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shmaptainwrites · 3 years

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𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 [𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒]

PAIRINGS — Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff

SUMMARY — Confronting your feelings for one of your best friends is already hard, but it becomes that much harder when you have to pretend to be married to him.

WARNINGS — swearing, general angst and sadness

NOTE — Okay so this is my first official Bucky fic on tumblr! It was sitting in my drafts partially finished for the longest time and the strike of inspiration came to finish it last night at 1 am so I hope you all enjoy (it's definitely a favourite but I say that about everything)

“Oh my God,” you groaned, pushing yourself up on your bed and rubbing your eyes hard. “Fuck, what the hell happened last night,”

“Huh?”

Your eyes widened and you turned to the voice, seeing Bucky sitting up on the floor of your room.

You screamed in surprise and Bucky did the same but both of you held your heads at the loud sound, the hangovers taking over.

“Shhhh!” Someone hushed loudly and you and Bucky both frowned, looking over to see Steve sleeping at the foot of the bed.

“Why are you all in my room?!” you exclaimed quietly and the two men sat up, trying to piece together the events of the last night.

“Pretty sure we were celebrating,” Bucky mumbled. “Now if only I could remember what,”

“I remember champagne,” you said. “And rings, did someone get engaged?” you asked, quickly looking at your hands for any sign of a diamond. “And how the hell are you guys hungover?”

“Thor brought mead,” Steve groaned and laid back down on the ground. “And I think I’m getting married,” he added casually, lifting up his hand, showing a wedding band.

“Punk, if you’re getting married why the hell aren’t you with Nat?” Bucky asked.

“Why do you think I would know? I don’t even remember coming in here. For all we know she could be in the closet.” he said pointing to the reach-in, and just as he did so there was a small shuffle from inside and the door opened to reveal that Natasha was in fact inside there.

“Huh? Guess I do remember something,” he said with a nod and Natasha groaned, pulling herself out of the small dark room and close to her fiancé.

“I swore to myself I’d never be in the closet again, what the actual hell,” Natasha said annoyed.

“Preach,” Steve nodded while trying to hold back a gag.

“Steve I don’t think we should do an open bar at the wedding,”

“Good idea,” he squeezed the bridge of his nose while you looked over to see Bucky.

“Did we do something together?” you asked. “I feel like we might’ve done something together,”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “I-I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?” he said all of a sudden, anxiously.

“I don’t know?!” you exclaimed and all four of you covered your ears after your voice raised louder than intended.

“I need coffee,” Natasha said listlessly.

“Me too,” Steve nodded. “I’ll make a pot,”

“Okay I dibs one of the showers though,” you sighed, pushing the sheets off the bed and standing up. It seemed as though you were all too tired to have changed from your clothes the other night. You were still sporting a black spaghetti strap jumpsuit with white and green vertical stripes, your jacket tossed aside on a chair and your high-heeled shoes still clasped to your feet.

If your clothes were any statement to how you looked and felt you didn’t want to see your face, probably smudged with eyeshadow and eyeliner, possibly leaving lipstick stains on your pillow. Those were going to be a nightmare to get out.

The hot water of the shower was like an eternal relief from the nausea of alcohol over-consumption and you wished you could have stayed in there the entire day.

The truth of the matter, you weren’t sure what you were going to do when you saw Bucky. He said he remembered kissing you. What was that supposed to mean?

Well, you knew what it meant, well probably. It was most likely a drunk confession and he acted on it but didn’t seem to remember the whole confession part. Suddenly the nausea wasn’t the only reason you were cursing yourself for drinking so much.

Life could have been so much easier if all that had stayed bottled up inside in the locked compartment of your heart that only you had the key to. Looks like tequila jimmied it or had a spare key.

Stepping out of the shower you wondered if maybe you could play it off like it never happened. That way it gave you a chance to start fresh, but then again there would always be the lingering thought in the back of your mind.

You swore under your breath for what felt like the hundredth time. You really thought your first kiss with him might be one to remember.

After you got dressed you headed to the kitchen where the rest of the hungover crew awaited and enacted their personal cures for the ailment.

You just went straight for the ibuprofen knowing if the headache stopped the rest would be easy. And if you felt gross again you could just down a chug of Pepto.

“Stevie, you think you can put me on assignment?” you asked after popping a few pills. “Something for a while, I miss being out in the field,” you lied hoping this would be your escape from confrontation.

