even care that its like…

Unknown Number: 3 in the morning nvrmd

Unknown Number: Ive ben dared to txt my hottest ex by these evil witchS so

Unknown Number: Here u go

Unknown Number: At least u had decent abs so congrats on tht jfc

Unknown Number: also u dnt get to complain abt this txt bc like

Unknown Number: u dated me for 6 months on a dare so U KNOW WHat this shuold feel like ya

Unknown Number: Wow dude that sounds like a dick move

Unknown Number: Seriously who the hell dates someone for 6 months on a dare?

Unknown Number: Doesn’t that only happen in movies though?

Unknown Number: hey bitchass dont act like u don’t kno what im talkinG abt

Unknown Number: Oh shit yeah, sorry. I don’t know who this asshole of an ex is but I sure as hell am not him

Unknown Number: Dude sounds like a complete waste of human space

Unknown Number: And I think I wouldn’t get to live it down if my friends would hear I did something that shitty

Unknown Number: Wait lemme ask Sam

Unknown Number: Nah, he says Steve would’ve beaten my ass if I were to do that so there u go

Unknown Number: m sorry who tf are u

Unknown Number: Bucky

Unknown Number: what kind of stupid name is bucky

Unknown Number: Shit man, u’re the one blowing up my phone at 3 in the morning, sending me weird ass messages when I don’t even know u and u dare say my name is stupid???

Unknown Number: Sheit srry

Unknown Number: Is been A long night

Unknown Number: nd week

Unknown Number: Actlly make thAt the whle entire fuckin month

Girl with asshole ex: Srry fr bothering u

Unknown Number: It‘s cool

Girl with asshole ex: Hey the witches ask if ure hot

Bonky: Yeah

Girl with asshole ex: WHAT THE FCK MAN AT LEST BE A LIL BIT HUMBLE SMH

Bonky: U wanted me to lie?

Girl with asshole ex: Fair point

Girl with asshole ex: They wnt a pic

Girl with asshole ex: Pic or it didn’t happen punk

Girl with asshole ex: Tht was nat

Bonky: What kind of party are u at that you can constantly text me?

Girl with asshole ex: Wanda’s place

Girl with asshole ex: Girls night

Girl with asshole ex: Getting hammered on wine BITCH

Girl with asshole ex: Also dnt change the subject

Bonky: I don’t even know your name

Girl with asshole ex: Why would I tell u my name I just want to see a suppsdly hot asssd

Bonky: You know mine and now you want me to send u a pic of me

Bonky: Bit of a disadvantage here babe

Girl with asshole ex: Babe?

Girl with asshole ex: BABE?

Girl with asshole ex: Fine

Girl with asshole ex: BABE if I tell u my name will u send a pic of u so we kno u arnt a 60yr old perv

Bonky: I’ll think about it

Girl with asshole ex: Hey fuck u

Girl with asshole ex: Not fair

Bonky: How do I know you’re not the 60yr old perv?

Girl with asshole ex: Cuz she got big tiddies to prove

Girl with asshole ex: And that was wanda

Girl with asshole ex: So now u know my fridsn

Bonky: Still don’t know your name tho babe

Bonky: Also tell Wanda she shouldn’t give out this type of info to strangers

Girl with asshole ex: ure not a stranger anymore bonky

Girl with asshole ex: ure my babe nao

Bonky: I’m going to let that Bonky slide just bc u’re cute

Bonky: But I’m also going to stop replying until you tell me your name

Girl with asshole ex: U think im cute?

Girl with asshole ex:

Girl with asshole ex: I mean u havnt even seen me but thats fair

Girl with asshole ex: Wand and nat say its true so ill believe u rnt lying to me rn

Girl with asshole ex: But I wanna see if ure cute

Girl with asshole ex: Wait why r u up st 3 in the mrng I mean we re drunk but wht r u doing

Girl with asshole ex: Babe u need to take better care of urself

Girl with asshole ex: Babe

Girl with asshole ex: Babe?

Girl with asshole ex: BABE?

Girl with asshole ex: Ph shit ure actually ignoring me

Girl with asshole ex: I dont like this

Girl with asshole ex: I actually like talking to u

Girl with asshole ex: Pls stop ignoring me

Girl with asshole ex: COME BACK AND LOBE ME

Girl with asshole ex: Babe?

Girl with asshole ex: Fine

Girl with asshole ex: It’s Y/N

Bonky: Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?

Babe: fcuk u

Bonky: I’m up at 3 bc we ordered pizza and decided it’s time to beat Sam’s ass in Mario Kart once and for all

Babe: Nd how’s that going for ya?

Bonky: Bitch has been beating us for the past 3 hours

Bonky: Thor is the only one getting at least close to him now so we’re about to give up

Babe: Wait shit how r u replying so fast if ure playing Mario kart tho

Bonky: I gave up two hours ago

Babe: Quitter

Bonky: Just gotta know which fights to pick babe

Babe: Heads up I might be fallin asleep soon

Bonky: Drink some water before that, maybe get some food in u as well to soak up all the alcohol and have an advil close for tomorrow

Babe: Ok MOM

Bonky: Hey Wanda willingly told me you have “big tiddies” so your friends don’t seem to be doing a good job of taking care of you

Bonky: Might as well let me do it so you don’t die tmrw

Babe: Ohhhh so u careeeee babe im touched

Babe: Kkkkkk Ill talk tu u tmrw ill be dead soon

Babe: Nd I do have big tiddies

Bonky: Good night babe

Babe: What the shit

Bonky: I see you survived

Babe: Barely

Babe: My head might explode soon and I feel like I’ve vomited for an entire lifetime

Babe: TMI sorry

Bonky: I’d like to point out I’m glad I don’t have to decipher your texts anymore and that you can actually spell properly

Babe: Fuck you Buckaroo

Bonky: I would also like to remind you that I have on good authority that you have “big tiddies” so don’t make me use that against you

Babe: I am going to kill Wanda

Babe:Ugh I need coffee

Babe: I’ll talk to you later

Bonky: I’ll be waiting for you babe

Babe: So

Babe: BABE

Bonky: Yes baby?

Babe:

Bonky: Nah, you love it

Babe: Fine

Babe: You still haven’t sent a pic of you though. I might be able to rise Nat and Wanda from the dead if you do

Bonky: What do I get in return?

Babe: The promise that I will keep replying even though you might turn out to be an ugly orc?

Bonky: Not enough

Babe: Fine. I’ll keep talking to you until you want me to stop. Or until I get bored of you

Bonky: Eh, you can do better

Babe: What do you WANT?

Bonky: A pic of you in return

Babe: I’m not sending you nudes, perv

Bonky: If I wanted to see you naked and be a dick about it, I could’ve asked last night, don’t worry

Bonky: But if you’ll know how I look it’s only fair I should know how you look

Babe: That sounds reasonable

Bonky: I’d say it’s a fair exchange

Babe: Fine, you first then

Bonky: If you don’t send me a pic of you afterwards babe I will stop replying, just so you know

Bonky:

Babe: Did you type super hot guy with the most beautiful eyes in the world in Google or something?

Bonky: I’m touched but no. Sam took that photo at a work event

Babe: Bitch do you really expect me to believe this is you? That looks like a guy who just stepped out of a magazine, I highly doubt I would have the luck to text him instead of my ex when drunk

Bonky:

Bonky: Are you always this annoying?

Babe: …

Bonky: What? Do you want me to take a selfie with the fucking newspaper now? I read the news online babe, I’m not getting off of this couch just so I can buy a stupid newspaper to prove it’s me

Babe: Do you have one in a suit?

Bonky: …why am I putting up with this?

Bonky: Hold on

Bonky:

Bonky: It’s been 5 minutes, are you going to reply?

Bonky: You still have to send me a picture of you though, a deal is a deal you know

Bonky: Fine, I warned you

Babe: Shit sorry

Babe: Hi Bucky, this is Natasha

Bonky: Hi Natasha. Is Y/N alright?

Babe: Uhm how should I put this?

Babe: Y/N is crying right now and she can’t reply herself

Bonky: What? What happened? Is she okay?

Babe: Oh yeah

Babe: She’s just crying because (and I’m quoting here) you’re “so beautiful, it’s like all my wet dreams and fantasies have come together. I swear this is some cosmic joke, this is not happening”

Babe: I’m not sure if she’s laughing or crying now

Babe: But she keeps yelling at me that I have to send you the most perfect picture of herself that has ever existed or you will stop talking to her

Babe: I think she started crying again because “I will never live up to that level of perfection, he told me that I have to know which fights to pick”

Babe: Uh yeah so here

Babe: 1 Photo Attached

Bonky: Hey Nat, could you tell Y/N that I would like to talk to her now?

Babe: Sure

Babe: Hey

Bonky: Baby?

Babe: Yeah?

Bonky: You picked the wrong fight if you think “you will never live up to this level of perfection”

Babe: Oh God

Bonky: Stop being an idiot

Bonky: And listen to me

Bonky: I would really like to keep talking to you. Mainly because you’re an idiot who makes me laugh, but it’s also the fact that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my entire life

Babe:

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #social media au #bucky barnes social media au #bucky barnes au #social media #bucky barnes texts

620 notes · View notes

linenwrites · 4 years

Text

Reforget (Part 2)

Part 1

________________________________________

AN: If you read part 1, you may be thinking “who are you and what have you done with @shadows-and-flowercrowns .. if that is the case, let me direct you HERE where I explain one of the many examples of me stumbling through life.

________________________________________

AN2: Aren’t you lucky, two messages from me for the price of one?

The final part of this will go up tomorrow. I have a Harry Potter head cannon that I really want to get out next but if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to send them my way!

_______________________________________

Azriel slid into the booth across from Cass and Rhys.

Cassian let out a slight groan of contentedness as he sunk into the cushioning . "See, isn't this better? Now I can actually hear what the fuck you're saying."

Az rolled his eyes. "Alright, old man." He muttered before lifting his beer bottle to his lips.

It surprised people to learn that Azriel was always willing to go to the types of clubs that you see in movies. The ones where they cranked up the music so loud that the sea of people pressed tightly together on the dance floor could barely hear their own thoughts. The three of them had been at such a place tonight. They had only made it an hour or so before someone tripped over themselves and dumped a near full glass of vodka soda all over Cassian.

Normally Az would have insisted they stayed but, after that, he wasn’t upset about them opting out to hang at a place with a more subdued atmosphere tonight.

Cassian flipped him a rude gesture and Az chuckled, taking another swig from the bottle.

Rhys pulled out his phone, a frown tugging down his lips as he starred it. Azriel waited for Rhys to explain the look of concern but his friend just locked the screen before setting it down, face up, on the table.

Azriel tried to leave it alone but his curiosity got the best of him, as it so often did. He tipped his head down, gesturing towards the phone. “Everything alright with the girls?”

Cass snorted, "Elain dragged them to some hole in the wall over in the west side. Nesta told me the bartender didn't know how to make a negroni. Needless to say, she’s less than enthused.”

Azriel raised his eyebrows.

Not at the negroni comment, he never understood why Nesta liked them, but at the bar Elain had chosen.

Cassian continued, "Since when has Elain gone to the west side anyway? After the whole negroni incident, Nesta said the bartender knew Elain by name. It’s weird, ain’t it?”

Azriel shrugged. It wouldn't be wise to open his mouth now. His anger towards the middle Archeron was flaring up again. Weeks of silence, of her not returning texts or calls, had frayed his nerves. He lifted his drink once more, hoping that Rhys would change the subject or that Cass would let it drop but Cassian pushed on, blunt as ever.

"Are you going to tell us what the fuck is going on between the two of you? She disappeared off the face of the goddamn earth and you've been brooding ever since."

Azriel worked to keep his face neutral. "Must you curse like a sailor the moment you get away from Nesta?"

It was a well established fact that Nesta, despite having the ability to make even the crudest blush when she had a few drinks in her, abhorred Cassian cursing. And Cassian, who had sworn up and down his whole life that he would never change for a woman, did his best to accommodate whenever she was around.

All bets were off, though, the moment Nesta was out of earshot.

"Seriously, man. I get if you can't talk about it because you don't want to betray her trust but is she okay? I miss her. She’s family and I miss her being around all the time." Cassian was practically pouting now.

"She's fine." Az ground out.

Rhys let out a long suffering sigh. "Not according to Feyre."

"Just because she likes to hang out at a dive bar on occasion," Azriel started hotly but Rhys cut him off.

"It's not where she is at, its what she is doing."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you mean?" Azriel breathed.

"She's drunk, as in 'can barely walk let alone walk in a straight line' drunk."

His voice remained steady but he knew that they were all thinking the same thing.

The news that anyone else in their friend circle was full on hammered wouldn’t have caused him to bat an eye. Sure, if it was Cass or Rhys, he would likely make their hangover a living hell but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them. They lived by the motto “work hard, play hard”.

But for Elain? For Miss. One-and-Done herself?

"She's an adult, she's allowed to cut loose with her sisters." Azriel answered tightly.

Rhys shook his head as his phone lit up again with a series of messages.

"She just left to go to the dance floor but Feyre talked to the bartender. Apparently this is normal behavior for her. Apparently he has been keeping an eye on her for weeks. He starts giving her watered down drinks when she gets too drunk which is, apparently, all the time."

Azriel's heart was racing.

"Is this because of Grayson?" Cassian mused, "She was a mess after they broke up. Maybe they are trying to make it work again. Or, tried and it failed."

I made my intentions clear, Elain. He had said to her.

Surely this didn’t have anything to do with that. It couldn’t.

"Azriel?"

Az blinked and refocused back on Rhys.

"What?" He asked stupidly.

"I asked you to, please, cut the shit and tell us what is going on. If Grayson is back in her life, fine. We can deal with that. I get why you wouldn't tell us because of how Feyre and Nesta would react but if it's something worse, we need to know so we can help her."

"It's - no, it's not Grayson."

