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the-hinky-panda · 2 years

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La Elección (Los Regalos Series)

Pairing: Colonel Horacio Carrillo x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You’re new to Colombia and the Search Bloc, loaned out by the Army to help sift through the wiretaps, sat phone calls, and other communications. Everything is off to a normal start until someone starts leaving little gifts on your desk and you’re determine to figure out who it is. (Carrillo is not married in this fic because I’m the author and I say so.)

Author’s Note: Okay, so two things. Number one, this is based on a prompt that was sent in asking for a fic where the reader leaves little gifts for Carrillo. Number two, here there be angst. Lots of angst. I’m sorry. But I promise I will fix it with the next installment.

Taglist: @xoxabs88xox

La Elección (The Decision)

You’re more than a little discouraged when you reach your apartment and unlock the door. You had been so excited to see Horacio at the bar this evening. So relieved when he had slipped his hand around yours. But when he had been walking you back to the apartment, he had been so standoffish and distant. Even though you knew why he was doing it, it hurt, surprisingly more than it should have. You knew you were falling for him, you just didn’t realize how hard.

Now you did.

And something needed to be done. This fake break up isn’t going to cut it. You knew coming to Colombia was going to be dangerous. You knew you would be putting yourself in harm's way. So what if you were seen in public with the commander of Search Bloc and that may raise the stakes slightly higher? You were willing to accept that risk. Being shot showed you just how short life could be. You were going to grab hold of this opportunity, this beautiful chance to be in love with someone who loved you back, and not worry about the consequences.

Love will find a way…right?

Well, you certainly aren’t going to give up on this just yet. But you need a way to show Horacio just how dedicated you are to giving this relationship a chance. He had left you gifts on your desk to show his interest, so maybe now it was your turn to do the same for him. You move through your apartment, gathering up things that you’ve brought from home that you think he might like or find interesting. You spread them out on the table and survey the collection. It’s an odd gathering of plants, candy, books, and soap but it’s all tied to your home state of Arizona.

You’re set to go back to the office next week but maybe you can sneak in earlier to drop off the first couple of gifts. It may appease his desire to keep the relationship quiet but still let him know that you’ve missed him. You don’t know if this is going to work but it’s worth a shot.

This relationship is worth a shot.

***

Horacio Carrillo is at his wits end.

And the bottom of another whiskey bottle.

He huffs in disgust and drops the empty container into the trash before reaching for a new one. He knew going to the bar with Peña was a bad idea. Yes, he had been happy to see you, elated when you sat next to him, and relieved to feel your hand in his under the table. You were alive, well, and just as happy to see him. Then his mouth got in front of his brain and he offered to walk you home. And you let him. Then you grabbed his arm and he couldn’t stop himself from holding you, even if it was just for a moment.

The scent of your shampoo still lingers in his nose, your perfume is still on his shirt. And the itch under his skin is still driving him crazy. He had thought this relationship, even with the fake break-up, would have been much easier than what it is turning out to be. You consume his every waking thought and even drift into his dreams. You are everywhere, even when you’re not in front of him. You’re a distraction, which would be fine, but lately one thought has consumed him.

How long is this going to last?

You can distract him as much as you can, but he knows it will only be temporary. He will catch Escobar and then what? He doesn’t know if the DEA and the United States care about the Cali cartel as much as they seem to care about Escobar’s capture. So once that goal is accomplished, you’ll most likely be sent back home. Which brings him to the current dilemma that is the cause of the multiple empty whiskey bottles: does he endure the heartbreak now or when you leave?

He blames the fake break-up for this train of thought. It made him realize that separation is inevitable. In the past, he would have taken full advantage of the situation, and you, if he were being honest, before sending you back on your way to the US without a second thought. But then the cafe happened. Your blood had stained the floor of the establishment and his heart had nearly stopped at the sight.

He loves you.

And love is not a feeling that typically survives in a warzone. If he were a smart man, he would end this foolishness now. Yes, it would hurt, dreadfully so, but better to end on his terms than on fate’s. So why, whenever he thinks he’s made the decision to stop this romance before it goes further, his hand reaches for the nearest liquor bottle? How could the decision that makes the most logical sense be the wrong one?

A knock disrupts his thoughts as he’s staring down into another glass of whiskey. He feels the room drunkenly tilt as he makes his way to the door, but he grits his teeth and focuses on making his steps steady and straight. He has no idea who would be visiting his home this late at night and the thought that he should have his gun in his hand crosses his mind, but he’s too numb to go back for it. He peers through the peephole and sees the last person he expects on the other side of the door.

Juliana.

He quickly unlocks the door and opens it. Her eyes are wide, teary, and dark circles make them look even bigger. Her clothes are rumpled, hastily thrown on her thin frame. She looks frail, pale, like she’s made out of paper and will disappear at any minute. Before he can say anything, she straightens her shoulders.

“I wasn’t sure if you were home.”

He glances behind her and to the sides, wary of an ambush. He doesn’t see anything that raises any alarms so he opens the door wider. “Come in.”

She cautiously steps over the threshold, her arms folded painfully tight across her chest. “I’m sorry for coming so late. I didn’t know where else to go.”

He closes the door and locks it. The buzz of the whiskey and beer is wearing off slightly. “What happened?”

“I’ve been trying to reach you all evening…”

“I…was out.”

She nods, her pulse beating wildly in her neck. “Rodrigo was shot today.”

That sobers him up significantly. Rodrigo Gonzalez is a superior, a friend, and Juliana’s husband. “Is he alright?”

She shakes her head as the tears start to fall. “He’s gone, Horacio.”

He almost asks her “gone where?” but stops himself. He knows what she means, his brain understands the message but his heart doesn’t want to believe it. They had been cadets together. They had grown up together. He had even stood in as Rodrigo’s best man at the wedding, despite his own desire at wanting Juliana as his wife. He had made peace with the situation, figuring if he couldn’t marry her, then at least she would be just as well off and taken care of with his best friend. In the ten years of their marriage, she had wanted for nothing. They had two children, a son and daughter, who were intelligent and personable. For a Colombian National Police officer’s wife, she was living a charmed life.

Except, now that’s all changed.

“I don’t know what to do,” she says. “I haven’t even told the children yet.”

Horacio closes his eyes. Manuel and Sophia. Most likely both of them are sleeping peacefully at the moment, unaware that their father won’t be coming home anymore. He takes a steadying breath, remembering just how insistent Rodrigo had been when he had asked Horacio to be the children’s godfather. And as such, he now has a responsibility to those children, to fill the role that Rodrigo can no longer fill.

“I, uh,” he clears his throat and pushes down his own emotions, “I can come by first thing in the morning. We can…we can tell them then.”

She nods, tears falling in earnest now and when he takes a step towards her, she practically falls against him. “I don’t know what to do.”

He holds her with numb arms as she sobs and is unable to find any words for the situation. Maybe fate has made the decision for him already by showing him that need is always greater than want.

***

You’re finally cleared to return to work and can barely quiet your thoughts and emotions so you can get a good night's sleep. You do your physical therapy, make a nice dinner, have a couple glasses of wine, and pick up a book to read in hopes that will calm you enough to rest.

You haven’t heard from Horacio since that night he walked you home a week ago now. You had enlisted Javier and Steve’s help with the delivering of your gifts and notes. You were anxious to find out what he thought of the small bunny-eared cactus that had come from a clipping of a larger cactus in your parent’s backyard. Or the piece of dried cactus that you may have smuggled out of a state park near your home in Phoenix. Or the small bag of prickly pear candy that your mother had sent you in the last care package you received.

You still had the creosote soap to give him as well as a first edition of your favorite book: To Kill a Mockingbird. Those two gifts, for some reason, felt far more personal than the others. You wanted to explain the significance of those two things to him in person. Creosote imitates the scent of rain in the arid desert. It represents relief and the provision of something needed for survival. That is how you feel about his presence in your life.

Then there is the book. Atticus Fitch, the main character of the book, was a single father raising two children and choosing to defend a wrongly convicted man that was assumed guilty based on his skin color. Atticus was the hero, the defender and protector of the innocent and falsely accused. He was honorable and upright, the epitome of a righteous man. You had already inscribed the front page of the book “To my Atticus Fitch. Heroes do exist.”

So when you finish the first chapter of your current book and a knock at the door breaks the silence of your apartment, your anxiousness returns. You get up slowly from the couch, pick up your gun, and slowly approach the door. When you reach it and peer through the peephole, there’s no one there. You carefully unlock the door and pull the door open. Your original observation is correct, there is no one to be found around your doorstep. You take a tentative step over the threshold and your foot hits something. Looking down you see it’s a brown cardboard box. Upon closer inspection you see its contents are familiar…very familiar.

A small potted bunny-eared cactus.

A dried piece of cactus.

A bag of prickly pear candy.

There’s a piece of folded stationery tucked between the pot of the cactus and the bag of candy. You pick it up, your fingers trembling as they unfold it and read the four words scrawled on the paper.

I’m sorry. It’s over.

#colonel horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo fic #los regalos series #narcos fic #hinky writes

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thisismystrangeaddiction · 1 year

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Sam Fabelman x Male Reader

A/N: So after getting my hands on this movie on 4K, it’s finally time to tackle this thing. This takes place a little while into Sam and his family moving to Cali, before the whole monkey thing-. As we all know, Sam is really bad at school so you are tasked with tutoring him. I apologize if there’s any grammatical errors. This one’s for you @danny-boy27

TW: none (I think-)

He/Him/His pronouns used for the reader insert.

Y/N woke up tired, like really tired. He had stayed up last night studying for a chemistry quiz and his brain was still fried. It took all his energy to get up and get ready for school. Once he got ready he trudged his way to school still on the precipice between being awake and falling asleep. He made it to his math class and was on his way to his seat before his teacher called him.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Y/N turned around and walked up to the teachers desk.

“Yes sir?”

“Hey, so, you know Sam Fabelman right?” The teacher asked.

Y/N nodded even though he never had any interactions with Sam, Y/N only knew him as the new kid.

“Would you mind tutoring him?”

Again, Y/N was tired so it took him a minute to respond.

“I, uh, yeah sure- I wouldn’t mind.”

“Ok great!” The teacher said with a big smile on his face.

Y/N just nodded and went to his seat.

Once Sam had made it into the classroom the teacher told him about the tutoring situation and Y/N supposed that the teacher had also told Sam to sit next to him since Sam was making his way to the seat next to Y/N. Sam sat down and timidly turned to look at Y/N.

“Hey, I’m sorry that you have to tutor me.” Sam said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Y/N said with a reassuring smile.

“I’m Sam Fabelman, even though you probably already knew that.” Sam said, holding out his hand with an awkward chuckle.

“I’m Y/N L/N.” Y/N said as he shook Sam’s Hand.

After school Y/N followed Sam to his house so they could begin their tutoring session. By the way Y/N got a 100 on his Chemistry quiz so he was very happy.

“Soooo, Sam, where are you from?” Y/N asked, trying to start up a conversation.

“Well, I'm originally from New Jersey, but we moved to Arizona after a couple of years.” Sam responded.

“That’s cool.” Y/N said looking up at the sky.

“So how was Arizona?” Y/N asked.

“Hot.” Sam said bluntly.

The two shared a laugh over that response.

“Did you do anything interesting in Arizona?” Y/N asked after the laughter died down.

“I, uh, made movies. Little short films.” Sam responded.

“That’s cool!” Y/N said, genuinely interested, “Have you made any more recently?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t touched my camera in months.” Sam said, a tad bit sad.

“Ah, what were your films made in Arizona like?”

“Well, the first one I made was a western about a sheriff going after some criminals, and the second one was a war film about World War 2.” Sam said with a smile.

“Wow…do you still have them?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, probably somewhere in my room.”

“Do ya think you could show me them? After we’re done studying of course” Y/N asked.

“Uh, well, sure! But they’d be without music since I don’t have the record anymore.” Sam said.

“That’s fine.” Y/N said with a smile.

“This is it.” Sam said, pointing at a house that the two were now in-front of.

“Wow, this is a big house-“ Y/N said as he admired it.

“Thanks… I guess” Sam said, unsure if that was the right way to respond to that statement.

Sam opened the door to the house and the two walked in.

“Do you want to, uh, meet my mom?”

“Yeah sure.” Y/N said as the two walked into the kitchen.

__________

“Mom?” Sam called as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh hey sweetie. Oh, whose this?” Mitzi asked, looking at Y/N.

“This is Y/N and he’s here to tutor me.” Sam said, slightly embarrassed admitting that he had to be tutored.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” Mitzi said with a smile as she shook Y/N’s hand.

“And it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Fabelman.” Y/N said with a smile.

“Please, call me Mitzi! And it’s great that you're tutoring Sammy, he definitely needs it.”

“Mom!” Sam groaned, embarrassed.

"Alright, alright, you boys go do your thing, I'll be here being busy." Mitzi said as she grabbed some pots and pans from the drawer.

“Alright , we’ll be in my room.” Sam said as he walked to his room, Y/N close behind him.

Once the two made it to Sam’s room the two plopped their textbooks on Sam’s bed.

“Alright so, let's begin.” Y/N said, picking up his math textbook.

_________

“This makes no seeeennsssee!” Sam groaned, pulling his hair.

Y/N smirked, “I know, I struggled, hard, with this stuff last year too.”

“I doubt that, you’re like the smartest dude at school.” Sam said, falling onto his bed, defeated.

“Come on Fabelman cheer up I’ve got faith in you, and we’re almost done with what we’re supposed to go over anyways” Y/N said with a reassuring smile.

Sam got up and sighed, “Alright.”

After an hour the two were finally finished and they were tired.

“Do you still want to watch the movies?” Sam asked

Y/N smiled, “Sure.”

Sam got up from his bed, opened a drawer and pulled out two small cans of film.

“This might sound weird but we’re going to have to move into the closet. It's the only place without light.

“Yeah sure, that’s fine.” Y/N said, getting up from the bed.

Sam reached under his bed and pulled out a box. He opened it and pulled out a camera. The two boys moved into the closet.

“Dang, it’s dark in here-” Y/N said looking around.

“Yeah, sorry, I just need to set this up real quick.” Sam said, genuinely embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, take your time.” Y/N said.

After a minute of darkness an image appeared on the wall.

“Alright, aaannnddd action.” Sam said with a chuckle. Y/N laughed before putting his full attention on the image in front of him.

______

Sam looked at Y/N’s face so he could see his reaction to the film but after a couple of minutes it wasn’t just to see his reaction anymore. Sam started noticing how good Y/N looked when he smiled, and how Sam got butterflies when Y/N smiled. Sam took in every detail of Y/N’s face, just in awe of how good he looked in this lighting, not even just in this lighting but just in general. Sam wished he could get a camera and film this so he could have this moment forever. Sam only came to when the film ended and Y/N looked right at him. Sam’s eyes widened and his face turned beat red.

“That was great Sam!” Y/N said with a smile.

“I- uh, I- thanks.” Sam said, wiping his face, as if he could wipe the blush away, as he pulled off the can of film from the camera and put in the next one.

