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bratkook · 4 years

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not yet. jjk

not yet, almost, right now pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, some angst, pg-13 word count. 4.1k warnings. mentions of infidelity, some feelings come to light, unrequited pining, spur of the moment kissing, light grinding on the dance floor, jungkook pops a boner and wants to cry</3 summary. jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship note. this is based off a request sent a while back for numbers #43 and #67 from this prompt list! (i think this might turn into a small drabble series...mayhaps)

Jungkook can spot your discomfort easily, the occasional colorful light bouncing off your face showing him the flash of anger in your eyes. The only reason he’s not currently running for the hills, knowing very well how mean you can get when angry, is because your glare isn’t being sent at him. Not yet at least.

Because of this, he allows himself to enjoy the cute way your nose scrunches up, lips twisting in displeasure as you stare at the crowd of people, eyes locked onto an unlucky bystander. Honestly, he wishes he could hear your thoughts, wanting to know exactly what has your panties in a bunch, ruining your mood instead of letting you enjoy the expensive fruity drink he had just bought you as payment for allowing him to drag you out of the house. Jungkook isn’t a mind reader though, so he decides on his next best option.

“Who’s got you looking all sour?” he sighs, resting his elbow on the counter of the bar as he inches closer to you, head at your level in an attempt to match your line of sight.

“Him,” you seethe, brows pinching together, showing those light wrinkles in between them, a product of how expressive you were and definitely something Jungkook always teases you about.

Jungkook can only hum in question, eyes squinting in the low light as he attempts to find the him you’re talking about. With a slight turn of your head, you’re inches from Jungkook’s cheek, the obvious look of confusion etched onto his soft features letting you know he was absolutely lost. With a soft huff your fingers are gripping his cheeks and moving his face in the right direction, free hand pointing as discreetly as you could to the man in question.

You know he spots him, you can feel his jaw tense underneath your grip. What you don’t feel is the sudden guilt that fills him up, sloshing in his stomach and mixing with the liquor he just drank until he feels a little queasy. Jungkook instantly regrets coaxing you out of your little dungeon with the promise of cheering you up. If he had known the spawn of satan–dubbed your ex boyfriend and also the reason why you were in a downward spiral–would be here, he would have just let you rot in your bed like you originally wanted.

“Do you wanna go?” he mutters out, cheeks still squished by your slowly tightening grip, and he begins to accept the fact that you might just break his jaw right now. It’s fine, he thinks, he deserves it.

“No,” you grunt stubbornly, fingers finally releasing him as you turn back around and choose to face the endless amount of bottles behind the bar. He may be the reason you were currently on a never ending cycle of watching sad, heartbreaking chick-flicks from the early 2000’s, dumping you with the lame excuse that you two were on different paths and he just wasn’t ready for commitment. It’s something you accepted, albeit jaw tense and eye twitching as you did so, but you figured you would eventually find your way back to each other.

Your mind was warped, believing you were meant to be, that this was just a mere bump in the road that you would laugh at together in the future.

That is, until he blocked you on all social media, and you had to hear from your best friend that he had moved on days later and was now with some blonde-haired, fresh faced, supermodel-esque woman that you could not get yourself to hate. Instead you took to endlessly scrolling through her instagram while you stuffed your face with milk chocolate and questioned why you had ever convinced yourself that you had a future with him.

“Good, he’s a dick and you shouldn’t let him ruin your night.” Jungkook grumbles, slinging his arm around you as you hold your forgotten drink by your lips. He had seen your relationship with Hajoon play out from the very beginning, knowing slightly more intimate details than he would like considering you were next door neighbors and happened to share a wall between your bedrooms.

The friendship you had with Jungkook blossomed right after you moved in four years ago, friendly neighborly talks morphing into actual conversations, and eventually inviting each other into your apartments where you would attempt to beat him at any game you had in your Nintendo switch. It was a great dynamic, providing the two of you with a sense of relief after your busy days at work.

Unfortunately, the second you got with Hajoon was the end of any of those playful matches, your ex’s jealousy making you distance yourself in an attempt to keep your relationship at bay.

Jungkook can’t say he didn’t see it coming, having heard the way you’d cry anytime you had an argument and your ex would leave, slamming the door behind him so hard Jungkook’s walls would rattle. It had become such a common occurence it was a shock he hadn’t marched out of his house, met Hajoon in the hall, and gave him a clean right hook in your honor.

He was secretly hoping you’d break up with the jerk for your own good–and maybe for his own personal reasons too. Your ex was right in being wary of Jungkook, knowing the way a boy's mind worked, sensing Jungkook’s feelings for you in a way you were too blind to see. Jungkook wasn’t a dick though, he could tell you wanted your relationship to work so he kept his distance.

When weeks went by without the sight of him he began to think you finally did it, a call for celebration that made him want to go over to your place to challenge you for a friendly match of Mario Kart like you used to.

Until he ran into you in the hall and took note of what a mess you were, his smile falling from his face when he saw how defeated you looked.

Your shameful confirmation that you had been royally dumped made his heart twist for you, his selfless tendencies urging him to help you feel better in any way he could. You were thankful for it, grateful that he was keeping you company while you moped around, providing you with just the right amount of distraction to allow you to breathe and slowly heal.

Honestly, today would have been just another day if it wasn’t what was supposed to be your two year anniversary. The second Jungkook heard the telltale sounds of The Notebook starting up in your bedroom—something he hadn’t heard through the drywall separating your rooms in weeks—is when he knew something was up.

Jump to: now.

With Jungkook looking sheepish and wishing he had chosen another bar, and you gripping the cup so hard it was a shock it hadn’t shattered in your grasp.

“He’s with her,” you whisper out harshly, head downcast, swirling the liquid around in your glass as you force yourself not to look back at them. The vision of them coddled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around his while she laughed at whatever he whispered in her ear had stung enough the first time, you weren’t jealous but the pain still lingered inside of you..

“Just try to ignore him. Don’t let it bother you,” he attempts to reassure you, the bass of the music muffling the way you try to deny the fact that you’re clearly upset, his attention now elsewhere.

Jungkook takes a chance and looks back once more, eyes narrowed as he searches for Hajoon in the crowd. He spots him with more ease the second time, seeing the way he lazily drinks from his glass while the blonde rests her head on his shoulder, lips moving as she tells him something that makes him smile.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook chokes, eyes widening slightly in shock when Hajoon meets his gaze. He’s been caught, too late for him to avert his eyes and pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring. He can only give him a tight-lipped smile that he hopes doesn’t come across as an invitation to come say hello.

“What?” you question, turning to stare at Jungkook and seeing the look on his face, doe eyes swirling with a mix of emotions.

“He saw me,” he speaks through clenched teeth, lips barely moving as he does so, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“What?” you repeat harshly, setting the drink back down as your palms grow clammy, finger tugging at your shirt’s neckline when the air becomes thick and stuffy.

“Oh fuck, he’s coming.” Jungkook throws back the remainder of his drink, grimacing at the burn lingering in the back of his throat before placing the cup down. “Just follow along,” he whispers into your ear, standing tall as Hajoon approaches the two of you.

He’s ballsy, Jungkook will give him that, more so when he completely ignores Jungkook in favor of calling out your name.

“Y/N, oh my god is that you?”

Jungkook can’t stop the way he glares at the bastard, not even the small jab to his side that you deliver with your elbow is enough to wipe the look off his face. Still, you pause to breathe, shutting your eyes briefly before plastering a look of surprise on your features as you turn around to face him.

“Hajoon, what are you doing here?” Your voice has risen a few octaves, pitch surpassing the normal customer service voice and entering unhinged and borderline crazed territory. Hajoon doesn’t notice though, and neither does the girl strapped to his side, the two of them smiling at you and not giving Jungkook a glance.

“Oh, we’re just celebrating our four month anniversary.” The girl finally speaks up, giving Hajoon a kiss to the cheek and completely missing the way your face instantly falls. Her innocent statement has you coming to the sudden realization that this son of a bitch had been cheating on you for the last two months of your relationship.

Jungkoon spots it easily though, can sense the way your body tenses up beside him, no doubt will the rage flare up in the form of hot tears spilling over and onto your cheeks soon. One look at Hajoon’s pleased face is enough to not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the way he affects you.

“Young love,” Jungkook sighs, long arm pulling you into his side obnoxiously, seeing the way Hajoon eyes the two of you carefully. “I can relate. We’ve been together for...what is it again babe, five months?”

Hajoon doesn’t even attempt to be discreet, eyes bulging out and fist curling at his side. He had hated Jungkook the second he met him, intimidated by his physique and the way he made you laugh with ease, threatened by him in every sense. It was the reason he told you to cut ties with him, his fragile ego not trusting your neighbor, fully convinced all Jungkook would have to do was beckon you over for you to leave him.

Any man would feel threatened by him, just looking at him now with his long hair framing his face, the challenging glimmer in his eyes as he gauges the other’s reaction. Hajoon follows Jungkook’s arm, seeing how it snakes around your body and settles with his palms curling around your waist, fingers gently squeezing your skin.

Jungkook chuckles when Hajoon meets his gaze once more, free hand adjusting the yellow tinted sunglasses perched on his head—something that should make him look like an A class douchebag, because who the hell brings shades to a fucking club. But like all things, Jungkook makes it work.

All of this tied in with that small, white lie, makes Hajoon’s head spin in a jealous whirlwind. It was fine and dandy if he cheated on you but how dare you give him the same treatment, with your neighbor of all people.

“Five months?” He bites first, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of you.

The insecurity is written all over his face, it almost makes him shrink in size and for some reason it fills you with confidence. You stand taller now, sliding your own arm around Jungkook’s side as you nuzzle into him.

“Almost six.” Those two words are the nails into his coffin of insecurity, probably increasing his trust issues for years to come, but considering it was no longer your problem, you don’t care.

“Wow, almost half a year. That’s so cute, isn’t it?” His girlfriend coos, perfectly manicured hand placed over her chest, totally missing the way Hajoon looks like a kicked puppy.

Now that he doesn’t have the one up, he’s no longer interested in sticking around, the gross green monster perched on his shoulder laughing at his misfortune.

“Adorable,” he grunts out. “We should get back to our table. It was nice seeing you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking away, his girlfriend giving you a small wave before following behind him. The growing distance between you makes your muscles relax, sagging in relief as you release Jungkook’s side and hunch over the sticky bar.

“I think I'm gonna puke,” you groan out, eyes going crossed when you feel Jungkook rest two fingers against your lips, sending him a questionable stare.

“Please don’t, that drink was expensive. You’re only allowed to hurl as the grand finale of the night, and we’re just getting started.”

Jungkook smiles when you shut your eyes and groan, your mood was already down in the dumps, and despite the small rush you got from putting Hajoon in his place, you were still craving the comfort of your bed. “Can we go?”

The bartender proceeds to place a glass of water in front of you, assuming your slumped state was due to intoxication and not the gross remnants of running into an ex-boyfriend. You grab the glass regardless, taking a big gulp of the cool liquid and sighing when it helps calm you down.

“If you really want to go we can, but at least try to loosen up.” His smile is genuine, cheeks pushed out as he looks down at you with kind eyes. “We’ll stay on the opposite side, and if you’d still rather watch the Notebook for the millionth time, we can do that.”

With a half-hearted groan you nod, allowing Jungkook to order another round of drinks for you to enjoy before eventually dragging you out onto the dance floor. He knows how to keep the atmosphere up, goofy smile on his lips as he bobs his head along to the loud beat, hands clasped with yours and wiggling in time to the music.

“You love this song,” he manages to say through the noise, pulling you closer as he settles into a spot on the decently packed floor. You couldn’t even deny it, he heard just how often you played it through the paper thin walls. That playlist full of hit 2000’s songs was your guilty pleasure, and it was the main reason he had decided to bring you to this club on their themed night.

Jungkook was attentive, he knew so much about you and played it off casually, always listening to things you say you enjoy, storing them into a folder labeled under your name and shoved into a very important part of his brain.

You knew he was trying his best to get you to enjoy yourself, so you give in, beginning to sing along to the lyrics of an old song that brought back a flood of memories that made you smile back at him. Jungkook feels the first burst of success bloom inside him, joining in with your singing, raising up your clasped hands as you begin dancing.

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he stares down at you, the few drinks you’ve had loosening you up and allowing you to push the earlier thoughts away. He feels mesmerized, eyes locked onto you, the flash of colors painting your skin, illuminating you in alternating shades of purple and blue. His heart does that annoying thing where it skips and stutters in his chest, mouth drying up as you drop your head back and sway your hips, slowly loosening the grip in your hands and turning around until your back is dangerously close to his chest.