Rhysand's phone started ringing, the screen flashing Feyre's name, but he kept his eyes locked on Azriel.

Az sighed. "It's me."

Rhys let out a grunt of frustration before grabbing his phone off the table.

"Hello?" His face was grave as he listened to the other end. After a moment, Rhys stood up, slapping some cash down on the table to cover the cost of his untouched glass of bourbon that had been sitting in front of him. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

Rhys shot a glance back at Azriel as he walked swiftly towards the door, phone still pressed to his ear. His face was a mix of confusion and anger.

Azriel lifted his beer to finish the rest but Cassian snatched it out of his hands.

"Come on now, brother. We don't need both of you being shit faced tonight."

Azriel leaned his head back into the booth. The two sat in silence for a few minutes as the thoughts eddied around his head. He was furious with her. Absolutely furious. He wanted to break something but he focused on his breath trying to force his heart rate to steady.

He had tried to call her. Again, and again, and again. He had lost track of how many messages he sent and voicemails left that just went unanswered.

She had shut him out completely and it had taken everything inside himself not to show up at her door like some damn stalker to have it out. She had said her peace, she had got out everything she had wanted to but the moment she wasn’t told exactly what she wanted she ran away.

It was ridiculous but he could, in a way, understand it.

Hadn’t he thought about doing the same thing?

But then he found out that she had started to avoid Feyre and Nesta and his anger overrode any sense of empathy he possessed.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous.

A vibration in his left pocket had him snapping back to the moment. Az pulled out his phone, not bothering to look at who was calling him. There were only a handful of people who would dream of calling him at this hour and, no matter who it was, he knew it would be about Elain.

"Hello?"

"Listen to me," Rhys started, "You need to fix this. Elain was just thrown out of one of the shittiest bars in the city but, before that, Feyre saw her dancing with Eris fucking Vansera."

Rhys growled out the last words and Azriel paled.

He couldn’t speak. Every thought in his brain vanished and he was left feeling cold and dark.

"Feyre watched him walk over to Elain from across the bar. He knew who she was. I don’t know, man. I don’t know if it’s because of Lucien or the shit that went down with Mor but Eris knew exactly who she was when he went up to her. Thank God or the stars or whoever the fuck else is out there for Elain being such a lightweight. Feyre said Elain never saw Eris’ face and then started throwing up so she got kicked out.

“Whatever happened between the two of you, figure it out." Rhys spat before he hung up the phone.

Azriel lowered his shaking hand as he met Cassian's gaze.

"Eris was at the bar tonight." He muttered. Cassian's face remained calm but his eyes burned with rage.

His heart ached at the idea of what Elain would say, what Mor would say, when they found out. The pig had been caught red handed brutalizing Mor but got off because his daddy owned some major textile manufacturing plant in city limits.

As with everything lately, it was all a pile of tangled string.

Elain had been appalled to learn that the kind, red-headed man she had met at the book store, and subsequently gone on a few dates with months ago, was related to that piece of shit.

It hadn’t been a quiet revelation, either. Elain had gone to a picnic with Lucien to meet some of his family members when Eris walked up. She hadn’t recognized him but Eris knew once he heard the name ‘Archeron’.

There was never any indication that Lucien was anything like Eris, and by all accounts, he had no idea of what had happened but, still. Elain couldn’t stomach the idea tightening the connection between Mor and Eris so the two had parted ways amicably.

Azriel was unsure if the sadistic fuck would use Elain as a pawn against Lucien or to torture Mor just a bit more and that uncertainty made him sick.

"I need to be with her tonight."

Cass took a deep breath before nodding. "Who?"

Azriel froze.

It was such a simple question on the surface. Elain or Mor? Mor or Elain?

But that question, that choice, had been the start of this whole mess and his inability to decide had caused so much pain.

Mor had been his first love, the first bit of brightness in his dark life. It had baffled him as much then as it did now that such a beautiful person could even look his way.

She had fought for him in so many of the ways that counted. He had been rescued from his abusers but he still felt like he was drowning every damn day until she stepped into his life. For the first time, there was light. She was so radiant that, even when they were apart, he still felt like he was slightly blinded. Like staring at the sun for too long.

Her easy laughter and charm had him wrapped around her finger in an instant. There was no thought, no room for consideration. She had appeared in his life and he was irrevocably changed from that moment on.

It had been different, with Elain.

She had come to him broken and at times he had hated her. Hated her for wearing her pain and sadness so loudly that she was like a damn mirror to his own suffering that he fought so hard to hide.

Still, he gravitated towards her. Perhaps he wanted to help her because he still had some hope that he could heal himself. Perhaps he just really couldn’t control his desire to know what made certain people tick, to learn their secrets and desires. Perhaps it was because he was a masochist and just wanted to feel his own suffering a bit more but Azriel chose her.

Again and again he chose her.

At parties and dinners at first until it turned into quiet conversations alone, in coffee shops or on apartment couches or during long walks when sleep evaded them both.

He whispered his traumas and, for the first time in his life, she didn't baulk. She stood steadfast with him on the shore as they both endured the crashing waves. Elain traded him with her own misery and Azriel prayed he handled her secrets with the same level of poise and grace that she possessed.

He watched as, over time, she learned to pull the pieces back together in ways he never had managed for himself. She learned to fill the gaps that would never heal the same and love the scars, no matter how jagged, they left behind.

It wasn't until she was gone that he realized how she had managed to begin to do the same with him. As she healed herself, she had begun to seep into his veins and warm his soul. So damn slowly that he hadn't even realized it happening.

Until she left.

Her words haunted him and now he stood alone. Shivering and cold in the darkness of the void she had pulled open.

Azriel swallowed, feeling a part of his heart shut off forever. It had only been a moment since Cassian had asked the damning question but it had felt like an eternity had passed.

His friend could never know how much weight was in that question.

"I need to see Mor."

_______________________________________

@lil-mis-red

#elriel #elain #elain archeron #elain and azriel #elain x azriel #azriel #azriel and elain #azriel x elain #reforget

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jjkpls · 5 years

Text

(y)our name 2 - two (m)

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 10.3k

> warnings/content : dumbassesfriends to lovers, unrequited love, slice of life; cursing, dirty talk, penetrative intercourse, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, some filth and then some more filth; jk being a lil shit, oc still panicking

jungkook : Who said I don’t want it

It took him a good twenty minutes to send this. You don't know if he pondered over it for that long or if, after getting back to whatever it is he was doing, the thought suddenly sprang in his head. It's such a curious message. Makes your heartbeat stutters and your hands clammy and it takes you an eternity to formulate a response.

you : Well you sent me the link for a reason

jungkook : Yea cause I thought it might help but it has nothing to do with what I want

What?

jungkook : You’re the one who said you wouldn’t do it again with me

What?

you : Did i say that?

jungkook : Yes you did

You start to type but stop as you realise you don't even know what to say. He wants it again? And what is he even saying? You don't remember ever saying that. Everything's a blur honestly, but Jungkook's words, his insistence, it almost gives off the feeling that he remembers well. Perhaps he hasn't just brushed it off like you thought he did.

you : Would you want it again?

jungkook : Say what you meant to send and I’ll answer

Those goddamn dots.

you : That’s not very fair but whateva

you : You wanna be a big baby as you always are

jungkook : I’m not even going to answer that

you : Well you just did idiot

You purposefully waste time, just trying to delay the confession.

You want to test your luck -maybe rejection is not what's waiting for you. He's pushing it, demanding you to tell. He's admitted some of his own feelings so you should do the same.

you : it’s just that I found myself very frustrated, to an extent solo doesn’t do anything for me anymore..

As soon as you send the text, you shut the device off, throwing it down on the carpet. It's burning like your shame on your face and you can't bear to hold it any longer.

You really sent that. Your heart is beating furiously. You feel yourself sweating bullets. It's so hot, you sway your legs nervously, vainly hoping to ventilate the suddenly overly-heated room.

Jungkook is sweet, he doesn't leave you hanging for too long and soon enough, your phone is vibrating, begging you to pick it back up.

jungkook : Of course it wouldn’t

you : Ok don’t even get cocky with me dude

jungkook : Why not? It’s my fault isn’t it?

jungkook : Cause I made you feel that good

So he knows. You were annoyed for you found yourself troubled, anxious and restless. Shaken to your core, moved to your soul. But a side of you, the rational one, kept pestering that you were the chaotic, dumb and weak one responsible for the mess he's made of you. However, here, he admits he knows. He's known all along. He's done it on purpose: fucking you up.

you : 😐

jungkook : Don’t admit it it’s fine we both know it

What an ass.

you : Seriously you’re too cocky what for

Your brain is off right now. You don't know what to say, tempted by the teasing warmth your chest is taken over but nervous to let it spread too far.

jungkook : I know I’m right

jungkook : I’m not trying to embarrass you

jungkook : Maybe embarrass your exes a bit

jungkook : But it’s pretty easy to tell

jungkook : When someone hasn’t felt a certain way before

jungkook : I know you’ve never come that hard before

jungkook : Don’t lie to me

jungkook : And more than once you reacted like I was crazy

jungkook : Thats the whole fun of playing with a cunt it’s to make it come endlessly until it hurts and your soaked sore and allswollen adn red

Shit. How does he even do that? With just a couple of texts, rendering you speechless, breathless and burning. Soaked in your panties, the discomfort so evident you have to sit up, thighs pressed to one another by fear of exposing the incriminating dark spot out in the open.

He does own you. Capable of manipulating your body and mind with a few well-chosen words. It's something you've never played with, dirty talking. And you didn't know you'd like it as much as you do. But when Jungkook does -the other night, tonight by text- it's lethal.

But how could he do it so easily? Turning so lewd so suddenly? When for the past weeks, he's acted so natural, so casual as if he couldn't care less about the sex you've had. How can he just switch like that?

you : Are you drunk?

jungkook : 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

jungkook : A bit tipsy we went to a bar with the crew

That explains some of it.

jungkook : Was it too much?

you : Nono it’s fine

you : I just don’t know what to say

jungkook : Tell me what you want

jungkook : What you meant to ask me the other night when I so rudely interrupted you with a dumbass article

Well, shit.

It's just Jungkook. Honesty and shamelessness are the main keys of your friendship. However, you're not him and expressing your sexual desires as easily as he does is not innate.

jungkook : Don’t be shy just tell me

Fuck it.

you : I’d like it if you could be with me again like the other night

You can count the excrutiatingly painful seconds as they tick by. It's been fiveteen.

you : 😬

Now, fifty.

you : 😖 😖 😖

Finally, he decides to spare you.

jungkook : Is being friends is not a problem anymore?

you : Idk i trust you you trust me

you : We communicate well most of the time

you : Last time wasn’t such a big deal was it? I feel like we’ll be fine

you : Don’t you think?

You're rambling. You need to stop rambling. It's one thing to be in constant panic mode with this shit -this you can deal with, you know yourself and you accept it- but Jungkook really doesn't need to know.

jungkook : Idk I guess you’re right

you : So when you come back are you going to consider it?

jungkook : No

What a dick. Toying with you, bringing you there to then, deny you. How dares he?

jungkook : I’ve made up my mind already

jungkook : You’ll have me if you show yourself convincing enough

you : like how?

jungkook : It’s not that hard

jungkook : I love it when someone makes me feel like you really want me

jungkook : *they

Oh boy.

you : k ill try

You’re resolute to try. To try your hardest. It kills you, the idea that he somehow managed to have the upper hand in this. It feels like he's going to make you suffer. But the point of the matter, the only thing you care about anymore is the fact that you were wrong -he did enjoy the first time if he’s up for a second. Oh, and also, obviously, the fact that you are a couple of hours away from a devastating orgasm you've been craving for for weeks.

You spend the whole day -luckily for you, you're not working- prepping you. Trimming and grooming. Exfoliating and moisturizing. And as you’re doing all that, your stamina is twitching in anxiety because, holy shit, it feels like it never stops. There’s always a thing to arrange, another one that wouldn’t let itself fixed and when was the last time you spent that amount of effort into looking (that) attractive for someone? Even for Namjoon, you did not.

You did a lot. You cared about him. Namjoon was always so class and handsome and you hated the idea of being an ugly potato attached to his side so you’d take care of yourself more than you would when completely single -just gotta be honest. But not as much. You’re not exactly sure why. Probably because Namjoon was attentive and sweet but not the same kind of lover. He wouldn’t feel you up as heavily as you remember Jungkook doing. He’s never specifically asked to see you with the lights on. He’d talk to you and listen and maybe that’s more what it was about. He would lean in and seem to be drinking in your appearance when you’d be having a good conversation. One where you’d get animated and passionate. You’re pretty sure your brains -no matter how lame you consider them to be next to his- were what he liked the most about you. He must have found you pretty. Surely. But you’d never really caught him giving you a longing stare from the other end of the sofa when you were not looking.

He’d call you pretty and ravishing when he’d come to pick you up for a date and you’d spent a lot of time dolling yourself up. But always the same way. Always the same words. Never anything specific to what you were wearing or whatever. And his eyes were not really looking, were they? It didn’t hurt your feelings nor your ego that much. Because there’s probably nothing more flattering for you to have someone like you for your mind rather than your appearance -the flimsy quite irrelevant thing that you don’t really have much control over. It was fine. And like everything that used to be fine, Jeon Jungkook had to make it a problem.

As you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, pinching your lips together to spread the lipstick more evenly, you’re reminded of the way his hot stare was burning you that night. You remember how every time you’d look his way in the dark, you’d see his big round eyes locked on you with the cute stars in it shining fondly. You have no idea how attracted he is to you physically. You have no idea if he is at all or it’s just a thing that he does. Maybe he likes you the way you like an ugly old picture of yourself. With time and fondness, it becomes sweet and special and you just like looking at it.

Maybe, it's a weird analogy.