“You’re not even going to ask me what my favorite part was?” Y/N teased.

“Oh, uh yeah. What was your favorite part?” Sam asked.

“Probably the part where the sheriff was shooting the crooks, how did you do that effect with the shooting?”

“Oh, I poked holes into the film.” Sam said.

“Wow, well I've got to tell you Sam, you might suck at math but you’re damn good at making movies.” Y/N said smiling and looking right into Sam’s eyes.

Sam sighed trying to stop himself from blushing again, “Thanks.”

“So are you going to show me the second one?’ Y/N asked , gesturing at the camera.

“I, uh, sure.” Sam said fumbling with the camera to get it to start projecting the movie. Once it finally did Sam didn’t look at Y/N anymore because he did not want to be a blushing mess again.

“Damn, that ending-” Y/N said when the film was over.

Sam smiled, “So what was your favorite part,” “Hmmm, I think I loved all of it.” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“I mean, just from those two, I can already imagine the billboards advertising your future movies with “Directed by Sam Fabeman” in big bold letters.” Y/N said gesturing the “billboards” with his hands.

The two shared a laugh over that.

“Well I guess that's a wrap on our tutoring session.” Y/N said, getting up.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Sam said getting up as well and opening the closet.

The two stepped out and Y/N sighed.

“Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Director.” Y/N said, making Sam chuckle and blush.

“Yeah, thanks for your help.” Sam said with a smile.

“Anytime.” Y/N said, smiling, as he walked out of Sam's room.

Sam let out a big sigh and collapsed onto his bed, his heart racing.

Yuuhhhh look at me finishing a fic 🤪🤪🤪🤪. I hope you guys enjoyed this and I just wanted to say that I am open to making a part two to this soooo if you’d like that, let me know. (But also know that I am very slow so a part 2 to this would probably take a while-)

Taglist: @danny-boy27

#sammy fabelman #Sam Fabelman #Sam Fabelman X male reader #male reader x sam Fabelman #the fabelmans #sammy Fabelman X male reader

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vijinxx · 4 years

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slight exposition teaser of the long beach part of the fix it fic... and that’s on making all three of them sleep on a ghost ship

“...It takes a slightly embarrassing amount of time to travel one-hundred miles. It becomes a rinse, cycle, repeat of Abby shutting down the engine when the boat kicks too hard; they end up floating precariously in varying directions for multiple nights and spending the following days overcorrecting themselves en route. Which eventually shows itself as Long Beach, an abrupt stop to restock on nearly everything. Fuel, most importantly, and it’s convenient they land themselves in an almost entirely boat-populated subsection of Terminal Island. Unfortunately for them, all the tanks have either dried up or been stolen, and they roam aimlessly around the shore until they stumble upon the largest ship Ellie’s ever seen in her life. It’s not entirely a yacht, and she’s pretty sure all three sets of their eyes bug out of their sockets as they drag their dogged-out bodies towards the rusted cruise.”

•

“The Queen Mary… turns out to be a historical landmark, known famously for being trademarked as one of the most popular paranormal destinations of the western U.S.A. Lev busies himself with the immediate scouring of the innermost section of the ship’s foyer, reading aloud all the informational placards lining the wall.”

•

“...And he wasn’t far off. The amount of stalkers crawling the various floors marks a record high in Ellie’s pure terror and amount-in-radius level. Even Abby seems to be panicking slightly as the sun drops lower in the sky; the lack of electricity provides them with indelible circumstances to be prowling around a potentially infested cruise ship, especially at night. But as the daylight drips off the hull, Ellie praises whatever above when after splitting up they manage to reform in the center deck, painfully relieved not to be wandering the Queen Mary out of the cover of the sun.”

#no i'm not showing y'all any present scenes... don't wanna Spoil it #yes these are randomly dragged from the intro of long beach #this isn't even arizona yet folks.#they zigzag around cali for about three weeks dfsfjhsf #abby/ellie #ellie x abby #fix it fic #tlou2 #the last of us fanfic #my fic #mine

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kookiecrumb · 2 years

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jjk || Rolling Wave

pairing: surfer!jungkook x richgirl!reader

summary: In order to win an Australian surfing competition, Jungkook dates the daughter of the man who holds it every year. He'll quickly learn that he isn't the first to do so. (Loosely based off of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice).

genre: angst, smut, fluff !! good ending.

warnings: fake dating angst, smut*, oral (m&f receiving), alcohol consumption, use of the word wh*re, making out, brief breastplay, jungkook is a user and so is y/n, macrophilia, vivid description of drowning, description of being stabbed/blood warning

rating: M (18+)

word count: 9.3K

a/n: this is my baby. please be gentle with her. i wrote her with a lot of care and poured my heart into her. i love her. i hope you love her too.

"It's not a sport, it's a lifestyle."

"Surfing."

...

"Kids out here, ride from Arizona just to ride our waves. These are California waves."

"These are Cali waves."

Jungkook emerges from beneath the waves, his hair whipping back, spraying salt water. He wipes his hands over his eyes and nose, taking a deep breath in and looking back towards shore."I wiped out," he huffs, getting ready to paddle back to shore. Looking up at the clouds, he has about twenty minutes before that storm moves in. Today would be his last day taking advantage of that nice spring tide.

With his legs on either side of his board, he lets the current carry him out. He waves to his friends out on shore, poking at a bonfire with their boards buried in the sand.

"That's it boys," he yells, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Let's go home."

With a towel hanging from his shoulders, Jungkook rubs his hand over his abdominals. His wrists are covered in cloth bracelets, some of them promises he's made to people he'll never see again. He grabs a chip from the snack table and pops it in his mouth.

"We're crashing at Hoseok's today, we gotta do some grocery shopping before we head to the next beach," Namjoon says, packing up the leftover beer into the cooler. "Headed North about thirty minutes from here."

Jungkook shifts his weight, listening attentively as he catches his breath. "Can we hit Pleasure Point?" He adds.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, glancing over at Yoongi for confirmation. Yoongi shakes his hand 'maybe.' Joon nods side to side.

"I just came back from Brazil. Unless you're willing to take that 15 hour flight from LAX to Sydney with me, I suggest we relax a little," he laughs.

The fire flickers wildly, creating shadows on Yoongi's face. He smirks. "No way."

The moon peeks from the clouds, creating a reflection out on the ocean.

Namjoon looks past Jungkook's shoulder, catching sight of the boats passing by on the horizon with their lanterns. "Look," he points.

Jungkook looks past his shoulder, turning his body. "Weird, we never get boats."

"Do you think it's a...g-g-g-ghost, Jungkook?!" Yoongi cackles, poking him.

He rolls his eyes, snatching Yoongi's fingers. "No. Stop, jackass." Namjoon pinches his glabella, frustrated with these two idiots.

"C'mon guys, help me pack up. It's almost eight and I told Hoseok we'd be there by eight-thirty." He stands up and starts to fold his chair to put in the back of the Jeep.

The other boys join in. Jungkook hauls the cooler and tents, Namjoon carries the surfboards to strap them up top, and Yoongi gathers the miscellaneous shit.

The wind flows through his hair as he grips the frame of the car while Namjoon drives. They ride on the winding roads that run along the edges of the cliffs near the ocean. Yoongi lays across the back seat, texting some chick he met Saturday at Kim Taehyung's birthday party.

Jungkook reaches back, and snatches the phone from him with a smirk. He reads what's written on the glowing screen. "You're cute too," he reads in a mocking voice, "I can't wait to see you again tomorrow. The party is at seven, right? And how am I supposed to get in again…"

Yoongi sits up and violently grabs his blackberry back. "Fucker," he grunts. Jungkook is amused.

"It's puppy love," he goads."Relax, you met like yesterday. We don't know her yet, why are you inviting her to Hoseok's?"

"She's hot," he defends.

"Does she have a nice personality?" Jungkook asks, half-jokingly.

"Yes!" Yoongi chimes.

Jungkook isn't a huge party person. He goes to make connections. Those are valuable. Guys who come to Cali to experience the Golden Coast take a pit stop in Santa Barbara to do their business or whatever. Their sons come with, along with their wallets and influence.

"Whatever," Jungkook looks out across the coast with his aviators perched upon his nose. The crash of the waves against the jagged rocks, foaming and fizzing, dragged back out by the tide could be heard over the radio.

The loose linen of Jungkook's shirt thrashes against his body. They're two miles from their destination.

There must be ten buggies parked outside Hoseok's. Namjoon lets out a sigh that sounds almost disappointed. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel before hopping out and shoving his lanyard in his pocket.

Jungkook plants his feet on the asphalt and follows them inside.

"Boys, boys, boys…" Jung Hoseok has two blondes on his arm standing at the doorway, wearing an unbuttoned polo shirt with his beach shorts and sandals. He lets go of them, reaching out his hand to shake with Namjoon.

Jungkook purses his lips to keep from laughing. He hasn't changed a bit.

The first time Jungkook had met this high roller was at a frat party at UCSB. He was sitting at the center of attention in the living room, retelling his famous Adam Sandler story for the nth time. His wild gestures and projecting voice gained him a reputation on campus beyond that of his father's name. He knows how to keep the attention of a crowd, and this was what made him useful to Jungkook.

"Thought you could slip right under our noses, stop by Santa Barbara and not visit, yo--" He pointed at all three of them, severity in his tone, "Don't you come by here without talking to me, got it? We gotta keep in touch, it's what we do."

Namjoon nods, holding his hands out in front of him in a relaxed position.

Yoongi's already made himself at home, kicking his feet over the couch, laying upside down. He's texting that girl again.

Hoseok's eyes fall upon Jungkook, his hands in his pocket as if to appear non-threatening. "Hey, champ," he hugs him briefly, patting his back casually. "Good to have you, Great to have you," he corrects himself.

"Great to see you, Hobi, great to be here," Jungkook confirms. Hoseok's eyes check him up and down, impressed with his composition.

"Right," Hoseok rubs his hands together, clapping them once. "Would you all follow me into the kitchen? We have a lot to discuss and I'd like for it all to be done before," he whips out his watch, giving it a once-over, "Seven."

Namjoon nods in his direction, indicating for Jungkook and Yoongi to follow him down the expansive hallway. Paintings of the shore decorate the walls.

Rarely, Jungkook passes by a portrait of Hoseok in his younger years, wearing a proud grin in his suit and tie. He must have been sixteen or seventeen. His head is tilted upwards, as if he's looking far off into the distance with pride. A few paces ahead, a family portrait is fixed on display on the adjacent wall.

The picture is adorned with grand and intricate etchings on the frame, emanating an intimidating feeling of luxury. Jungkook pauses before it, examining it.

Hoseok pokes his head out from the kitchen, a smug look on his face. "Nice, right? That one's old. We're taking a new one next week in Gwangju."

Jungkook frees his eyes from the portrait and walks forward. "Cool," he says, banaly.

The Jung kitchen has character. It's old Italian-style, with cherry wood floors, complimentary cabinets, and charming granite countertops. The sink is located on the island, parallel to the stove which is fully electronic. The kitchen is open to a cozy livingroom area with a full view of the cliffed coast, the ocean churning beneath. The warm light of the iron chandelier is the only light.

Hoseok's hands spread like wings across the countertop, his eyes flickering up to meet the solemn stares of the men before him. Jungkook pouts, his mouth agape as he listens closely to the words about to be uttered. Namjoon tucks his hands under his arms, taking a defensive stance. Yoongi holds a receptive posture, holding his wrist in his fist.

"Let me make one thing clear," he dictates, "That is, we are not to mob him. We are to coerce him. Mind you, this man has a monopoly over Rip Curl and Gold Coast. This is the only chance Jungkook has to convince him to tip the balance in his favor. If you blow this, we're done. Don't you dare show your face in this house again," his eyes sat on Jungkook. "Don't you dare."

Jungkook makes a highfalutin face, then shakes his head.

"Right," Namjoon chimes in. "Now tell us how you're going to make it work," he deflects.

"I was getting to that," Hoseok hugs his triceps.

"Then say it," Yoongi says, bluntly.

"I was going to, you little sh--" He sucks in a breath, clenching his fist. "Okay. He has a daughter, she's not bad looking, Jungkook just needs to ask her out and boom. Babygirl's boyfriend always wins."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, unfolding before the table. "Fuck, Hoseok. You couldn't have said that in the group chat?"

"No! Group meetings are chill," he whines. "Besides, I needed you guys here early so you could help set up for the party." Come to think of it, the place is kinda trashed.

"Why didn't you get your girlfriends over there to do it?" Yoongi gestures over to the pair laying across the couch in a lounging position, watching television.

"Carly's favorite show is on, and Melanie just got her manipedi," he says, obviously, "Mind you, I'm not ruining her manicure by forcing her to make charcuterie boards. Do you know how hard it is to cut fruit and handle deli meats with long nails?" He pauses, as if expecting them to answer.

"No," Jungkook resounds.

Namjoon stifles a laugh, amused by their interaction. "Look, whatever. Let's help set up the party."

Jungkook's hands slice the food with precision, minding the blade as he prepares a presentable dish for tonight's dinner party. Namjoon is on dusting duty, making sure all surfaces are clear of any dust or grime. He works around Jungkook, swerving his paper towel past his station.

He throws the rag in the laundry bin, having done his part. "You're a good kid," he pats Jungkook's back before checking up on Hoseok in the dining room.

"Doubt it," Jungkook breathes, putting down his knife. He scoops the mixed bell peppers in his tattooed hands, transferring them into a bowl for the stir fry. He covers them as he checks the fridge for any decent cuts of meat.

Come to think of it, Jungkook is, indeed, not a good kid. At all. He's a total dick, and he knows that. He knew it when he dumped Abigail Williams in the ninth grade because she got braces. He knew it when he cheated off of Fredrick Dunbar on the final exam, the only reason he got to be on the soccer team next semester-- hell, he even spiked the votes for homecoming king in his senior year just so that he would go home with Jessica Roberts that night, wine, dine, and sixty-nine her.

But for some odd reason-- for some off-putting and perhaps even cynical reason-- Namjoon was convinced that Jungkook would do right by him.

The only reason that Jungkook hadn't fucked up being a professional surfer is because of that miraculous faith that his manager and best friend had in him.

For the first time in his life, he was doing something by the book, and it instilled a sense of pride in him. He would have to throw that all away if he was going to pretend to be interested in you tonight.

Jungkook adjusts his tie at the dinner table, sitting across from you and your father. He eyes you, hinting at his attraction. No doubt, you are a very pretty girl. It would be a breeze to declare that you had stolen his heart the very first night he saw you. It would be a romantic and convincing story to your father, who is currently cutting his steak, conversing with Hoseok, the man of the hour. All he has to do is sit there and look pretty, charm you.

You have your legs crossed politely as you eat dinner, eavesdropping on the conversations happening at the table. You aren't the talkative type, you'd much rather keep your ears open. Perhaps the men will let something slip, something useful. You're cunning, and Jungkook will soon realize this about you. For now, you're just a pretty face, something to conquer.