Jungkook’s hands hover in the air for a moment, panic over taking his brain as he tries to remain calm. He could do this—he has done this before—the two of you would go clubbing before you got with your ex, and dancing definitely played a big part of it. So why was his brain short circuiting?

Sure your ass was brushing up against his crotch with each sway of your hips, but you were dancing, so his mind and his dick could fuck right off. He shakes his head to clear any dirty thoughts as his hands loosely grip your hips, testing the water, and when you smile and look back at him he feels less wary and sways his hips in time with yours.

You can feel his chest brush against your back, breath fanning along your skin from his close proximity, only getting closer when you lift an arm back and hold his shoulder to pull him tighter against you. The heat sticks to your skin, thin shirt dampening with sweat from the warmth of the bodies around you, everyone in their own state of drunkenness as the bass flowed through their chests.

Going out like this had been something you missed, used to frequenting the bars and clubs by your apartment with your friends and Jungkook, something that came to a halt because your ex claimed he hated that kind of scene. Something that was clearly a lie considering he was here now, enjoying himself as him and his new girlfriend danced along.

You didn’t realize when he made his way onto the dance floor, enough distance separating you, but now that you had spotted him you feel like he’s way too close for comfort. In a similar position to you and Jungkook, Hajoon is free to look around while his girlfriend dances on him, eyes locked onto you with a smirk that makes your skin crawl.

Jungkook is too lost in the music to notice where your attention has gone, earlier effects of the alcohol settling into his bloodstream, warming him up in that familiar way he welcomes. When the song changes, flowing into the next bass heavy anthem, you turn around in his grasp, giving him a brief glance before your hands are gripping his cheeks and bringing him down into a messy kiss.

This is definitely something he’s never done with you before.

A muffled sound of confusion is swallowed by you as he quickly falls into the motion, large palms gripping your hips, slowly sliding up your back before lightly tangling into your hair to deepen the kiss. Jungkook can taste the liquor on your tongue, mixing with his own as your tongue slips between his lips. He has no idea what came over you but his racing heart and buried crush don’t let him question it, soft lips smacking with yours, not heard between the thrumming music.

Your fingers feel the warmth of his cheeks, how he blushes into the kiss but you attribute it to the alcohol pumping through him. Harsh breaths fan across your face as he groans, lightly pulling back for a gasp of air but you don’t allow it. “No, don’t pull away. Not yet.”

And who is he to argue with that, blindly letting you bring your lips back together in a messy kiss. Your small pleas for him to continue has all the blood rushing to his cock, the ache felt in his jeans when it starts to harden, pressing into the denim uncomfortably and only getting worse when you gently bite down onto his lip before inching back.

“Is he still looking?” you question, breath jagged as you peer up at Jungkook’s dazed expression.

“What?” he dumbly replies, lips swollen and shiny, eyes still focused on your own as he makes an attempt to reconnect your lips. But then your question dawns on him, like a bucket of ice cold water, it sobers him up instantly. Is he still looking?

This was all for show.

“He’s on the far right.” You motion your head in the direction and observe his face when his eyes move over to check if Hajoon was in fact still there. He does spot him heading out in a hurry though, girlfriend trailing behind him as he exits the club entirely

“No, just saw him leave.” Jungkook clears his throat, fingers slipping out of your hair and settling down over your back just like before. He hopes his solemn expression isn’t amplified by the lights flashing across his face, trying his best to act unaffected, as if he didn’t just pop a boner on the dance floor over a revenge make-out session.

Luckily you don’t spot his fallen expression, a wide smile spreading across your face in victory, happy that you had successfully put him in his place.

“I’m so sorry for kissing you.” You gasp in realization, unknowingly pouring salt in the wound when you act as if kissing him was something you would never do if it wasn’t in an attempt to piss off your ex.

“No, it’s okay,” he waves off and smiles, eyes glancing over to the bar once more. Jungkook needed a drink, maybe five—actually he wouldn’t mind going home and watching The Notebook now, that would surely give him a reason to cry with no questions asked.

He starts to walk back to the bar with you by his side, the sad look you had earlier entirely gone, replaced with a giddy smile and a pep in your step, so he can’t say he's too upset.

“God, you should’ve seen how mad he looked when he saw us dancing together,” you giggle, standing inches from him as he orders another drink. Before he can respond, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for a hug.

A hug, really?

Still, Jungkook sighs and wraps his own arms around your waist, a defeated smile on his face that he hides as he lets his chin rest over your head. The dip in his head makes the yellow tinted frames fall over his eyes and when he pulls back you snort at the visual, finger gently poking the bridge of them.

“You look good in those.”

His drink gets placed in front of him then, giving him a good excuse to avoid stumbling over his words from your compliment, choosing to take a gulp of the hard liquor, wincing when it burns his throat. “Thank you,” he rasps out, grimacing at the taste and it just makes you giggle.

“I should be thanking you. You need to be my fake boyfriend more often.”

Even more salt poured into his wound, topped with a dash of lemon juice in the form of your playful smile and nudge to his ribs, it stings. His heart ache in his chest, more so when he realizes his stupid boner was still going strong. Thankfully the dark lights prevent you from seeing it, the last thing he needed was further embarrassment.

The yellow frames are placed back over his head as he takes another sip, nodding along to your statement with what he hopes comes across as a genuine smile on his lips once he sets his cup down. “Anytime you want Y/N.”

“I know this night didn’t end with the grand finale of me puking, but do you wanna go home and watch movies? No sappy romance ones, I'm not in the mood for crying anymore.”

He finishes his drink with ease, quickly closing his tab as he agrees. “Yeah, just let me go to the bathroom real quick.”

You might not be in the mood for crying but he definitely was; he also needed to handle the situation in his jeans, and what better night to stoop this low than tonight. His own version of a grand finale coming in the form of jerking off in the dirty bar bathroom while maybe shedding a tear or two.

“Okay! I’ll call an uber,” you announce cheerfully, allowing him to walk away as you settle onto one of the sticky bar stools.

Jungkook’s chest feels heavy as he walks to the bathroom, slipping into the small room and locking the door behind him. His forehead rests against the dirty door, eyes falling shut with a groan. He wishes he had the guts to confess to his crush, needing to push the fear of ruining the friendship away from his mind, wanting to gather possible clues that could indicate that you might feel the same.

One day, but not yet.

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #new

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

“What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.”

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #wolfstar #harry potter #gossip girl #Harry Potter x gossip girl #sirius black #remus lupin #cw: mention of sex #cw: drinking #cw: drugs #Harry Potter fic #the marauders #the marauders era #Harry Potter au #woflstar au

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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Long Story Short (3/3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Modern AU)

Description :

Long story short, it was the wrong guy Now I'm all about you I'm all about you

Word Count : 2.2k words

Warning : fluff, ex Steve, Bucky Barnes my beloved, Just Bucky being an amazing partner

Bucky Barnes does not do relationships. Well, to put it in better words; Bucky Barnes did not do relationships until he met you. As a marriage counselor, he had advised many couples to just get a divorce, and even though he had saved a lot of marriages, the bad ones always hurt him more. To be the person to witness unhappy couples was not the best profession. But again, to be the person to save a marriage or bring back the lost love made his profession the best in his mind.

He did not have hope for a future relationship. He tried dating, it did not work out, and then he became the man who always left after the night and never stayed over. Not only that, but he thought his life would remain the same, and he would become a miserable 60 years old that hated lovesick teenagers and would die in his bed alone.

Bucky’s life changed when he met you on the flight. You, with your obvious shittier life, changed everything for him that weekend. And that was two years ago.

He fell in love and that changed it all, things just started falling into place perfectly like a domino effect going smoothly. He called you the moment you landed and asked you out. Likewise, he was scared that what happened back in his hometown was some sort of escape for you. Luckily, it wasn’t, you said yes and he was ecstatic.

The date went splendidly, you talked about everything from your careers to your embarrassing high school moments that still sometimes haunt you at night. He told you about his family and he came clean about what went down with Dot (She wanted a relationship, he didn’t and then he bolted). It scared you, Bucky was so different, you’ve never been with someone who didn’t plan everything out, but it was exciting nonetheless. He assured you that he wanted a relationship with you because and let's be honest, he was already very smitten.

He thought that was the best weekend of his life. You proved him wrong, every day with you was the best day of his life.

“This is technically our third date,” you suggested.

He gasped, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “This is our first date to me and you’re already trying to get in my pants. Give me some respect, lady.”

You laughed, shoving a hand on his arm playfully, and he held your wrist, bringing your body closer to his. He wrapped his other hand around your waist and leaned down to leave a longing kiss on your lips. “ As much as I would love to stay the night. I wanna do right by you, doll.”

You smiled and leaned in for another kiss, foreheads pressed together, before you jokingly said, “FYI, I have already been in your pants before.”

That was the moment Bucky knew you were the one for him.

***

Alpine fell in love with Bucky quicker than you could. On the fourth date when Bucky finally let you take him home, Alpine came from her hideout in the kitchen and sat on his feet. Alpine never did that with anyone, your friends had told you that you had the most hostile cat ever. Whenever a new person entered your apartment, Alpine either ignored them or attacked them, but with Bucky, she was affectionate.

For you, it wasn’t one moment that made you realize you were in love. Unlike Bucky, you had a lot of issues to deal with before you could give yourself completely to him.

Bucky never judged you, he gave you the time you needed and never pushed you when he was ready to acknowledge he loved you.

Of course, the insecurities were also present, you’d have urges to go throw his phone or stalk everyone he follows on Instagram. You told Bucky, hoping he doesn’t call you crazy, but instead he gave you his phone’s password. Yes, now your face could unlock his phone too. He told you he trusted you, and you were it for him so if that’s what you needed to be sure, he would happily oblige and wait for you.

It took you six months to finally acknowledge your love for him.

When you were working on a divorce case, the wife told you that when her husband walked into a room, she didn’t feel anything. You got lost in her story and told her how when your boyfriend, your Bucky was nearby you felt calm, lighter even. She smiled and told you she would like to have a love like that. And your mind just went, ‘Holy shit, I am in love with Bucky’. After wrapping up for the day, you immediately rushed towards Bucky’s office, you couldn’t wait to tell him about your recent discovery.

You sat across from him at his office, anxiously fiddling with your finger. “Bucky, I need to tell you something important.”

He looked up from the file on his table and closed it before giving you all of his attention. He always did that which made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Go ahead, doll. I’m all ears.”

“I... I need to tell you something important.”

He nodded his head, encouraging you to go ahead.

You exhaled and said, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Bucky studied your features, concern quickly replaced intrigue. This is it, he thought. You’ve realized that he was a rebound and now you were breaking up with him.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I love you.”

You both said at the same time.

“What?” you queried, standing up from your seat and moving towards his chair.

You settled on his lap, cradling him, one of his hands rested on your thigh and the other on your lower back, holding you still on his legs. “What?”

“I love you,” you confessed, taking his cheeks in your palms and you gently pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Say that again,” a grin spread across his face, the corner of his lips almost reached his ears.

“I love you,” you said, beaming with adoration in your eyes.

“God, doll. I love you so much.”

***

After dating for a year, you decided to move in together. Every day with you had been the happiest day of Bucky’s life. It had been exactly two years since you met Bucky and he was so head over heels for you that sometimes he couldn’t even voice it. Maybe that is why he had a velvet box in his pocket, so that he could express his love for you without gathering the courage to say it.

Both of you decided that for your second anniversary, you were going to have dinner in your shared apartment that you made home. You planned to order take out with movies followed by lovemaking, whereas Bucky planned to make you his fiancé by the end of the night - which was also followed by intense lovemaking.

While on his way home, he stopped to pick up your favorite flavor of the cake. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly picked it up without checking who it was.

“Hey, pal,” Steve’s voice greeted him, taking him by surprise. Bucky hadn’t talked to his best mate since - well, since he found out what he did to you. Bucky was furious that he hurt you like that and made you doubt yourself. The selfish part of Bucky was thankful, not for hurting you, but for leaving you because Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you. And hopefully, after the proposal, he wouldn’t have to.

“Steve,” Bucky said. A silence lingered where both of them could hear the other breathing, but none of them knew what to say, if anything was even left to say. Both of them broke the silence together at the same time.

“Peggy and I are getting a divorce.”

“I’m going to propose to Y/N.”

“You what?” Steve asked.

“No, you what?” Bucky countered.

Steve exhaled through the device connecting two old pals and spoke, “Yeah, we tried, but it just didn’t work out. I don’t even know why I went back after the first time. I lost so much by just doing that.”