More so given what he’d be doing to you, the words he was saying while looking at you like he did. You don’t know how to read this distinctive mind of his. It’s new territory. Not completely terrifying because there’s your guide, your best friend, walking you through it. But it’s like a new mansion you’re just visiting. So bright and light and welcoming, with so many doors all closed but not locked and you don’t know what’s behind any of them even though you’re so curious to figure it out. There’s all those new faces, secrets behind those doors. You hope he’ll open them to you. All of them. They’re holding, you're certain of it, mind-blowing surprises -if the other night, where you discovered an actual man instead of your little boyish baby of a friend, is anything to go by. And it’s wonderful, that idea. That after all this time, after being so sure of knowing the kid like you’ve crafted it from scratch yourself, there is still more to learn about him. New things for him to amaze you with.

“What are you doing?” Eun is watching you with a hand on the frame of the door, eyes blown wide and a weird stance. She looks about ready to flee like she’s witnessing something so unspeakable she is that close to jump on the phone and call the cops.

That’s rude. You’d frown if you were not so concern about munching up your freshly applied mascara. Fair enough, lately, you haven’t been exactly runaway material but the way she’s looking at you is plain blank offensive.

“I’m just making myself pretty. Do I look weird to you?” Maybe you do. Maybe you overdid it a bit.

She completely ignores your concern to jump on the exciting bait you did not even mean to throw. “What for? You have a date?”

“No, I don’t. It’s for my own, uh, enjoyment.”

Her face twists comically while she tsks in disdain. “Bitch, please.” Getting ruder by the second, she is. “You have a date. It’s not Namjoon is it?”

“No, not with Namjoon. But do I look too different, like strange-different?”

“You look gorgeous, babe. I was just surprised.”

“Oh okay, cool.” You decide to take her words for facts, panicking over potentially looking like a clownish try-hard is not what you need.

“So... A date? You little cachotière*.” Here, the nerves hit. You have been nothing but excited since the text conversation you had with Jungkook the night before but now, merely an hour before he’s supposed to be home, you begin freaking out.

It’s Eun and her overuse of the “d-word”. Because it’s not like that. At all. If it becomes a date then you have to rightfully so freak the fuck out. Thanks to her, even if it's not one, you start losing it. In your state of panic, while you observe yourself liquify in the mirror -it’s quite interesting to watch, you having a crisis in real time-, blanching in utter destress, another scary thought assaults you.

Jungkook lives across the short hall from here. He and Jimin and you and Eun are so close and comfortable around each other, you basically share one giant apartment, allowing yourselves to just barge in no matter how inappropriate the moment is. The whole floor is a constant open house. The probability of having Eun find out that you’re in fact sleeping over to their's is so high, it’s almost prophetic.

Shit. She’s going to ask so many questions. And of course, she won’t believe you if you say you dressed yourself up to the nines just to go play games with Jungkook. She’d think there would be something else to it. And she’d be right. But she doesn’t need to know just yet. You were blessed enough the other night, that she drunk herself to sleep with Jimin, knocked herself out so bad she couldn’t remember anything past the cake cutting. Not that you have or want to preserve secrets from her. It’s not really secrets. “Secrets” sounds like you’d purposefully want to withhold information from her from lack of trust. It’s not like that. It’s just whatever Jungkook and you are doing is yours. There are a lot of things you two never consider sharing with other people just because they are your thing.You two share a private garden and no one will ever be invited to visit it.

“Who is it?”

“I- just- it’s a bit soon to-“

“You don’t wanna say yet. Ok, I get it.” She says it with geniune sympathy, yet her glossy lips puckered in a little pout. “Do I know him?”

“Uh- possibly.” Her eyes widen for a second before they’re looking up to the roof, searching her brain for the full list of your common acquaintances -she’s understanding and respectful but that doesn’t mean she's not eaten up by curiosity.

After a while, as you ponder over your own image and consider wiping your whole face off of the makeup to just go with something more like your everyday self, the one Jungkook knows better, Eun gives up on the investigation and redirects her attention back to you, “Is he handsome?”

You don’t know how to answer her and end up giving an incoherent babbling and spilling of squeaky sounds that can only describe it better than words would. She’s smiling a wolf grin, picking up a lipstick from her personal shelf before taking a makeup remover tissue to drag over your already painted mouth. She applies, meticulously, the new taint she’s chosen. It’s a deep red, very sultry that gives you the look of a sexy vampire or maybe a succubus.

She gets it. Jungkook's tending to observe you is not the only reason you've worked so hard on yourself. He is so deadly handsome. You always knew but not felt it arouse anything within you. You saw him as that little brother of yours who’s grown so much into a very charming, universally attractive boy. But that night, with his hair -you’d never, in more than a decade of being his friend, seen his forehead and you’re oh-so glad you did not because horny-high-school-you would probably have freaked about it, who would think that eyebrows could do so much to someone's face- pulled back and his leather jacket, quirking his eyebrow and biting his lip and leaning around like he was some kind of James Dean. You don’t know how responsible are the orgasms -surely, they can have an impact on your perception-, or your thirst, but you’ve decided, observing him more attentively since that night, that he was one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Truly.

Also you can’t actively name who would be standing right next to him on the podium but that’s just a detail. A detail you won’t share with him more than you did last time because you don’t want his ego to inflate and explode right in your face. It wouldn’t be pretty nor pleasing. He's cocky enough already as it it.

Anyway, you just want to look beautiful because he, himself, is so much so.

“I hope you’re aiming to get laid because with this magic...” Eun leaves the sentence pending, her sharp eyebrows high over her protruding eyes conclude it. You can’t control the widely telling grin drawing itself on your mouth.

“You’re gonna need a lot of convincing.” It’s the first thing he said as he saw you walked in through the cracked open door. You’d just sneaked your way through the whole length of their apartment, trying to not get caught by Jimin while having a mini attack because said Jimin was sitting right there, in the living room you had to pass by. He had headphones on and was so engrossed in whatever he was doing on his cellphone that he didn’t even notice you, staring at him like a deer caught in headlight, not even flinching when in your panic to run from the scene while luck was still on your side, you had knocked down a craft bag full of noisy ramen boxes. You hadn’t even picked it up, just rushing to the end of the hallway for Jungkook’s bedroom.

You don’t know what you look like right now. You feel awkward and dishevelled and quite exposed, standing in front of him in your fancy outfit while he’s in his pyjamas, looking up at you from the bed, with an unimpressed expression masking his face.

“You know I arrived 2 hours ago, right?” He is not genuinely upset, you can tell. But there’s a little edge to his tone. An honest curiosity. And maybe a relief. Maybe he thought you had changed your mind and hadn’t bothered letting him know about it.

“Yes, sorry. Mom called.” You say it with a bratty roll of your eyes as if you’re not left warm and fuzzy each time you hang up a phone call with her.

She’s lovely. You miss her often but not to the point of actually wanting her around -she’d pester and nag the life out of you if she were to see the state of your room and just the general way you chose to do things. And she talks so much. She has so much to say every time she picks up the phone to ring you. Everything about her and about your dad and the rest of the family and the rest of the neighbourhood and what the mayor has been up too and what her colleagues at work have been discussing about these days. It goes on and on and on and you understand that it comes from a place of her missing you dearly but when most of the times it is okay and a fairly entertaining way of wasting two hours doing nothing, you couldn’t care less about whatever the hell was going to be replacing the shop next to your uncle’s when the stupid story is delaying the event of tonight. But how could you tell her that? So you sat on the barstool, your forehead pressed onto your handbag (that you didn’t need but you were supposed to go out on a date so that fit better the narrative), shoe-clad feet bouncing nervously in the air, half-listening, half-dreading, humming noncommittal monosyllabic words into the phone, as Eun watched you from the sofa, staring with a beyond confused, low-key judgmental gaze, miming with all her body how you should hang up and head out. And that’s how you arrived two hours late when you meant to be in his bedroom before he even came back from the station.

You shrug, grimacing in a form of apology. But Jungkook knows your mom like his own and doesn’t hold you accountable for the lateness anymore, his face being recovered by a soft layer of fondness at the mention of her. “She said to tell you she thinks about you a lot and misses you. And to give you kisses too.” He chuckles at that and you match him, amused by the double meaning you now give to the term. You used to almost fear those innocent kisses -more subconsciously than not, it just wouldn’t come about, none of you needing to express your affection like that- and look at you now. About to get screwed by him. For the second time.

He is staring up at you with an intensity, you don’t want to get ahead of yourself and assume what it means but it is here. And you can't help but stare back, hoping to not show too much how bad you want to jump on him right now. Lain in bed like that, back pressed against his headboard, with a half unbuttoned white silky-like shirt, and his expression and his demeanour, you can see that under the cover his legs are taut and slightly parted: he looks like he’s expecting something. You. He’s been expecting you and you’re finally here and he’s tantalizing you with the meal he knows you want to consume. Tantalizing because no matter how sure you are that his expression means he still is on board and wants you, he doesn’t look willing to make a move. “So, as I was saying: a lot more convincing will be needed.”

“Well, I’m here already. Doesn’t that tell you I- like- want it?”

“Sure. But still it’s late and I’ve been travelling all evening and I’m so tired.” He feigns a yawn. “As you can see, I was going to sleep.” What an annoying little shit. He makes his eyes all big and sorry-looking, putting his mouth in a pout like he’s saddened. But you see the quirks of his stupid eyebrows. He has the “bullshit face”. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Whenever he has it on, and he has very little control over it by the way, you know he’s in for some bullshitting. Either it shows when he wants to get away with something he’s done or doesn’t want to admit it out loud, or he’s straight on wanting to mess with you. He has had that stupid face since he was fourteen and he pretended in that one conversation about porn and sexism that he shared the same opinion as you and yes, lesbian porn for male was wrong and disgusting. He didn’t believe a word of it, and this not because he was a big fan of the genre but because he wasn’t a big consumer of porn in general -which you didn’t know at the time. You just knew that he was lying because his face contorted in a way it never did before and that was suspicious as hell.

So here comes the bullshit face and you already know why. You’re in for some torture. Jungkook and his stupid competitive ass. While he doesn’t like competing in 'real' life with other people because he doesn’t like to win over them, he has no problem with you. He loves to make your life harder. He balances it out by being the best friend you've ever had but still, so aggravating.

“Guk, seriously, don’t be mean. I already made the first step the other day!”

“And then you avoided me for a week.” He says, totally unfazed.

“It wasn’t even a week.” You’re the one scowling now. Mumbling through button-shaped lips. “Seriously, I can’t do this...” There’s a flash of alarm blinking for a second on his face as he straightens up in his bed, the cover slipping completely from his torso, exposing all the golden skin peeking from the open shirt.

“Do what?”

“‘Convince you’. I can’t- like- seduce you or whatever.” You grumble like an upset kid and that’s pretty much what you feel like. It’s like your favourite toy, the one you’ve been wanting for many Christmas is just right here, within reach, but you won’t have it because you’re required to resolve an impossible math problem or something. It’s too hard. You already feel yourself burning from embarrassment, your heart is thumping in your temple and you just decide to give up, taking a few tentative steps backward, hand already reaching out for the handle when Jungkook jumps off of his bed to grab it. Standing so tall and broad, hovering you, his warm hand holding yours and the breeze of his perfume hitting your nostrils, you’re taken by a rush of excitation. It’s crazy what the context does to perception. He stood that way in front of you so many times but never have you felt so small, never have you found him so big and attractive because of it and that scent, you’ve smelled basically all your life -a soft flowery carress-, never made your head spin that way.

“Don’t leave!” His voice is a bit loud, almost desperate and the thought that he might be makes you smile internally. “Lemme help you.” He demands so gently, with the stars in his eyes as fervent supporters to his cause, there’s no way you’d say no. He could ask you anything when he’s looking and talking to you like that, with his warm hand now pressed to your neck, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod your head once and he kisses you. As softly as he is, your hands clutch at his shirt way too intensely to match. He’s so gentle like you’re a tiny little thing he’s dreading at the idea to scare away. So different from the kisses you remember him giving you the other night. It’s lovely anyway. Tender as can be. Delicate and kind and when he pulls back to look into your eyes again, your heart warms up with all the love and adoration you have for this man. He really is your best friend, the most important person in your life that you had chosen and he makes you so happy.

“Is it okay?” He whispers so sweetly you want to wrap your arms around his neck and suffocate him with love. You nod again this time more dismissively because a scent in his breath has just interpellated you.

“Have you been drinking?”

He smiles cheekily, dipping his head down in guilt. “I had a shot or two.” You relish in the shameful tremble of his confession.

There’s this complimentary thing about you two. One would often compensate for the other's lacking. It’s never been conscious or anything but it’s always been there. You see the way he gulps visibly, you recognize the tiny blush of his cheeks sauntering to his ears, you know why he had those shots, and you feel the rush of confidence run through your veins because he is so nervous, you can see it now. Therefore, you have to tease. It’s only fair.

“You were not this nervous by text, were you?”

“Stop saying that, I’m not nervous!” He exclaims with passion but you both know he’s lying and it makes you laugh right in his face, uncaring of his pinching your cheek to make you stop. He’s just too cute and dumb.

“Keep that up and I really won’t be nice to you.”

Even if the grin remains on your face, you shudder from head to toes. His tone has dropped to a lower purr, his gaze is dark with a gravity that wasn’t there before. That's funny because it really feels like a deja-vu. Last time unrolled so similarly and you know what is supposed to happen now.

“You always say that.” He doesn’t say anything, keeps staring, engaging in an eye staring contest, daring you to not drop your own. “You threaten me but you never act on it.” You say quietly. You don’t know what comes over you, probably just the heat of the moment, but you regret almost instantly to be so reckless. You don’t want him to be merciless with you. You had a taste of him being fairly nice the other night and almost died. You’re terrified of him being mean. But here you are tempting him into doing just that.