Namjoon wipes his face with a napkin, putting a champagne glass to his lips as he continues his discussion of geopolitics, slowly transitioning to the topic of the competitions your father is hosting very soon. "You're hosting the Rip Curl soon, isn't that right?" He asks, although he knows the answer. "Jungkook here is looking to compete," he mentions casually, patting the boys back.

Jungkook nods with a courteous smile, peeling his eyes off of you for a moment. "Yes sir, I am. And might I say, I'm quite taken by your daughter."

You nearly gag on your champagne. You haven't even talked to the guy, and now he's making moves on you through your own father? You can't tell if that makes him a total hunk or just a pretentious fuck. Dad sends a smile your way. That's your cue to say something.

"Thank you," you reply, vivaciously. His eyes soften, as if he takes it to heart. You aren't quite sure what his goal is. It doesn't scare you so much as it intrigues you.

Later that night, the men are playing pool in a separate room while you're left to your own devices.

In the darker parts of your reflection, the ocean and the glittered sky is visible. You're hypnotized by it. You approach closer, feeling called to the waves like a sailor to a siren, finding a strange serenity in the hushing of the water. Placing your hand against the cool glass, you shiver.

"Hey--"

"Ah!" You jump.

Jungkook erupts in laughter. "Your face!"

You don't find it nearly as funny as he's making it out to be. "That's unfair. You snuck up on me. What do you even want?"

"I came to properly introduce myself, and I came to apologize. I didn't mean to hit on you in front of your Dad. That must have felt awkward," he approaches you with his hands behind his back. At least he's self-aware, that's good.

"That's okay," you say. His eyes settle on a necklace that hangs delicately around your neck on a silver chain.

"Is that a locket? Can I see it?" He releases his hands, lowering his tone. He's handsome from this angle, tall, well-built, with pretty skin and almond eyes.

Your hands reach to the back of your neck as you unclasp the locket, handing it in his wide, open palm. He struggles with the clasp before opening it, relieved to see it is not a picture of your boyfriend, but of your mother.

"She looks so much like you," he says. "That's so sweet of you, to keep her close to your heart like that?" The clacking of the billiard balls followed by a mix of groans and cheers are heard in the background.

"Shouldn't you be playing with my Dad?" You take the necklace back from his hands, hastily clipping it back around your neck.

"I would much rather play with you, doll," he hums.

"Nice," you say, sarcastically. You want to deny him badly, but there's something undeniably attractive about the way he handles himself. You wonder how he'd say your name. You must introduce yourself now.

"My name is Y/N," you interrupt your shared silence.

"Y/N." It melts on his tongue. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Jungkook," he takes your hand and kisses it. It's obvious that Jungkook does not come from a background of wealth, so it feels almost sarcastic to witness him acting so gentlemanlike.

"Pleasure is all mine, I am sure," you assure. Before you could notice, you're significantly closer to him than where you had initially started. In that brief moment, a thought arises in Jungkook's mind, but is interrupted.

"We should keep in touch, right? You're going to fly out to Sydney soon? You'll need someone to show you around the city," you ramble.

"Yes, I want that," he hums, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He hands it to you. It's touchscreen, so you simply write down your contact on his notes app.

"Cool," he breathes, putting it away.

The guys have wrapped up their last game, and you have a flight to catch tomorrow morning. You know your dad's going to have a hangover, and that's going to be a pain in the ass to deal with.

"I'm so sorry," you shake your head. "I need to go, we shouldn't have stayed this long." It's impossible to walk in these heels, you don't know why you wore them.

"Having a Cinderella moment, I see. Okay." Jungkook remarks while you're looking through your bag for your phone to call the chauffeur. Putting the phone to your ear, you nod goodbye to Jungkook and escort your father out of the house, silently thanking Hoseok for the dinner.

Jungkook puts his hands in his pockets, his jaw stretching into a yawn. Sweet, he's got your number. That was the hard part. Now all he has to do is message you tonight and he's got the competition in the bag. He celebrates by pouring the last of the Don Pérignon into a flute and drinking it, bottoms-up.

He makes a sour face, holding the glass far from his face and shrugs. Rich people have weird tastes.

Late in the night, Jungkook turns over in his bed, awake. He lays in the center of the bed, a comforter pulled over his naked body while rolls of thunder crash. The wind whips the rain against the window. Echoes of memories not quite within reach for Jungkook flash like lightning in his consciousness. He rubs his eyes and sits up, groaning. There's a pounding in his head he cannot seem to get rid of.

He's coated in his own sweat, facing a painting that covers the wall opposite to him. The art is abstract, and barely any light reaches it. He tries to make something of it, but to no avail. It just looks like meaningless blobs.

"The ocean is a meaningless blob," he rasps. It's quite an intelligent statement. He's right. What is the meaning of standing on what's basically a long piece of wood and propelling yourself back towards shore, from whence you came from? It's a learned skill. It's about performance and agility. Jungkook is an athlete, just as the person who painted this painting is an artist.

Part of being a competitive surfer is getting up at 4 AM to catch a 8 AM flight to Sydney with a layover in Honolulu

Before the sun rises, Jungkook rises.

That being said, it takes every fiber of his strength to not collapse on the guest bed and sleep through the morning. The thought of sinking his teeth into Namjoon's famous breakfast sandwich is his sole motivation to leave the bed.

Yoongi emerges from his room. He totally dipped during the dinner party to hang out with that girl he likes.

He looks tired as hell. He's hanging over the countertop, brewing his coffee with a remorseful look on his face.

"You're a happy camper," Namjoons comments, throwing a pad of butter on the pan, hearing it sizzle.

"Don't wanna talk about it," he mutters at Jungkook, who's passing by to grab a pain au chocolat.

"I didn't ask," he snarkily replies. They need to keep quiet because Hoseok is still sleeping upstairs. All the bags are in the front, and everything they need is with Namjoon. Jungkook takes a bite of his pastry.

When it's time to leave, the kitchen is clean, and the sky is just beginning to change color. It's six in the morning at LAX.

Checking in, getting through security, and finding the correct terminal were all tedious. All of the documents were in place, and everything went relatively smoothly, but Jungkook anticipated getting on the plane and taking a nap for the entire flight.

There would be no internet on their flight, and Jungkook didn't feel like watching the shitty in-flight movies, so he decided to take a walk around one of those airport bookstores that sold magazines and pillowcases and such.

He immediately grabbed a pack of gum, knowing from years of commercial flights that chewing gum helps with depressurizing his ears after take-off. His favorite flavor is spearmint, although peppermint is okay, too.

He scans the shelves for anything that resembles a drama. No one knows that about him, that he's a sucker for a good historical drama. There was something about the language that enticed him. Everything was much more romantic back then.

So, you might be wondering, at this point in the story, why Jungkook is so stubborn about love if he's such a hopeless romantic. The answer to that is that he recognizes that love is simply that, a fantasy. He could date to marry, spend years struggling with the marriage only for it to end up as a messy divorce over some adult bullshit like fiances.

He just doesn't see the point of a real relationship. The fake one he's brewing up with you, though, that's business. It's just politics. He can work with that.

Namjoon, however, has an opposite philosophy when it comes to love. He has dated two people since Jungkook first met him, and both of them were long-term relationships that ended on good terms. But that's because Namjoon is just the perfect guy, isn't he? Jungkook thinks it makes Namjoon weak, but in reality, it's because he's afraid of that kind of vulnerability and therefore struggles with intimacy.

Jungkook realizes he's been staring at the cover of Cosmopolitan far too long for it to be normal. He clears his throat, grabs the book he wants along with the pack of gum, and pays at the counter. The flight is boarding soon, and he can already hear Joon shouting for him.

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard. This is your Captain speaking. On behalf of JetBlue, it is my pleasure to welcome you aboard flight 561 with service to Honolulu and continuing service to Sydney. Our local time is 8:29 AM, 6:29 AM Honolulu time. We should arrive in just under six hours, that is 11:29 AM in Honolulu. We are not expecting turbulence this morning, so it will be a smooth ride there. Once again, welcome aboard, and enjoy your flight.

"Here," Namjoon hands Jungkook a blanket he packed. "I got one for Yoongi too," he grins. He has a whole bag of snacks, water, a first aid kid, and the Ziploc bag with all of their documents labeled with their contact information at his feet for easy access. Jungkook isn't surprised in the least. Namjoon typically overthinks this sort of thing, and when he overthinks, he obsessively plans.

Jungkook just smiles and takes the blanket. He knows how much it means to him.

The long, winding roads of Sydney have always reminded you of Italy. The influence takes one by surprise; who would have thought that a country on the opposite side of the world would have so much influence on the architecture, but the rugged stone walls and hanging lights that weave through the narrow walkways mirror those found in a city like Rome or Florence.

You're lucky enough to own a property on the water. It was modest, at just under three thousand feet. You never spent too much time indoors, anyways. There's always something to do out there.

The Westfield shopping centre is the place to be. It features your favorite luxury stores, in the hands of the people who have known you by name for years. You've never had an unsatisfactory experience. The exuberance of the environment exhilarates you, it is so good to be back in Australia.

But you didn't come visit just to shop. That would be a shame. You had people to meet, places to be, Aussie men to flirt with. You place a phone call to your chauffeur. You'll be going out tonight.

You've gone to your fair share of clubs in your youth, but tonight didn't feel like one of those nights. A visit to one of your favorite social spots, that doubles as one of the most famous cocktail bars in Sydney, will do the trick.

There's a special someone who's on your mind, though, and you almost squeal upon hearing the news that he's landed safely in your city. Mr.Jeon Jungkook, your latest boy crush and the guy you've been talking to for the past few days, will be meeting you there.

He's wearing sunglasses indoors like he's famous.

"I don't know who you think you are," you smile. He looks like he's an undercover celebrity or something. You approach him, leaning over on the bar counter. He's holding a thick glass of craft beer, flashing a smile.

"Nice to see you too, doll," he leers. He puts down his glass and hugs you, the coldness of his leather jacket against your skin. He's wearing cologne, a deep and mysterious sandalwood scent with a vanilla undertone. You squeeze him one last time.

"So you're competing this weekend? Rip Curl is a big deal," you hum, keeping your hands on his chest with a smile.

"I am, I landed this morning. I still can't believe they canceled my flight. The only one available was one three days later, so I was stuck in one of the best surf spots in the world for three days…" Jungkook hisses sarcastically. "Total bummer."

"Well you're just in time," you assure. With a quick gesture to the bartender, you order your regular with a side of wings. "The night is young. This is just our rendezvous point."

Jungkook raises his glass to that.

Back at the hotel, Namjoon is looking over the registration for the competition. This schedule has to be on point. He leans back on his chair in front of his laptop, scanning that everything's there before shutting it down and pushing his chair out from under the desk.

Yoongi emerges from the bathroom with a towel resting comfortably over his adonis belt. His short black hair covers half of his face, his lips in a small pout. He walks to his bed, opening his small suitcase.

"He's out with y/n." Namjoon checks his phone for the time. "I'm pretty sure he's getting laid," he laughs.

"Even love is politics to him, I kinda feel bad for her." He grabs his deodorant out of a small toiletry bag.

"I have this feeling about her, I don't know," he sighs.

Yoongi shoots him a disapproving look."What do you mean?"

"I think he might fall for her. She's beautiful...the exact opposite of him, but beautiful," Namjoon says, reaching for his hoodie on the bed. "It's not long before he realizes his tough guy act is bullshit."

"Jungkook would sell his left nut before he admits he has feelings for someone," Yoongi scoffs. Namjoon shrugs.

"Only time will tell."

The movie starts at eight o'clock. You and Jungkook are only a little buzzed outside of the theater. He smells faintly like beer, but you're too in love to care. He has you in his arms, rocking you softly and laughing at an old funny story.

It's cold, and you use that as an excuse to wrap your arms around Jungkook's waist, under his jacket. His chest rises and falls softly, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your face. He gathers the wisps of your hair and tucks them behind your ear. If Dad saw you like this he'd have a heart attack.

He's perfect. Throughout this whole day, he's been nothing but an angel towards you. After you met up at the bar, you went for some late night frozen yogurt before spending the entire drive making out in the backseat of the car. Your lips taste like strawberries, and it drives him wild.

"C'mon doll, we gotta get inside," he hums.

"Do we have to?" you sigh, prompting Jungkook to check his wristwatch for the time. The time reads seven forty-five.

"Yesss~" he insists, unlatching you from his waist and firmly weaving his fingers into yours. He rubs the back of your hand as you walk into the theatre, the scent of popcorn and the cold air hitting you both. The film begins shortly.

Throughout the film, Jungkook's arm is around you, and he seems to pull you closer with every passing minute. His lips chastely kiss the top of your head, relaxed by your scent. For a moment, he slips out of his cover, just to watch your eyes.

You're so perfect, it feels like a dream. You're kind to him, and you talk to him like you're genuinely interested in what he has to say, even if it's dumb.

Walking home, he explains his wildest stories about highschool parties, following them up with nostalgic conversations about his favorite TV shows, citing the significance that Power Rangers had on him and his dreams as a kid.

As you walk beside him, you watch the way his eyes light up looking back at you, a stifled smile peeking through his lips. For a moment, you're his.

The brilliant moon dazzles, the playful reflection of it glittering in the peaking water in the distance. The lights of the city, warm as a fire, are a gentle glow and a heartwarming welcome to the boats docking at the port.

Your house in Sydney isn't as lived-in as you'd like it to be. The walls aren't bare, the cabinets aren't bare, but the cleanliness of the place is off-putting. It is a summer home that you bought to retreat with your boyfriends and have parties when you were younger with friends you had met at your Dad's contests.

There were so many men you had met just like Jungkook. They're handsome, young, and want to win your Daddy's surfing competition, and you want someone to keep your bed warm for the night and your heart full, no matter the means. It occurred to you that your value, according to the men who dated you, waxed and waned like phases of the moon depending whether or not your Daddy's going to host a competition.

That was fine. It was your fantasy. Going out all day with Jungkook, pretending like he gave a shit about your feelings. He had to fake it to make it, right? You couldn't blame him if you tried. You knew.

Still, you take him upstairs and tell him to undress. Still, you tell him you want it badly. Still, you drop on your knees and pull his cock out to kiss the tip like he's yours.

Your tongue coats the entire slit, sweeping below to suck and kiss at the underside with his hands grabbing at the bed sheets. He gasps and whines, his eyes fluttering with pleasure as you adorn his cock with your pretty mouth. You take it in your throat, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing softly, his thighs flexing as the tip of his pretty dick brushes the back of your throat. Jungkook strokes your cheek with his thumb, warning you that he'll cum if you don't let off.

He pants wildly, his hand carding through his long, black hair. There's the look you're looking for. He's desperate. God, you love it when the desperation fills their eyes. They always fuck you harder when they're desperate.

He uses you as a pawn. Jungkook is a politician. He uses sex like a tool in order to get what he wants. You're a whore and love being one, love being used by the men who win the competition because you love being their trophy. You encourage him to use you like that.

Fuck you like that.

Feel you like that.

Take you by your pretty pearls and fuck yourr pussy raw until it drips with the victor's cum.