Both of them were aware of what he was talking about; you. Steve lost you from falling into old patterns with his ex-wife. Steve regretted it. Peggy’s pregnancy wasn’t planned and when she told him, he tied down the knot for the sake of his future family. It took Steve two months to realize that he loved you and not his wife. He didn’t contact you, you asked him not to. The only reason he invited you to his wife’s baby shower was so that he could win you back. He hoped seeing him would make you want him again, but when you walked in with his best friend’s hand in yours, he didn’t know how to react. He had lost you to Bucky of all people and he hated his mate for this, for taking away the best thing in his life.

“Are you sure about her?” Steve questioned, hoping to raise some doubts and second thoughts in his best pal’s mind. He knew that was wrong, but he desperately wanted you back.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Bucky answered dreamily and Steve could feel his heart crack.

Steve should have stopped, he shouldn’t have relented but Steve wasn’t a good man like you thought he was. Good men don’t cheat on women, good men aren’t selfish. “It's gonna change everything between us, pal. Is she worth it?”

“Yes.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate in his answer and hung up the phone instantly. He realized quickly that anything that separated him from you or even tried to was not going to be in his life. Bucky was a possessive man and he would die rather than give up his two best girls, you and Alpine.

***

When Bucky came back, you didn’t expect him to kiss you so feverishly, as if he let you go, he’d lose you. He would never lose you, that you were sure of.

Your anniversary went down as you planned. Eating pizza and talking while the movie became a background noise was peaceful, domestic and everything else you desired. You could spend the rest of your life like this. Just you and him — and Alpine, obviously.

Bucky was hiding something that much you could feel. You both always knew when something was up with the other. A tiny part of your brain panicked that maybe Bucky was cheating on you. He wasn’t; there were no signs, but your brain always mustered up the worst condition as a defense mechanism.

So, when Bucky got down on one knee with a ring in his hand as you were bringing the cake from the kitchen, tears welled up in your eyes. Bucky gently took the cake from you and placed it on your dining table before getting a hold of your hands in his.

“Doll,” he started, and tears were already starting to stream down your face. “ I love you so much that it physically hurts me sometimes. I never thought I would be fortunate enough to be happy, but God, you make me so happy and I can’t even…”

A lump formed in his throat and he tried again, “I had this whole speech planned and now I can’t even get a sentence out without crying. They make it look so easy in those rom coms.”

You chucked, stifling a sob that was threatening to break out. ” Nothing about us has been conventional. I mean, from the way we met to the way I’m proposing, but that is what I like about us. You are already my home, my family, my everything and I would like you to be my wife too. So, Y/N Y/L/N, would you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me? ”

“Yes! God, yes, Bucky.” you beamed, holding his palm tightly, supporting him to stand up. He situated the ring on your finger before claiming your lips in his. He kissed you with so much passion and adoration that you felt that even if the earth swallowed you whole at that moment, you still wouldn’t mind. You’ll be glad because you got the opportunity to know and love a man like Bucky.

After the very anticipated and passionate lovemaking, you settled your head on Bucky’s chest, limbs tangled together, and his arms wrapped around you, igniting you with warmth and love, so much love.

“Alpine is gonna get mad that I took her man,” you remembered, repeating the words you said all those years ago in a hotel room. You did not know where it was going then but God, you wanted it to go somewhere. Somewhere like this, engaged to him.

Bucky chuckled, reminiscing that night and weekend before pulling you closer, placing a kiss on top of your head and promised, “Alpine is not the love of my life, my future wife, my everything, doll. You are.”

TAGS : @ladydmalfoy @niffala @vicmc624 @leyannrae @priii

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

Text

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’#everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta?#supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

The Last Semester – Part Five

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,888

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

The Age Gap Issue

It has been ten days since you started dating Cillian and things were great, at least mostly.

Over the past ten days, you spent every single night at Cillian’s apartment, enjoying his company. Neither of you even thought about tuning it down, maintaining distance from each other or taking things slow. It was simply too perfect and there was so much you had to talk about. Then there was the sex. The most incredible sex. You couldn’t get enough of each other.

At university, Cillian managed to keep things professional during the group sessions and largely avoided one on one contact with you during classes. Of course, you had questions for him but, unlike the other students, you simply asked them when you were alone with him, often over a glass of wine or over dinner. The arrangement worked well and, thus far, you haven’t arisen any suspicions.

The deadline was near and secrets didn’t have to be secrets anymore for very long. Cillian’s involvement in your unit was going to come to an end in two weeks and the final assessments for the semester were taking place in as little as four weeks. After that, you could be together without having to hide it.

But there was still one thing that you haven’t quite managed to juggle just yet and this was the difference in age between you and Cillian.

While it didn’t bother you at all, you occasionally noticed that Cillian struggled with it, questioning the feelings he was developing for you.

There was one conversation in particular triggering Cillian’s doubts and that was when you brought up your younger step brothers who were 14 and 12, the same age as Cillian’s sons.

Cillian was rather reserved when it came to conversations about his sons Hendrix and Charlie but, the more he got to know you, the more he told you about them.

You loved that he did share these details with you but, at the same time, it made him realise how you were at totally different stages of your lives and that this might pose problems for the future.

As such, whilst Cillian and his ex-wife Laura had a good relationship with each other after having divorced five years ago, bringing a much younger woman into a step family dynamic at some point was possibly a bad idea.

The other issue that he thought might possibly arise is that you would likely want children yourself at some point. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to start all over again.

In addition to these warranted concerns, there were little things as well that made Cillian feel self-conscious about the difference in age and you couldn’t help but tease him about them.

The Grey Hair

For example, the night before Cillian was due to fly to Dublin to see his sons, he became rather self-conscious about his hair turning grey. It had been turning grey for quite some years but, when you met several weeks ago, he had just finished filming his TV show Peaky Blinders. This meant that his hair was short and coloured dark.

Over the period of six weeks, it grew out slowly, featuring some grey streaks which, this time around, he noticed much more than he ever did.

In addition, Cillian was featuring a few grey hairs on his chest as well and it was that evening, when you arrived at his apartment that you caught him coming out of the shower, his intimate parts covered by a white towel and his chest hair…Gone!

‘Whoa’ you said as you walked inside, noticing immediately that he had shaved his chest.

‘What?’ Cillian went on to ask before giving you a kiss.

‘Why did you do this?’ you pouted, running your hands over his bare chest. ‘I loved running my hands through it’ you said somewhat disappointed as you really enjoyed playing with the small amount of hair on his chest when you cuddled up against him.

‘Well…some have turned grey’ Cillian said somewhat reluctantly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘As is expected at your age’ you giggled teasingly before realising what this was all about.

‘Yeah, that really makes me feel better’ Cillian laughed and you pressed your lips onto his for a passionate kiss.

‘I have no idea why you are so self-conscious about a few grey hairs Cilly’ you went on to say, slightly amused.

‘Because you are twenty years younger than me’ Cillian responded and you sighed.

‘Here we go again’ you chuckled before pushing him backwards to sit on the lounge while you stood in front of him.

‘Listen, there are a lot of women younger than me who are very attracted to you’ you said and Cillian recalled the Instagram posts you had showed him a few days ago, which made him shake his head.

‘Also, I really like your grey hair. It’s fucking sexy. You are fucking sexy’ you then went on to say.

‘I am just saying that you could be with someone your own age Y/N’ Cillian responded.

‘And why would I want that?’ you asked. ‘We connect perfectly and you are literally the first person I have ever met with whom I am never running out of conversation. You are intelligent, funny, kind and very handsome. In addition, the sex is fucking amazing. I don’t want anyone else and I want you to let this damn hair grow back’ you demanded all while you seductively unwrapped your dress and revealed your black lace lingerie.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian barely managed to say as you stood there in front of him.

‘I bought it today. For you’ you winked before walking over towards him, kissing him passionately and then unwrapping the towel around him like you were opening a present.

As he sat there in front of you, completely naked, you pulled a pillow from the lounge and put it onto the floor before kneeling down on it, right there in between his legs.

Your mouth opened and you leaned forward just enough to catch the head of his cock between your lips.

‘Fuck, yes’ Cillian swore and you sighed, your eyes fluttered at the feeling of him, fighting to open your mouth wider to take more of him in. He was hot, and you tasted the sweet savory drop of precum that leaked onto your tongue.

Watching Cillian like this was enchanting. You sucked harder, feeling him pulse against your lips and tongue. His eyes widened and he moaned. Oh, you would do almost anything to hear him make that sound. It was an incredible turn on for you. Your tongue swirled around him, flicking the crown and massaging under the head.

‘Oh god Y/N’ Cillian murmured, and he reached for you. You felt his fingers clench in your hair so little prickles of pain burned your scalp. You met his eyes as he pulled your face into his crotch, and his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you kept your eyes on his expression, and watched him fall apart above you.

‘Shit’ Cillian eventually jerked away, wrenching himself out of your mouth. A long trail of spit connected you, and eventually broke, slapping against your chest. You caught your breath.

‘I want you so fucking much’ he growled, his voice strained. He caught you under your arms and helped you to your feet before picking you up and carrying you to his bed.

‘Cillian, please I need you inside of me’ you whimpered and Cillian shoved you against the bed, your back facing him, and you shivered as you felt his hands squeezing at your ass and hips. He stood directly behind you, and you could feel the hair on his legs tickling the backs of your thighs.

‘You almost made me lose it there’ Cillian said as he unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground before quickly pulling down your lace panties.

‘I could tell you enjoyed it’ you grinned as Cillian moved one of your legs with his hands, bending your knees one at a time so you were crouched on the bed. He paused behind you, and you closed your eyes, listening to his ragged breathing, trying to stay calm.

Cillian’s finger traced your slit gently, and you gasped and let out a shaky moan as he dipped into your wetness.

‘So wet for me already’ Cillian smirked and you simply nodded. You couldn't talk. You could barely breathe.

Within seconds, you felt the head of his cock press against you, and then he grabbed your hips, and shoved it inside.

You cried out as he invaded your body. A hot flash of something went through you, and your arms buckled under you as you fell face first into the mattress.

You could hear Cillian behind you, grunting and swearing, holding your hips tightly, his nails biting into your skin. He pulled you back against him roughly, and another hot flash of pleasure shot through your body. You felt like you were going to explode any minute.

‘Y/N’ he growled, and shifted behind you, and then you felt his arm snake around your waist and up to your face. He pulled you up and held your chin firmly with his hand. You could feel his chest pressed against your back, like he was holding you tight against him in a hug as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Oh god Cillian yes’ you moaned as he was dropping his head and caught your neck with his teeth. He bit you gently, and then sucked hard at the bite, thrusting deeper and deeper into you in a way that you still couldn't understand.

‘Open your eyes’ he growled into your ear and your eyes flew open. Across from you was the mirror of the nightstand. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you took in the sight of Cillian buried inside your body, holding you close.

‘Cillian’ you moaned again as your whole body caught fire, and burned, and burned. You saw fireworks behind your eyes and your brain went all staticy.

It could have lasted an hour, or been just a moment in time, but the next thing you knew was that your legs began to shake violently and your walls began to clench around Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your juices squirted onto the wooden floor.

At the same time, Cillian reached his high as well, thrusting into you with several loud groans as he filled you with rope after rope of his warm cum.

‘Jesus that was amazing’ Cillian huffed just before he pulled out of you gently and you both collapsed on the bed together.

‘So, tell me again Cilly, why would I want to be with a younger guy?’ you giggled.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

#Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine

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caramelcal · 4 years

Text

Slow Down

Request(s): Ooooooo could you do a Luke x reader fic based on the song Slow Down by Why Don’t We?

+ Anonymous said:Luke x reader? He’s on tour halfway across the world but all he can think about is spending time with his girlfriend?

Word Count: 2.1k!

a/n: hey! i know that this doesn’t fully cover the second request so if you want something completely based off of that, just request again! Thanks for requesting anyway and I hope you enjoy! Also did you guys see Madi’s lives today??? The cake decorating??? THE COVER?? MY EARS ARE B L E S S E D update: not me forgetting to add tags

Masterlist

Oh, I've been lying to myself and I might know why I miss the way you looked at me before you left New York (hey) I've been tryin' to find help, 'cause I can't deny The way that I feel when I'm with you Oh, I'd do anything to save ya

He could hear the fans screaming in excitement, the overall chatter of them but he couldn’t enjoy it at the moment. How excited they were to see the band. He was filled with nerves, and even though he was born to perform as many would say, he still couldn’t help feeling nervous.