Perhaps he, who knows you the best, reads you again like a book he’s written himself and he settles for being soft and lenient with you. He leans in to smash his lips to yours, now wet and demanding, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before you even get to close your eyes. His hands holding your head firmly, his hips leaning forward making his thighs dig into you, his tongue greets for the briefest of moment your own, sending a direct message to your centre which you can feel clench around nothing. But before you can gather back your thoughts and try and meet him and work his mouth too instead of just letting him devour you, he’s let you go. All grip on you, any proximity allowing you to feel his warmth are gone. He’s so far the only thing that's still been linking you, the thin strip of saliva joining your mouths, snaps. You’re cold outside yet burning inside, heart erratically pumping in your chest, feeling dumb and confused and abused and revolted, because why would he already stop? Especially to step back and look at you like he’s decided he now wanted to be mean.

“I’ve helped you enough. Now it’s on you.” You gawk in silence, watching mindlessly as he proceeds on making his bed, laying the cover flat so he could hop back down on it.

“What does that mean?”

“Make me feel good. Remind me why I’m letting you have me when you’re being such a bitch.” You gasp at the choice of word. He’s never used it in front of you, not even in a joking manner -or maybe once or twice but he was talking about his roommate who happens to be one at times. Your astonishment is met with the greatest smirk. He’s having so much fun because he’s got the upper hand again. “Treat me better and I’ll be good to you when it’s your turn.”

And this is one of those moments you'd encountered so many times since you were a little girl. This instance where two options would be presented to you and you had to make a choice. An important one. One that you decided would define you and therefore, it needed to be the right one. Either you choose the easiest option, indulge in your fear of the unknown, turn into a coward, denying yourself what you really want because you’re scared. Or you carry your virtual balls, decide that even if you might fail, you will follow this terrifying path out of your comfort zone because you want the future you to be proud and thankful for you. Most of these times, you did not only think about you but also about the little boy with the bunny teeth and fluffy hair and big and soft wondering eyes which were always watching you, you couldn’t permit yourself to bend and plead because you wanted to inspire him to be strong and adventurous.

The boy's right there. Not so little anymore. Not needing any push nor any light to follow. But eyes still as big and soft, looking at you so expectantly, you recall those would never hurt you. You can face the shame. You can even face the embarrassment of not knowing what to do or try and end up doing wrong because it’s just Jungkook. He’d smile to heal your bruised ego and guide you gently the way he did before.

You step forward, carefully, as if he’s become the fragile being ready to fly away now. It's silly. The precaution is for you more than for him. Legs twitching slightly, eyes set on your every move, lips now hanging open as if he’s struggling to breathe, he doesn’t look whatsoever wanting to back away. He’s waiting for you. You slip your feet out of your shoes in a swift motion, before kneeling on the bed, one hand setting on his knee. You see his Adam's apple jump up and down and you wonder if he doesn’t wish he had downed more than two shots. He keeps switching from a nervous wreck to a hot “alpha” dude and you don’t understand how you're supposed to deal with that.

When you look down, pondering over your next move, you notice the blue shorts he has on. You know them for you’ve seen him wearing them multiple times before. They’re meant to be rather loose. At least you thought they were. But as you gawp at them, you’re struck by how tight they look on his legs. They end way higher than they should because of his position, his thighs filling them up to the point of straining -if he keeps them for too long you’re sure he’ll have a thin indent along his skin. His thighs look so meaty and the part just before his knees, lacking fat rendering his monstrous muscles enhanced. You press your own legs on reflex. You had no idea a man's legs could be so attractive.

The glorious view finishes to urge you on. Trailing forward, your hands set on the object of your new obsession, fingers loving the warmth of his skin and dipping in the flesh. He feels wonderful under your touch.

Would he let you bite them a bit? Maybe if you ask nicely, he will. You shake the thought off. It’s not the plan right now. You don’t even know if he’d like that and you’re supposed to please him.

You raise yourself from the bed, keeping your balance thanks to the grip you have on his thighs and get even closer to take a seat on the left one. Jungkook looks so handsome from up close. You’re met with his soft skin and pretty shades. There’s the rather deep scar he got on his cheek one of those times when you were fourteen and you were practising riding your bikes on the low stairs in front of the subway station. You remember how scary it was to have to entangle him from his fucked up bike with half of his face pissing blood. Terrifying. But it left him with this eternal scar, charming along with his boyish features, and memory of a not-so-pleasing moment but precious friendship. You love it even more because he lies each time he's asked about it, telling crazy stories that'd never happened, while sporting a cheeky smile only you understand. And there are his beauty marks scattered here and there like they’re playing a game of hide-and-seek. You find your favourite one hiding under his bottom lip, lean in to place a kiss on it.

When you back away his eyes are shut, his face so relaxed, he looks so peaceful and happy with this tiny curve of his pink lips -lips that you notice are smeared with a faint dark red you know to be the lipstick you're wearing-, you want to squeal from how grateful you are to have him like that.

Jungkook scrapes his throat when he opens his eyes again, shifting a bit under you as if to get more comfortable and you’re reminded that he’s waiting. He’s been waiting patiently and your clit from down here pulses as to remind you that you also need something.

So you start moving. Hands pressed to his shoulders, loving how sturdy and big he feels under you, you grind languidly along his thigh. You feel it building already. You've lost the manner, the way to do this for it to be nice, but it's so hot: he is, his breath on your lips is, the room, everything is. Soon the intense gaze you’re sharing with him is broken as his head falls backward, all teeth out from how amused he is. You don’t stop moving, no matter how confusing his reaction is, because the contact on your clit feels incredible. It shoots a succesion of electric shocks through you, blanking your mind momentarily each time, there’s no way you’re stopping because he wants to make fun of you again.

“So I tell you to please me and that’s what you come up with?” He asks once his fit of chuckles have quiet down.

Breathlessly, you counter, “You said you liked that.” You’re not offended about his change of mood. You couldn’t care less. Not when you’ve figured out exactly how to move your hips to treat your cunt, when the motion has come so easy to perform you can now speed up comfortably.

“I do but when you’re done, you’ll have to try harder than that.” You nod, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. He takes hold of your hips. He’s not guiding, just letting his hands there as to feel you, encourage you. “For now, just make yourself come, babe.” Your eyes open again on his, the latter having a lot to say. You read them outright. He wonders if it’s ok to call you that. He apologizes every time he does it by accident so it feels a bit weird, unfamiliar. But the pet name, for some reasons you don’t care to elucidate, renders you all putty and giddy. He can probably feel it in the way you melt even more in his embrace, looking up at him with large eager eyes.

“I promise I’ll do better after.” It slips out of your mouth straight from your hazy heart and Jungkook catches it with eagerness. You sound so tiny and lenient. Almost pitiful.

“You’re doing great, baby.” He assures you right away, kissing your jaw with way more tongue than lips. “You’re so sexy.” You moan over him, from the pleasure building, the wetness on your skin, the praise, the name. Your fingers slip under the open folds of his shirt, too lazy and incompetent to unfasten the buttons, but so eager to grant your eyes with the glorious vision of his thick chest, they drag the tissue down as much as it’d go, not caring the least about how the stretch might hurt the skin around his neck. “Are you close?”

“Yes.” You moan in his ear. His hands on your covered hips glide along your thighs to sneak under the skirt of your dress and grab the flesh the find there.

“You know one thing that I would really like you doing for me?” His voice, texture of honey, meets the crook of your neck and coats your heart in a thick, warmth layer.

“Tell me.” You pant in his face without an once of embarrassment left. You’re rutting like a horny bitch on his thigh, begging him to tell you how you could please him. How he brought you there, how he is doing all this is beyond your comprehension but you're loving every aspects of it.

“I'd really like you to cover my cock with the pretty lipstick you have on.”

Your lips press against one another. May Eun be blessed.

“I’d love that.” His tongue is at your collarbone for a devilishly short instant. “'Will show me how desperate you are for it.”

“Ok, I will.” He smiles to you, from his bunny smile to his glittering eyes. “Can you kiss me? Like ear-earlier?” His mouth is on yours before you get the question fully out. You moan into him, finding out this is the tiny push you needed. As he licks and sucks, his fingers digging deeper in your thighs, you get off both from the friction and his kiss. You’re almost there. You can feel the heat spreading. You sneak one of your hand down his chest to his crotch to get a grasp of his cock. It’s so hard and so hot under your palm. So hot and wet in your mouth. And you are coming undone, hips snapping on his leg, eyes shut and lips open only to leave out a small, broken whine. The pressure against your clit feels a bit too intense, a bit raw and makes you jerk and wince, until Jungkook wraps his arms around you and welcomes you into his chest, kissing the top of your head while whispering something you don’t really catch through the ringing in your ear.

It’s decided. If he’s ok with it you’ll come back to his bed for all your sexual needs. Rubbing yourself on a pillow never felt that good and he hasn’t done much to you, just being there and turning you on in a way that shouldn't be allowed. When you withdraw from his lap, you’re cringing visibly from the sensitivity, movements slow and careful, face contorted. Jungkook is watching you with undisguised enjoyement, a grin biting on his lower lip.

“So I gather you like thigh riding too, now?” You shrug, red in the cheeks, avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t comment further. He just sits there, the tips of his fingers grazing mindlessly the thigh you just rode. The other set of fingers toying with the hem of his dishevelled shirt. You watch him from under your lashes, not ready to meet his eyes just yet, resulting in you having to face the prominent bulge of his crotch. The moment lasts for an eternity. All you can think about is why he won’t give it to you already. “If there’s something that you want, you should know how to ask for it.”

Aggravation is heavy on your temples. You take the time to think about it and quite frankly you don’t have it in you to start arguing for something you both know that you both want. You’re not that petty. He can have his stupid win if he wants.

“Strip already so I can- suckyouoff.” How is it so difficult to say out loud? You’ve never thought yourself to be that prude but here you are, having to say the words, and you realize you’re so unfamiliar with them if not for the erotic novels you used to read back in high school. While he, on the other hand, says all those obscenities with such perfect phlegm.

His slender fingers raise to his shirt, toying with the first button and after an excruciatingly long time which tastes of pure torture, they unfasten it. They aim for the next one but just stop there. You’re boiling, shaking, this close to jump on him and rip it off already. Decency and, to a bigger extent, pride keep you from doing so. He would like this too much.

“That won’t do, ___.” You can't help the long sigh that escapes you.

“Remember what I said? Convince me.” He says again, stressing the syllables as to make sure you get them right this time. He's pushing you so far. Too far. You don't get why he would challenge you this much. He was gentler the other night, more complaisant. Maybe it turns him on. Maybe he's not a total dick and actually likes to be worshipped rather than simply enjoying your misery. You do want to please him. Therefore, with a trembling voice, breath shorten by timidity, you pronounce aloud the words you mean but hurt to admit.

“Can I please have your cock?” Those are the magic words. In a blink of the eyes, his shirt is thrown away, one of his hand sets on his crotch, massaging it softly while the other reach for you, open palm welcoming you forward. You fit yours in it, Jungkook presses the inside of your fingers to his mouth before he drags you to him. Once you've kneeled in between his opened legs, your hand slip from his. You look up, gnawing on your lip. “Can you like- guide me through it?”

“You've never given head before?”

“I did but- I don't know. I want it to be good.” He smiles wide. That big, big grin that shows off both his up and down lines of teeth, with his dumb nose all scrunched up.

He nods, observing you quietly. And you reach for the waistband of his shorts. You mean to just drag it down to his thighs but he takes upon himself to strip completely out of it. You have no idea how he does that, standing fully naked there, in front of you -who's still fully clothed, by the way. You're not complaining; when he's looking this good, it makes it rather understandable. He looks perfect. Perfect but not in a linear, boring way. In a shockingly stunning way.

You've never had the full experience. You had the massive thighs, the broad shoulders and lean chest, his pretty face and opulent fluffy hair on top of it. But all put together, he's a deadly piece of art. Hypnotizing. Shaped like an Adonis. He looks so handsome. Gorgeous.

And of fucking course, as any piece of art, not a detail is left neglected. He's this remarkable to his very sex.

It's so fucking ridiculous. And unfair.

Quick before letting yourself the time to look at it for too long and get intimidated, you wrap your hand around it. Fairly long and lean, fair with a blushy tip. So soft and warm and hard in your hand. Such a pretty cock. The thought plagues your mind but you're smart enough to not say it aloud. It's one of the weirdest thought you've ever had, you realize.

It's true though. So true. So pretty it just pulls you in.

You kiss the head a few times, slowly, before you slide to the length. Walking your way up with your tongue, you hear him hiss aloud, see his abs contracting in spasms.

The tip of his cock is so tender. Flushed, silky and soaked, tasting and feeling so nice on your tongue, on your lips. Your eyes meet his. You're just curious to see how sweet his face looks when he's letting out all those tiny whimpers. You see him grimace, frown before he closes his eyes shut and throw his head back, blocking entirely the view you're giving him and you're wondering if you're doing this right. He's not giving you any guidance like he said he would. He's not that loud, quite quiet even, if you consider how talkative he was the other night. He's not bucking his hips uncontrollably in your wet heat like you remember your ex, Taehyung, used to do.

As you suckle on the head, dipping the tip of your tongue in the slit, your left hand holding him firmly upward while the right one, curiously tests its way down, caressing his balls. There's a switch hidden there apparently. Each time the tip of your fingers dip there, he leaves out a languid groan.

“You're not telling me what to do.” You complain between two deep inhale, raising up. Your lips feel hot, tingly, and you imagine them swollen and red. You imagine it's the reason why he's staring at them the way he is.

“I don't need to tell you anything. You're- You're doing perfect.” It makes you roll your eyes. His voice is tensed, his words stuttered but he might be faking it. He's not even cursing or anything. His hands not gripping your hair. Awfully disappointing. Perfect in your mouth but disappointing around you. Even more so, when he stops you from leaning to work your mouth on him again. “You wanna give me more?” You stare silently, not having a clue of where a yes would take you. “Wanna try to ride me?”