He manipulates you to where his head is buried between your legs, kissing, sucking, licking and thrusting at you with his tongue while his hands are settled on either one of your thighs, firmly keeping your hips connected to his hot mouth. He explores your texture and taste, amazed at just how much arousal replenishes itself when he teases your clit enough. His chin coated with your arousal, he shifts up to kiss you with vigor, hissing as his cock slaps against your abdomen. It's heavier than you're used to, girthier than you're used to. That thrills you.

You spend a moment fishing for a condom in your nightstand before ripping the foil package and hastily rolling the lubricated latex down his entire length, keeping his eyes on you.

You readjust yourself, your thighs draping over his thighs casually as his lips clash with yours, hungrily groaning while his hands press his tip into your tight cunt. He groans instantly, cursing under his breath.

He leans back with a wry smile painted on his face. "Fuck, you're tight. My tongue didn't stretch you enough, did it, doll?" You play with the hair on his nape, shaking your head, amused.

"Mmmh…" you hum. He cautiously presses in, his fingers making light work of your sensitive cunt, tracing small and tight circles on your clit as he fills you out.

You tense, your mouth gaping open in surprise as a wave of arousal. Slightly concerned, Jungkook hovers over your face, examining it before feeling you clench hard around him and coat him with it. "Hhoooly fuck,"

You caress his jaw, enticing him closer to kiss your lips deeply as he penetrates you. You retreat softly, opting to kiss his mandible, instead.

His body pulls and pushes you like waves crashing on sand, his body tensing and releasing as he engages each muscle to please you. Just as the tide rolls in, he comes in to reap your abundant pleasure from your body until the sun surges beyond the blue horizon, rippling water refracting its rays in an elegant, shimmering dance.

You're early out of bed. You've made it a habit to get up early to greet the day, because every day deserves to be seized. The potential excites you.

You shower, cleaning every surface of your body and covering yourself in the perfume of your soaps. The steam cleanses you, leaving you feeling refreshed. You come out of the shower, a simple robe wrapped around your body. You sit at your vanity, opening up your collection of perfumes and beauty products. Jungkook hovers over you, his clothes thrown on him.

"We fucked on the first date, so you're definitely going to win, aren't you? You're a winner, Jungkook," you say as you do your makeup in front of the vanity. You snap your foundation close, watching for any blemishes in your skin.

"What are you talking about?" Jungkook smiles, approaching you confidently. "Of course I'm gonna win, I'm the best competitor," he says with no hesitation.

"Hm," you sigh. "Do you think you're the first to have this idea, Jeon? Date his daughter, he'll do anything to make his babygirl happy? Newsflash!" You smirk.

You put your gloss down and meet his eyes. He's terrified. He's horrified. He's more naked than he was last night at this very moment, and he doesn't know how to handle himself. A kind of numbness radiates through his body.

"That's right," you hush. "Now...Listen closely."

All the color flushes from his face, his pale complexion next to ghostly, even in the morning sun.

"At this point I don't care if you're just using me, truth is, I know you are and what happens next. All I ask is for you to be my little fantasy for this week and pretend you love me even when you're leaving me."

"It's not much to ask, Jeon," you bat your pretty eyes. "Just be my little boyfriend. You win the competition, I get to feel something again."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jungkook snaps out of it, pushing you off of him. He shakes his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"I'm talking about the fact that we both need each other. You don't love me, Jeon. You're a businessman, snap out of it." You're right. This is all fake, and that's how he wanted it.

So, as to why it takes all of his strength to not scream out another lie, Jungkook is left without an answer. This is all that he's ever wanted from you.

"Look," you sigh. "There's a benefit to us being together, just like there was a benefit of a relationship between a duke and a princess. You want that gold, don't you? I want you," you hum, caressing his face.

"Don't be a pussy about it."

Jungkook reaches for your hand and plucks it off his face, lowering it while staring deeply into you and then fleeing.

You're left standing in your own bedroom, contemplating his reaction.

Namjoon picks up his fork at the downstairs breakfast bar, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth as Yoongi sits opposite of him with his arms crossed.

"The eggs are not going anywhere…" Yoongi slurs, watching Namjoon with an amused sneer. Namjoon shoots him a look and continues eating.

"Good morning!" Someone who looks like they work at the hotel approaches their table. Namjoon puts his fork down and greets her.

"Good morning. Can I help you?" He says.

"Yes! Actually…" The girl is blushing, as if she's embarrassed for asking. "Aren't you Jungkook's manager? Is he in town?"

Yoongi eyes her. "Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could get an autograph? He'll be competing here tomorrow, right?" She sheepishly pulls out a small, folded photo of Jungkook at the 2005 junior championships in Santa Barbara and hands it to Yoongi.

He looks so young here. He's actually got some light in his eyes, wearing a genuine smile. The picture depicts him running out of the water with one of his antiquated boards under his arm, confident in his run. Yoongi purses his lips and glances up at the fan.

"Yeah, sure." Namjoon takes the picture from Yoongi's fingertips and takes a good look at it. "I don't know when he'll be here, though, so no promise--"

Across the dining room, Jungkook appears with his hands in his pockets, clearly ticked off about something. He is visibly a mess, fidgeting with his bracelets and not making eye contact as he paces toward the table.

"Uh…" Yoongi trails, puzzled as Jungkook snaps open a silver sharpie and scribbles a signature on the photo, handing it back to the fan.

"Hey, thanks for supporting us," he nods before dismissing her. Jungkook forces a smile towards his friends and walks on his way toward the elevator. They share a look before gathering their belongings and following after him.

"The competition is about to begin, so everyone who is spectating, please proceed to the designated seating area!" A coordinator booms through a megaphone. There's a slight drizzle, the soft sand polka-dotted with rain. Your feet are buried in it and you're sitting with your binoculars on your lap facing the ocean. Today is humid; the excitement and anxiety in the air hangs heavy.

You cross your legs, glancing down at the itinerary. The venue is pretty empty, except for a few very important spectators who your Dad invited to witness the competition. They're all from the world surf league, judging prospects and looking over statistics in order to calculate whether or not someone's worth sponsoring. It's all very tedious work.

In the parking lot, Jungkook is fumbling with his swim short strings, tying them together loosely. He adjusts his bracelets and takes a peek at the ocean. The waves look a little choppy right now, but they should clear up by noon. Right now the only thing on his mind is performing.

"So, what you don't want to do," Namjoon begins, handing Jungkook his surfboard, "is to not take risks. The WSL likes ambition, they want to see you attempt those more difficult jumps." He sets his hands on his hip, looking him once over. "Got it? Your head isn't in the clouds is it?"

"Nah," Jungkook sighs. "I got it. I know I do," he pulls his shoulders back. Namjoon has never seen Jungkook so down about a girl. It's ridiculous.

In Namjoon's perspective, Jungkook has never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was dangerous to fall in love with, the kind of guy that your best friends would whisper about during class or rant about in group calls to their best friends.

Seeing him like this was another kind of unnatural. The vulnerability made him soft. "You weren't like this when Hoseok told you the plan. You were all for it. Now, what's wrong?"

Jungkook does something he'd never thought he'd do previously. He pouted. "Cause...she's like," his voice gets quiet. "Cause she's hot…"

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. "Cause she's hot? You're fucked up, on that sweet shit for the girl you weren't supposed to get attached to?" He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Namjoon just says, "okay," instead, gesturing towards the entrance of the beach. "Go on."

"If Yoongi were here he'd laugh at your ass," Namjoon yells. From far away, Jungkook shakes his head.

He couldn't help it. Yesterday was the most fun he had in years, and it's something he'll keep in his heart forever. You're not interested in him, though. At least, you won't allow yourself to be seriously interested. It was like something out of a novel.

He thinks back to the romances he's read, about how the male protagonist was always forced to shift his perspective to then become a better man and finally get the girl.

He knows he should be respectful and give you your space. It's true that he is using you, but would it be entirely wrong of him to fall in love? It's not a bad thing to fall in love. He needs to be clear about how he feels about you. Maybe then you'll consider him. Right now he needs to get you out of his head.

The rain clears, the sun peaking through the clouds that paint the sky. A rolling wave emerges from the deep, marking the beginning of a long competition day.

It goes well, Jungkook is high enough in the ranks to win this thing, regardless of any interference. He might not even need your help. Proudly, you point to him as he completes a routine. "That's him, look."

Your father is busy speaking in a semi-huddle with his friends, not paying the slightest attention to the show. The judges are only barely watching Jungkook, buried in their clipboards. It's a rainy day, so no one really came out to see him.

Afterwards, you encounter him walking back to his stand after finishing his round. He screws the cap off of a water bottle and chugs it all down in record time. "What's up?" He pants.

"You were great out there, almost like you didn't even need my help."

"Oh yeah? Well maybe I didn't," he says, keeping a straight tone. He breaks into a smile, indicating that he's just playing with you. The way his chest fluctuates with every breath gives you flashbacks to last night when you were on top of him. Before you know it, you're spaced out.

"Uhm," he stutters. "Are you okay?"

"Mm? Oh," You lift your eyes, "Yes, mhm."

His face falls, remembering the state he had left you in earlier. "Hey, before I forget...I wanted to talk to you about what you said this morning? What did you mean by all of that, that thing about you being the princess and me being the duke?" Jungkook buries his board on the sand and stands before you now.

"That it's obvious we're using each other. You do like me because if I go out with you, you'll win the competition, right? I like you because I get to pretend...you're my actual boyfriend," you admit.

"What if I actually had feelings for you? What would you think then?" Jungkook implores.

"Do you have feelings for me, then?" You laugh. That's a ridiculous idea. What scares you is that he looks serious. How dare you even entertain it. He's a user. You've known his type, and they don't change until they're broken. You doubt you're the one to change things for him.

To Jungkook, you look insulted. His confidence is shot down, so he falls silent. Your eyes are on him, awaiting a response, still. "I do, actually," he says.

Clap!

A loud rumbling or crashing noise is heard after a blinding flash. Wind rushes through the judging tents, the rain pattering loudly against the roofs of the cabanas. Everything goes dark apart from the blazing lightning that erupts from the sky.

People come rushing into the cabanas, grabbing everything they can and running off the beach. Jungkook remains, his feet planted on the ground as wind thrashes his shorts and whips around his hair. "I like you, y/n. You can disqualify me from the competition, give the gold to someone else, I'll still like you. You're someone I can let my guard down around, I don't know." He mumbles. "You're a good person," he says, with his whole chest.

"I'm really not," you shake your head. "Even if I was, did you expect me to just forgive you for using me anyway so that we could date?"

Jungkook struggles with his thoughts before composing an answer. "Yes. I thought you felt the same way," he replied.

"I don't," you lie, gripping your itinerary. "We're having fun, but I need this to be temporary. I'm sorry."

Far in the distance, a voice calls out for Jungkook. He keeps his eyes on yours, filling with grief and utter despair. With hesitation, he turns from you and runs off with his board above his head, through the heavy rain.

The moment you saw his face when you'd uttered those words you regretted it. If you take back what you said now, you'd seem insincere. Maybe it really is for the best. That's what you tell yourself when you get on that flight back to New York City.

When Jungkook was younger, he thought that the world would be his. He felt like it already was. He had a sense of wonder about the world that persisted throughout his childhood. He was a shining light for all those who he came across. Maybe he wasn't the best student, but he didn't mind, so long as he enjoyed life to the fullest.

His Dad would drive him out on the weekends to the ocean, letting him lose himself in the endless waves. When he got back, he'd always sleep through the night.

Surfing became his biggest escape, and his best friend. It was his therapy and his refuge. Even when Namjoon couldn't console him, the ocean could. When his first girlfriend broke his heart, and left it shattered in pieces, he'd surf to get his mind off of the pain. You were the ocean that he let himself drown in.

You, with your disregard for what he felt for you. You, with your lustful intentions. You had abandoned him. Anger overcame him, one last fight against the forces pulling him into the abyss.

He lashes his body forward in an attempt to swim, but fails to tread the water.

Water fills his lungs and weighs his chest, his body aching with agony. It was as if you'd driven a blade through his chest and withdrew it, leaving a bleeding chasm of unrequited affection. You cast him off your ship, and as he sinks to the bottom of this boundless ocean, he keeps his eyes open to the twinkling sunlight seeping through the water, reaching for him. It is the last thing he sees before his body surrenders to the cold feeling, and he sleeps.

The following months go down like this: you continue with your life without giving Jungkook a second thought. Classes take up most of your time as the year matures, so little time is left for you to contemplate anything other than getting into graduate school at UC Santa Barbara. You want to feel like you've earned it, even if you probably didn't.

Jungkook goes back to California, having won gold at Rip Curl. He was approached by countless agencies and sponsors regarding the medal, but he turned all of them down, claiming he'd be on hiatus for personal reasons for the following season.

Namjoon discourages the decision, and they eventually go their separate ways. Conversation between them ran dry after a handful of weeks. They ran out of things to say to each other. Jungkook wasn't bitter about it. He understood.

Yoongi's still around. He did end up finding love with that girl he met at Taehyung's party. They're doing well. They're celebrating their two year anniversary together next month. Jungkook couldn't be happier for them.

As for you and Jungkook, when it comes time to update his phone, he loses your number. He does wonder about you, periodically. He heals.

Now he sits by the edge of the ocean, overlooking the horizon. He takes a breath, his feet in the water. It is a beautiful day today.

"If it isn't Jeon Jungkook," you say with a smile.

Jungkook whips his head back. "Y/N?!" He rises from the sand. He struggles to regain his balance, in disbelief. "Y/N!"

You nod frantically, grinning. He throws himself into your arms and hugs you the tightest he ever has. "Oh my God," he sighs. "What the fuck are you doing in Cali?"

"I'm doing my masters at UC Berkeley! Hoseok said you still lived around here, so I...kinda took a shot in the dark." He squeezes the life out of you, truly happy to see you again.

"Wow, that's great for you," he lets go, smiling bittersweetly. "Wow."

You shrug and set your bag down. "Also, I came to apologize for...literally everything that happened between us."

Jungkook shakes his head softly, keeping one hand on your arm. "No, you don't have to apologize. I fucked up too. I thought I was too good for love back then-- that sounds stupid," he laughs.

"No, it doesn't, really, it's fine!" You interject.

"Anyways, when you challenged that, I guess I kinda broke out of it. I should be thanking you."

There are a few key notable differences about Jungkook. He's cut off all his promise bracelets. He's wearing a big straw hat, an old pair of Ray-Bans, a button-down Hawaiian shirt, and colorful swim shorts, an outfit that he would have made fun of a retired surfer for wearing.

He seems a lot calmer, especially during your casual coffee date. He's telling you all these stories about how he navigated life after Sydney, and what he does for a living (he fixes cars and does odd jobs on the side). He's actually taking a few financial literacy courses at community college.

"So do you have, like, a wife now too, or?" You ask casually, bringing your coffee cup to your lips.

Jungkook laughs. "No, actually."

You pretend you're surprised. "Oh~"

"Surprising, right? I've always been such an eligible bachelor," he hisses, a smirk growing on his lips. "No. I'm single," he says with a sweet undertone.

"My ex left me the day I told him I was headed west. He couldn't handle the long distance," you sigh.