“Actually, I was asked to put you undercover, with Bucky,”

“With this loser?” you asked pointing to Bucky, who was used to the teasing from a close friend.

“I thought you guys liked going on assignment together?” Natasha said while sipping her coffee and using Steve to hold herself up straight.

“I mean I do,” you said, it wasn’t a lie, most of the time you both had fun while working which sometimes was hard, to say the least.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve smiled and looked over to Natasha pressing a kiss to her head before moving away and causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground.

“Fuck you, Steve,” she groaned.

“Love you too honey,” he chuckled and headed off to his room while Natasha struggled to pull herself up.

“So why don’t you want to go on an assignment with me?” Bucky asked curiously, leaning into the table.

You sighed loudly, “It’s not that I don’t want to go with you,” you lied. “I was just hoping for a solo gig, get some reflection time, maybe take a few days off afterwards and visit my brother or something,”

“It’s okay (N/N),” Bucky stood up and came wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek, you hoped he couldn’t see how flustered it made you. “You’ll barely even notice I’m there.”

—

“Yeah so you’ll need to do the married couple cover,” Steve said sucking the air through his teeth and your face dropped.

“Rogers, that is so cliche! You’re really not going to make us do this,”

“Woah okay what’s so bad about pretending to be married to me. I’d be an amazing husband,” Bucky countered and you groaned, stomping your foot.

“I just want a plane Jane assignment, for once in my life! Where I can be myself and not pretend to be…” you looked down at the paper. “Mrs. Caruso? Italian? Really?”

“You’re married, Bucky looks Italian enough, you’ll survive,” Steve shrugged.

“You know what, fine,” you sighed. “You think they’ll have the house bugged?”

“Quite possibly,” Steve nodded. “With microphones if not nano-cams.”

“Wonderful,” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek now seemingly agreeing with you. “Who are we even dealing with again?”

“Some people connected to the Ultron matter, seems they want to rid the human race of humans so that’s fun,” Steve said sarcastically.

“So you want us to join a cult?”

Steve was about to shake his head but he nodded and you and Bucky both sighed.

“Come on, this will honestly be easy, once you’re in you’ll be out. And you won’t even have to deal with them for the first two weeks while you’re establishing yourselves.”

“Okay but what do we do about the cameras?” you asked. “If there are any which I’m sure there will be.”

“Just act as much like a couple as you can and try and identify if they have mics or not as well.”

You and Bucky both nodded and at this point, you could only be grateful that your drunken night was at the back of your mind.

“Alright then, hand over the company credit card if we’re going undercover I’m gonna give Mrs. Caruso some style. Buck you in?”

“Sure why not,” he nodded and Steve handed you the credit card and you went on your way to prepare for the mission.

—

“So what’s Mrs. Caruso going to be like?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know, I was thinking maybe a bit outgoing, small talk and smiling at the neighbours, she’s gonna have great style too,”

“Maybe her dad’s a mafia boss and that’s why she can afford clothes at-what even is this place called again?”

“Chanel, and how stereotypical of you, and who knows maybe Mr. Caruso is the mafia boss,”

Bucky chuckled and looked through the clothes,

“Does Mrs. Caruso seem like the kind of person who’d wear this?”

“Oh yes!” you nodded and Bucky smiled.

“Is she only going to wear haute couture?”

“Nope, just a bit and the rest will be regular expensive clothes,”

“You know this isn’t hurting Steve’s pocket, it’s just barely making a dent in Tony’s,”

“Yeah, but I get to keep these after so,” you shrugged and Bucky nodded. “Feel free to treat yourself.”

“You know what maybe I might,” he chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist. “After all if Mr. Caruso is paying, he should get something, don't you think?”

“Bucky we’re not even in Maine yet,” you poked him.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with my friend,”

“Just make sure you have some of whatever this is when we meet the neighbours, the suburbs are a nightmare,”

—

“Oh, Frank and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood!”

“Awe that’s so sweet of you,” you smiled. “Isn’t it James?”

“Yes of course, I told you it was going to be nice here,” Bucky came and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Have you introduced yourself yet?”

“Silly me, must have slipped my mind. We’re Andrea and James Caruso,”

“No worries dear, and it’s nice to meet your James, I’m Betty and this is my husband Frank, we’re your neighbours to the right. Our right that is,”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Bucky said and gave them a bright smile.