It’s the best sensation you’ve ever felt. Sitting on his chest like it's your throne, having him look up at you with the giant marbles he has for eyes, enchanted and eager. “Should I eat you out first?” You’re soaked. You’ve been feeling yourself drip since you tasted for the first time a drop of his precum, you don’t need to be eaten out. You know what’s to come. You’re about to have him fill you up again. After all this time craving for it, dreaming day and night about it. You wouldn’t want to delay it any longer.

When Jungkook gets busy grabbing a condom from the nightstand, you take the opportunity to throw your dress over your head. You’re not sure why he hasn’t hinted at taking it off yet. His wandering hands have been teasing the skin under it non stop but he’s never tried to actually take it off.

“Jungkook, why not take my dress off?”

He looks up from the wrapper he’s been struggling with, confusion shining in his eyes. His mouth opens, about ready to answer but he catches sight of your form, naked except for the delicate black lace lingerie you carefully picked. He’s never seen you naked with proper lightening, nor any close to this state of undressing as the last time he’s seen you in a bikini, well, you can't remember but it was probably in late middle school. He seems to like it. It’s the special gaze again. The one of a lover. The ardent one, dark, almost teary as his hands graze up your sides so lightly it leaves a painful scorching along the skin. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You mean to hit his chest to chastise his over-exaggerated gravity but you can’t deny his sincerity and your hand simply lands flabbily instead. “Can I keep my, uh, underwear?” He just nods, doesn’t get cocky or mocking, eyes still bathing in your appearance, and a crazy thought occurs. Could it be possible that he sees you the same way you see him?

You don’t like to talk in leagues. It’s ridiculous and pointless and for the most part inaccurate. You know your worth. You’re a good person with a lot to offer, fairly pretty on a good day, with some flaws, of course, but nothing that outrageous, just like most people. But Jungkook is quite, he’s quite phenomenal. Friendship put aside, you can see how much of a surreal deal he is. And physically -even though it doesn't usually matter to you but since it’s about sleeping together for the sake of sex rather than feelings, it kind of does matter here-, he’s beyond anything you have ever seen, in real life or on a screen. He’s something else. Something else from another world. A perfect dream of a perfect sculptor brought to life. And he’s looking at you like he doesn’t know that, like he can’t see that and he believes it’s you the piece of art.

“Sure. You’re- It looks so pretty on you.” His voice has lost some of the heavy tension from before. He's smoothing the tissue under his fingers, studying the quiet intricacies in the pattern.

“Thanks. I just bought it.” His dark orbs snap up.

“For me?” You could lie. You could and he would never know about it but you want to tell him the truth. You nod. Shrugging slightly to pretend casualty. Kindly, he whispers, “Thank you, babe. I love it.”

Maybe it's the timid blush on your cheeks that manages to change his heart. Either way, it’s like he finally thinks you’ve done enough and don’t deserve to be waiting any longer. However, now it’s your turn to delay the action a bit. Placing your hand on his just wrapped firmly around his cock, you prevent him from covering it up just yet. There’s still precum shinning at the slit, and the head looks so sweet, you just need to know if it’d feel as good against your clit as it did on your tongue. It does. It’s soft and sleek, warm, it toys so pleasingly with your button and the visual, the visual is sinful. The cherry on top is the expression you catch on his face when you look up. Jungkook is as mesmerized as you are by the sight.

“I want you now, Guk.” It takes him a good five seconds during which he gauges your gaze. You’re not sure what he meant to find there. Doubt maybe? Disappointment? Probably. Disappointment matching his own for he seems to drag on the moment he separates your two sexes to proceed on slipping the condom on. You feel it too. The almost dread. There’s a vivid image of him jerking himself off against your clit that blinks furiously behind your eyelids. Fuck. It doesn’t help to see him tug at his cock and manipulate it between those beautiful veiny hands of his.

“Up.” You obey forthwith, pushing on your knees to let him place the tip just under you. His free hand push the crotch of your panties to the side, managing to sneak a couple of fingers between your lips. It makes him smile when he sees you unwittingly bucking your hips forward. “You control it all, ok? It’s like for my thigh, you just do what feels good to you, yeah?”

You nod. The rational part of your brain is freaking out but the greedy glutton that is the other side jumps on the occasion. Literally. In one swift motion, you've downed yourself completely on him, taking his cock entirely in, you’re almost positive you can feel him in your womb. It has him gasp loudly, cursing under his breath as his hands fly to your hips to squeeze them meanly. You don’t know if it’s a manifestation of a brusque and unexpected rush of pleasure or if you’ve hurt him as much as you hurt yourself. He should have done it. He’s the one that knows how to get you off. He gives you the power for five seconds and you manage to hurt the both of you with your incompetence and stupid hormones. It's not a good time to give up though. Not when he still has the steamiest kisses for your collarbones. You start rising up slowly this time, it’s decided you’re keeping it slow. It’s easier for you and brings you progressively to a more comfortable fit. Also as you take your time to free every inch and take them back in one by one, you get to feel him graze your walls. It’s a wonderful sensation. Being that filled up. Being on top of this man who’s still holding you like you’re holding his faith between your hands and he’s so willing to know what you’ll decide to do with it.

Lucky for him, you're feeling merciful. It’s hard not to when through the layers of sweat and crimson covering him into your lover, you still catch glimpses of your best friend. The cute little boy, forever the cure to your loneliness and adversities, the one person you would give up your whole life and its aspirations for. Even your family, you care so much about them, love them so dearly but you’re still marked by that time you had to come to the realization that your life was your own and you had to disappoint them by going against what they wanted for you just because it didn’t match your vision. But Jungkook, Jungkook could ask anything from you, anything and you’d give it to him. You’d give up on anything that’s ever meant something to you. Because he is everything. He's all the meaning your life owns. You’re not sure if it’s the right time but it’s there, sitting on his cock, riding him minutely that you feel a rush of utter love and adoration for the one friend that possesses your happiness since you were little. He's so sweet to have never withheld it from you but you know it depends on him. You could cry just meeting his pretty eyes looking back at you with as much fondness as your heart feels.

You’re getting too sappy, it’s ridiculous. You gather it comes from the pace, nice but not high enough to have you two focused entirely on the pleasure. Therefore you proceed to mix it up as much as your body would allow you. Switching the speed, the movements, rotating your hips instead of rising them, going back to jumping on it, just guiding yourself by his reactions, the quiet curses, the kneading of your flesh under his hands, the wincing of his features. He’s so hot. So sexy. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. You don’t even deliberately control your hips anymore. It’s just your body following closely Jungkook's advice. Doing whatever feels good.

“Guk, I’m close.” His eyes which had been closed for the past few minutes from the deep grinding of your hips against his pelvis suddenly shoot open. They’re not soft nor gentle anymore. All dark and intense again.

He grabs your face in his hand, the thumb digging in your left cheek as the rest of his fingers press the other one. Pressing his mouth hard to yours he asks, “Will you come for more?” He's harsh, voice severe as he doesn't speak but growl, sending an electric jolt to your spine. Soon the idea that there might be even more hidden wherever that Jungkook comes from is sending liquid fire to your cunt.

“Yes, yes, I will!” You gasp, blinking a tear down your cheek. He notices it and let his grip on your face to wipe it away. You’re about to come. You’re so fucking close. You can tell the ball of your orgasm has reached its maximum size, it just needs something, one little something to burst and annihilate everything else. “Why?” His hand is back to the side of your face, not rigid like before instead warmly cupping it. Eyes searching for yours, he presses, “Why is that? Baby, tell me please.”

“Cause you’re so goo-uh”

“Me or my cock?” He chuckles against your hair and you wonder how the fuck he has enough brains left to make jokes, when he’s that deep inside of you and must be, has to be, as close as you are.

“B-both” That makes him laugh again, that same mean chortle.

“Yes,” He’s moaning it so languidly. He relishes in the idea. “Shit- come here.” Jungkook presses down on your lower back, you follow leniently, like clay in his hands, laying entirely on top of him. He helps you raise your ass up higher and once you meet the perfect position to take it, he starts thrusting upward hard, slowly but brutally, each time you can hear the loup clap of his hips against your skin, you’re pretty sure it’s going to hurt tomorrow but for now, it feels fabulous.

It’s so rough and it feels like you’ve been going at it forever. The girth is dragging the ring of your hole along with the movement and that stimulation alone is electrifying. You’re almost there.

“Tell me- talk to me,” Desperation is laced closely to his tone now. It fits him so well, you're loving it. “Tell me y-you’ll come back to me for m-more, please.” He’s losing it, you can hear it in his tremble, his cute stutter. And the grunts he’s leaving between each needy word sound animalistic.

“I will, Jungkook.” It comes out before you even get to think the confession over. But as it does, you realize you mean them entirely. “I’ll always come back, you just, ah, you fuck me so well. So fucking good, your big cock always-” A particularly strong thrust, resembling more of a spasm, pushes a new tear down your cheek. “fills me up so good, you- no one has ever-“

“Fuck. No one has ever what?”

“Fucked me this good, shit.” Shockingly enough it’s your own words, filterless, genuine and born from the fabulous heat of this moment, that suffice to push your orgasm to the edge and make it explode and invade your whole being, body and mind. You don’t even take notice when Jungkook ends up coming, blinded and rendered deaf by your own pleasure.

It's when your erratic heart starts to calm down, and your muscles to relax, melting calmly into Jungkook’s body who’s welcoming you so kindly, not complaining about the heat or the weight or the stickiness, you gather he came too.

It’s incredible this sensation. Not that you’re proud of it but being taken over by pleasure so much so to render you selfish and clueless of your every surrounding, even your lover, it’s never happened before. You wonder if that’s not the precise reason why none of your before-Jungkook orgasms can compare.

As you land back safely on his chest, you're only granted a few minutes with his agitated heart beating under your cheek and his comforting warmth before your surroundings reappear to you, obnoxiously reminding themselves to existence. “Oh my god, Jimin!” You whisper yell in a theatrical gasp. It just makes Jungkook laugh. This moron.

“S’fine, he has Eun to discuss it with.” You raise up, fighting the fatigue, just to glare at him. It's the same stupid argument as last time. Except this time, it's so fucking worse. You still don't get how casual he can be about this. “I don’t care. Do you?”

a/n : Phew. That was a big chunk. If you made it this far, i thank you immensely. I’m sorry if the editing is a bit off, i’ve been looking at this piece of work for too long and my head is torturing me so yea, soz. What did you think? Tell me all your thoughts!! There’s still one chapter to go (but i don’t know when it’ll be up - i have other little spooky projects to attend to, i hope you guys don’t mind). ANYWAY. A beautiful week-end to you guys, kisses, love & 🍗🍜. :)

tag list : @lavscenery @busansgloss @batakookie @jwlmnbt @somewhereinthestarss @amanda-deann @feminist-goddess

#ksmutclub #gukkienet #btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #my writing

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boldly-ho · 4 years

Text

Another Life - Chapter 7

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: M

Word Count: 2877

Chapter Summary: Viago decides you should all get along, so you go for a night out on the town with the guys to humor him.

A/N: Drunken author. Let me know if there are any glaring issues. American author. Never been to NZ. Let me know if there are any glaring issues. As always, cross posted to ao3. Posting early bc I’m still drunk and idgaf.

“Hey,” you greeted the three men who were already seated around the kitchen table. “Is Petyr coming?”

Viago hesitated. “This doesn’t really pertain to Petyr.”

You’d figured as much. When Viago asked to come down for a flat meeting, your second since moving in, you’d guessed it was about Deacon and his reluctance to do his chores. You were surprised, then, when your flatmates all turned to you and Viago spoke.

“So, Y/N, we don’t want you to feel as though we’re ganging up on you…”

Wait, what?

“Okay…”

Viago continued. “It’s just that you- and not all the time, of course, just sometimes-“

“Stop slamming the front door,” Vladislav interrupted.

Given that Viago, in his attempts to calm you, had very much worried you, you were grateful for Vladislav’s blunt approach.

“Your bedroom door, too,” Deacon added.

Viago offered you a sheepish smile, his fangs just poking out of his mouth. “Ja.”

You felt a bit embarrassed by your transgression. “Have I been waking you guys up?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to be more conscious of how much force I’m using.”

Viago offered you a real smile this time. “Great! I’m glad we were able to come to an understanding.” With that, he drew a neat line through the impeccably written ‘flat meeting’ on his to do list and flipped his notebook shut.

“Right,” you said. “Uh, did this have to be a whole flat meeting though?”

Viago stared at you blankly.

“I mean, couldn’t one of you guys just have pulled me aside and asked me to close the door more quietly? Instead of having a whole production?” Despite Viago’s initial spiel, you did feel a bit ganged up on.

“I tried that!” Deacon interjected, clearly offended.

“You did?” You didn’t remember that.

“Last week. I told you that you had woken me up and to be more careful shutting the door!”

Oh, crap.

He had. To be fair, though, you had thought he was just being a jerk because he didn’t like you, and so you’d dismissed his concerns out of hand. You felt your face heat in embarrassment.

“Oh, right. Well, I, uh, didn’t realize you were serious,” you mumbled.

“What?” Vladislav asked. You could tell from his tone that he was asking because he hadn’t heard you, not because he was shocked or appalled at your words.

Still, it wasn’t helping how suddenly sheepish you felt. Attempting to speak more clearly you said, “I didn’t think it was actually an issue. I just thought you were just being particular because you don’t like me.”

Now it was Deacon’s turn to look sheepish.

“It’s fine!” You hastily tried to reassure them all. “It’s no big deal, really. I’ll be quieter during the day. And, Deacon, it’s fine. You’re always civil.” Almost always, anyway. “And it’s not like we all need to be best friends, right? Really, it’s fine.”

Looking around the table, you were met with blank stares.

Okay, then. You excused yourself and made your way upstairs to your bedroom, taking care to close the door softly behind you. You wished you could forget the last few minutes.

Only moments later, you heard a knock at the door.

“Y/N?” It was Viago.

You sighed internally before opening the door.

“Sorry about that downstairs. I hope it didn’t feel like an ambush.”