"At least he was honest." He forks a section of his waffle and eats it. "I could, I just haven't really…" met anyone quite like you, he wanted to say.

"Yeah, me neither."

In Jungkook's eyes, you've only gotten prettier. You're a little more reserved. It seems as if your days of going through men like dirty laundry are far behind you. He has to ask."How do you feel about yourself lately?"

"Weird question…" you trail.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it like...personal?" Jungkook stammers.

"No, it's okay," you place your hand over him on the table. "I feel a lot better. I'm ready to move on and start something new. California is it for me."

"You're getting my hopes up," he jokes. You give him a sincere look, indicating that he may be correct about your intentions. "Y/N...you didn't come all the way over here to UCSB just for the law program, did you?" He slowly realizes.

You shake your head. "No, I didn't."

"You came here to find me, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did."

Jungkook's eyes flicker down, contemplating what happens next. "I don't know," he concludes. "I want to get to know you better, for who you are now."

"That's fair. We were kids, right? Playing games with each other's hearts like it was nothing." Silence grows between you, not one of discomfort or contentedness, but one holding tension that one might identify as heated anticipation. It's almost sexual.

"Both of us," he says, "Both of us did things we regret. I don't regret falling for you." Jungkook wedges his fingers between yours on the wooden table. His hands are so warm. You're reminded of the day his body was tangled between yours, and how he embraced you.

You talk all night. You talk about what went wrong. You talk about what went right. You talked about his goals, his plans, his situation. Now that you're here maybe he'll consider going back out and catching a wave of two. He confesses that he hasn't grabbed his board and headed out there in years. You listen, intrigued by him and how much he's truly opened up.

He seems so much happier now. You can see it in his face. The wonder he had as a child has returned to his eyes. He no longer has to run from his feelings. "I'm so proud of you," you hum.

You hadn't taken notice until now, but it's now dark out.

The night sky sparkles above you, through the glass of the diner. The place is empty now. You're the only remaining couple still occupying a table.

The lights are dim, and there are only a few employees still tending to tables. They're whispering about some old rumor concerning the boss and his failed marriage.

"It's so late," you yawn, leaning on your hands.

"So it is," Jungkook rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in adoration. "Do you have a place to stay for the night?"

"No~" you whine. You're too tired to think.

"Would you let me take you home?" He asks, taking his credit card out of his wallet to pay. You nod. Two old movie tickets slip out of the leather. They're from that one day. Curiously, you pick them up.

"Did you actually keep these?" you laugh, softly.

"Mhm…" he hums. "It was one of the best days of my life." He holds them between his fingers as he pays the bill. He carefully tucks them back into his wallet afterwards.

You leave the booth, making sure everything was there in your Burberry purse before walking out to his car.

Down the road is the ocean. Waves crash against the shore loudly. Jungkook walks out into the parking lot, his footsteps tapping against the moonlit asphalt. You stay behind to watch, sitting on the curb of the pavement. The sounds of crickets surround you, a strange yet beautiful lullaby. You have a feeling you're right where you're supposed to be.

a/n: happy holidays.

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intomusings · 3 years

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﹒﹒ female names masterlist !

in honor of my second milestone on here , i’ve decided to release a master list of 400+ female names i personally love and think could be used more in the community . this was also requested by a few anons and names will be added to the list frequently . the names are sorted by first letter but not alphabetically within each letter category . if you found this useful , feel free to like or reblog to spread this !

A : aurianna, addison, alannah, allegra, alina, alma, andra, avril, abella, arizona, annalise, amelia, aspen, alejandra, ayla, ales, alessia, anessa, asia, aline, adrienne, avery, armani, adaline, arden.

B : blaire, brooke, brooklyn, bruna, bettina, bianca, becca, bella, bonnie, brielle, blake, bodhi, beverly, bambi, bronte, billie, briar, bria, birdie, brighton.

C : catalina, cerise, celeste, celene, carson, camila, cecilia, callista, cadence, cassie, carmen, cali, charlie, camryn, camille, clara, claudete, chantel, chachi, capri, cove, chanel.

D : diana, devi, dylan, daphne, dani, delphine, dahlia, delia, darcy, dawn, davina, dove, daisy, delaney, dua, darya, delilah, dixie, dior, dulce, dina, dayana.

E : ember, eloisa, eleonora, emara, elena, esme, emery, emmeline, elsa, eva, evie, emmy, estelle, esther, evelyn, erin, eliana, everly, emerson, elle, ezra, eiza, eden.

F : florence, franny, fiorella, faith, fiona, faye, farrah, freya, fern, flor, frankie.

G : giulia, giulianna, georgia, ginny, grecia, giselle, genevieve, gabbie, grace, genie, gaia, giada, gemma, geles, genele, gia, gwendolyn, geneva, gracen.

H : hazel, holland, helena, harlow, haven, hera, haley, houda, heidi, hana, harley, honey, hera.

I : isobel, ivana, irma, irina, isadora, imogen, isla, ivy, inessa, ibiza, irelynn, iliana, ilana, indya.

J : juliet, jayden, jordyn, jelena, jodie, jennie, jade, jesy, josie, june, jada, jemmye, jacey, janelle, juniper, jayla, jaliah, jewel, jane, johanna, jolie.

K : kendall, kensington, kennedy, katya, karlie, katerina, kailani, koral, kai, kaia, karma, kinsley, kylie, karina, korinna, karla, kemi, kate, kerigan, kali, kiyomi, kouvr.

L : lourdes, leandra, london, lucia, luisa, logan, lena, leonora, larissa, lydia, lorelai, lylah, lettie, lottie, lalisa, luna, lara, lia, lorena, livia, layla, leighton, lyra, lola, lainey, laurel, luella, lumi.

M : maricela, mariana, maeve, mabel, mila, marbella, maia, melody, mimi, monet, malauna, mira, mallory, millie, marla, mia, marvela, marni, madelaine, maleia, magnolia, maren.

N : nilsa, nutsa, nini, naomi, noa, nevlyn, nathaly, nicolette, nadira, nicola, nova, nany, nala, niaye, nyla, noelle, nathalie,

O : olympia, orianthi, octavia, opal, oriana, ophelia, orion, oakley, odessa, odette, odelia.

P : paola, paris, peyton, phebe, priyanka, paislee, paloma, pandora, parvati, piper, perla, pearl, pia, priya, pilar, paxon.

Q : quinn, quintessa.

R : rowan, rylie, rosalie, roslyn, raquel, rose, reign, renata, raegan, reyna, ryann, raya, rhiannon, ria, rue, rhodes.

S : serena, serafina, sawyer, sylvie, sol, samira, sloane, silver, sutton, stella, saanvi, sab, seren, seven, sophia, star, skye, sabina, saskia, summer, stormy, salena, sage, sonny, solange, sahar, sumaya, shelby.

T : tatum, tayler, tara, torre, tia, thea, tyra, truly, thalia, taryn, tampson, tayli, talya, teala, tala.

U : uma.

V : valencia, violetta, venus, verity, vanessa, venecia, vinnie, vida, vivienne, valentina, velora, vera, venice.

W : willow, winona, willa, wanda, witney, westlyn, windsor, wilhelmina, wren.

X : ximena, xiomara, xashary, xena, xyla.

Y : yovanna, yves, yara, yvette, yasmin, yesenia, yensi.

Z : zara, zion, zoe, zahara, zharia, zella, zendaya, zakiyah.

#female name masterlist #rpc #rpt #rph #name masterlist #name help #m:masterlist

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melwilson · 3 years

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from the sky | t.o.

pairing: thor odinson x reader

rating: fluff, angst kinda but only if you squint

warnings: a slight mention of anxiety. thor and reader being cute and domestic. i edited this at midnight so...i mean take it or leave it

“Zeus! Time to eat, buddy!” Your voice rang loud as you stepped out the door of your home. You whistled, eyes looking for the three year old German shepherd. “Zeus!” You raised your hand above your face as you stepped out from under the awning. The sun was just beginning to set, replacing the painted blue sky with beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow. Sunsets like these weren’t uncommon in the Arizona desert and normally, Zeus would be back in the house before the sun would make its descent. You called for him one more time, but then you caught sight of his fluffy tail a little more than half a mile out. You quirked an eyebrow as you started towards him. As if he could feel your presence, the dog ran over to you nudging your knee before returning back over to where he was before.

“Oh my gosh,” you muttered to yourself. Zeus looked up at you and then back to the large man who laid face up on the ground. He was covered in dirt, grime, and blood. You dropped down to your knees hands hovering over his body. His chest rose and fell slowly as you racked your brain for something do.

You can’t just leave him here.

Like hell I can’t. This man looks like he just went to hell and back.

“God help me. Screw it.” You stood up taking the mans limp arms and attempted to tug him off the ground. He was hot. Too hot. And you started to wonder how long he had been unconscious in the Arizona heat. You wondered how he was still alive. The Arizona desert wasn’t kind to anyone. You had been living here for almost five years and there were days when the heat forced you to stay inside all day.

Letting out a grunt, you began to drag the man back to your house. Zeus ran ahead of you not even bothering to try and help you. By the time you had reached the house, you were a hot, panting mess of sweat and dirt. As carefully as you could, you dropped the man onto your couch, his hand knocking over the lamp that sat on the end table. You jumped at the sound, cringing at the broken glass you would have to clean up. Right now, the bruised man in front of you had your attention. Had he not looked like he had fought a war by himself, you would have definitely admired how attractive the blonde really was. But now was not the time. You grabbed your first aid kit from the kitchen before returning to the living room.

“What in the world is this man wearing?” You said to yourself. It wasn’t until now that you noticed the black and silver armor that covered the blonde’s broad torso and shoulders. Remnants of a red cape were attached to the back. You weren’t sure how long it took you to the get the armor off, but when you did you were sweating again. There was a large gash that ran the length of his torso. He was no longer bleeding, but the skin around it was red, puffy, and bruised dark shades of purple. In fact, multiple bruises littered a deep contrast against his tan skin. Your fingers grazed the area around the tattered skin gently before grabbing the alcohol. You cleansed the skin thoroughly before grabbing the tweezers and pulling out a few small rocks that were lodged in the torn skin. You cleansed the wound again before picking up the arnica. It’s a homeopathic herb that helps with pain and bruising. You took the gel and rubbed it on the discolored skin on his chest and around the wound. God, he was toned. Actually he was more than tone. His body looked like it had been carved from the gods themselves.

“Get it together, Y/n. There’s a random man in your living room.” After wiping the dirt from his face, you wiped the dust from your hands and grabbed a blanket to cover him with. Zeus nudged your knee, his brown eyes looking between you and the unknown human on your couch. You scratched behind his ear, tugging lightly on his collar. “Let’s go, boy.”

The next morning, you were stirred awake by the sunlight pouring in through your windows. The moment of peace didn’t last long before Zeus’s barking filled the small home. You jumped out of bed and ran to the living room being met with a very defensive Zeus and an equally as defensive blonde. He was sitting up straight, one arm around his waist. Once he saw you, he stood up swiftly, stumbling slightly and wincing as he ran clumsily into the wall. His eyes raked over your frame bouncing between you and the dog that had moved next to your feet.

“Who the hell are you?” His voice was a deep rumble that sent a wave of heat through your body. His stare was harsh as he awaited your answer.

“The woman who found in the middle of the desert,” you shot back. The blonde watched as you crossed your arms over your chest jutting out your hip. “Who the hell are you?” You struggled to hold his stare, his broad chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered. He tore through the bandages that had taken nearly thirty minutes to wrap. “Where’s my armor?” His question came out more as a command as he took a step toward you.

You stuck out a hand, coming in contact with his chest. “Slow down, big guy. You’re not going anywhere. That giant gash is gonna get infected the moment you step outside. Take a seat.” You nodded to the couch holding his blue eyes.

He took a step back eyes glancing down on the large cut that ran the length of his stomach. Deciding that you were probably right, he sat down on the brown leather watching as you took out the white bandage from the medkit. He watched intently as you began to re-wrap his torso visibly shivering from the graze of your finger tips. “Thank you.” His voice was as soft as his eyes. You could tell he was genuine as you gently placed two pats to his side signaling you were done.

“You’re welcome.” You stood up placing the medkit back in the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re not dead on my couch.”

The no-named blonde raised an eyebrow. “You expected me to be dead?”

You scoffed. “I thought you were dead when Zeus found you. You’d been laying in this heat for only God knows how long and had a wound that large. You shouldn’t be alive.” You paused. “How’d you end up in Arizona anyway and why were you dressed the way that you were? Comic-Con is usually in Cali.”

He tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. “Comic Con? I do not know of such thing. And I do not know how I ended up back on Earth.”

“What do you mean, ‘back on Earth?’ Y-you’re from outer space?”

A small smile tugged at the mans lips at your confused state. “I’m from Asgard of the nine realms.” Realization and shock covered your face. No wonder he was so...perfect. You suddenly became aware of the over-sized tee shirt and shorts you were wearing and the fact that you probably looked rough.

You swallowed. “Oh. I’m from America of the Earth.”

The blonde laughed. The sound booming and loud. “It’s a pleasure to meet you...”

“Y/n,” you finished quickly. “And lemme guess. You’re the god of thunder?”

“Thor,” he confirmed, “You know who I am?”

You rolled your eyes. “The whole world knows who you are, god of thunder.” You dropped his gaze, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I’m going to get dressed. I can find some new clothes and you can use the shower and clean up if you want.”

The giant man stood up following you to your room. You suddenly became all too aware of his presence in your room. In your space. You hadn’t been this close to a man in years. Entering your closet, you spotted some of your dad’s old tee shirts that you had “borrowed” when you moved. There was also a pair of joggers that would have to work until you went and got him more clothes.

“Here,” you said softly. “These will have to do for now. The other shower is in the guest bedroom. Down the hall on your left.”

He sent you a small smile, his frame towering over you. “Thank you, Y/n. Your kindness has not gone unnoticed. I am in your debt.”

You shook your head pushing him out of your room. “You don’t owe me anything, god of thunder. Just go shower.”

Thor was never unaware of his surroundings and never taken by surprise. But he was, however, confused on how he woke up in a mortal’s home in the middle of nowhere. He was taken aback by your kindness and willingness to let a stranger stay in your home. The moment he laid on eyes on you, he was captured by your beauty and the strength in your eyes.

He let his guard down.

You made him comfortable and he had only known you for all of twenty minutes.

He exited the bathroom, the smell of what he knew as bacon and eggs giving him a sense of home. He had missed Midgard. His plans to return were delayed by an unexpected rift between the nine realms. He didn’t remember anything or anyone who would have had the power to send him back, but he’s glad that they did. Because now he stands at the entrance to your kitchen, watching as you hum softly to a song he knew as Bennie and The Jets. Stark’s doing, of course.

“You just gonna stand there?” You turned around quickly, a smirk playing on your lips.

“I didn’t know that you were aware of my presence?”

You opened the door to the refrigerator to grab the orange juice. “You aren’t exactly quiet, god of thunder. You should eat while the food is hot. After you’re done we can go get you some clothes that fit.”