“We’d love to have you over for dinner once you’re settled,” Frank spoke up.

“Oh that would be amazing right James?” you said as enthusiastically as you could.

“A break from her cooking for a day? I’m in,” he joked and you frowned playfully and gave him a light slap on the arm.

“Well, we’ll leave you be, but we’ll have to connect soon,”

“Of course, bye Betty,” you waved and as they left the sidewalk you closed the door and sent Bucky a look saying I really fucking wish we could assume there are no cameras here.

“Man I’m exhausted,” you let out a breath of air and Bucky wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. You sunk into the familiarity of it and let yourself relax for a moment.

“You should go out something more comfortable on, the day’s almost over, I can order some pizza and we can watch a movie,”

“You sure we don’t need to do anything else?”

“Positive,” he nodded and kissed your cheek, sending you off to the master bedroom.

You threw on some comfortable, albeit expensive, sweatpants and a tank top, making your way back out to the living space where Bucky was on the phone with a pizza place.

You undid your hair and shook it out, massaging your temples as he hung up the phone.

“Where’d you order from?” you asked.

“Papa John’s,”

“Oh, that’s my favourite! You remembered,” you grinned and he nodded with a laugh.

“It’s not like your order it once every two weeks or anything,”

“Oh yeah, definitely not,” you said sarcastically, plopping yourself on the couch and grabbing the remote. “Anything you want to watch in particular?”

“Uh I still haven’t seen that movie about the guys who catch the ghosts, what about that?”

“Ghostbusters? You still haven’t seen that? Seriously?” you said in disbelief and motioned for him to come to sit next to you.

He obeyed and you flicked through the movie rentals and clicked on the first ghostbusters, easily settling into domestic life. Hopefully, once you had to deal with the cult it wouldn’t be so bad.

—

“Do I look like a manager?” you asked, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I don’t feel like a manager,” you sighed.

“You look great,” Bucky assured you.

“I know I look great, I’m just nervous,” you shook your head. “Why the hell am I nervous?”

“Come on, new job, new city, new people, that’s nerve-wracking.” Bucky said, coming and taking your hand in his, pressing a friendly kiss on your ‘wedding ring’ causing the feeling in the pit of your stomach to resurface. “You’ll be amazing, and luckily we both get to work together,” he poked your nose.

“Yes, the best husband-wife management team this side of the whatever major landmark is near Maine,” you chuckled. “Okay let’s go before we’re late for our first day. That would be disappointing.”

You grabbed your purse and cell phone, stepping out of the house and breathing in the fresh air. Even though masks were up they were still down to a certain extent, no cameras, that was a relaxing thought.

Bucky started the car while you looked over the plan for the day.

“Do you know exactly what the company does?” Bucky asked.

“You didn’t read up on it?”

“No?”

“Bucky,” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, it’s a standard new tech company and the department we’re in charge of is sales which is where they think this cult thing started.”

“Anything specific I should know?”

“Pretty sure this company made your arm,” you nodded looking down at his prosthetic. It was new technology that looked like a real hand but functioned like his metal arm. The model might have been directly from the company, but also possibly from the new SHIELD where one of their scientists had taken the company’s model as a base and upgraded it.

“Oh, so you think they’ll be able to tell their own product?”

“Let’s hope not,” you shook your head. “Really, hoping not.”

—

“Oh my God, that was a nightmare,”

“I hate corporate jobs,” Bucky added as you tossed your bags on the couch and pulled out some plates to eat the takeout you had bought.

You didn’t respond but Bucky looked carefully around the house and stared curiously at a few objects before something clicked for him.

You were busy digging into the food, standing up near the island countertop in your black heels and formal work attire.

Bucky walked up to you and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist from the front and pulled you into him.

“James what the hell are you doing?” you frowned trying to reach over for your food.

“Just trust me, Andrea,” he said, using your undercover name just in case.

You placed your fork down on the table and let Bucky wrap his other arms around you while yours went to his neck out of what was natural.

He started placing kisses along your neck and your eyes went wide, squeezing him as if to ask what the actual fuck are you doing, but soon you realized his plan as he gently tapped your lower back in a series of dots and long notes. Morse code.

I… see… the… camera

His lips had trailed up to the side of your head, leaving small kisses along your ear and temple. Your head felt woozy and you tried desperately to concentrate but it was so hard when all you wanted was him. Right there, right now.