“No, of course not,” you lied.

“Good,” he responded before getting to his main point. “Why don’t you come out with us tonight?”

“Like out clubbing?”

He nodded. “Ja. With you and Deacon not really getting on, I figured we could all get to know each other better over a night out.”

Ah. So Viago was the kind of person who needed to be best friends with his flatmates. You didn’t really feel like going out tonight. You’d been up all day, whereas your flatmates have been awake for just a couple of hours. You also weren’t super excited to spend a whole evening with these guys. On the other hand, it had been a while since you went out, and it would be nice to get out of the house for something other than work or grocery shopping. Still, though, didn’t these guys actually, literally kill people when they went out? Maybe? But if you went out with them, it’s not as though they’d bring home a victim. Not someone that you had seen and interacted with. So by that logic, shouldn’t you go out?

Viago was looking at you expectantly.

“Um, okay, sure, why not?”

He grinned excitedly.

“When do we leave?” you asked.

“As soon as you’re ready.”

“Give me 15?”

Viago nodded and left, and you got ready in a heavily expedited version of your routine. You applied a coat of mascara and a layer of powder before brushing through your hair. Quite a bit more casual and simple than your usual going out look, but you hoped your go-to dress would make up for it. It was a classic black LBD, the perfect combination of slutty and classy, fitting your form in the most flattering way. Checking yourself in the mirror revealed someone who looked pretty well put together, all things considered. You pulled on the matching shoes and felt again to be sure the cross necklace was still in place before speeding downstairs.

The guys fell silent at your arrival. It was clear from Deacon’s glare and from the residual energy in the room that they had been talking about you. Viago probably hadn’t gotten the others’ permission to invite you along. Having already made up your mind to go, you traipsed out the front door and began towards the bus stop, trusting them to follow you.

The bus ride into town was silent and awkward. Your flatmates all boarded ahead of you, and the bus was crowded. Your choice of seat was narrowed down to either squeezing yourself between Viago and the wall, or sitting in a row of three with Deacon and Vladislav. Given your relationship with Deacon, one erotic dance invitation notwithstanding, and what had happened the last time you had any real interaction with Vladislav, you chose to make yourself fit in the narrow space beside Viago. As the bus began to move, you realized that choosing the clearly uncomfortable space sent an explicit message to the other two that you did not want to sit with them.

Upon exiting the bus, the four of you formed a small huddle to discuss the evening’s game plan.

“Let’s go to Boogie Wonderland,” you offered. They shot you down. “Red Square?” They again refused. “Where do you guys usually go, then?”

“We could start out at the Big Kumara,” Deacon suggested. ��I’m supposed to meet Jackie, anyway.”

The other two agreed easily, so you nodded as well. You didn’t know who Jackie was, and you’d never been to the Big Kumara, but as you approached it, you realized you’d seen it before, though never given it much attention. It was more of a townie bar than a club. That might be best, though, given that you didn’t do much for hair or makeup.

You guessed that the guys must be regulars given the odd and friendly greeting by the bouncer, and how a casual “She’s with us,” from Vladislav was enough to get you the same greeting.

The bar was quiet compared to the street outside. Other than the four of you, the only people there were the two seated at a booth and the bartender. It was simultaneously too dim to see well and too bright compared to the nightclubs you were expecting. It smelled more like the wood paneling on the walls than the greasy pub food you expected they served. Oh well, this night wasn’t really about were you went. It was about spending time with your flatmates. Or at the very least, placating Viago.

“I’ll get the first round. What do you guys want?”

“No thank you.”

“I’m not really in the mood right now.”

“I’m alright.”

You laughed.

They moved to take a larger booth.

“Oh, seriously?” you asked. Who turned down free booze?

“Ja,” Viago answered. “You go ahead, though, and meet us over there,” he said, pointing.

Whatever. It saved you some money. Still, why go to a bar and not get anything to drink?

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

You ordered your drink, plus a plate of chips for the table. When he returned with your drink, you gave him your card and asked for a glass of water as well. With the other guys not drinking, you figured you should do your best not to get wildly drunk.

Your beverages and fries in hand, you returned to the booth to find not just your flatmates, but an unfamiliar woman, as well.

“Hi,” you greeted her. “I’m Y/N. Help yourself to some chips.”

“Hi. Jackie,” she introduced herself. “I’m an old friend of Deacon’s.” She reached across the table to shake your hand before taking a few chips.

“Nice to meet you. Can I get you a drink?” You took a sip of yours.

“No,” Deacon answered for her. “Jackie isn’t staying. We just have some things to discuss.”

His tone brokered no discussion on your part. You wondered exactly how they knew each other. The two excused themselves from the table, leaving you, Viago, and Vladislav alone.

“‘Do you guys come here a lot?”

“We know the owner,” Vladislav answered, “so we can get in even on busy nights.”

You wondered if he meant nights that the Big Kumara was busy, or nights when Te Aro in general was busy. Because it was busy out on the street, and you imagined in other bars, right now.

“That’s cool.”

You downed your drink quickly in the awkward silence that followed, and didn’t bother to excuse yourself before going up to the bar for a second.

“Same?” the bartender asked.

You nodded. “Do you know those guys?” You gestured back to your booth.

“They’re in here a lot, yeah.”

“Are they a bit… odd?”

“No odder than anyone else who frequents here.” The bartender gave you a knowing smile that you did not return.

You sighed, taking your drink and returning to the booth, where Vladislav sat alone. You really weren’t in the mood to be alone with Vladislav yet, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Where’s Viago?” You took a big swig of your drink.

He pointed to the back exit, where Viago stood with Deacon and Jackie. “He’s trying to convince Deacon to get on board with Red Square.”

“Red Square?” You perked up, figuratively and literally, sitting a bit straighter in the booth. You suddenly felt lighter. If you had t sped an evening with the guys, it would be better to spend it in a place less conducive to conversation and one more conducive to partying.

He laughed gently. It was warm and fuzzy.

God, you were a lightweight.

“I like your laugh.”

His smile pulled gently at the corner of his mustache, and you found yourself staring at the gap between his front teeth. “I think you’re a bit of a lightweight.”

“Am not,” you lied.

He didn’t fight you on it. “The Big Kumara isn’t really your vibe, clearly, so we’re going to go to a club.”

You downed the rest of your drink quickly, and chased it with your water. Vladislav exited the booth and stood beside you, offering you a hand up.

“Can you walk?”

“I’m barely buzzed!” you protested before taking his hand. Looking up to his face, you realized he was joking. Teasing you. “Oh, ha ha, very funny.”

When you reached the exit, Jackie had left and Viago and Deacon were waiting for you. “Red Square?” Viago asked.

You nodded too eagerly. Perhaps you were a little bit tipsy.

Red Square was a few blocks away, but you were in fact a lightweight, and your buzz was turning you into quite the chatterbox.

“Jackie seems nice.”

Deacon nodded. “She’s okay.”

“I like her hair.”

You caught Vladislav’s smirk from behind his hair. “You think I’m funny,” you accused him.

“Sometimes.”

“Red Square!” You picked up speed as you saw the club.

“Five dollar cover,” the bouncer said.

“I got it.” You offered partly out of an effort to be friendly, and partly out of laziness, as the only cash you had on you was a twenty dollar bill.

You forged ahead into the loud, dark atmosphere as your flatmates all paused at the door. “What are you guys waiting for? Come in!”

As if suddenly convinced, the three entered the club.

“This place is amazing!” Viago yelled over the music.

“You’ve never been here?”

He shook his head.

“You’ll love it!”

Viago, Deacon, and Vladislav spoke among themselves before heading towards the dance floor. You made your way to the bar, grabbing a barstool that was luckily open, and ordering a drink. You scanned the room for your friends. It was hard to see through the crowd, though, and you couldn’t quite find them.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You turned to see someone new in the seat beside you. He was very attractive. Dark curls and stunning brown eyes, with a blindingly white smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

As if on cue, the bartender returned with your order. “Sorry,” you told him.

He didn’t seem very bothered. “What brings a girl like you here all by herself?”

This guys was 0 for 10 on originality, but you smiled in spite of yourself. Whether due to him or the nice buzz you had going on, you weren’t sure.

“I’m actually here with my flatmates.” You gestured vaguely at the dance floor. “Y/N.” You introduced yourself.

“James.” You politely shook his hand, but felt a bit silly doing so. “I’m going to order a pretzel. Want in?”

“Heck yeah.”

After a fair bit of small talk, one pretzel, and the rest of your drink, James leaned close and whispered in your ear. It was nice, intimate. But maybe too intimate? “How about I buy you that drink now?”

“No thanks. I should probably get back to my friends.” You liked James. He was friendly and attractive, and very clearly into you. But he was getting hot and heavy a little too fast, and that really wasn’t what you were here for. In fact, you were beginning to feel a bit guilty for spending the evening away from the guys, since that was the whole point of Viago inviting you along.

“Come on,” he whispered, hand moving up your thigh.

You grabbed his hand and thrust it away. “I should find my friends.”

His hand moved to your upper arm, gripping just too tightly. “Don’t be such a bitch.”

“Hey!” You looked from James over to the bartender, who was too busy at the other end of the bar to notice what was going on.

“Is this guy bothering you?” You felt a wave of relief wash over you at Deacon’s familiar voice above you and his cool hand on your shoulder.

“Who the hell are-“ James paled as he looked up at Deacon, before almost falling off of his stool in his attempt to get away.

You looked over your shoulder, but Deacon seemed normal to you. “What did you-“

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked as he took James’ seat.

“Yeah. Thank you.” You ordered another drink from the passing bartender.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You rubbed your arm absentmindedly. “I’m glad you were here, though. Where are the other guys?” you asked.

“I’m not sure.”

You scoured the club and briefly spotted Vladislav in a small booth with two women. Two, really? You couldn’t find Viago on the dance floor or in a booth.

“Viago told me what happened with you and Vladislav the other day.”

What?

“What?”

He repeated himself. “Viago told me what happened-“

“Nothing happened!” You were quick to defend yourself.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to explain why Viago said what he said.”

You didn’t love that they had been talking about you.

“It wasn’t about you at all. Once we found out our new flatmate was a woman, before me or Vlad even saw you, we made a blanket statement that no one would hit on you. Just as general precaution to avoid trouble.”

Hit on you or murder you, you guessed.

“There was a bit of a special emphasis placed on Vlad, but that still wasn’t about you. It’s just because he’s a bit of a, uh, ladies’ man, I guess. And knowing Vlad’s history, like Viago and I do, Viago just leapt to the wrong conclusion. It was about Vladislav, not you.”

You nodded, looking back to where Vladislav sat with two women. A ladies’ man. You could see that, you supposed. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, really, but he wasn’t unappealing. And there was something about him. A magnetism of some sort. You could see why women were drawn to him.

You thought about his laugh.

“I just figured Viago and Vladislav wouldn’t say anything about it to you.”

You downed almost your entire drink in one go. “Thanks.”

Deacon nodded.

“You know doing erotic dances for your friends is weird, right?”

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #vladislav #vladislav x reader #jemaine clement #another life #al fic #drunk tag

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myvelouri · 4 years

Text

What I wanna know is why did you torture me that day I needed you so much? That day I really needed you to be my girlfriend. It doesn't happen much, but when I need some support I had hoped my girl would be there for me.

The day I'm talking about is when our work again ganged up on me and shoved me in the meeting office and tore me up and wrote me up for bullshit. It was so degrading and there's a whole HR case built around it all. You knew I had going through this with and you had my back sort of. They have been harassing me and just, it's been unfair and horrible. Especially since I'm a good worker and I do a lot.

Anyway, that very day I told you they called me to the office and railed my ass again and I was extremely upset. I texted you about it. I came over after, and you had this lil box of treats for me. It was cute. I was like, yes! That's the kind of shit I like lol. But... But it wasn't completely real. This night ended horribly... BECAUSE of you. You hurt me more than the managers at work did

So I let you hear the recordings of the managers treating me like shit. You were on my side. It was a lot, you saw my anxiety flair up and everything. Suddenly your phone was blowing the fuck up. It already was, but now it was insane. Suddenly you said it was your best friend R. I tried to look but you hid the phone immediately. Then you said "I have to talk to her... But privately" and I said huh? Why? Show me the screen, like, what did she say, what's wrong. And you wouldn't let me see it. I kept asking and you walked away, and you said you'd send me a screenshot... I said wtf why send a screenshot, just flash me your screen real quick, it's that easy... But you wouldn't... And during this era I was already aware somethin was going on behind my back. So, my anxiety flared the fuck up so so bad. I even told you, babe....you're making my anxiety really fucking bad. And you walked out the door and I said BABE just show me the screen, and you made that face like, it implied how I'M the one who's being gross by not being trusting and by being invasive. But I wasn't. That face you made was a way to manipulate me into making me feel bad or guilty for asking to see your phone, to make me feel ashamed so that I'd not ask anymore. But in reality you were fucking cheating and R wasn't actually R, it was your dumbfuck ex and you changed his name to your girl best friend "R." (I'm not using real names here). And I fucking knew it. But at the time you still hadn't admitted to it. You admitted to this way way way later when I had to persuade you so hardcore. Like, you WERE literally going to go on the rest of our lives without ever telling me. That's scary. That's fucked up. But anyway

That night, you took forever on the phone and then you sent me a screenshot, but you had blotted everything out except for two messages from R. I said this doesn't show shit!

And then I asked you what really was goin on. I even said that that's not R, who is it really

You came back to the room and you had said "oh it was just R, she's out drinking and she's just drunk and being a dumbass, but her brother is there too and I talked to him too and he said he's taking care of her"

I feel like that entire lie was just so that you thought that if I maybe heard you talking to your ex, you knew I'd hear a male voice, but you tried to plant "oh it's R's brother" to try and trick me further. That's so fucking evil bro.

And this whole time, this night was really meant for me, cause I really really needed you. Cause I was seriously hurting from work. And us as well. Cause I knew shit was wrong.