“There will be no need for the purchasing of more clothes. I will be returning promptly to Asgard.”

You placed a hand on your hip. “You need to heal fully before you leave to do whatever fighting you so promptly have to finish. I’m guessing it won’t be too long. You can stay here until you are well enough to fight again.”

“I no longer want to cause you any more trouble or risk your safety.”

“Thor.” You caught his attention at the mention of his name. “I don’t think my safety is at risk here. And you’re not causing me any trouble. In fact, this is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me all year. So just...stay.”

Over the next few days, you grew quite fond of the god of thunder. He slept on the couch, even though you said multiple times he could make himself comfortable in the guest bedroom. He helped around the house- cleaning up his own messes, taking Zeus out, he even offered to cook breakfast and dinner. You took him to the nearest clothing store, bought him a few plain colored tees and sweat shorts to keep him cool in the heat. You continued to change his bandages everyday though he insisted he could do it himself. Neither of you really wanted to take up on his offer. He enjoyed the feeling of your fingers grazing against his skin. However, the gash was healing faster than anticipated. The day before, you watched in awe as he summoned Mjolnir from wherever it had landed in the desert. You both knew it wouldn’t be long before he was back off to Asgard. That’s why you were soaking up all the time you had with the unexpected visitor. Thor brought an atmosphere of warmth and domesticity to your home that you’d never felt before. You enjoyed having the company of another person in your usually dull home.

Tonight, the two of you enjoyed Chinese takeout on the back porch. A couple of beers sat on next to you as you sat in silence.

“Lemme braid your hair.”

Thor glanced over at you. “What?”

“I would like to braid your hair,” you said again. “Please. It’ll look good, I promise.”

Thor’s blue eyes narrowed at you. “I’ve let no mortal touch my hair.”

You crossed your arms over your chest holding his stare. “Well, I am not any mortal. I happen to be the mortal who saved your life.”

“I would have survived regardless,” Thor shrugged, “but I understand your point.” He stood from his seat and settled himself on the ground between your legs, Zeus settling down next to him. “Be gentle.”

You chuckled taking his hair out his usual hair tie. You raked your hands gently through his hair before separating the hair into two sections. He hummed softly as you began to start a french braid. As you tied off the first side with a rubber band he spoke.

“How come you live out here alone?”

You sighed dropping your hands and Thor grunted in protest. “I don’t know. I’ve always been kinda on my own. After high school I decided that there was nothing left for me in my small hometown. I got a job offer here and went for it.”

“There’s never been anyone?”

You laughed softly. “No. Just me and Zeus until you stumbled along. My parents visit every now and then, but other than that I’m on own. S’not so bad. Arizona is beautiful. Good people, beautiful sunsets, and it’s warm year around. Perfect for me someone like me.”

“Like you?”

“You ask a lot of questions, god of thunder.” You finished the last braid tying it off securely. You placed both hands on Thor’s shoulders squeezing lightly. “All done.” He didn’t move. He stayed put between your legs squeezing your calves. “What’s wrong?”

Thor sucked in sharp breath. “I have to leave soon. Asgard, they need me.” He turned around placing his hands on your thighs. “Thank you for everything, Y/n. I’m still in your debt.”

It was a faint rustling in the living room that woke you up. Your eyes narrowed at the clock next to your bed. 5:37 a.m.

“You’re leaving? Without saying goodbye?” Your bottom lip was tugged between your teeth as you leaned against the living room wall. Thor had wanted to slip out quickly and quietly, but of course, you were a light sleeper. Even from across the room, he could see the tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t cry, dove.” His armor, washed and mended, thanks to you, engulfed his torso. His hands rested gently against your neck, thumbs rubbing tenderly at the smooth skin of your jaw.

“I don’t want you to go.” Your voice was shaky as you met Thor’s eyes. Your words didn’t do justice the way your heart was beginning to break and the anxiety that bubbling up inside of you. You did not want to be alone again. Not after knowing what it was like to be with someone who appreciated you. Someone who showed you that having the right person around wasn’t so bad.

The blonde placed the sweetest, most gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture only made your tears fall faster. “I’ll be home soon, love.” Home. Home with you. The woman he had unknowingly fallen in love within the two weeks he had known you. “I promise.”

As far as promises go, you weren’t sure if Thor’s would ever be fulfilled. It had been nearly a month since he left you standing on your back porch in the middle of the night. You cried most of the night, Zeus cuddled into your side. Never once did you think you would be this distraught over a man. He was on your mind every second of every damn day and you hated it. You hated how you could hear his booming laugh and could see that infectious smile was plastered in the back of your mind. You missed the late night talks you would entertain almost every night, only the stars around you. He was easy to talk to. He would listen, never pushed you to share anything, and then he would share about his adventures across the galaxy- fighting space monsters, waging wars, getting stabbed by a snake that was actually his brother.

Even Zeus was starting to miss the presence of the Asgardian. He would sit outside, eyes towards the sky, much like tonight. It was late. You should have been in bed, but you hadn’t been getting much sleep these days. The German shepherd sat your feet, the fire a few feet away casting shadows that danced across your face. You sighed taking a sip of the beer in your hand. The sky had never been this clear before and you had never felt so lonely. The stars lit up the sky in a beautiful array of constellations and formations bringing the remnants of a child-like wonder- a longing to understand what was beyond that dark abyss. And beyond that dark abyss was the home of a man you saw a future with. A man who changed your perspective on being alone. A man who had yet to return.

With a sad quirk of your lips, you stood up, eyes roaming the expanse above you once again and you said, “Come back to me, god of thunder.”

You tossed and turned for hours. At first you were too hot, then you realized you really needed a new mattress, then you realized it was no use in just laying there. But before you could swing your legs over the side of the bed, you were blinded by the brightest light. Rays of pink, blue, gold, orange, green, and purple shone magnificently through your bedroom window. You were out of the bed in an instant, feet carrying you to the back door before you could make any rational decisions. Zeus was outside in an instant, running wildly toward the shadow of a man. You, however, were rooted in place eyes narrowed as a sense of familiarity overcame you. The blonde stopped a few feet away from you, eyes locked with yours.

“I know that it’s been longer than expe-“

“I don’t care,” you said softly. You weren’t sure when the space between the two of you disappeared, but Thor’s hands tightly gripped your waist pulling you impossibly close. “You kept your promise.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you off guard, your eyes widening. “I- is that like an Asgardian thing you guys do or-“ Before you could finish your sentence, Thor’s lips were pressed to yours, quickly and effectively shutting you up. He could have kissed you forever. It was slow and gentle and bottled with emotion. Silent whispers of love and dancing fingers. You pulled away first, lips swollen and eyes dazed.

“You didn’t miss me too much, right?” The blonde kissed you again quickly, stealing your breath away.

You hummed, standing on your toes to kiss him again. “No, not at all.”

“You are a terrible liar, dove. And if it’s worth anything, I missed you.”

“Trust me, god of thunder. I missed you so much more.”

#thor odinson #thor odison x reader #thor odison imagine #chris hemsworth #thor #thor the dark world #thor ragnarok #loki #loki x reader #valkyrie mcu #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avenger imagines #the avengers

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s-e-v-e-n-24 · 3 years

Text

Late | Cali x New Mexico

Summary: California is late, for once, and a certain someone took that opportunity to steal his chair.

Now normally California was exceptionally early to meetings. By up to 20-30 minutes.

It had started as an accident, he had kept getting the times wrong and Cali had actually thought he'd shown up late. So late in fact everyone else had left.

Gradually, this had turned less I to a mix up in times, and more into a pride thing.

He was always early, always the first one there besides maybe the fed himself. The others had even started making jokes about it. Which, looking back, wasn't all that surprising, alot did find it rather annoying. Especially when he would lord it over some extremely late states.

Today however, did not go as planned and he was currently 15 minutes late. He cursed internally at himself, not looking forward to the others reactions to his tardiness. They'd surely tease him, like normal.

He cringed at the memories of having such pride for being early.

God! If only he hadn't made it this way, that if he was late people were going to make fun of it. Maybe if he hadn't said it out loud the chance of the others, particularly his western colleagues, wouldn't notice might be less then 100%.

Finally, California was facing the big oak doors. Frenzied chatter could be heard from inside, as well as various ranges of laughter.

Wow he really pitied Gov today, it sounded so chaotic. Surely he wouldn't help if he were to join now. He could just say he felt ill, or was doing some sort of errand or-

No.

Nope.

He's gotta go in. It's the responsible thing to do. And he was a very responsible state.

Cali takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, entering with what he hoped was an air of confidence.

He quickly flashed a smile at Gov and went to grab his seat. His hand swiped at empty air and he paused, confused.

A few snickers echoed around the room. A heat quickly rose to his cheeks. That's weird..his chair wasn't there.

A quick spin around and Cali could see the chair was, in fact, no where in the room, and all the other chairs been occupied.

New Mexico had a strange look on his face that might've been pride.

"..where's my seat?" Cali resists the urge to cross his arms, instead giving Gov a questioning look. Surely he knew who the culprit was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arizona turn to New Mexico with a grin on his face, New Mexico returning that look with a small shush. Rather suspicious..

"New Mexico took your chair as some sort of...prank or whatever? Or Revenge I'm not entirely sure."

Ah. So it was him.

California turned to face the offender, crossing his arms and giving him his best glare. He was slightly aware this guesture might make him look bratty, but he didn't exactly care in the moment.

New Mex looks up at him, grinning just as much as Ari now. "Why? What are you gonna do about it?"

He opens his mouth to give back what was likely a sassy retort, but closes it and tilting his head slightly. He had a better idea.

A smile curved his lips upward slightly as he sauntered his way over to New Mexico. He was forcibly quieting his anxious thoughts, there was no point for it, not like he could really back out now without at least looking weird.

It only took a second to cross the room and promptly plop himself in New Mex's lap.

The state under him made an indignant noise and when Cali looked him in the eyes, daring him to say something, to push him off, New Mex was bright red.

"If you're going to take away my chair I might as well use you as one." Cali said, giving him a smug look. He turned his face back to Gov.

"So, what were you talking about?"

#california #new mexico #california x new mexico #new mexico x california #ben brainard #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #wttt #wttsh #the statehouse #fanfics

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robinskey · 5 years

Text

Home (Billy x Reader)

Request: Hey! Wondering if you could do a Billy Hargrove x Reader on a roadtrip? Maybe heading back to Cali for a look around the old stomping grounds. Thank you much! 💚💜

A/N: Love the road trip idea! Thanks for requesting, my love! Hope you enjoy. :)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abuse (just the word “abusive”, basically-I don’t go into detail at all)

About a month before summer break, you and Billy decided to start planning a road trip to California.

Normally, Billy was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. He rarely used any forethought before making a decision. Instead, he preferred to play things by ear and just sort of hope for the best. Though his unpremeditated plans went awry, things usually worked out okay in the end.

When just doing something for himself, okay was enough. But this trip wasn’t just for himself. It was also for his girl-who had never visited the golden coast. For that reason, this trip had to be damn near perfect.

Billy picks you up in the Camaro one Sunday morning. While he helps you load your bags into the trunk, a low buzzing sound reaches your ear. For a moment, you wonder if something’s wrong with his engine. Then, you realize the hum is coming from him.

You fail to suppress a grin as you both get into the car.

“What?” Billy asks.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just like seeing you happy.”

Billy smirks and reaches across the console for your hand. His rough, calloused palm slides into yours, fingers intertwining.

“I’m always happy when I’m with you,” he says, even though you both know that’s a lie. He’d never admit it, but Billy’s expressed a plethora of emotions while in your presence. You’ve seen his anger flare at a guy for looking at you the wrong way; you’ve held Billy on the nights when his grief over the loss of his mother becomes too much to bear. And, even though he tries to act all macho, Billy has expressed his fears to you more than once-most of which revolve around his abusive father.

But you don’t want to think about Neil right now. You can’t think about him right now. So you simply smile back at Billy and listen as he lists off all the places you’re going to visit on the West Coast.

***

You and Billy take turns behind the wheel for the next day and a half. Because you both stocked up on snacks for the trip, you don’t need to stop for food. When you pull into truck stops to use the restrooms, you know you only have about thirty seconds before Billy will be calling into the bathroom, asking if you’re done in there yet.

Usually, you’d scold him for his impatience. Your boyfriend is seventeen years old, not an eight-year-old on his way to Disney World. But you see the way his eyes light up as he points out landmarks and hear the way he cheers with every state line crossed. Billy can’t wait to arrive in California-to arrive home.

At sunset on the second day, you make it to Arizona, the last state you need to pass through. You expect Billy to floor the gas and drive 100 miles per hour until you reach your destination. Thus, you’re shocked when your boyfriend turns to ask if you’d mind spending the night in a motel. However, getting a good night’s sleep on an actual mattress sounds like a dream after spending the last thirty hours powered by car naps, so you don’t question his decision.

Twenty minutes later, Billy pulls into the parking lot of a place called the Cactus Inn. (You make a joke about the bed being prickly and unstable, since succulents aren’t the best building material.) Billy scores a front-row spot only a few feet from the reception area. Aside from a beat-up pickup truck and an old station wagon, the lot is vacant. The lack of customers isn’t exactly the best sign, but you’re both exhausted and can’t fathom driving another mile tonight. You pay for a single room. The original key given to you by the concierge doesn’t even turn in the lock, so you offer to make the trip back to the main office while Billy stays with the bags.

“Oh!” The guy behind the counter drags out the word. He chuckles, then rifles around in the desk drawer, finally producing a key without a tag. “That lock is whack. Just take the skeleton key. It’ll unlock any room you want.”

You frown at the man, who-judging by his bloodshot eyes and blissed-out demeanor-has clearly been smoking something a little stronger than Billy’s cigarettes.

“Are you sure? Can’t you, like, get in trouble for that?”

The scruffy man shrugs indifferently. “Probably. But my dad owns this damn place. What’s he going to do, fire me?”

When you return to room 202, however, both Billy and the luggage have vanished. For a second, you think he went to sit in the Camaro, but the car’s empty, too. Then, a light clicks on behind the curtains, and a slim silhouette passes the window. The door flings open a half-second later. A shirtless Billy leans against the doorframe, one of his arms extended to the other side.

“Care to come in, beautiful?”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of why I got the key,” you say, ducking under the bridge formed by his body and the door. “How did you even get in?”

“Got bored. Picked the lock,” Billy explains as you zip open your duffel bag.

“I was gone two minutes, Billy. Two minutes, and you’re breaking into a hotel room,” you groan, pulling out your toothbrush and toothpaste, along with a fresh t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. You duck into the bathroom to change.

“We already paid for the hotel room, Y/N. It’s not breaking in if it’s yours,” Billy calls. He allows the door to creak shut, and metal squeaks as he moves the chain into place.

“I’m pretty sure any time you can’t enter a building without picking the lock, it counts as breaking in.” You yank your shirt over your head, hop into your trousers, and unscrew the lid from your tube of toothpaste.

“Whatever.” There’s a rustling sound; then, Billy appears at your shoulder with his toothbrush. You squeeze a bit of paste onto his brush, then yours.