It’s… in… the… smoke… detector...one… of… them… is… fake

You nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and mumbled,

“Not today,”

And he nodded, seeing as you were covering your tracks.

Instead, you took his hand in yours and tapped a message about the sleeping arrangements, seeing as you now knew they were watching you it might have been a good idea to just share the master bedroom.

Your hand stayed interlocked with his as you offered him a fork so he could dig into the rice and chicken.

You ate dinner mostly in silence, planning here and there for the days to come with regards to work and how you would handle your employees.

The rumour was that their previous boss had died because she had participated in some sort of human sacrifice for the new ‘cause’. It was obvious that she was well-liked among them. No matter what and that you and Bucky, or more like Andrea and James Caruso did, you would have a hard time winning their affections.

“Maybe we can insinuate that we agree with their… corporate politics,” you settled on while taking the pins out of your hair and removing your makeup.

“How would we go about doing that?”

“Bring it up in casual conversation, show them we can be trusted, we’re a part of the company.”

“Okay, would my experience be a good starting point?” he asked, thinking back to his prosthetic.

“Actually, it might be,” you nodded, observing him as he continued to brush his teeth. “You could talk about that and maybe how the company has helped you and how you wish to progress further into that area of development.”

You were referring to what people nowadays were calling cyber-biology. It was when people would make technical modifications to their bodies. Replacing arms with advanced prosthetics like Bucky’s, eyes with built-in scanners, vibranium bones, you name it.

“We can talk about it more on the way to work tomorrow,” he suggested and you nodded, clearing up your things and heading to the bed.

This wasn’t the first time you had shared a bed with Bucky, but it was the first time you were staying with him since you had discovered your more than friendly feelings towards him. Although nothing would compare to the time you were unlucky enough to sleep in a tent with him, Sam, Nat, and Steve, you never went camping again after that.

You climbed into the left side while Bucky took the right, facing the middle while you chose to face outwards to spare yourself any unwelcome emotions.

Out of all the assignments Steve could have given you it had to be an undercover married couple. Things were hard enough as it is, not to mention the fact that you had most likely drunkenly kissed him at Steve and Nat’s engagement party and that he had decided to unknowingly test your strength and willpower as he delivered a message to you today.

But that was the fact of things, ever since coming back, Bucky didn’t have time to date. Steve used to tell you stories of how every few weeks he’d be taking a new girl out, not barring the fact that he was a proper gentleman throughout it all, but James Buchanan Barnes was a lady's man.

That still probably hadn’t changed, there were a fair number of women who had rivalled his affections but found themselves nowhere because that wasn’t what he was looking for. You weren’t about to be one of them.

—

“You guys don’t really act like a married couple,” a few of your employees said curiously as you relaxed in the break room.

“Now what is that supposed to mean,” you chuckled, bringing Bucky closer and wrapping your arms around him. “Are you guys expecting us to make out in our office instead of doing work?”

“Kinda,” one of them shrugged.

“Really? Has that happened before?” Bucky asked, surprised.

The employees nodded and you and Bucky looked at each other with a shrug.

“I guess we’re just a bit past the lovey-dovey phase,” he explained. “Not that I don’t love her,” he assured, looking back at you with a smile. “We just don’t need the rest of the world to know for us to know,”

“Aww that’s so sweet,” Aisha cooed, “I think you guys are great,”

“That’s kind of you but you don’t have to lie,” you insisted. “I mean come on, we’re the bosses, we’re married, kinda upturned your whole place here,”

“No seriously you guys are great,” Brett added. “You’re making good changes, most of the time once people make management they just suck and keep things the same.”

“And I mean you guys have experience with the product too not many people have that,” Allison said.

“Wow, you guys,” you smiled. “I’m actually flattered,” you chuckled.

Bucky pecked your cheek and hugged you close.

“And we all know she’s the better one out of the two of us that’s why she’s my better half,”

“Oh don’t say that James,” you nudged him just as your phone rang.

You looked at the caller ID and pursed your lips looking back at him.

“Sorry I have to take this, you guys take an extra ten minutes okay, phones can wait,” you chuckled. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said to Bucky while tapping his arm lightly letting him know that Steve was the one who called.

Bucky nodded and before you could protest he pressed a soft kiss to your lips causing you to freeze. You tried to make sure it didn’t look like it had caught you off guard, and quietly coughed once his lips had parted from yours, holding your head down and walking out of the room at a spritely pace.