And then I honestly asked you what happened with R. You said you can't tell me and that R wouldn't want you telling anyone about her personal shit. I said no way dude, you were gone a while and you did that whole gesture, you called her in private? Shady. Then you wouldn't show me the screen? Shady. Then you blotted out the screenshot of the texts? Shady. And now you don't want to tell me about ANY of it? SHADY. I already let go of that other time you did this. Which I knew was a lie. You used your grandma's sister's illness as a cover for cheating. Fuck, you FAKE cried and accused me of not being considerate that you don't want to talk about your day with Grandma who was supposedly so sad because of the sickness, and like, yeah, your story was all over the place and I kept asking and I just know you were with him that whole day. Fuck you dude. Idk what's worse. The actual cheating, or lying about it and manipulating me and not having even the slightest ounce of guilt while doing it. The capability you have rather. Holy fucking shit.

But back to this night. How the fuck? So I asked what happened about R. And I kept asking cause my anxiety was high now. Shaking. I was shaking. And you then finally said "okay... So R's dad almost died and so she was texting me saying morbid stuff like 'ha my dad's dead'" and shit like that. I said well... Why wouldn't you tell me that? It's not that bad, she's drunk and upset... We've told each other much deeper things...

I asked her, well, okay, then the texts you just blotted out. If what you're saying is true then why won't you just show me the texts right now? Just show me it, the unedited one... Show me.

You fucking wouldn't show me. And so I hot more anxiety. Cause you were lying. And I knew it. I asked you over and over. And you started crying a bit but saying "I DONT WANT to talk about it!" And you said talking about things makes them real and you don't want to feel. I said I'm your boyfriend and you can't keep hiding R. Cause you'd been hiding everything between you two for the past month+. And I've become fed up with it. I can't do that. I don't fuck with secrets. And so you really put up an act. Started crying. Then after so much, you finally said "ok ok... It's just that me... And... Me and R... Well... We're..." And you sat on my lap as you are crying. I just want the truth. You said finally "me and R aren't going to be friends anymore" and you went into other stories about how y'all were bestfriends and at the other bestfriends wedding you all said you'd be BFF for life and meant it.

At that point I said... Okay. Alright. Well, then can you just show me the texts she sent? Not all of them, just the literal one you edited, just that, there's like 5 tiny messages there. It's not much. I don't want to scroll through, shit just send me the unedited screenshot.

You STILL WOULDN'T

So my anxiety was sky high. I was already shaking uncontrollably when you had left the room to call "R" and you didn't give a shit. You let me suffer with anxiety. I already HAD anxiety from the abuse at work.

So you still wouldn't let me see the messages. At that point I said okay wtf is really the truth, cause you're just telling me things that are unrelated to what is happening in this moment, to what those texts are actually about and it's dead obvious

So then we're in the bed and you say you don't want to talk about it. You say you don't want to tell me. I ask and ask. Finally you say "R says I'm dating an old man, and that I like old dick" and I was shocked to hear that. I had already said I'm prepared to hear whatever it was so I held back my hurt. I said "okay. So R doesn't like me... So is that what the texts said? Is that what she said to you? But that makes no sense, why would she just text you that and you call her and it be such a big thing? This doesn't make sense... So now that you already told me what she said, can I see the actual texts now? I mean why not, you already told me what it said so just show me" and you said no. You wouldn't show me. And I said I don't trust you at all. And you went into your phone and deleted the whole thread between you and R... Which was suspicious. Well, you actually laid there and deleted individual texts one by one and then showed me. I said what the fuck? It doesn't count as you showing me when YOU DELETE SHIT. wow

And I was already shaking. Well it turned out much later in the future, R had indeed said they about me but she said it in a joking way. Yet you used that on me as if to say she was being cruel. You actually used hardcore attacks against me in order to hide the text messages and the actual truth. And what was the truth? That R wasn't R, and that it was in fact your ex. And yeah, I figured that the text was "baby" and it went on.

You actually prolonged it so much

And you continued to see him after. And you cheated even more. Then kept going to him after making shit physical.

I just want to know why you tried to hurt me when I needed you... Why did you keep lying in a row like that... And then you kept seeing him for months after even after seeing that I caught on and even after you saw how much pain you put me through, like, it was physical, you could SEE my pain, I was shaking. You never once thought of me when you were out with him getting drunk, kissing me, letting him call you baby, who knows what else

I hate you so much for just that.

There was so many incidents

Why did you keep lying? Why did you keep breaking the trust when you SAW I was catching on and already caught on

Why did you try to play me when you couldn't get away with it

But besides that... Why did you try to play me when I was your hubbu... I thought you wanted to take care of me babe... I thought I was yours and my heart was in your hands... I trusted you... Why did you do it?? I cry still

#personal #relationships #heartbreak #heartache #part 1 of many

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trashcanmarvelfan · 5 years

Text

(Stand-Up) Routines and (Engagement) Rings

Summary: 2 years after the events of IT: Chapter Two, Richie brings Eddie out during one of his stand-up performances in order to ask a Very Important Question.

Warnings: Lots of F-bombs (like seriously there’s 1 for less than every 100 words or something but let’s face it, our gay little balls of sunshine can’t say anything without swearing)

Word Count: 2300-ish.

Author’s Note: The Reddie Fix-it Future Fic no one asked for. :) Enjoy!

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

Richie Tozier paced back and forth backstage in the theatre at the Venetian Resort as his manager watched him. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Richie muttered.

“Don’t worry, everything is gonna go smoothly,” Brian replied. “You’ll do great. Here.” He handed Richie a glass of what looked like vodka on the rocks.

Richie took a sip and grimaced. “What the fuck is this?”

“Black cherry Vitamin Water,” Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie’s childhood best friend and boyfriend of two years, replied from behind him. “You need to stay hydrated and get your vitamins in. This is the last stop of your tour, I’m not going to let you get sick right when you get a break to come home.”

Richie grumbled but took another sip as Eddie moved in front of him. The things I do for love, he thought.

He could tell Eddie was scrutinizing his outfit. Richie had chosen dark-washed jeans, a black T-shirt, and an olive green suit jacket for his performance this evening.

Eddie brushed some imaginary lint off of Richie’s jacket before giving him a quick kiss. “You look great, babe.”

“Thanks,” Richie replied. His pocket buzzed and he pulled his phone out. He had a text from his & Eddie’s friend Ben. We’re here and in our seats.

Thank fuck, Richie thought, sending a quick k in response. He was glad that the rest of the Losers Club had made it to Las Vegas. Tonight was an extra-special performance – Not only was this the final show in Richie’s “Off the Rails” tour, tonight was the night that he would… Well. Richie would think about that when the time came so he wouldn’t make himself even more nervous.

The lights dimmed. “Showtime,” Eddie said, taking Richie’s glass from him and giving him one more brief kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, Rich.”

Richie took one more deep breath as he was announced.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier!

Richie stepped out on stage, waved at the audience, and grabbed the microphone. “What’s up, Las Vegas?” he greeted with a smile. “You guys feeling good?”

He grinned at the audience’s reply of cheers and hoots.

“It’s so fucking great to be here with all of you. At least now I’m not the only drunk one in the room.”

He grinned at the audience’s laughter. Interacting with his audience and making them laugh always helped calm him down, so he hoped tonight would be the same.

He continued through his act until he got to the final bit, where he usually talked about his & Eddie’s relationship.

“Alright, so I’m gonna get serious for a moment. As a lot of you probably know, I came out as gay a few years ago. Turns out all the dick jokes I made over the years were not only because I am a dick, but also because I like dick.”

He paused as the audience laughed. Here comes the surprise. “So yeah, anyway, I’ve been out for a few years now and it’s been nice not having to hide my relationship with my boyfriend. He’s here tonight, actually, you guys want to meet him?”

He turned to the wings. Eddie was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head. What the fuck are you doing, he mouthed.

Richie grinned and gestured for Eddie to join him onstage. Come on, Eduardo, get your cute ass out here. “Aww, he’s being shy. Come on, babe, it’s ok.” He turned back to the audience. “He might need a little encouragement. Ladies and gentlemen, my boyfriend Eddie.”

The audience burst into applause and cheers. Richie could hear the rest of the Losers in the front row cheering, “WOO, YEAH EDDIE!”

After what seemed like an eternity Eddie finally stumbled onstage, where a stagehand ran out and handed him a mic. Richie suspected that Eddie had actually been pushed onstage, but the important thing was that he was actually out there.

Eddie gave Richie a look that said, you are in so much fucking trouble when we get back to the hotel tonight. “What’s up, fuckwad?” he said instead.

Richie laughed along with the audience.

“So yeah, everyone, this charming fellow here is my boyfriend, Eddie,” he explained. “We’ve been together for 2 years now but were best friends growing up, so we’ve known each other most of our lives. Although we did forget each other for 27 years – long-ass story, involves rampant homophobia and an evil demonic clown. And that was just Eddie’s mother.“

Richie saw Eddie shoot him an exaggerated glare as the audience laughed. "I kid, I kid,” he continued. “Actually, that title goes to his ex-wife.” He could see Eddie shaking his head at him, but at least there was no heat to it. Thank God Eddie knows most of my act. Richie needed to get through that part without accidentally pissing Eddie off before he got to the reason he brought him out on stage.

“So anyway, yeah, we were best friends growing up, then when we were 13 something changed – for me, anyway.” He chuckled. “I used to joke a lot when we were teenagers about fucking Eddie’s mom, but surprise, the whole time I actually wanted to fuck Eddie. Imagine his relief when he found out that saggy old boobs actually don’t turn me on.

We – along with our four other closest friends – have literally been through hell and back together. Twice, actually.” Richie paused again as the audience laughed some more. “But honestly there’s no one I’d rather have by my side in this insane thing called life than this motherfucker. So –” He broke off and turned towards Eddie, digging in his pocket and pulling out the small square box he had been hiding for the past month. He opened it and got down on one knee as a collective gasp rang throughout the theatre. “Eddie, my love, will you make me the happiest man alive by becoming my husband?”

Eddie, who had gasped and taken a step back when Richie had knelt, started nodding tearfully. “Fuck yes,” he said into his mic, then dropped it as he pulled Richie to his feet and into a kiss, burying his fingers into Richie’s shaggy hair.

(Richie had thought when he and Eddie first officially got together that Eddie would nag him to cut it, but it actually turned out that Eddie really liked both Richie’s hair and the noises Richie would make when Eddie would tug on it. Who knew that his Eddie Spaghetti had a hair-pulling kink?)

The audience went nuts, but Richie didn’t hear any of the noise. All he was focused on was his fiance. Fiance, sweetheart, betrothed, HUSBAND, Richie’s brain supplied helpfully.

He pulled the ring, which was a simple platinum band, out of the box and slid it onto Eddie’s finger, pulling Eddie into an embrace. “I fucking love you,” he mumbled against Eddie’s neck.

“I fucking love you too,” Eddie replied. “So fucking much.”

Richie gave Eddie another kiss before turning back to the audience. “In case you guys didn’t catch that, he just agreed to put up with my bullshit for the rest of our lives.”

He wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist. “Now if you guys will excuse us, we’ve got some celebrating to do. Thank you all for being a part of this with me, you’ve been a fucking fantastic audience. Good night!”

He and Eddie walked backstage to thunderous applause, where Bill, Mike, Ben, and Beverly were waiting for them.

“Oh my God, what the fuck are you guys doing here?” Eddie exclaimed. “I thought we weren’t seeing you until Friendsgiving next month.”

“We couldn’t miss our best friends getting engaged, could we?” Mike replied.

Beverly wrapped them both in a hug. “Congratulations, you two!”

“Thanks, Bev,” Richie replied. “Great to see you guys. Thanks for coming.”

Eddie turned to Bill and slugged him on the arm. “You fucker! I just talked to you on Wednesday and you said you were going to Atlanta for a film shoot this weekend.”

Bill just shrugged and patted both of them on the back. “Congrats, guys.”

“Yeah, congrats,” Ben echoed.

“It’s about time one of you put a ring on it,” Mike added.

“Shit, that’s right, your ring.” Richie picked up Eddie’s hand and gently twisted the ring off his finger. “I wanted you to see – I had it engraved on the inside.” He handed the ring to Eddie, who held it up to the light.

R + E

Eddie looked back up at Richie with a smile. “30 years later and you’re still carving our initials into things.” He pulled out his phone. “Hang on just a second.” He sent out a quick text message, then tucked his phone back into his pocket.

Richie grinned before taking the ring and sliding it back onto Eddie’s finger. “You know, this might be personal bias talking but I think platinum looks a lot better on you than gold,” he said, referencing Eddie’s wedding ring from his first marriage.

Eddie smiled back at him softly. “Yeah you know, I think so too.”

They were interrupted by a stagehand. “Excuse me, Mr. Kaspbrak, here’s your coat that you asked for.”

Richie raised an eyebrow. “Jeez, Eds, are you in that big of a hurry to get back to the hotel to celebrate our engagement? Because you know, the limo is pretty roomy, we could start early.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, digging in the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled something out but kept whatever it was concealed in his hand. He handed Bill his coat. “Here, Bill, would you hold this for a minute? Thanks.”

Eddie took Richie’s hand. “I have something to tell you.”

“Oh my God, are you pregnant?” Richie asked jokingly.

“Jesus, Richie. Just shut the fuck up for a second.” Eddie shook his head fondly. “Anyway, I wanted to show you something as well, something… something I’ve been carrying since the day after my divorce from Myra was finalized.”

He opened his hand to reveal a platinum band very similar to the one currently resting on his finger.

He handed it to Richie. “Check the inside.”

Richie examined the inside of the ring and caught a glimpse of an engraving. He tilted it to inspect it further.

E + R

His jaw dropped and his eyes flicked back over to Eddie, who was watching him with pure love in his eyes.