It was no surprise that Julie and the Phantoms had gotten big, their music was amazing. After they played at the Orpheum, they got a lot of recognition and only ten months later they were whisked up on a tour, a new album out only a month ago gone viral. Everyone loved them, and they were finally living their dream.

Luke loved performing, it was second nature to him, but being on tour was very different from playing in the garage with the band like he was used to. So whilst he basked in the glory of the fans, there were still nerves and that’s what he felt right now.

Checking his phone, his foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, his guitar sitting to his right. Normally, playing his guitar would comfort him, but it wouldn’t right now, that’s why he needed you.

And thankfully, his worries that you weren’t going to answer as he heard your calming voice through his phone, “Hello?”

“Babe,” Luke replied, breathing out a sigh of relief when he let the nerves out of his body.

“Luke? Aren’t you supposed to be on stage right now?” You started, and he could hear the worry in your voice, “Is everything alright.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just nervous, that’s all. We’re just about to go on,” Luke informed you, eyes staying on the ground as he simply focused on you and not any of the fuss around him. Backstage concerts were always crazy like this, especially just before they started. No doubt someone would be through in a second to pester him about getting ready to go on stage.

“Luke, babe,” You said, your voice calming as you spoke to your boyfriend. You knew he was going to absolutely kiss it out there, he did every single time he performed, “You’re going to be amazing, okay? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you and the rest of the band. I’ll be cheering you on all the way from California.”

That brought a smile onto Luke’s face, making him bend down his face so he was facing the ground. He didn’t like everyone to know just how in love he was with you, and the beaming smile on his face would be a clear indication. It wasn’t like he was very good at hiding it anyway, he constantly talked about you, somehow managing to praise you like you were a god even if you did a simple task. He was completely and utterly in love with you, no one could deny that.

“Thanks, babe, I miss you so much. I will find time to see you at some point,”

“You better, I miss you too. Plus, who else am I supposed to jam with in the car when you aren't here?” You joked, laughing lightly with Luke.

Luke casts his hazel eyes up to the figure in front of him after catching on to the very professional shoes that stood just in front of him, catching eyes onto his manager, “Listen I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, my rockstar,” You said teasingly, knowing that it always made Luke flustered when you called him that. It wasn’t long before you guys had finished saying goodbye and his phone was turned off and put away, guitar in hand as he was ushered on stage.

Yet, just before he got on stage, he stopped, whispering, “This is for you, y/n/n. I love you.”

And with that, he ran out, and the fans erupted into screams and cheers.

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now

Turns out, that even if Luke did want to meet up, that the tour was far too demanding for that. It was two months since the time you called, and you guys still haven’t had the chance to meet up. Hell, you guys barely had time to facetime. Luke was on constant vocal rest, and the times he normally was available, you were in class.

It was safe to say, the distance, and the different time zones were definitely getting to you. Some people were too, saying how people go off on tours and lose feelings if their girl stays back home, they often find flings and extra stuff like that. You knew Luke wasn’t like that, and both Carrie and Flynn have cussed the girls out for putting that in your head when it was obviously not true, but you couldn’t help but think about it sometimes.

Luke barely picked up your calls anymore, and you knew that what he was doing was very time demanding, but you thought that at least he would make a bit of time for you. You guys did text of course, but you often wouldn’t get around to replying to each other until hours after so it wasn’t a stable conversation. You thought about flying out for a weekend, or taking a few days out of school and flying somewhere to meet him, but your college student finances were not stable enough for that and you didn’t want anyone’s help, not even Carrie’s when she offered.

After being deprived of your boyfriend for so long, you often found yourself wallowing alone in your college dorm, but that wasn’t where you were right now. Flynn and Carrie had somehow managed to drag you outside to a party, a red solo cup in your hand and a fancy top on with some nice jeans. You contemplated drinking but found yourself denying any alcohol that went your way, getting drunk probably wasn’t the most responsible way to go.

Yet, as you saw the couples, some sweet ones holding hands or hugging, and some a little more...heated, you couldn’t help but drown in the thoughts of him. This was supposed to be a distraction from your wallowing, but you felt even more miserable here than you did back in your dorm room. You wouldn’t be for long though, not when you found out who was here.

See ya, I wanna see ya, ah I wish you weren't so far so I could see ya, ah 'Cita, mamacita We were comfortable, we didn't understand but now we know

Two weeks before the party, Flynn found herself on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram before her phone went. She quickly answered, seeing Julie’s face pop up on the small screen with a smile. They talked for a while, just catching up and Julie shared some concert and fan stories before she asked, So how is everyone? Carrie? y/n?”

“Carrie’s doing good, Dirty Candy is slowly getting some recognition for themselves, I see a tour in their future,” Flynn said with a smile, trying to distract Julie from the subject of y/n. She knew that most likely, the boys would be close by, and she did not want to tell them how miserable she was without them. That would only damper their moods.

“That’s so cool! I’m really glad, they deserve it. How’s y/n?” Julie asked, a smile on her face but as she looked at the hesitation on her best friend’s face, she knew something was wrong, “Flynn, is y/n okay?”

However, Flynn quickly found out that her silence was not helping her in any way, and when Julie asked about y/n again, Luke who playing about with his guitar in the corner of the room caught onto her concern. He stood up, alarm flooding his features as he walked over, taking the phone from Julie.

When his face showed up on the video call, Flynn could see his concern and worry and it made her eyes go wide. She knew there was no getting out of this, “What’s up with y/n?”

“Nothing, she’s fine,” Flynn tried her best to dismiss, laughing awkwardly but when she looked back to the camera she could tell that Luke was not buying it.

“Flynn.”

“Really! She’s-”

“Flynn! You do realize this is my girlfriend?” Luke said, raising his voice slightly to get the girl to stop rambling, which she did. Luke was only growing more concerned for his girlfriend and annoyed at the girl for trying to keep something about his girlfriend away from him, “I wanna know what’s going on with her.”

“She’s just,” Flynn hesitates, trying to think of a way to make this easier on Luke without lying to him but she realizes that she needs to be straightforward with the guy. Sighing, she starts, “y/n misses you to the point that she holes herself up in her dorm, and only comes out for food and classes. Hell, she hardly gets out of her pajamas anymore, Luke. She’s taking this a lot harder than she’s telling you.”

Luke went quiet, a frown forming on his face when he realized what his girlfriend was doing. He knew that she couldn’t keep going on like that; he still had another two months left of the tour and she would have wasted months of her life locked in her dorm. He casts a glance towards Julie, before looking back at Flynn, “I’ll sort this out. I’ll send you the details once I work them out but clearly, something needs to change.”

And with that, Flynn hung up and Julie and Luke started to plot a plan...

I think we need a little California 'cation We took a shot at this, but maybe we're too wasted It's hard to swallow, but I know we gotta chase it, oh

Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now Slow down, I think that we just need to slow down, slow down (need to slow down, slow down, whoa) Turn around, things were so simple way before now, 'fore now (things were so simple way before now)

“Y/n!” Carrie calls out, grabbing your attention from the red solo cup in your hand. You look up at her, giving her a small weak smile.

“Hey, Carrie,”

“You enjoying the party?” She asks, hands on her hips as she looks around the room with a smile on her face. She had a fitting golden dress on, much fancier than what you were wearing but you didn’t care.

You tried to wrack your brain for what to say, and how not to offend Carrie about her party. Her party wasn’t bad, you just...didn’t want to be there, “Uhh, it’s alright, yeah.”

“Well it’s about to get a lot better,” Carrie says, a wide smile coming on her face as she looked behind you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You whirled around and saw him take a few steps away, a wide smile on his face. You stood there, shocked, this couldn’t be real, he was on tour. He wasn’t here, he couldn’t be.

But then, you sprinted, jumping into his arms, head leaning against his shoulder with your legs around his waist. He held you close to him, savoring the moments of you just being in his arms; something he had not got to experience in months.

Everyone at the party watched on but didn’t say anything, fond smiles on their faces for the reunited young couple. For you and Luke, however, it seemed as if you two were the only ones in the room, because no one else mattered at that moment.

You pulled your head up from his shoulder, eyes meeting his as the wide smiles that were on your faces only growing wider, never fainter. When you next spoke your voice was quiet, almost as if you believed if you spoke too loudly he would go away, you would realize this was just a dream, “Luke, you- you’re here.”

“I am y/n/n,” He whispered back, nodding his head as he leaned in and softly kissed your hips, your hands going to each side of his face, playing with the soft messy hair that he had. With eyes shut, you stayed in each other’s embrace, simply enjoying the moment, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Don’t leave me for so long ever again, I can’t live my life without you.”

Let's just say, you two were never parted for too long after that.

#luke julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #charlie gillespie #jatp #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms luke #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n

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inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

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1ddotdhq · 4 years

Text

🎤Wed 9 Dec ‘20❄️

LOUIS!!!!!! I am posting this from beyond the dead because Louis’ trailer KILLED MY MIND! But THEN, it brought my body back to life because I HAVE to be around on Saturday to see this show go down. NEW LOUIS SONGS!!!! I AM NOT READY!!! First Eleanor kicked off promo for the livestream day by modeling Louis' purple Balenciaga windbreaker for us with a caption about her “BF”. I mean, it’s a look! No dogs today tho :(. Oddly though after posting herself in the outfit and saying that she was going to go out in the get up, she didn’t! Changed right back into her own clothes after all. Just like how Louis liking her post a few weeks ago was the first sign of action, this too was an indication NEW THINGS COMING! And boy, did they come! After Louis this posted his fifteen (15) second long clip, which included at least one full second each of an as of yet untitled song, KMM, Too Young, Walls, and a badass unidentified riff by Michael Blackwell (POP OFF, dude)! Louis was NOT done there though; fans were wondering what the unfamiliar songs in the trailer were. In what seemed to be a hint, Louis tweeted “copy of a copy of a copy”, which, when googled, turned up with two musical results. The only one that matters is the song ‘Copy of A..’ by Nine Inch Nails (“I am little pieces. Pieces that were picked up on the way, invented with a purpose, a purpose that's become quite clear today”). According to the band, this song is about breaking out of an image that no longer fits you: “How dare you have the audacity to not perform in the role you have been placed in”. Nine Inch Nails has also been really vocal about the importance of artistic freedom and the struggle to maintain it in the face of label interference, which I’m sure Louis can relate to. But! It turned out the untitled song that fans were wondering about isn’t ANY of these, it is, instead a “New song. Not a cover!” according to Louis himself! Let’s be clear: this does not mean that he WASN'T tweeting that lyric about doing a Nine Inch Nails cover, just that the snip in the teaser ISN’T ‘A Copy of A…’. Okay guys, I didn’t say this when the show came up, but now I will: I am IN LOVE with 12/12!! Last year, we got Fine Line on the 12th, and THIS year, we get BRAND! NEW! LOUIS! SONGS!!!!!!! This is one trend that is welcome to keep continuing!

And, for the TRUE piece de resistance: LOUIS’ HAIR! It is long long long, and slightly curly at the ends, and “HIS HAIR” (in all caps) was trending under “Beauty” immediately after the trailer was released. As it SHOULD! It’s BEAUTIFUL! And, in the middle of all of this, we got pictures of Louis from outside his rehearsal studio two weeks ago - OP said he said not to tell anyone about his hair, so they posted them the second after the trailer went up like “well if HE'S showing everyone..' They also scribbled out his hand. People asked does he have a new tattoo?? A ring?? Nope! It seems that he was probably holding a beer, which was edited out because yes certainly fans should jump in to take on the role of 1D management circa 2011 and preserve Louis' squeaky clean teen idol image! If Louis didn't want to be photographed with something he wouldn't come out to do fanservice holding it, give me a break, you really think he's sharing actual secrets with you? Grow up! Anyways, while on twitter Louis followed Isabella Signs, who he met through the charity work that she does for her younger brother. She has a YouTube channel by the same name and does A LOT of really cool SSE (Sign [language] Supported English) covers of all the boys plus 1D, check her out!