You found a quiet space outside the building and took your phone out of your pocket once more, dialling Steve’s number.

“(Y/N) thank sweet baby Jesus, you picked up,” he sighed with relief and you frowned.

“Is something wrong? Are we in danger?”

“No, but I might be, Natasha put me in charge of the wedding cake and I’m stuck between flavours,”

“Steven Grant fucking Rogers, you called for that?!” you exclaimed quietly. “This could completely ruin everything, don’t you remember the first rule of being undercover?”

“I know, I know, but this is serious (Y/N)! Everything needs to be perfect for Natasha, she deserves that,”

“Just like she deserved you getting so wasted on your engagement night you can’t remember how you proposed to her?” you fired back.

“Okay that was a miscalculation on my part,” he admitted. “Just quick, tell me: devil’s food cake or scrap it completely and do a donut stand?”

You sighed audibly and rolled your eyes waving a hand in a sense that it really didn’t matter but settled on, “Do the donuts, she’ll like that,”

“Okay thanks (N/N), and I’m sorry for calling you in the middle of a workday,”

“Yeah you owe me one,” you nodded. “Bye Steve,”

“Bye (N/N),”

You hung up the phone and took an extra minute outside just to breathe. You’d barely had a chance to register it. Bucky had kissed you.

And not just some half-hearted peck on the lips, he had actually kissed you. This job was getting more and more out of its initial description and right now you wished nothing more than to be at home where you could distance yourself, hide your pain and suffering instead of having it brought up every day through living your daydreams in real-time.

You just wanted to stop feeling, because feeling made things way harder than they needed to be.

—

“Hey um, can we talk about that?” you asked on the car ride back on, your hands in your lap and you tried not to meet his eyes.

“Talk about what?” he asked curiously and you shook your head and bit the inside of your cheek.

“You kissed me in front of everyone,” you noted.

“Oh that,” he nodded in understanding, “I’m sorry I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable it’s just I could tell some people still weren’t convinced and since we decided the Caruso’s weren’t much for PDA I thought that might be part of the problem so I figured it might be a good idea to show them otherwise?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” you nodded.

“If you want I can not do it again,” he assured you. “Whatever you think is best,”

You stayed silent for a moment, as much as it would be hard for you, he did have a point. This gain of trust could be a way in, they even acknowledged your superiority to their previous managers which was obviously a step, but now you had to find a way to convince them you were open to their little work cult without seeming too obvious about it. So you said,

“No, it’s okay. It’s a good idea,”

It really was nothing close to a good idea, but what could you say. The job came first.

—

As the weeks went on you and Bucky shared more public displays of affection as the Carusos and which each kiss and each lingering hold, it was becoming harder and harder and harder to keep your mouth shut. You wanted to burst out of whatever cage you were holding yourself in and say I want this for us, but I want it for real.

But you knew that was near impossible.

A good distraction was the fact that one of your employees had discreetly given you some ‘hypothetical’ information on the cult and when you and Bucky expressed interest, as you were supposed to, he pressed on, telling you the location of their next meeting.

From the case file, you had a general idea of what the cult was about, but things really came to light at the meeting.

It wasn’t necessarily ridding the race of humans entirely, but replacing them with better, more advanced and partially embedded with different types of cyber-wear so they could be controlled if need be.

In a situation where you had to pick death over being controlled by a government or institution especially like this one, you’d pick death without another thought.

“How do you propose doing this?” you asked curiously and the group looked at you skeptically. “I mean some people have a lot of control over themselves, there’s always going to be people who fight back, what are you doing to ensure that doesn’t happen?”

“These,” one of the participants opened a case and showed you what looked like an electronic eye. “It’s a new type of technology that can serve as a camera, scan surroundings and deliver commands.”

“If commands aren’t followed? Demands aren’t met?” Bucky asked.

“There’s a miniature explosive that will take care of that. One-click of a button and it attacks the nervous system, dead within seconds,”

You fought the urge to swallow thickly, looking over at Bucky, signalling that you needed to talk, somewhere you wouldn’t be heard.

After the meeting was over he drove to an abandoned pier, and you both took a seat on the bench, looking through some of the files and speaking in low hushed voices.

“So this is almost worse than we thought it was,” you noted and he agreed.