As the two of you scrub at your teeth, you watch your reflection in the mirror. The backdrop of the dismal hotel room fades away, and you picture this scene in a different setting: in the future home you’ll share with the love of your life. You get so caught up in your fantasy that Billy has to gently nudge you out of the way so he can spit into the sink. After he’s washed his mouth out with water, he presses his chapped lips to your bare shoulder. The contact sends a shiver up your spine that jolts you out of your daydream.

Springs creak as Billy settles into the bed. He holds the covers up so you can crawl in, then reaches over you to flick off the light switch, submerging you both into darkness. Billy’s toned arms wind around your waist, fingers interlacing over your stomach. He buries his face into the nuzzle of your neck, and his slightly scruffy face tickles your skin.

“This time tomorrow, we’ll be falling asleep to the sound of waves crashing on the sand,” he murmurs.

“Can’t wait.”

That’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.

***

When Billy tries to drag you out of bed at three in the morning, you chuck pillows at his head. He dodges every single one of your terrible throws. You beg for another hour of rest; Billy promises you can sleep in the car. That isn’t enough to convince you to leave the down mattress and cotton sheets, so Billy picks you up bridal-style, plops you into the passenger seat, and hands you a wadded-up jacket to use as a pillow. You lean your head against the window, lips pressed into a pout.

Billy slips into the driver’s seat a few minutes later, having loaded all your things into the trunk. When he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, you curl your legs into your chest defiantly and stick your tongue out at him.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.”

“I certainly will be like this. We paid for a whole night in a hotel room, and you let me have four hours,” you huff.

“Well, first of all, I paid for the room, princess,” he says, backing out of the lot, “and second, we have to leave this early if we want to get to the beach on time.”

“On time?” you mumble. Your eyelids are heavy, so you shut them.

“On time to see the sun rise over the ocean,” Billy says, and there’s a sort of wistfulness in his tone that you’ve never heard before. If you were awake enough, you’d tease him about it.

But as it stands, your brain can barely process the words coming out of his mouth.

“That sounds nice,” you murmur before the world fades back to black.

***

“Y/N.”

“Mm?”

“Wake up, babe. We’re here.”

Your eyes flutter open and meet Billy’s. He’s leaning over you, his hands on your shoulders. For a second, you think that you’ve just arrived at another rest stop. Then, Billy gently tugs you out of the car. The air is dry and slightly chilly when the breeze hits your bare arms. Your feet sink into the earth ever so slightly; grains of sand lodge themselves between your toes. In the distance, an endless expanse of clear blue water ripples with movement and marine life.

The last of the stars have faded from the sky, replaced by a pale pink hue covered in fluffy clouds. The very top of an orange ball of light peeks above the horizon like a nervous toddler afraid of strangers. Billy hoists you onto the hood of the Camaro before hopping up himself. You swing your legs over his. He wraps his arms around your midsection and pulls you into his lap, just as the sun starts to appear above the skyline.

Low-tide waves collide with the shoreline. They glimmer with the golden reflection of the sunlight before retreating back into the depths of the ocean. As the sun rises higher above the water, more color bleeds into the atmosphere. The previously-pastel pink darkens into a vibrant salmon streaked with scarlet and sunflower yellow.

You glance up at Billy. He stares at the sea in awe. You slip one finger under his chin to draw his attention, and he gazes down at you with the same expression. His eyes glitter with wonder, nostalgia, and the reflection of the sun’s palette.

“What do you think?” he asks, breathless, even though you’ve barely moved in the last forty-eight hours.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, bringing your lips up to meet his. You swear you can already taste the saltwater on them, as if he simply absorbs it through the air.

“Welcome home, baby.”

Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundance0ffand0ms @scarrasco1325 @sweetboibilly @readinthegarden12

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

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jazzman-19-blog · 5 years

Text

Crazy Little Thing Called Life

*This picture doesn’t really go along with this chapter but I thought it was a cute photo :]*

A/N: Wow, Chapter 7 is finally here. Sorry for such the delay like always, I’m horrible at time management. This chapter gets a little steamy and of course ends in a cliff hanger. Sorry to do that to you. But a lot kinda of happens in this chapter and it’s all over the place so sorry for everything horrible in here. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Bye for now. ;]

~with lots of love, Jazzman~

Summary: A road trip/vacation between two old friends turn into something more(basic plot but whateva)

Song: Stand By Me by Ben E. King

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word count: 3993

Warnings: language, slight naughty things, horrible writing skills.

If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

*Reblogs/asks/opinions are appreciated!*

Ch. 7: Who’s The Blonde?

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This was the worst hangover you have ever experienced before in your entire life! Your head was pounding and throbbing, you felt like somebody had knocked you out. The room was spinning and the light from the windows were so bright, it was a pain to your eyes. You tried to stand up but when you got off the bed, your legs were weak that you almost fell, and oh my god, your stomach was whirling. Next thing you knew, you were running for the bathroom trying not to fall over on the way there. Sure, you had experienced small, little hangovers before but this, this was new. Maybe it’s because you had two whole bottles of wine last night. You can’t even remember anything from the night before, if you were being honest. You could have shared all of your feelings for Ben, with Ben, for all you knew! Your main concern right now, was getting rid of your sickness.

Ben walked into the bathroom from his room and saw you on the floor next to the toilet with your head down. He knew he heard someone throwing up when he walked into his room. He woke up an hour before you and had just gotten over his killer hangover. He crouched down beside you and lifted your hair out of your face and the toilet, you hadn’t really noticed that Ben walked in. You were too busy throwing up and your head was still throbbing.

“Love? Are you ok?” Ben asked as he rubbed your back to comfort you. As much as you loved Ben’s back rubs, you were not in the mood and you were too sick to care.

“Do I look like I’m OK?” You snapped at him as you placed your forehead against the seat of the toilet. You felt bad for snapping at him like that but god, you just needed some time alone right now.

“I’m sorry. I mean, do you need any help? Is there anything I can do?” Ben felt bad for you, he really did and he was just trying to be a good friend but damn, he just needed to give you some space right now.

“Yes Ben I’m fine! Can I please just be alone right now?” You were getting irritated and it wasn’t his fault. You didn’t even want to look him in the eyes or even lift up your head for that matter. Then another wave of nausea hit you and you ended back up in the toilet seat, throwing up everything in your stomach.

“Ok, I’ll be in my room if you need me…” He left through the bathroom door, into his room. Damn it, he was trying to be nice and here you are being a total bitch to him. You would call him back in here but you always stood by your word, even if you were wrong. What you didn’t know was that Ben didn’t stay in his room, he knew to give you space so he found another way to help. He went downstairs and made you tea to ease you up, got you some water to rehydrate you(that’s what he heard would help), and some ibuprofen to take for the headache. He secretly snuck back into your room and placed everything on your night stand next to your bed with a letter.

You felt like you were done puking but you were scared to go back to bed and have to run into the bathroom again. Your arms and legs felt weak but you pushed yourself up anyways and made your way out of the bathroom. Your hands tried to find things to hold onto as you made your way to your bed. Once you reached it, you moved all of the covers up and slid into it, all you wanted right now was some rest. That was until you realized the tea, water, and meds on your night stand. Of course you knew Ben put it there ‘cause it sure as hell wasn’t casper.

You sat up against the headboard and grabbed the ibuprofen and water, drinking the water as you took the medication. Your headache had gone down a little before, so maybe the meds would make it go down even more. As you were about to grab the tea, you noticed a little slip of paper under the warm cup. You pulled the note from under the tea and opened it. The slip of paper read:

I know you wanted space but I REALLY wanted to help because I felt bad, but I gave you some ibuprofen, tea, and water to at least help in some way. If there’s anything else you need, I’ll be in the room next door like always. Also I was gonna say let’s go to the beach today but your probably sick as fuck so we’ll just plan that for tomorrow but for right now I’m heading to the grocery store, if you need anything just text me! Ok bye Love! Get better soon!

Well ok then Ben. Damn it, why did he always have to be so nice to you even when your a complete bitch to him? You place the note back on the nightstand and resume back to your warm cup of tea. You just sat there and sipped your tea while thinking of anything you needed from the store. Nothing came to mind at the moment, but you knew the minute Ben comes back, you’ll finally remember something you needed. That’s just how your brain liked to play games with you. Stupid piece of shit, stop making life more difficult than it has to be.

Once you finished your cup of tea, you put the empty cup back on top of the note and tucked yourself away under the covers. Maybe taking a little nap wouldn’t hurt, Ben was out shopping so he probably wouldn’t care. Your eyelids suddenly got heavy and then before you knew it, you were passed out.

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

Ben decided to go out and go grocery shopping which is new to him. Sure, he went shopping with his mom but never by himself. It was new territory for him. Especially since he’s in a whole new state too. He didn’t know exactly what to get either but he didn’t want to call and disturb you. He went to this place called Vons, it had the same vibe as a Safeway back in Arizona so maybe it was all connected somehow.

He went through the aisles one by one and literally packed the cart with junk food and some alcohol to replace the two wine bottles you both drowned in last night. One girl came up to him and asked if something was wrong since he looked confused.

“No, I’m alright. I’m just new here actually.”

“You’ve never been to Vons?” She looked quite puzzled.

“No, but I also meant I’m new to Cali.” Ben chuckled as he saw how the girl’s face turned to a shade of pink from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I’m stupid, I didn’t realize that’s what you meant. Of course.”

“It’s alright, really, no need to be sorry love.” And with that, the random girl started to help him with his shopping once he explained everything and why he was here. She had to scurry away to her own cart but she gave him her number in case of anything. She seemed nice and she looked like she was in her 20’s. Sadly, he didn’t catch her name at all.

Ben checked out all of the items and was on his way home. He knew you would probably be asleep or dying over the pain. Either way he wanted to make sure you were at least better now than earlier. He pulled into the driveway and started to unload the groceries into the house from the back door. Once he was finished, he started putting all the food in the cabinets and the fridge and freezer. After that, he just went upstairs to check on you.

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

While Ben was away you took a relaxing nap. It was all you needed and the tea really did help. You woke up and checked the time to realize that you slept for only an hour. The hangover had gone away and you decided to go see if Ben was home yet. Right when you were about to walk out of your bedroom, you bumped into Ben at the door frame. You were about to fall back until Ben caught you with his arm.

“You alright Love?” His warm smile and soft, green eyes made you melt right into him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t notice you came back.” You smiled as you stood up straight, out of his grip. You walked over to your bed with the little bit of grace left in you and patted the bed for him to go and sit next to you. You were still in his Bumblebee outfit from last night.

Ben quickly walked over to the edge of your pink, fluffy bed and sat next to you. You were still kinda tired from earlier so you laid your head in Ben’s lap. His thighs were extremely warm even though it wasn’t even hot outside or inside. Ben’s face turned into a crimson red as you did so. He wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t really know what to do. So Ben just started fiddling with strands from your hair.

“Hey Ben?” You said in a low hum that sent goosebumps up his body.

“Yes Love?” Ben said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

“Can you sing something to me?” Your hand was on his thigh now as you stared off into the dresser across from your bed. You rubbed your index finger in a circular motion in only one spot on his right thigh.

“I don’t see why not, but I’m not very good.” Ben said as he was thinking of something to sing to you. He picked Stand By Me by Ben E. King. He loved that song and he knew every word. He started to hum the beginning.

“When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we’ll see

No I won’t be afraid, no I won’t be afraid

Just as long as you stand, stand by me

So darlin’, darlin’, stand by me, oh stand by me

Oh stand by me, stand by me

If the sky that we look upon

Should tumble and fall

Or the mountains should crumble to the sea

I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear

Just as long as you stand, stand by me

And darlin', darlin', stand by me, oh stand by me

Oh stand…”

Ben whispered the song and sang at such a low voice that it was making you sleepy again. You loved it when Ben sang to you, he has such a beautiful and deep voice. And only you get to hear it whenever you wanted.

Even though Ben was good at singing, you were great at many different instruments. Such as the double and electric bass, the piano, and the guitar. Sure Ben could sing but you were the talented little bean. At least that’s what Ben called you.

You had fallen fast asleep in Ben’s lap and weren’t planning on moving. He didn’t want to disturb you but he had to get ready for tonight. He decided to go out again but this time without you. Only so he doesn’t have to watch over you. At least, that’s what he would tell you later. He picked you up bridal style once again and laid you on your bed while tucking you in your cozy blanket. He tiptoed his way through the bathroom and into his room before shutting the door.

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

You woke up to find yourself in your bed and the morning light shining directly on you. It would be perfect if you weren’t so tired. All you remember is Ben singing to you before you passed out on his thigh. You want to get up but at the same time, you don’t. You’ve never been a morning person anyways. But you need to shower because you reek. Your hair was so greasy and matted. Don’t even start on the fact of how gross your face feels. Your face, for some strange reason, has always been oily and greasy as fuck and it gets on your nerves to the point that you take makeup wipes with you everywhere just to make sure your face isn’t shining like the sun.

You push over the covers of your bed and waddle your way to the bathroom. You turn on the hot water to full blast and hop on in. The scolding water feels somewhat refreshing and great on your skin. It feels good and it wakes you up a bit to start the day.

You jump on out of the shower and pick out some shorts and a giant t-shirt to wear. You felt kinda bad for being mean to Ben yesterday and then falling asleep on him. Maybe you’ll make breakfast for him if he isn’t already up.

You walk through the bathroom and to Ben’s door and creak it open a little to peak. He’s still asleep in his bed and barely covered by the sheets. He’s naked alright but hopefully he has some boxers or briefs on. You quietly close the door. When your done with the bathroom, you make your way down the stairs to the kitchen.

Just as your about to make ground level, you hear footsteps. Weird, the last time you checked, only you and Ben were living here. You turn your head around the corner to see a pretty blonde making herself some cereal in the kitchen. Why the fuck is she here? Does Ben have a secret sister you don’t know about? You slowly but surely go back up to your room to figure out a plan on what the hell to do.

You instead, go into Ben’s room and start to poke at his biceps slightly. He’s literally flexing in his sleep, Ben is a power machine while you on the other hand aren’t even able to do anything that requires upper body strength.

“Ben…” You whispered, feeling like a helpless kid who has to wake up their parents to tell them they threw up in the middle of the night. You stab at him a little harder this time and a little louder.

“Ben, c’mon wake up.” All he did was move around a bit and grumble something. You stabbed at him a little more.

“Ben,” you were giving up at this point until he said something.

“Come back to bed love. How about a second round before you go?” He grabbed you with both arms and put you on the other side of him on the bed. You could tell that he was only half awake. What did he even mean by second round?

Before you knew it, Ben was hovering over you, in nothing but his boxers and you could perfectly see the indent in them. You didn’t know what to do, you were too flushed and red to think properly. Ben was getting closer to your face by the second. His knee was in between your legs now, inching closer and closer to your core. Until eventually it was rubbing against it. Even though you’ve been liking this so far, it had to stop because of the problem downstairs. But before you could say anything, all you heard from Ben’s door, was a slam.