Eddie took the ring back. “I was planning on asking you to marry me at Friendsgiving.”

“Yes,” Richie blurted. His brain seemed to had gone offline again.

Eddie laughed. “Well considering you beat me to proposing and we’re now engaged I’d assume that would’ve been your answer, dumbass.”

Suddenly an idea struck Richie. “Hey Eds, since we are in Las Vegas, elopement capital of the world, what do you think about getting hitched tonight?” He gestured at their rings then at the rest of the Losers Club. “I mean we both have rings and the most important people in our lives are already here.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie replied.

Fuck, I guess not. “Well, yeah, but you know what actually, nevermind, it was a stupid fucking idea anyway–”

Eddie was nodding his head. “–Shit, Rich, yes. Fucking YES, I’d marry you right this fucking second if we could make it happen,” Eddie replied.

Richie’s heart swelled with relief. “Well okay then, let’s fucking do this.”

Mike had pulled out his phone and was scrolling through it. “The marriage license bureau is open until midnight,” he read off, “so if you guys want to you can go ahead and apply online for a marriage license on the way there.”

“Ben and I rented an SUV while we’re in town, so we can all ride together if you guys want,” Bev offered.

Richie was already texting Brian so he could get a press release together. “Yeah that sounds great, just give us a minute to grab the rest of our stuff from the green room and cancel the limo that Brian had lined up to take us back to the hotel. Eddie hated it anyway, said it was pretentious.”

“That’s because it is fucking pretentious,” Eddie muttered.

“Ok, Beverly and I will go get the car and meet you guys out back?” Ben asked, taking Bev’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I’ll come with,” Bill said.

“Me too,” Mike added.

Richie nodded. “Ok, we’ll see you guys in a few then.”

He and Eddie headed back to the green room and gathered the rest of their things.

“That’s everything, right?” Eddie asked him.

Richie looked around. “Uh, yeah, I think so.”

“Ok, good.” Eddie turned towards the door.

“Eds, wait a second,” Richie said quickly.

Eddie turned back towards him. “What is it, Rich?”

Richie bit his lip. “Are you sure you want to go ahead and get married tonight? I don’t want you to feel rushed into anything just because everyone’s here.”

Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sure. We wasted so much time dancing around our feelings as kids, I spent the next 27 years feeling like half of myself was missing and not knowing why, then when we reconnected I was almost impaled by a fucking monster clown-spider, so yeah. I’m not putting anything else with our relationship off in case some other crazy shit goes down.” He smirked. “Besides, I want to spend the rest of my life annoying the shit out of my husband and the sooner I can do that the better.”

Richie grinned. “And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life annoying the shit out of my husband.”

Eddie tugged him towards the door with a wink. “Then we better get going.”

#it: chapter two #it: chapter 2 #it: ch 2 #Reddie #richie x eddie #fix-it fic #tcmf writes #My writing #i love reddie so much y'all #these boys give me feels

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thrashton · 6 years

Text

Soaring light (chapter 1)

thank you for your lovely comments and messages for the prologue!! here’s the first chapter!

Name: Soaring Light

Fandom: Skam france

Pairing: Lucas Lallemant/Eliott Demaury

Tags: assassin!au, falling in love, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Do not get attached, do not waste time, do not engage in any physical contact… The list of rules were long, but Lucas had never been the one to follow orders. In fact, he might have broken all of them in just a week, all because of the piercing blue eyes staring at him from the assignment in his hands, and the charming, mysterious boy they belonged to.

Chapter summary: Lucas tries to be very subtle as he online-stalks Eliott. It doesn’t go too well.

——--

(prologue can be found at the soaring-light tag at my blog, just click on the tag on this post. tumblr don't wanna show my post in the search tag if I put in links... and on ao3 with the username thetimeisnow)

CHAPTER ONE Why were storms a thing? Who invited storms? Lucas was going to find out and kick his ass. It was stupid, the rain covering his sight was stupid. The way he can’t see in front of the road he’s driving on was stupid.

The whole day was stupid.

Lucas had spent five hours trying find Eliott Demoury, but there was no one at his apartment, no one at his registered working place and no one at his two favorite coffee shops. He had googled his name and regretted it in a second, because dousins - no, hundreds - of model photos of the perfectly sculptured face and the piercing deep blue eyes stared back at him and Lucas had let his laptop fall close with a groan.

He can’t be attracted to his assignment to kill. Well, technically, he could. It wasn’t in the rules. The contract just said he wasn’t allowed any physical contact with his targets, mostly to hide all traces of DNA. And to make sure he didn’t get attached, which was another rule. Well fuck him, just the picture of this man got his knees weak.

Lucas hesitated a moment, then sent a text.

To: Manon D.

Change?

Change of contract, that meant. Manon would know that. In their work of line you had to keep yourself short and never, absolutely never, give out any information over the phone. Especially not their private phone. Lucas knew he’d most likely get his brains blown out if he said too much and he would never risk one of his closest friends and colleagues life as well. His phone buzzed. Manon, quick with a response as always.

From: Manon D.

No thanks, got my dream man ;)

To: Manon D.

Ugh. Fine. Drinks tonight?

From: Manon D.

That’s a yes, thanks. I’ll tell Mika and Emma. See you at 8?

To: Manon D.

Lol, sure. Bringing the boys if they’re up. See you, sunshine.

From: Manon D.

Dickhead.

Lucas rolled his eyes. His ever the lovely friend and colleague, Manon. They had worked in the same business for two years before they realised they were both carrying the same burden. They had been on the same funeral, a funeral for an older man whose two sons were the target of Manon, and his new wife was assigned to Lucas. He remembered it like it was yesterday as they stood gaping, staring at each other in the church when the priest did his thing.

A smile appeared on his lips at the memory. Back then, it had been the shock of his life but now it was a fun thing to remind him how small the world was. They were going to meet at their usual bar, and Lucas had actually seen a few pictures of the blue eyed God in just that bar when he googled his name, so maybe his luck would turn tonight. He could use that as an excuse to get pissed drunk.

Perfect. Just what he needed.

He parked his car exceptionally well considering the storm raging outside. It was only 6pm, but the sky was pitched black. He gave the car window a good, long stare before he forced himself to get the door open. The few meters from the car to the door of the building he lived in felt like a mile and his clothes was drenched in rain as he stumbled inside, muttering angrily to himself.

Stupid ass weather. He was going to kick its ass.

His older neighbour greeted him from the stairs and Lucas threw up his hand in a reply, he didn’t really feel like speaking until he was in comfortable, warm, dry clothes. And a beer in his hand. Maybe a joint between his lips. Ah. Perfect.

Pulling on his sweatpants like his life depended on it, he hurried towards his bed. Where the magic happens, as his best friend Yann dramatically put it when he visited Lucas new apartment for the first time. Well, where his hand happened. Or, another correction, where his hand was supposed to happen. But how no matter how much he tried, what type of porn he put on, he couldn’t get those stupid fucking blue eyes out of his head long enough to concentrate on jerking off, and there was no way he was going to pleasure himself thinking of his next assignment to kill.

Fucking hell.

Eliott really got the best of him. He needed to get rid of this guy fast, so he could get back to his normal routines, so his body could see some hot, big tits chick on his phone screen and think that’s hot! and not but it’s not him. How was this even possible? He hadn’t even met the guy!

In conclusion, his visit to the bed was unsuccessful. Lucas groaned loudly, burying his face in his pillow. He couldn’t wait to get drunk. A week from now Eliott would be dead and Lucas would be rich and he’d get the fuck out of Paris. He’d bring Yann, Basile and Arthur and they’d go to Amsterdam, or something. Find a nice penthouse apartment where they could throw the best parties in Netherlands, bring the best people and smoke a ridiculous amount of weed.

Lucas phone rang. He glanced over at the screen the name of his best friend staring back at him. Yann would know if he ignored him, that guy could read him like a book.

“Yep”, he answered as he put the phone to his ear.

“We going out tonight?”

“Uh-uh. Manon, Mika and Emma too.”

Yann went quiet for a moment. “Emma?”

“Dude. It was years ago, pull it together.” He gave out a light chuckle.

“Fine”, Yann sighed loudly, “only so you get get your lonely ass out there.”

Lucas laughed at him and got up to a sitting position on his bed. “Do you know a Eliott Demuary?” he asked. That wouldn’t hurt, Yann didn’t know he did for a living. Lucas wanted to tell him badly, but he wasn’t going to risk his best friend’s life only to have someone to talk murder with, that would be dumb. Yann wasn’t stupid though, and Lucas suspected he had a slight suspicion of what he did during his days; not that he’d ever tell him, or that Yann would ever get it confirmed.

“Of course”, Yann replied and Lucas almost choked on his own spit.

Okay. That wasn’t the answer he expected at all. It took a few moment for him to pull himself back together and hide the sudden excitement in his voice as he tried to sound as carefree as possible. “Aha”, he said and shrugged, “how’s that?”

“Why are you asking?” Yann was hesitating.

Fuck. Maybe he didn’t sound as carefree as he thought. “You know, just saw a picture of him.”

“Yeah, he went to our school…”

Lucas frowned. “What? No?”

He imagined Yann nodding from the other line. “Yeah, he did. Literature, I think, not sure. Don’t you remember, everyone was talking about him?”

Lucas did definitely not remember, because there was no way he could forget a face like that. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah!” Yann exclaimed, “are you? Ladies were fighting to get into his pants.”

“Shit.” How did he manage to miss this? Lucas shook his head, no, it didn’t matter. Now he had a way in to complete his assignment and he should be very happy for that since Eliott apparently didn’t want to be found. “Cool. Awesome. Nice. I mean, have you met him recently?”

Yann was silent for a moment. “Are you crushing on Demuary?”

Lucas gasped. “Excuse me? I am not!”

“I don’t blame you. He’s hot and- Oh, sorry, forgot you’re still hiding in the closet.”

Lucas pouted and wished Yann was standing in front of him so he could shove a middle finger up his face. Yann knew he was - or maybe was? He wasn’t really sure himself - gay. A little gay. Just a tiny little bit. Like, dick is nice and all and titties isn’t as nice. Which, in conclusion meant; a little gay. “Unfair”, he told him, “was just asking.”

He could hear Yann moving around. “Well, haven’t met him in a while but I’ve seen him in town a few times. Seriously Lu-Lu, you didn’t know he went to our school?”

“I didn’t, I swear! I wouldn’t forget a face like that. I mean, Yann, have you seen him?”

His best friend laughed. “Yeah, I have. How about you spend some time crying over a picture of Eliott and I come over with some beer?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great. I’ll be over in 45.”

Lucas ended the call without saying good bye. He had no time to waste when he only had 45 minutes to google some more information about this mysterious man, who apparently went to their school. Did that mean Eliott knew who he was? No, that would be impossible. If he hadn’t seen Eliott, Eliott hadn’t seen him.

He found an instagram account. With a stupid fucking riddle to solve. It took Lucas longer than he chose to admit to figure out the name of Eliott’s second account, but when he did; it was absolutely worth it. A majority of his posts were black and white art. It looked like doodles but there was real talent behind it.

Too bad he was going to kill the guy, he would really want to hear the stories about the numerous posts of raccoons. A short video caught his attention; Eliott in a black hoodie, staring into the camera with his lips pressed together and his hair in a soft mess on his head. He zoomed slowly until there was nothing else than his left eye covering the screen. Lucas found himself sighing, feeling like an absolute jerk about having to end this, clearly well liked and talented young man’s life.

Most of Lucas’ targets were old men. Rapists, embezzlement criminals or other scandals more often than not involving money. He’d never really felt bad about killing them, a lot of them deserved to die. Lucas never stayed to see if his job was finished after poisoning his targets; he learned early on that it was way easier to get caught that way. Instead, he showed up a few days later, or watched the news if his target was someone famous or well-known.

But Eliott. He couldn’t believe this man had done anything to deserve to die. 50k was a lot of money and the higher the prize, the worse the crime. That’s how it usually went, anyways.

And in that moment, trying to pause the video just when Eliott zoomed in on his eyes, Lucas fucked up. He liked the video. Panicking, he yelped, a high pitched noise he’d be embarrassed to even try to describe, and got up from his bed fast enough to make his vision blur. As a first reaction his brain thought of the brilliant idea to throw the phone away from him to keep him from making more mistakes, but then he realised that shit, he need to unlike the video before Eliott noticed. He stumbled after the phone, tripping over a shirt on the floor and hit his toe in the foot of the bed at the same time. Ignoring the pain radiating through his body, he reached over the bed in panic and clicked on the red heard so fast and intensely that he accidentally disliked and liked it again.

Lucas wanted to scream. With an surprisingly steady hand, he finally managed to to unlike the video and sank down on the floor with a loud groan of disappointment. Shit. What the hell. Being subtle wasn’t his best personality trait, obviously.

Eliott had a lot of followers, someone liking his video wouldn’t matter, right? That was, of course, if his theory that Eliott didn’t know who he was, was correct. Lucas considered blocking him but quickly threw that idea aside; the video was worth seeing a few more times.

The doorbell rang. Yann. Had it been 45 minutes already? Apparently it had, because Yann was standing with a big grin and beer in both hands as Lucas opened the door, still sweaty and his heart beating like crazy in his chest.

“You look like you just ran a marathon. Which I know you wouldn’t.”

“Fuck you”, Lucas smirked at him, giving him a helping hand with the beer. “I accidentally liked one of Eliott Demaury’s posts on instagram. It was stressful.”

Yann let out a snort. “When he sees it, he’ll show up with flowers and a ring and propose right here, I’m calling it.”

“I unliked it. And liked it again. And then unliked it again.”

“Even I am slightly embarrassed for you now”, Yann laughed, “let’s drink to forget about it.”

Lucas smirk grew, it sounded like a good plan. Little did he know, forget about it was the least he would do that night.

#skam france #skam france fanfic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #soaring light #elu #elu fanfic #elu fic #skam france fic #yayyyyyyy chapter one

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