The Naughty List music video is OUT! It is a #quarantinevideo made with the green screen that Liam talked the other day about having had set up in his living room for days and how much he disliked that. It features Liam in a Snow Globe and Dixie and her friends dancing in a photobooth in colorful outfits (Liam in a red sequin vest with nothing underneath anyone?), pastel and glittery backgrounds, and lots of Christmas cheer! More than Liam had today, that’s for sure! Dixie loves Christmas, but Liam said that if it wasn’t for his son “pfft, Christmas can pass me by” in the joint live Liam/Dixie did to introduce the video. Steve the Manager (who made Liam’s naughty list for “making him work today”) spent most of the time feeding Liam questions for Dixie and trying to keep him on track. Liam and Dixie shared stories of Christmas presents (Dixie’s best Christmas was when she got a four wheeler), who made their Naughty List this year (Dixie: No one, Liam: “NIALLLL” - no he did not say why), and if they’d ever been kissed under the mistletoe (Dixie was when she was 12, Liam has not yet because he’s “a loonneeelyyyy boyyyy”, but then went on to say, “Mayaaaa you gotta kiss me under the mistletoe!!” so I guess that’s that). Steve the Manager kept cutting Liam off before he could even TRY to do his Harry voice, so we didn’t get any of that, but we did get a nice solo Liam alarm to wake up to this morning, where he did a meditative bit and reminded people that it’s almost Friday!! And he's added some signed Naughty List single CDs to his store and merch! Really cute hoodies-- I'm not personally sure I want my chest to say Naughty List all over it but Liam can work it and it is a cute design. He also went on a radio show (not Roman’s) to promote Naughty List and revealed that he had NOT done any Christmas shopping yet, which IMMEDIATELY put him on their naughty list. Not to worry Liam, I think you’re still pretty nice!

And my favorite larrie is BACK: we got a sneak peek of Harry’s Jingle Ball set and, surprise, surprise, it’s the pre-recorded set with the Free Nationals! The description is, “Harry Styles and the Free National light up an LA backyard celebration with a hit-stacked set”. So, uh, I guess he’s not going to be playing in front of a blank wall - it’ll be a garden with a camper van, little blue flags, and fairy lights strung up. His shirt matches the small flags in being That Color Blue, and my one and only prediction for the set is that he’ll be covering Blue Christmas. I gotta say that I have NEVER seen anyone as dedicated to that - or ANY color - as Harry is. He still hasn’t popped up anywhere, but this is EXCITING! A new Fine Line set!!

Zayn made Martyre’s Instagram story again, and though you STILL can’t see his face, it’s his neck this time instead of his hands! I think that he’s meant to be modeling the necklace he’s got on, but the picture is too blurry for me to make it out. Alas. Anyways, I’d love to see some pictures of his FACE if Martyre has those? Please? Meanwhile, Niall promoted a beloved Doncaster native musician... no it was Yungblud! On Instagram, of course: he did tell us he wasn't going to be on twitter for a while!

#louis tomlinson #liam payne #harry styles #zayn malik #niall horan #damn EVERYONE did something today huh #well i did some research about the copy of a .. thing so here's the second thing i found #The SECOND thing I turned up was an EP by a small indie rock band named Foxhole Stacks (which is RIGHT up Louis’ alley)#named “Copy of a Copy of a Copy of a Copy” - there were two songs on the EP the first being “Turntable Exiles”#lyrics: (“Where the skinny boys sing their songs the turntable exiles...and they wander and wander and wander around leave them headed for a #different sound”)#and the second is “The Law of Averages” (I’m tired sick and tired of letting it go/The law of every average I know”)#in case you wanted to know #theyre pop punk and DC based and GREAT and if anyone is lurking and wants to hear something AWESOME!#anyways on a seperate note im sending lots of love to liam today #anyways!#song of the day!#Turntable Exiles by Foxhole Stacks

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cxplqnce · 3 years

Text

Isaac Lahey - Deja Vu

Based on ‘Deja Vu’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

I got a few requests to do a sequel to Good Stuff, so I thought I’d write one, even though this can be read as a standalone. hope you like it!

Word Count: 1,196

Sequel to ‘Isaac Lahey - Good Stuff’.

Masterlist

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

And trading jackets, laughing 'bout how small it looks on you,

Isaac looked happy when you saw him. He looked happy with his hand intertwined with Allison’s as they walked down the school hall. And it killed you. You were still so in love with him, remembering all the happy memories like; the car rides you used to take when you would sing along to the radio or just talk. When you would go and get ice-cream and he would offer you his jacket when you were cold, claiming that ‘werewolves don’t get cold’.

You wondered if he did any of those things with Allison.

Watching reruns of Glee, being annoying

Singing in harmony, I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique,

You heard Allison talking to Lydia about her newly-formed relationship with Isaac. You heard her mention some of the things that you used to do with him that he had reused. It made your blood boil – knowing that he was sharing things with her that used to be yours. You hated that they were creating memories that you already had. Memories that made you smile then want to cry almost immediately afterward.

“He took me on a car ride to get ice-cream, basic stuff really but it was so cute! We just sang to the radio the whole way there and back and talked about the stupidest stuff.” Allison told Lydia, the pitch in her voice getting higher as she spoke fondly.

You wanted to run up to her and tell her that you had that exact same memory from six months ago.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too?

She thinks it's special but it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

As soon as you heard Allison mention a specific place Isaac had taken her to, you stalked away from the girls, looking all around the school until you found Isaac talking to Scott and Stiles.

“Are you kidding me?” You snapped at him, prompting Stiles to stifle a chuckle at Isaac’s facial expression, only for him to be dragged away by Scott. “You took her to our place… My place?” You fumed. That place was special for you, it was where you used to go to cry or think and when you became close to Isaac you took him there. He was the only person you had ever taken there and the fact that he had shared that with someone else hurt like hell.

“It’s none of your business where I take my girlfriend.” Isaac argued, trying to walk away from the conversation but you stopped him.

You grabbed his arm and looked him directly in the eye, “It is when that place is mine.”

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel ‘cause you played her Uptown Girl,

You're singing it together now I bet you even tell her,

How you love her in between the chorus and the verse,

You sat in the cafeteria pushing your food around your plate with your fork. You had tried to eat something but you just couldn’t. All you wanted was to go to your place and cry it out but it was tainted now, it wasn’t yours anymore. It was theirs.

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see Allison, staring down at you with a guilty look crossing her features, “Can I sit?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, motioning for her to take the seat across from you, “Sure. What’s up?” You asked, trying not to sound too horrible.

“I wanted to apologise. I heard about your argument with Isaac, that he took me to your place. I had no idea that it was important to you or that you even showed it to him. He told me he just found it one day.” She explained. You were a little surprised; you hadn’t expected her to react like this. You half-thought she would yell at you for screaming at her boyfriend. “I’ve told him not to take me there anymore. I just wanted you to know. I’m sorry again.” She finished before leaving the table.

Hearing what Allison had told you made you angrier at Isaac but it also took away any negative feelings you had towards her.

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

After thinking about the reasons you were angry with Isaac, you came to a certain conclusion. You weren’t actually angry at him. You were angry at yourself, at the situation you were in. It wasn’t his entire fault, it wasn’t yours, or Allison’s. It just so happened that the situation you were in, sucked.

You also figured out how to deal with it, how to make it better and how to get past all of the bad feelings you felt.

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

“Why did you want me to meet you here?” Isaac asked as he approached you. You were sat on a bench at your place, staring at the view, when you turned to face him.

Patting the seat gently, you motioned for him to join you, “I really hated you, you know.” You started, as he sat down.

“That’s good to hear.” Isaac joked. “Was that it?”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I hated you because I wanted us to work so badly, but we didn’t and when we ended, all I could think of was the good memories - the memories that you’re now making with Allison.” You paused for a second, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets to keep them warm, “We never would’ve worked though, cause of all the bad stuff between us.”

“There was a lot of it, wasn’t there?” He added, gently nudging your shoulder.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, before you nudged him back and took another deep breath, “I still have feelings for you, Isaac… But I know that they don’t mean anything anymore. I’ll get over it eventually and all of this will be a bad memory. So, I’m going to hang onto the good stuff. No bad stuff, no hard feelings.”

Isaac smiled at your comment, “Me too.”

“Allison’s good for you, by the way.” You mentioned, before standing up from your seat, “Don’t screw it up.”

You started to walk away, leaving all the bad stuff in the past, “I won’t.” Isaac called before you disappeared from view.

I know you get déjà vu

As you walked through the halls of Beacon Hills High a few weeks after your heart-to-heart with Isaac, you saw him with her – holding hands and looking happy. And for the first time in a while, you weren’t sad, or angry, or disappointed.

You just felt a little sense of déjà vu.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Follow my instagram @cxplqnce :) also I take requests if you have any - for any of the fandoms on my masterlist and some others! :)

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey one shot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine

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puckyess · 4 years

Text

You won’t regret it | Pat Moynihan

Words: 8k

“Ten” your friend, Kat says with a smirk on her face.

You vaguely register that her remark is directed at you. “What?”

“That’s the tenth time you’ve locked eyes with Moyni” she says, now nodding over to where he was still watching your group, more specifically, you.

There was a smile on his face and he was still talking to the couple of guys around him, but his eyes never left you. Every time you glanced in his direction that night they had always been on you. But neither of you made a move toward each other. You just continued to share curious looks from opposite ends of the room.

“That is so not true”, you say lamely, turning your attention back to your friend.

Of course she calls you out, claiming that the first time was when you guys had first walked in the door, the second when you were in the kitchen with Mike, then out on the balcony, when Tyce came up and hugged you. She trailed off but she had made her point clear.

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I'll go say hi, but that's it” you tell her. The grin on her face was enough to say she was appeased by your answer, even if it was reluctant.

Taking in a steadying breath and an equally big gulp of your drink, you turn around only to find the boy you were looking for no longer there. A frown settled in your features, a tap on the shoulder has you spinning the other way.

“Hi, I’m Pat” he says, holding his hand out to you.

You look down at his hand with an eyebrow quarked and a hint of a smirk plays at the corner of your mouth. But you extend your own hand nonetheless and it earns a bright smile from him. His hand is warm and as cliche as it sounds, your hand fits perfectly in his. He shakes it up and down and the whole scene makes you giggle.

“You’re laughing at me, what’s so funny” he asks, still not letting go of your hand.

His smile lets you know he’s just teasing and you already feel so comfortable with him. “I’ve just never shaken someone’s hand in the middle of a party” you say motioning to where your hands are still connected.

It’s hard to tell with the glow of the multicolored lights but you swear you see him blush as he releases your hand with a little squeeze. He plays it well, “Well now you have, I’m honored to be your first” he says. and now it’s your turn to blush.

Normally this is where you’d go to look away but something about the way he says it, with a hint of insinuation, a challenge to see if you’ll comment that has you maintaining eye contact as you take a sip of your drink. Who was this guy and how did he manage to have your stomach in knots and make you feel at ease all at the same time?

He asks for your name then and it takes you a second to realize that you haven’t known this man for more than 10 minutes because it feels like you’re already good friends.

“Y/N” you tell him, extending your hand to him with a smirk. He picks up on you mirroring his action from moments ago and tips his head back in an easy laugh that you join him in. You wouldn’t mind hearing that sound more often.

Just as your hands connect once again, one of his teammates barrels over and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Moyni! There you are! We’ve been looking for you” he calls over the noise of the room and based on the eye roll from Pat and the shit eating grin on his buddy’s face, you would guess that his friends knew exactly where he was.

“I’ve been gone for what, all of 5 minutes? Can you guys not handle being alone that long?”

The boy holds his arms up in defense, “Hey don't shoot the messenger, Tyce sent me. You guys are up next”. Pat glances back to where his teammate is waiting at the pong table with a smirk and gives you an apologetic smile.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll see you around” he calls as he’s pulled away. The wink he shoots you over his shoulder replays in your mind as you lay in bed that night.

The next few days pass by pretty uneventful, until Wednesday that is. You’re eating dinner with your roommate, Kat when your phone lights up on the table. You have this thing with your friends where if you’re out to dinner, phone’s stay in the middle of the table so that you can all enjoy the present with each other.

You ignore it, listening to Kat tell you about the plans for that weekend. When it lights up again, you give it a look but your will power holds steady and you continue to listen to your friend. When it lights up a third time though Kat pauses and gives you a look. “Who is that?”

Her guess is as good as yours though. The person who normally would be blowing up your phone is sitting across from you. “I don't know” you say honestly.

She rolls her eyes, making a move for your phone and her face lights up when she reads through the notifications. She hums, “It seems a certain Mr. Moynihan has taken an interest in you”

At the sound of his name your hand shoots out to snatch the phone from her, quickly scanning the screen.

3m ago Twitter: @pmoynihan19 has followed you

2m ago Instagram: @patrickmoynihan_ has requested to follow you

2m ago Instagram: @patrickmoynihan_ wants to send you a message

“The boy works fast” your friend chirps, a smug smile on her face.

You somehow manage to hear her over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. “It’s been four days, I'd hardly call that fast” you say as you swipe up to unlock your phone.