His eyes fully opened and realized that he wasn’t on top of his little fling from last night, but his best friend. He hadn’t fully comprehended who it was and had mistaken Y/n for the blondie, who he had completely forgotten the name of.

“Shit!” Ben quickly stumbled back to the edge of the bed until he fell on the floor. You were left laying there on his bed staring at the ceiling. You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding in. You felt cold without Ben’s body flushed up against you in every physically possible way. Almost every way.

Ben sat up and looked at you. He noticed your chest was heaving up and down rapidly. Not that he was staring up there anyways. He was breathing fast.

“I’m sorry, I thought- I didn’t mean-” Ben didn’t even know where to start. He felt like he violated you.

“It’s okay Ben. Just wasn’t expecting that.” You looked over at him. His eyes were intense, usually they were soft and gentle, but these were different. They had this sort of darkness to them. You shook your head and tried to focus on the real task here.

“Who’s the model in our kitchen?”

“Model?”

“The pretty blonde downstairs? Do you know why she’s here?” You still hadn’t gotten the full image.

“Oh. Well, she’s not here anymore,” Ben sighed as he got up and sat on the bed. “She just slammed the door when she saw me on top of you, I guess.”

“Why was she here though?” You still weren’t getting it.

“She was my little fling last night, if you want to call it that,” Ben sighed, “I had mistaken you for her and that’s why I got on top of you love. If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have done that.”

Your face was bright red. He didn’t play with you like that because he wanted to, it was because he thought you were somebody else, he doesn’t like you like that. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You thought that he did that purposefully for you, not for her. You felt embarrassed and oh so much more.

“Oh.” Everything was clicking into place now. You brought your legs up to your chest and sat up against the head board. Ben can’t even look at you.

You decide to climb out of Ben’s bed and wobble your way back to the hallway. Your legs had fallen asleep, which for some reason your brain hadn’t comprehended, and you fell face flat on the floor next to Ben’s bed. He rushed over to you to try and help you up, but you just laid there. You didn’t want to move. All you wanted to do, was turn into a puddle and disappear. You felt like a distressed child.

Ben didn’t even know what to do, he just stood there looking down at you with his head tilted to the right. He bend down beside you and began tickling you uncontrollably. You turned into a laughing fit and felt like you couldn’t breathe. You even flipped over which was a poor choice since he just assaulted your stomach even more. Tears were springing from your eyes as you tried to fight him off.

Benny Boy lifted you off of the ground and threw you over his shoulder and carried you down stairs. You were still recovering from that tickle war with Ben and helpless on his shoulder. He sat you down on the couch and brought out the two blankets from your grandma’s house. He sat down next to you while you snuggled into the warm blanket.

“So Ben, why’d you bring me down here?”

“I just thought we could talk or hang out for a bit, love.” He said as his bright sage eyes bore into yours.

��Like?” You were curious on what he wanted to talk about. He seemed confident, until it was his turn to talk.

“Like, who that girl was. To be fairly honest, I forgot her name.” he chuckled. He felt bad but it’s not like he’d ever see her again.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away, princess,”

“Where’d you go last night? And how did she end up here?” You were curious because you didn’t know what happened after you fell asleep.

“Well, after you fell asleep, I tucked you into bed and I got bored so I went out to a club for a bit,” He started rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I also wanted to have a night where I didn’t have to watch over you.”

“Oh. Well you could’ve just told me, I know I’m younger than you, but I’m not a child.”

“I know. But I met the blonde at the bar and we really kicked things off and the next thing I know, we’re back here doing, you know.”

“Ew Ben, please don’t describe anything to me. I may be eighteen but I’m still a child! Also I’m never going on your bed again.” Now that you think about, you probably were laying exactly were they were- ew, that thought made you want to vomit. You’ve been a virgin all your life, so anything that was sex related was gross to you. You acted like a twelve year old learning about sex in middle school for the first time.

“Sure sweetheart but knowing you, you’ll probably just end up back on it in a few hours, snuggled in my blankets and clothes.” Ben had a little grin on his face because he knew he was right. You were about to smack it right off his face when Ben threw a pillow at you, hitting you right in the face. You basically pounced on him and got yourself tangled in the blankets with him. It was the start of a pillow fight.

In just five minutes, Ben was laying on the floor with you straddling him, trying to put your hair in a ponytail as he tickled your stomach. Ben was still just in his boxer and your shorts weren’t very covering so of course you felt his bulge through the fabrics. You didn’t say anything though because you didn’t want this to end.

Before you knew it, Ben flipped you over so now you were the one on the floor. He was hovering quite close to you.

“Back where we started huh?” His eyes were hooded and dark. It frightened you a bit but it was kinda of exciting to see this side of the Benny Boy you knew.

“I guess so.”

The last thing you said before Ben closed the gap between the two of you. His lips were soft and smooth as they pressed against yours. You thought it would be a soft, sweet and slow kiss but Benny Boy over here was going at it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to flip him back over which he did. You let go of the heavy kiss as you started to straddle him again, purposely pushing against his bulge. Ben let out quiet groan from the friction.

“Oh Benny Boy? You okay down there?” You usually liked being the dominant one in almost every situation, and maybe even in bed.

“You’ve got to speak to me baby.”

“I-I’m fine,” His head was thrown back as you kept grinding up against the ever growing bulge in his boxers.

You leaned back down and started to pepper kisses along his jaw and neck. That was until you noticed the giant ass hickey on his neck. Why hadn’t you noticed that before? Now you weren’t really in the mood anymore. That hickey had sort of set something off in the back of your head.

You stopped grinding against Ben and climbed off of him. You quickly grabbed your blanket and dashed to your room upstairs where you locked the door and sat against it. Leaving a confused Ben downstairs.

He didn’t know what happened, did he rushed things too quickly? Had he done something wrong? All he saw was the sad look on your face before you got up and ran off. What he didn’t know was the reason why you left…

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

Taglist:

@rogmeddows @queenlover05

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x female reader #fanfic #ben jones #cltcl #series #borhap #borhap cast

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locke-writes · 5 years

Text

On The Road

Author: locke-writes

Title: On The Road

Prompt: Road Trip x Tony Stark. For: @thefanficfaerie Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Challenge

Rating: T

Word Count: 2214

AN: Life got in the way and I’m immensely late but I finished it anyway.

Quickly grabbing a fry off of Tony's plate you took a bite before he could even make a comment. He frowned while you grinned in response, reaching to grab the salt from the end of the table. The neon lights reflected off the windows in the diner providing calm and comfort.

When Tony locked himself away in his lab you worried about him. There was no telling what caused him to disappear, hiding away, tinkering on a new project or perhaps an already existing one. The only thing that kept you calm in those situations was the fact that this particular vice wasn't all that detrimental to his health compared to others. But there was no telling if Tony was sleeping or eating without consulting Jarvis or running into him in the kitchen.

If working himself to death in the lab was Tony's way of calming down, you recognized that it still wasn't a healthy way to cope. It was up to you to provide another way.

There was always talk of traveling between you and Tony yet nothing had ever come of it. With running a business alongside saving the world there just wasn't any time. Truth be told you were afraid that there would never be any time, the list of cities, state, and countries you wished to visit sitting there on the page you had written them on, mocking you.

Tony's retreat into the lab once more, the sound of him bickering with a wrench you had heard clattering indicating the overwhelming need for him to get away. And so you arranged it in secret.

Typically secrets weren't a part of your relationship with Tony. Honesty was the best policy after all. But when the idea for a road trip came about you knew that Tony would object, he'd say he was fine, he'd try and have a mission arranged just to prove it to you. Whether he was fine or not Tony was never one to admit he needed help. Over time he'd gotten better about it yet he still wanted to be the person others relied on rather than the person to rely on others.

Nick wasn't about to agree to not calling Tony for one full week but after a few threats and promising him a few favors he had agreed. Which meant that you had one full week without interruptions, one full week that Tony could relax without worrying. One full week in which you hoped Tony would be made to take a break from his worrying, at least if his mind would let him.

There was never any true discussion about where you and Tony were about to go. A plane would have been able to take you anywhere around the world in a matter of a few hours, but you didn't want that. You wanted to keep Tony occupied, to make sure his mind was focused on something else rather than on any unfinished project. It was since decided that a road trip would be the best form of escape.

California.

It's nickname was the Golden State but for many years of your life you called it home. After leaving to attend college in New York many years ago, you hadn't been back since. Or at least in awhile as you came home for the holidays when you were able.

There were many things that you missed from home, many Cali-centric places, but the main was the beach. Yes you did live on the East Coast and you could find the time to head to the beach should you choose to but it wasn't the same. You missed the sand practically burning your feet when you went on 100 degree days and the lack of tourists when you went on days where it was 60 degrees. Lower temperatures always meant that tourists would never be there but native Californians would since it would still be warm.

Tony had taken only a few minutes of convincing. He had questions, he always did but you had answers. You didn't know where you were stopping, you'd figure that out on the way calling hotels as you came close but you knew the route, knew what states and cities you were stopping in. Once he was fully satisfied by the fact that he was going to be left alone and that you hadn't talked about the trip to anyone other than Happy and Nick, he began packing.

Two days later and you were ready to hit the road.

Washington D.C

The first stop. There wasn't anything much to see that you hadn't seen before. It was nice wandering around though, pretending that you and Tony were tourists. With all the conversations that Tony had to attend at the capitol, with all the Senate interrogations the two of you had to attend, you'd been in D.C more often than any other city on the road trip map.

It didn't seem to make it any less special though. In fact the knowledge that you'd only be there for the rest of the day before taking towards the road in the morning. Walking around the monuments was refreshing, getting a chance to be somebody no one cared about was refreshing. Whether or not Tony admitted it you knew he was glad that there was no one around bombarding him for autographs. You didn't know if they didn't think Tony was the real deal or if they didn't want to bother the two of you but either way you were grateful.

Nashville

You'd left DC at eight in the morning wanting to at least have some time to sleep in but leave with enough time that you wouldn't arrive to late in Tennessee. With no time to explore the city on the first day you and Tony grabbed food and hung out in the hotel room going to bed relatively early. The schedule you had created allowed for a full day in Nashville which you planned on taking full advantage of.

Whether or not it was cliche to do you allowed Tony to drag you to the major tourist sites. Admittedly going from the Grand Ole Opry to the reproduction of the Parthenon was a little odd but it fit. In some ways it allowed you to learn more about the man than you had known before. He was like a private tour guide. Aware that he was a music fanatic you'd only ever heard him listen to everything but country yet suddenly he was spouting out facts of the top of his head. Maybe he had looked them up when you were off somewhere but with Tony's brain you truly believed that he knew everything off the top of his head.

Nashville was the first place on the road trip map that you truly noticed a change in Tony. It was the first time he was becoming calm, allowing himself to relax.

Mississippi

To keep on track with the trip schedule and get Tony back to New York before Fury broke the promise and started calling you weren't able to spend too much time in Mississippi. For the most part it was used as a rest stop. A place where you could grab food that wasn't from regional drive thru's and was actually edible. A place where you could get some hours of sleep. Not excellent sleep but a few hours on a decent hotel mattress.

For the most part you'd been doing most of the driving. Going to Mississippi was the first time Tony had offered to take the wheel, it was also the first time he began to critique the road trip you playlist that had been created. Or well, you hadn't actually created it only pulled together a few songs from other existing playlists you'd found online.

New Orleans

Having not made plans when you arrived in New Orleans you were ready to treat the city the same as the one before, as a resting place. Of course you should have known that when Tony set his feet down in New Orleans he'd have too many ideas of what to do. Tony had friends in a wide variety of places and Louisiana was no exception.

Despite having a need to wake up early in the morning you didn't care. You didn't care about anything after you saw Tony smiling and laughing in the bar. You'd gone along for a few drinks with the friends that he knew from college. In your head it was like you had been there for it all as well, like you had existed for all the stories that had been brought up.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Flip it one way and you had the word weary Avenger, the man that everyone thought they knew, the man that everyone knew only by news reports and magazine interviews. Flip the switch that one way and you had a man that truly believed despite every word set against it, that he had to be the only one to hold the word on his shoulders. Tony Stark was a modern day Atlas. He was punishing himself for every single wrongdoing that was out of his grasp.

And yet flip the switch the other way and here was this Tony Stark. The Tony Stark that was laughing and was acting as if his life never consisted of the stress of being a superhero. Here was a carefree Tony Stark and perhaps this was the one true carefree Tony Stark that you had known

Austin

Stepping foot into Austin was as though you were physically stepping onto the halfway mark of the map. You knew in only a few days your feet would be touching sand, you'd be in California. You'd have one moment to officially be carefree. And Tony would have days to just be. To just exist. No worries, no thoughts of a life to get back to. There was just going to be the beach and water ever else you would end up deciding to do.

For the most part in Austin the two of you decided just to take in local shops. It was a thing not widely known about Tony Stark but he was a supporter of local businesses. Many thought that he'd recommend franchising, selling out and expanding, but that was far from the truth. Although Tony owned and partially ran Stark Industries he knew the history of the company. Every business starts off small and every business can grow to be a corporate giant if they so choose. To give those places the option of expansion though, they still have to make money as the small businesses they'll start out to be.

Scottsdale

Being in Arizona was difficult. Not because you in Scottsdale which was mainly known for its golf courses and you absolutely hated golf, but because there were only hours keeping you from California, for a beach you hadn't been to in years. Only a few hours keeping you from sharing a meaningful experience with your closest, dearest friend.

One of the few other things Scottsdale was known for was it's abundance of spas which you and Tony took full advantage of. Driving for hours upon hours a day leaves for barely any time you walk around and stretch. It leads to feeling sore and it leads to the great want of a massage. With the two of you always working there wasn't much time you spent being indulgence. Taking care of others was what Tony felt most necessary, rather than taking care of himself.

In the time that you had been on the road you'd seen the weight lifted off his shoulders. And now as the two of you were on separate massage table in the same room, you knew it'd be fully eradicated from him. Every amount of stress would be fully washed away.

Huntington Beach.

California

Home.

It took six hours to get to the beach. Six hours and some minutes due to traffic but you were smiling through it all. Tony thought you were crazy to enjoy traffic but having been away from Southern California for so long it felt like him being stuck in traffic on every freeway you needed to drive down.

Six hours.

That's how long it had taken to get from one state to the next. That's how long it had taken to get you here, a beach parking lot. You stood staring out at the sand and the water out there before you. Tony questioned why the two of you hadn't gone straight to the hotel to rest. He wasn't angry or upset, just curious but even while asking about the hotel he was grabbing the bag you had packed specifically for your arrival at the beach.

There was no time to waste, you'd change into a bathing suit later but now you just wanted to sink your feet into the warm sand. You grinned while Tony shut the trunk of the car.

"Step 1. Grab shitty nachos from the snack bar. Step 2. Lay out towels and claim a spot. Step 3. Admit I was right." You turned back to look at Tony.

He smiled back, "I admit it. We needed this. I. I needed this"

#locke writes #tony stark #marvel #tony stark imagine #marvel imagine #tony stark fic #marvel fic #tony stark fanfic #marvel fanfic #tony stark oneshot #marvel oneshot

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