“What’re you doing?” Kat asks, narrowing her eyes.

The alarm in her voice makes your thumb hover over the twitter app. “I’m following him back?”

She grabs your phone again and you know it’s no use to try and get it back so you sit back in your seat with your arms crossed, waiting for her explanation.

“You can't follow him back right away, are you crazy?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, “and why not? You said it yourself, he’s clearly interested. And if I remember correctly, you were the one who was excited for me 30 seconds ago”.

“Well that was before I knew this was the first time he was making contact with you since the party! You said it yourself, four days is hardly fast. Make him wait a day or two before you follow him back” she says, throwing your words back at you.

You think about what she said and while you hated to play games, you did have to say she had a pretty good track record with these kinds of things. Or at least more experience in this area than you did.

“You know I'm right,” she quips, knowing you’re mulling over her words.

“Fine,” you say finally, “I'll wait one day. But that’s it”.

“You’ll thank me later” she smirks over her wine glass.

“You don't even like Chipotle” you muttered to yourself as you pulled into their parking lot. You were one of the few people who was not a Chipotle fiend but for some reason you had been craving it all day long. And after the day you had been having you made the logical decision to not cook tonight.

Unfortunately, your boss had kept you a little longer after work and you hadn’t been able to beat the dinner rush like you had hoped you would. You let out a sigh, taking your place in line alongside the slew of college kids looking for their fix. With the line moving unbelievably slow, you pull out your phone and answer a few texts and then aimlessly catch up on social media.

“Burrito or Bowl?” the worker asks you and you tuck your phone away, reciting your order.

When it comes time to pay you go to hand him your card but he shakes his head, “You’re all set” he says, sliding your bowl across the counter. “Moyni already paid for you”.

You look down at the shiny silver lid and there’s a simple message scrawled on the lid “hi Y/N :) - Pat”.

Your card is still in the air and your jaw is practically on the floor. “How…”

“He’s over there,” he says motioning over to a table. Your eyes follow and soon you’re walking over toward a table full of hockey players.

When he spots you his face lights up and he removes himself from the group. “I shouldn’t have bought your Chipotle” he tells you and your smile falls. Was this some kind of joke?

“What?”

“I'm mad at you ya know” he continues, but he wears a smile that says otherwise.

He gives you a little nudge with his arm, hands in his pockets. “I followed your socials, why didn’t you follow me back? Did you see my message too?” he asks, completely calling you out.

You can hear some of the guys snickering and you can't tell if it’s for your benefit or his, but it makes you extremely aware of your current situation. Curse your friend for getting you into this, if you had just followed him back last night this wouldn't be happening.

Lie and deny chants the little devil sitting on your shoulder. “I haven't been on social media lately” you offer lamely.

“That’s a lie, you were just on instagram” he states, his smile growing wider. He was clearly enjoying watching you squirm.

Your face starts to flush, getting caught in your own lie. “How do you know?”

He reaches up and taps the side of his glasses with his finger, which you have to say make him look even more attractive if that was possible.

You tip your head back and groan. You were still wearing your bluelight glasses from work. You wore them so often these days that you forgot you were wearing them at all. “You can see the reflection huh?”

His smile is softer now as he nods. “I could see you scrolling from a mile away and still not following me back” he tsks.

“I was advised not to,” you tell him honestly, throwing your friend under the bus.

“By who? It was Kat wasn't it? I'm going to have to have a word with her'' he teases.

“You and me both” you mumble.

He laughs and you’re relieved that he’s not mad or annoyed at your foolishness.

“I was hoping the Chipotle might persuade you,” he jokes.

“Thank you for this” you say, motioning to the bowl in your hand, “I really needed this today”.

A hint of color dusts his cheeks and then they lift into yet another warm smile as he says, “of course. I’ll let you go eat it while it’s still warm”.

You send one last thank you his way and then reluctantly walk away.

“Remember to follow me back, Y/N! You won't regret it!” he calls after you as you walk out the door.

Your friend was going to hear it for this one.

Pat’s words echo in your ears as you get ready for bed that night. “You wont’ regret it”. A cute, friendly, easy going hockey player; he had “regret” written all over him. But there was also something else there, something that made you feel excited and comfortable to be yourself. And that’s what had you throwing caution to the wind when you hit the follow button on twitter and then again on instagram.

You chewed on your lip as you opened his DM and chuckled at his message. It was simple, yet effective.

Hi, I’m Pat

🤝

You type out an equally short response.

Y/N

🤝

The bubbles pop up immediately.

It took you long enough

You shook your head as you read it, the boy was honest you had to give him that. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t throw a little sarcasm in there, chirping his incredibly fast response was a good start.

I could say the same to you

The bubbles pop up again and then disappear and you hope that he catches your sarcasm and doesn't just think you’re being rude.

I could reply slower if that’s really what you want…

You hate that you can hear him saying it, were you really falling this fast?

Not at all.

Yes, yes you were.

You lean against the counter with your mug, letting the warm steam fan your face. “Alright, why are you looking at me like that?” you ask Kat finally.

“Well I was going to say someone’s in an awfully good mood today, but I take it back. You do realize today is Friday right?”

You ignore her comment, but answer her question. “I do, I called off today”.

“And why is that?” she asks. She gets a weird smile on her face like she knows something you don’t and you don’t like it.

You narrow your eyes on her suspiciously. “What’s going on? Do you have something you need to tell me?”

She jumps off the couch, excited all of a sudden. “Do YOU have something you need to tell ME?”

“What? No! Seriously what’s up?”

She practically explodes then. “Were you with Moyni last night?”

You flush at the mere thought of that. No you weren’t with him in the sense that she meant, but had you spent the wee hours of the night talking to him? Maybe.

She catches it and screeches. “I knew it! I told Tyce this morning and he didn’t believe me-”

You cut her off in the middle of her excited rant, “Wait, you what?”

She takes a breath then and backtracks, still pacing around the apartment. “I was facetiming Tyce this morning and Moyni walked in all smiley asking for something and T chirped him asking how he was in such a good mood when he was up so late last night and asked who he was talking to. And boy did he blush like you just did”, she was down right gleeful telling the story.

“Anyway, Moyni tried to deny it, but Tyce was like ‘no dude I could hear you talking through the wall so who was it’. And he wouldn't say. And that’s when I was like wait, I didn’t hear you leave for work today and you never miss so you had to have had a long night and so I told Tyce I bet she was over there last night and now you’re all bright eyed and bushy tailed, like glowing actually and that only comes from one thing…”

By the time she finished her storytelling you were feeding off her energy. “Ok that is so NOT what happened” you laugh at the disappointed look on her face, “But. He DID ask me to come to his game tonight”. You try to act casual but the minute she lets out a squeal, you do too. You can’t believe you had become one of those girls, but you were just so damn happy.

“What?! When?! How?! Ok, rewind, spill!” She finally settles herself on the couch, somewhat patiently waiting for you to dish out the details of last night.

Between the lack of sleep and the adrenaline coursing through your veins all night, your nerves were shot. Pat and Tyce had managed to get yours and Kat’s seats not only next to each other, but with the best of views of both the ice and them. Watching warmups was fun, seeing the guys interact and show off a bit for your own personal entertainment.

The game delivered too. The goofiness, relaxed form the guys had taken during warmups was gone as their competitive sides came out and they battled for the win. Having someone to cheer for on the ice and your best friend by your side made it that much better. You even caught Pat glance up into your section once or twice and you could see that smile even through his cage.

In all it was the perfect night but this side, well you’ve never done this side of it before. You’ve never been on the side that waits for a player after the game. You’ve never been part of that group.

You stood next to Kat as she easily mingled with some of the girls and players that had formed a group near you. You only really knew Tyce and Parker and neither of them were part of the circle.

Groups had never really been your thing, you were more of a listener than someone who could handle the spotlight. You were often talked over or couldn’t really get your words out the way you wanted to so you kept quiet. In your usual friend group it was fine, you still felt part of the group, but tonight not so much.

Everyone around you seemed to know each other and had no problem interacting. You watch as the conversation bounces from person to person until you almost zone out.

That all changes when Pat makes his way into the group. He seems to be looking for someone, maybe even you but your small frame is hidden behind the wall of guys. You catch the warm smile he throws at you across the group of people engaged in conversation and asks if you saw his goal, a moment that you did in fact see and you respond without hesitation.

It’s like he flips a switch in you. You’re no longer uncomfortable on the outskirts with his attention on you. It’s as if there’s not a whole conversation going on around you with the way he talks to you, singling you out in the best way.

He nods his head to the side, motioning for you to follow him. “This is better, it’s quieter and you looked like you could use a break” he jokes once you’ve moved away from the noise of the group.

You grimace at whatever must’ve given you away. “I looked that bad huh?” you tease him.

He doesn't comment, just shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, I love being around everyone and the energy is great but I also know that sometimes after a whole night of being wound up it can be nice to step away for a bit”

His response surprises you, you weren’t expecting something so honest and sentimental. “Thank you for that. It was a pretty crazy night. Fun, but crazy!”

At that he grins. “The boys were pretty chippy tonight yeah? There’s a little extra bite there when we play BC”.

“I could tell, you were really running your mouth out there”

He laughs, “I was doing no such thing”

“So all that pushing and shoving happened for no reason? You were such an instigator, not saying it’s a bad thing but you should own up”

“Yeah Moyni, own up” Tyce says siddling up next to him.

Pat just shakes his head. “Butt out Tycer you don't even know what we’re talking about”.

“Well of course I don't, how could I when you two wandered off to have your own little conversation” he points out with a smirk.

Pat catches you rolling your eyes at him and starts to laugh. “Relax, Y/N here was just telling me what a loud mouth I have and now she knows I get it from my roommate” he says, throwing an arm around you and pulling you into him, “Isn’t that right Y/N?”

You were very aware of the weight of his arm on your shoulders as well as the heat of his still warm body with yours turned into him. It didn't help the warmth that was spreading across your face nor did the sly smiles from both of your roommates.

“Those weren't my exact words, Pat” you said poking his side.

The movement of him reacting to your little jab has him pulling you further into him to where you have to put a hand on his chest to keep from completely falling into him. You can feel his heart beating surprisingly fast and you look up at him.

He gives you a soft smile and the whole moment is ruined by Tyce making gagging sounds and Kat hitting him. “Ow! What was that for?” he asks obliviously.

She rolls her eyes. “You are such an ass sometimes, Tyce. Let the kids have their moment, come on”. She turns to you and Pat, “You’ll have to excuse my child of a boyfriend” she says glaring at Tyce and pulling him away from you two.

Pat laughs it off, “Well then… What do you say to doing this all over tomorrow for game 2?”

“Hmmm. I think I can swing that”

“You won’t regret it,” he says, giving you a squeeze.

Somehow Pat managed to weasel his way into different parts of your life. What started as showing up to his games turned into hanging out after, going out to party on Saturday turned into nights in, homework sessions turned into brunch dates. You hung out whenever your schedules allowed but less that, there was no contact in between. It left you feeling confused until you were with him again and then you forgot all about it.

“Are you home yet?”

“No, Pat, for the tenth time; I’m on my way home from the gym. You’re a country away from me right now, why do you care when I’m home? Aren’t you supposed to be playing hockey or something?” you tease him, wedging the phone between your shoulder and the side of your face.

“I thought you went to the gym right after work on Wednesdays? It’s like 7 o'clock there now isn't it?” he asks confused.

You chuckle into the phone as you get out of the car and grab your bag. “Should I be worried you know my schedule?”

“You always make me wait after practice to get food with you after your workout on Wednesdays, thank you very much. That’s how I know your schedule. You’re also just a very predictable human” he chirps you right back.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me” he says almost as if on cue.

“Like I said, a country away and you’re still a pain in my ass, Pat” and just like he could see you rolling your eyes at him, he can see your smile too.

“I actually do have to go to practice, there’s something waiting for you when you get home!” he rushes and then hangs up without even giving you the chance to say goodbye.

You sigh as you unlock your door. You really did miss him and you really needed to get a grip. He had been gone less than a week and you were already moping...moping over someone who wasn’t even yours to mope over.

“You want to tell me how you manage to have someone so wrapped around your finger from thousands of miles away?” Kat’s voice makes you jump as she walks into the kitchen with you.

“What?” you ask her confused.

There’s a grin on her face as she nods to the island where there’s a Chick-fil-a bag and a card waiting for you.

“Ohmygod, he didn’t”

“Ohhh, but he did! Now open it, you’re lucky I haven’t read it already”. She’s almost more excited than you are.

You were trying to not get worked up over what the little note could possibly say, but it was hard not to when he had clearly been excited about it all day- and made a point to ask you about it multiple times that day.

“Hi, Y/N, you’re halfway there! Have some nugs for me and remember...treat yo self! I’ll see you soon. - Yours, Pat”

You’re smiling like an idiot as you read the words, his words over and over.

“What does it say? You know what, just give it to me” she says, snatching the small piece of paper from you.

“Awhhhh what does it mean? Halfway to what?”

You couldn’t get rid of the grin on your face if you tried. “Halfway through the week. Pat and I always get dinner after his practice and my workout on Wednesdays to celebrate.”

“Well shit, where’s my Moyni? I’m going to have to train Tyce better. What about the ‘treat yo self’? Is that an inside joke too?”

You shake your head remembering the first time it came up. “He asked me where I wanted to go and for once I was actually able to make a decision and I chose Chic-fil-a because I was craving it. He gave me a hard time about choosing fried chicken right after I had worked out and I waved a nugget in his face before popping it in my mouth and saying I earned it and was going to treat myself. It’s dumb…” you trail off.

“It’s not dumb if it makes you smile like that. I’m just mad he didn’t send any for me”.

“How did he get it here if you didn’t pick it up?”

“He sent Tyce over with the bag and card before you got here” she answers.

“It sounds like it’s Tyce you should be mad at” you point out.

She agrees and runs off to her room to reprimand him.

You sit down with your bag and note and take a selfie to send him. I’m one happy girl. The only thing missing is you.

After you send it, you wonder if maybe it’s too much and then you remember that he arranged for his teammate to deliver you chicken nuggets and a handwritten note simply because it was your Wednesday tradition and you feel like it was just right.

Pat’s giddy mood carries into practice and overflows once he gets back to the locker room and checks his phone for any indication that you had gotten his surprise. He had told Tyce to drop it off and was going to kill him if he didn’t follow through.

When your smiling face holding up both the red and white bag and the little note fills his screen, he can’t help but match your grin.

I’m one happy girl. The only thing missing is you.

- The nuggets are my replacement! At least they can’t chirp you for ruining your workout (;

Haha I would take a few chirps to have you sitting across from me.

- We both know you wouldn’t be able to handle that 😅

Ummm false. But thank you! Tyce is a good messenger

- You didn’t think just because I was in a different country I’d forget about our Wednesday tradition, now did you?

Never.

“What’s got you smiling at your phone like that, Moyni? Could it be your….girlfriend?” Trevor shouts extra loud, making sure the locker room hears him, earning some chuckles and shouts from the guys.

Pat doesn’t embarrass easily, he just rolls his eyes at his teammate. “Don’t have a girlfriend, Z”

The couple guys around him laugh at his denial and Trevor steps in front of him, stomping his foot with his hands on his hips. “Give me the phone, Moyni”

Pat stops untying his skates and looks up to see a very sassy Trevor Zegras waiting on his demand. “Hand it over, Mister Moynihan”.

Pat shakes his head, but hands over his phone. He knew Trevor was immature enough to not let up and honestly he wasn’t ashamed of anything that was said.

Surprisingly he doesn’t broadcast the messages to the locker room like Pat was sure he would. Instead, it was a lot of mumbling as he read through what had his buddy all keyed up.

“Mhmm”

“Yup”

“I see”

Finally he handed the phone back to Pat and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, buddy. I’m afraid you are one sick puppy”.

Trevor was known for saying things that just didn’t make sense and this definitely made the list. “Dude what? That’s what you got from my messages? Were you looking at the right thing?”

“Yup. One love sick puppy” is all he quips before walking away

You had been on pins and needles all day and you knew exactly why- the World Juniors final roster was supposed to be announced anytime now.

You knew in your heart that Pat would make the team but it would make you both feel a helluva lot better if you could see it in writing, this year especially. Not only had he not made it last year but you swore every other day you saw someone was getting sent home because of the virus. It didn’t make dealing with the waiting process any easier.

In the few texts and facetimes Pat had been able to squeeze in since camp started, you both carried positive energy but you could tell he was holding back. He would light up when he talked about the guys and odd little activities they were required to participate in like superlative voting and bob ross painting nights. You knew he was having a blast being back with his old buddies, especially after all of the quarantine and protocols they had to go through.

There was something else there though whenever you brought up how he was doing personally. Pat was a positive guy, the glue guy of the locker room. He liked to keep things lighthearted and loved to make everyone around him smile. So when his own smile doesn't quite reach his eyes you know something is up.

“You’re holding out on me, Pat. What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up, I just missed you”.

“I know what you’re trying to do here, but telling me you miss me is not going to distract me from the fact that you keep dancing around my question,” you try to give him a little grin but the way he’s acting makes you worry.

“Do you know when the roster comes out?”

He lets out a sigh and rolls over from his back to his stomach, hugging the pillow and propping the camera up again. His hair is adorably messed up and his glasses make him look incredibly soft and boyfriend like. You almost forget you even asked him anything as you memorize him through the screen until his voice cracks through the silence.

“I don’t know if I want to know when it comes out” he admits.

His answer confuses you. “Why would you not want to know?”

“Because then this all could come to an end and I don't want it to end”.

Your eyebrows furrow and you frown at him. “What do you mean, Pat? All of what and why is it ending?”

“This”, he says motioning with his arm, as if that’s supposed to help you. “Camp, the guys, this team. I don’t want it to be over”.

Your expression softens when you finally realize what he was talking about and it breaks your heart.

“Pat”.

“What if I don’t make it again this year, Y/N?” he asks quietly, almost as if he’s afraid if he says it too loud it might come true.

“Come on, Pat, you know that’s not going to happen. You’re going to make the team.” You don’t know how you can convince him to not doubt himself because if you were being honest, you had thought he was a lock to make it last year, before you even knew him, and he had been cut.

As if hearing your thoughts he says, “yeah, but I thought I would make it last year too and that backfired and there’s even better players here this year”

“Where is the confident guy that stuck his hand out in the middle of a party to introduce himself? The guy that has a smile or a smirk on his face 100% of the time? I miss him. You’re allowed to have doubts and worries, but not on this. I won’t have it. You are going to make this team Patrick Moynihan, I believe in you bub”.

He’s silent for a moment too long and you think maybe you stepped over a line somewhere, but then that smile that you love so much makes an appearance.

“Wow, you’re going soft on me, Y/N”

You roll your eyes, but your grin matches his, “As much as I said I wanted to see that smirk of yours…”

At that he lets out a chuckle and your Pat is back. “Really though, thank you. You make a pretty good glue guy with that pep talk.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now get to bed, Mister. You’ve got a big day tomorrow”.

Apparently your speech had worked because he says, “Call me tomorrow, you wont regret it”

Exactly 12 hours later you’re impatiently doing just that. “Come on, Pat, answer your damn phone”.

“Did you need something?” and even almost 3,000 miles away you can see the way the right side of his pulls up into a smirk that drives you crazy.

“Do you have something to tell me?” you drawl out, despite the burst of energy you had.

He hums in response. “Nope. Can’t think of anything”.

“Pat you made the team!” you practically scream into the phone, too excited to play his games. You chant it as you jump around your room, probably pissing off your downstairs neighbors to no end but you didn’t even care.

He laughs at how excited you are and you can hear how much lighter it sounds from last night.

It’s like he reads your mind because he says, “you’re going to royally piss off your neighbors if you keep jumping around like that”

“I don’t care, you made the damn team, Pat! I’m so happy for you, so proud of you. I hate that I can’t actually be there with you”. And it was true. You hadn’t noticed how strong your...whatever it was with Pat had grown, how close you two had become until he was gone. You hadn't even been apart from him for 2 weeks yet and yet you’re pretty sure you missed him the second you sent him off on his way to Michigan. And now that he made the team, you wouldn't see him for at least another month.

“I know, I wish you were here with me too. You’d love it here.”

You’re surprised at his admission, you had expected him to chirp you for being soft again but his comment was anything but and you have to pull yourself together because you absolutely cannot let him see you tear up or he would definitely deliver on that chirp.

“Well as much as I want to see you, I better not see you until next year”

He scrunches up his nose at that. “It sounds so long when you say it like that”. It almost sounds like he’s whining and for once you actually love the sound of it.

“You better bring me a souvenir too. I like gold in case you were wondering”.

“I’m sure you do”

“I can always ask Zegras” you tease.

“You’re lucky you’re a country away from me, Y/N” he threatens and you swear his voice is three levels deeper but you try to not let him see the way it’s affecting you.

“And what is it exactly that you’d do, Pat”

“You’ll see. You might want to take it back though, you’ll regret it if you don’t”. His words are a contrast to the ones he left you with last night, a promise and a threat all rolled into one.

Missing Pat made the anticipation for World Juniors that much better. The content that USA was pushing was something you looked forward to seeing everyday. You loved getting a glimpse into the guys Pat had history with and could see why he had formed such a bond with them.

The newest little piece of the team media was an interview from Landon Slaggert. With him being Pat’s roommate for the duration of their tournament, you had gotten to know him pretty well. He would usually pop into Pat’s facetimes and give him a hard time for a few minutes before giving him the room.

The interview was pretty standard, asking a little bit about his draft experience, the hurdles of the college season, college in general, but then it turned interesting.

“So what’s one thing you learned about your roommate, Patrick Moynihan, that you didn't know before having spent so much time with him in this setting?”

Slaggert gets a big grin on his face and now your interest is piqued.

“Well I knew him pretty well before since we were teammates in the NTDP program, uh but I probably figured out that he’s more of a girlfriend guy than he is a single guy. He likes having a girlfriend, so that’s one thing I learned about him”.

To say you were not expecting to hear that response was an understatement. Your jaw fell on the floor and your heart followed. Girlfriend guy? Who the hell was his girlfriend. You didn’t know whether to feel pissed or sad, but settled on hurt.

You shook your head at yourself and willed the tears welling in your eyes to go away. You should’ve known that after months of being with him and never actually being with him that he was never yours. This information shouldn’t even affect you, much less hurt you and yet it did.

The worst part was he hadn’t even told you about her. You thought you would at least give yourself credit as being an important person in his life, someone that you at least had shared almost everything with. And he hadn’t bothered to share this huge part of him with you. The more you thought about it, the more worked up you got.

It’s like he could sense he was in trouble because your phone lights up with his face. You’re in no state to talk to him, so you hit ignore. He was persistent you had to give him that as he gave it five more tries followed by a slew of text messages that ranged from “why are you ignoring me” to ok “im getting pissed”.

Hah. He was getting pissed, what did he have to be upset about. He finally gives it a rest even though part of you wishes he hadn't.

The words “you won't regret it” taunted you. You knew better and played with fire anyway.

“Damnit Pat'' you curse him as he stumbles and loses the puck. It seemed that every time the puck was anywhere near his stick tonight he’d turn it over. He wasn’t himself out there. He was trying to overcompensate in all the wrong places and it was noticeable.

With no fans in the stands you could hear him getting an earful when he hopped back over the boards. “Next shift Pat, next shift” you mumbled like he could hear you.

The period couldn’t end soon enough after back to back unanswered goals from Germany. You watched as the boys made a beeline for the locker room, one in particular making your heart squeeze as he hung his head.

As mixed up as you were about your emotions for him, he was still one of your closest friends and you knew he was blaming himself for the mistakes that had led to chances and goals. He was normally the guy to lift everyone up and keep them focused on the prize. You knew better than anyone how his energy affected a room. It was hard to see him like this, you only hoped he would find it in himself to get through the last period.

With your heart in your throat, you willed the third period to be better for him. It could have been worse but it still wasn't pretty. He was only in the box once but he didn't see the ice too much after that. You didn’t really blame the coach on that one with Pat playing more as a liability tonight than someone who could help them win the game. Regardless, you saw the way his shoulders slumped on the bench despite doing his best to congratulate his teammates.

Luckily USA ended up pulling out the win. As selfish as it was, you felt like you had something to do with the way Pat played tonight and you knew you needed to fix things with him. It was unfair for you to ignore someone who had no idea there were unsaid expectations.

When the phone rings more than the usual three it takes him to answer, you begin to worry.

“So now you want to talk to me? Save yourself the lecture, Y/N I'm not in the mood.”

You knew you deserved it, but it was the first time he was anything but nice to you and it made you flinch.

He sighs. “M’sorry, I’m just not having the best time lately” he apologies.

You can hear how tired he is and you would bet that he's running his hand through his hair and over his face.

“Does it have anything to do with the game?”

His end of the phone is silent. You knew he didn’t necessarily prefer to talk about losses even though they claimed his brain.

“I didn't think you’d watch the game”

“Well you must not know me then. I’d never miss one of your games”

“Even when you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, Pat. Not at you anyway.”

“Well you could’ve fooled me. Who are you mad at then if it’s not me? Because you’ve been completely ignoring me and I don’t even know why. I don’t know how I’ve managed to piss you off 3000 miles away”

“I’m not mad at you, Pat! You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m mad at myself.”

His mood instantly shifts when he hears that. He’s always been such a good listener and shoulder for you to lean on.

“Why is that? What’s going on honey? Hang up the phone and Facetime me. I need to see you.”

Hearing the pet name makes your heart ache even more than it already does and makes you equally as confused. You have to pull the phone away from your ear just so that he doesn't hear your sharp intake of breath as you grasp for any kind of solid ground, your head spinning. Your phone begins to vibrate against your chest like it’s trying to soothe your heart.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me. Are you okay?”

For the first time since meeting him at that party months ago, you can't bring yourself to look at him.

Even without seeing his face you know his lips are turned down into a frown and his eyes are full of concern. The loaded question hangs in the air, waiting to tip the balance of your life and this relationship. How could you be okay when the person you felt the most for had someone else, someone he hadn't even bothered to tell you about.

“When were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?” you ask him, trying to muster a smile for his benefit but there’s so much hurt in your voice and sadness in your eyes that there’s no use.

You expect him to play it off, act like he was going to tell you all along. What you don’t expect is for him to turn red and start scratching the back of his neck. And suddenly you have a very bad feeling. If he was acting like this, it must be more serious than you thought.

“What? What girlfriend would you be referring to now?”

He’s acting goofy and it’s not adding up. Your eyes narrow in on him through the screen. What was he up to?

“The girlfriend that was mentioned by your roommate in an interview? Are you seriously going to keep lying? It’s bad enough that you didn’t tell me about her in the first place”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, come again?” He still had that stupid look on his face like he was in on some big secret and it was really starting to aggravate you.

“The interview of Landon that USA posted. They asked him if he learned anything new about his roommate and the first thing he came up with was how you’re some big girlfriend guy, Pat. So cut the crap, who is she?” you deadpan.

He scoots closer to the camera, still with that smug look and says “He did what now?”

Apparently you had to spell it out for him. “Do you have a girlfriend or not, Pat? Why are you dancing around the question?”

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. Yet.” he tells you, rocking back in his chair.

Now you were more confused than ever. “What?”

“Unless you want to change that?” he pauses, waiting for you to connect the dots. “You see, I’ve been waiting and waiting on this girl to finally give me a chance but I couldn’t tell if she was interested in me. Until now, when she’s 3000 miles away from me and is pissed over a comment Slaggs made in an interview about a girlfriend that I don’t even have.”

You knew he was saying words and all the right ones too, but you just couldn’t comprehend what he was actually saying. So you echo the only word your brain seemed to know, “What?”

“It’s you, Y/N! You’re the girl.” he laughs.

“But….since when? When did you know?”

“Since the night I shook your hand at that party. All the guys knew I had the biggest thing for you, they’ve been giving me a hard time for not making a move.”

“That was the first night we officially met” You said finally putting it all together, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how you felt and we were good friends, I didn’t want to mess that up” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.

You sit back in your own seat now and take in all that he’s revealed in the last few minutes. This much you could understand because it’s exactly why you hadn’t said anything yourself.

“So Slaggs outed your secret huh” you tease him and he’s relieved to see a smile finally grace your face.

“I really didn't know about the interview, but I guess I’m going to have to thank him for that later”

You raise your eyebrow at him and even in another country he can see the troublemaker gleam to your eyes. “Thank him? You think this ends well for you, bud?”

He looks way too smug for your liking, “Of course it does, I’ve finally got the girl of my dreams and I’m on my way to a gold medal”

“And what makes you so sure that I’m yours”

“Just say yes, Y/N. You won’t regret it”.

#pat moynihan #trevor zegras #providence college

162 notes · View notes

vminity21 · 4 years

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+1 | kth

Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+

Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.

Credit to: @suhdays for the amazing cover!

Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.

For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.

Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.

He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.

Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.

Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.

It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.

Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa

[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!

He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.

Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.

One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.

"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.

"My dignity,"

"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.

"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"

"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"

"Not! The point!"

Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."

"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.

"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"

"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."

"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.

You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."

"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.

"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.

Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-

But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?

Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.

It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."

"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.

"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.

His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.

He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"

"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"

"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"

"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.

Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.

Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.

"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.

You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.

There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.

Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.

When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.

"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"

"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.

And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.

Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.

227 notes · View notes

writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Damage Is Done - Little Movie Star Chapter Three (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Jensen & Danneel were ready to break the news. Surprisingly, so were you. You should have known better than that. Good feelings disappeared more sooner than later. How stupid of you to think that things were going in the right direction.

Words: 1,761

Warnings: fluff, cyber bullying, panic attack, fake social media posts (picture credits go to their rightful owners)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Things were going slow. And you could tell that the tension built itself whenever you distanced yourself more again. But you were trying, you really were. Jensen & Danneel could tell. They saw you struggling when you took part in their family activities. Your body language gave you away a lot of times. Neither of them commented on it, though. Communication was improving. More often, you spoke up when something happened you did not like & Jensen & Danneel did the same for you. Sometimes, it hurt a bit, when they told you that the way you acted was not appropriate. Sometimes, you stormed off to your room to cool down, only for you to come out a bit later to apologize for your behavior. Danneel was incredibly proud of the change you had been through so far. She could tell that Jensen & you shared a stronger bond but that was one thing Bill had warned them about. Whatever family you were put in, you usually connected faster with the fathers. In her head, she was already planning a girls day with you. Shopping & all that. Maybe that would help your bonding process.

You were eating breakfast when Jensen started a conversation that left you…unsure.

“So, we were thinking about breaking the news to the world. What do you say?” he eyed you carefully, waiting for some sort of reaction. You stopped eating for a second & looked down at your plate.

“For publicity?” the words were quiet but they could hear you crystal clear.

“Do you really think we need publicity?” Danneel joked & you were lucky that she eased the tension. Even a chuckle escaped you & finally, you looked up at them.

“What are you guys thinking? How do you wanna do this?” you asked, now starting to like the idea of them wanting you to be an official part of their family. It was fast but you thought if the world knew you were a part of the Ackles, then you might have an easier time accepting it yourself. They explained that they planned a simple Instagram post. Nothing more, nothing less. A picture with the six of you. The thought scared you but you agreed anyway which earned you two big smiles.

“Hey, Jensen?” walking over to where he was sitting, he turned his attention to you. “Could you help me with something, please?” you felt stupid to ask for help, especially because of something like that but you knew he had more experience than you.

“Sure thing. What is it?” he looked intrigued & then confused when you handed him your phone after sitting down next to him.

“Um… I don’t have any social media accounts but I’d like to get them started? I thought you might know what’s fitting & what isn’t.” Jensen seemed more than happy to help you out. It did not happen every day that you came & asked him something. So when you did, he appreciated it.

The two of you played around for a while. Jensen explained the basics. Even though you had to admit that he was not the pro you believed him to be. It was alright & in the end, you had a twitter & an Instagram account (@iam(Y/N)ackles). At first, you were against the handle. After all, your last name was not Ackles. But Jensen insisted that it was right for you to have these account names. He helped you setting everything up & you started following people you liked, starting with Jensen & Danneel, obviously. Followed by the rest of the Supernatural cast.

At the end of the day, after you took the picture Jensen & Danneel wanted to post, you were very nervous. The picture turned out to be incredibly cute. You were holding Zep in your arms, Arrow had been held by Danneel & JJ was sitting on Jensen’s lap. Immediately, you set this picture as your phone wallpaper, smiling wildly when you did so. All of a sudden, your phone was flooded with notifications. Both, on twitter & Instagram. Annoyed by the dinging sound, you turned them off completely. Jensen & Danneel tagged you in their posts & you were gaining hundred, thousands of followers in a very short time.

“(Y/N)? We posted the pic, just so you know.” but by the way you were looking at your phone, Jensen could tell you already knew this. He told you that it was probably better if you turned off the notifications but you brushed him off, saying you already did.

“Have you looked at it yet?” curiosity was written over his features. Shaking your head as an answer, he nudged you & told you to go on. Taking a deep breath, you opened Instagram & immediately were met with the picture on your timeline. The picture put a smile on your face again. You guys really looked cute. Like a cute little family. Then you went to read the caption.

Scrolling down, you saw Danneel’s post with the same caption & tears threatened to spill. You had not cried in front of other people in so long but right now, you could not hold back anymore. Gratitude was rushing over you & before you knew what was happening, Jensen wrapped his arms around you & pulled you into a hug. This time, you did not reject him, needing the comfort of another person. It felt good to be hugged, you had almost forgotten how much you actually loved it

“Thank you.” you mumbled into his chest. Jensen simply stroked his hands up & down your back. He could tell that this was a huge step. You were hugging, after all, & he was more than thankful to share this special moment with you. When you heard Danneel entering the room, you rushed over to her & gave her a hug, too. You could feel that your body was not reacting the same way when you were wrapping your arms around Jensen but it felt good nevertheless.

The rest of the day, conversation flowed easier. Dinner was filled with laughter & you guys chatted a lot. This act, of them posting you on their social media, showed you that they were not going away anytime soon. They were in for the long haul. Still, there was this awful voice in your head but tonight, it sounded a bit further in the distance, a bit more quiet than usual. That night, you decided to do a movie marathon. You had done them before but this one felt…different. It felt easier. You found yourself enjoying their company more & for a second, you had hope. Hope in the future. Hope in your new…family. Would you ever feel comfortable calling them your family? Maybe, if you kept going forward at this pace, then maybe you would.

Laying in bed, you wanted to check out the posts one more time. By now, you had thousands of followers even though you had zero posts on your account. Maybe you should repost the picture? Yeah, you could do that. Your thoughts were interrupted when you made the big mistake of going through the comment section under Jensen’s picture. Yes, there were a lot of positive responses, especially from his castmates, but when you kept scrolling, you found one hate comment after the other. They were awful to read through.

“really? she’s ugly as hell lmao”

“why would they choose her?”

“probably thinking she’s better than everyone lol”

“she should go back where she came from”

“wtf??? leave our ackles alone, bitch”

Tears were streaming down your face, this time because you were genuinely hurt by their words. One mistake followed the other & you were scrolling through your message requests. One was worse than the other. There were literal death threats people were sending you & you did not understand a thing. Nobody knew you & yet they were already building an opinion about you. Angry at yourself for reading through them & angry that you agreed on making a post for Instagram, you turned your phone off & threw it at the end of the bed. All good feelings had disappeared. Maybe they were right. You knew you were not pretty. You had asked yourself a billion times why they chose you out of everyone. You were sure they would send you back once they read through the comments. No matter how hard you tried to calm down, you could not catch your breath & started hyperventilating. Shit, you were about to have a panic attack. You had suffered from them ever since you were little but the last one had been ages ago. Usually, you would run to Bill & he would talk you through it. But he was hours away & he would most likely be asleep by now. Contemplating if you should go to Jensen & Danneel, you decided against it after the comments were repeating themselves in your head. So you just let the panic overcome you. It was better to let it out than to push it down further, you knew that. But having to go through such a period alone was everything but easy. Telling yourself you were fine & safe over & over again exhausted the shit out of you. It felt like hours but when you were finally at a point where your breaths evened out & your heartrate slowed down, you fell asleep almost immediately. Tomorrow, you had to talk to them, you knew it. Maybe they would be aware of the comments by then & would start the conversation. How were you supposed to start such a conversation anyway? Hi, your fans hate me & send me death threats. Come on, that sounded stupid. But the thing was that it did not feel stupid to you. Their words hurt you & Jensen & Danneel told you to come to them & be open with them if something bothered you. There was enough time for that in the morning, though. For now, sleep seemed like the best option & the best distraction. You just hoped that your dreams would be kinder to you than your family’s “fans”.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/03/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624, @imaginationisgrowth, @stoneyggirl, @alyispunk, @thevelvetseries, @multifandomlover121, @samsgirl93, @supernatural3002, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector, @vir-tual, @bellero, @sergantbuckybarnes (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x daughter!reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #reader insert #reader imagine #danneel ackles #fanfic #fanfiction #SPNFamily #father figure #mother figure #imagine #writing #Little Movie Star Chapter Three #panic #bullying #fluff

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