“Should we call Steve? I mean this is big news, he should probably know so if we need to be pulled out and look at it from a different angle we can,”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Bucky agreed again, pulling out his phone and dialling Steve’s number.

“Hey, Buck is everything alright?” Steve asked and Bucky sighed.

“We’re fine, it’s just things are looking a bit different than expected,” Bucky went on to explain the situation to Steve who seemed to be listening intently as there was not much feedback on the line.

“So what do you think?” you asked, readjusting the headphone in your ear.

“Well, do you guys think you can keep it up?” he asked. “Honestly from what you’re telling me this angle seems to be working great. But if it’s too much we can always pull you out and find a different way to go about things,”

“I’m good,” Bucky said. “I mean, (N/N)’s a good fake wife, there’s not much to complain about,” he chuckled lightly and you swallowed thickly.

“(Y/N)? Where are you at?”

”I can do it,” you nodded, taking a sharp inhale. “Yeah, I can do it,”

“Perfect, call me if things go south and we’ll arrange for an extraction,”

“Alright, good luck with the wedding planning,”

Steve groaned and you both chuckled, quickly chatting about that to catch up before hanging up and taking a breath.

When you got home you went straight for the closet so you could get changed into something more comfortable, you had a sweatshirt halfway over your head when your phone rang and you quickly finished up, seeing one of your employees calling you.

“Hello this is Andrea Caruso,” you said, putting on your best sweet and somewhat energetic voice.

“Andrea? Hi, this is Tammy,” you could hear a smiling voice on the other line.

“Hey Tammy, what can I do for you?” you asked.

Bucky walked into the closet right about then and pointed to the phone mouthing who is it and you mouthed back Tammy.

“Well, you know how the whole office is out on the 22nd?” she said and you confirmed. “It’s um-it’s actually for my wedding,” she explained. “And my finacé and I were wondering if you wanted to come, we had some extended family that didn’t RSVP and we’d really love to have you there,”

“Oh, a wedding! That’s so crazy congrats,” you smiled. “Um…” you looked over at Bucky who nodded his head eagerly, “We’d love to come. Yeah, the day was already free, we’d be more than happy to join in on the celebrations,”

“Wonderful! We’ll make some space for you at the work table.”

“Awesome, we’ll see you on Monday? Bright and early?”

“As usual boss,” she chuckled. “Bye,”

“Bye,”

You hung up the phone and looked at Bucky.

“Our one day off you want us to go to a wedding?” you asked.

“Just think about it we’ll have a chance to connect more, be more in touch with our employees and maybe we can loosen up a bit,” he said in a somewhat coded manner referring to the mission.

“Okay, well I’m sleeping early,” you yawned and rubbed your eyes, Bucky nodded and walked past you to come to the washroom, quickly pausing to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Sleep tight Andrea,”

“You too James,” you nodded curtly and walked away to the empty room.

—

If you didn’t calm down your breathing soon you were sure you were going to pass out.

Parked outside of an empty mall parking lot you gripped tightly onto the steering wheel of your car, tears pouring out of your eyes while choked sobs were escaping your throat. You needed someone to tell you that you could go on, it wasn’t the end of the world, whatever you were feeling now would go away. Hell Bucky probably didn’t even think my thing was wrong when you told him you were gonna go out for a late-night drive after the wedding, maybe get some fresh air.

But clearly, that wasn’t what was happening.

Shakily you pulled your phone out of your pocket and clicked Steve’s contact dialling the number and then laying the phone on your lap. You knew even though it was dead late he’d be up. Steve was always up.

The line clicked and there was a quiet yawn before,

“Hello? (Y/N)?” he paused and could hear your faint sobs on the other end of the line while you tried to compose yourself enough to talk. “(Y/N) what wrong?” he asked. “Do I need to send someone in?”

“I-I can’t do this,” you said, your voice a strained whisper. “I can’t Steve, it’s too hard,”

Steve paused again, “(N/N), what’s too hard?” he asked gently.

“This,” you gasped quietly for air, covering your mouth with your hands. “I-I-I-...,” you took a deep breath. “Being like this with Bucky is too hard,”

“Is he giving you a hard time-,”

“Steve I’m in love with him,” you blurted and that seemed to shut him up. “I’m in love with him and you put me on this assignment and told me to be his wife. And I did that,” you said. “But it’s too hard,”

You could almost see the super-soldier pursing his lips, thinking of what to say next while your mind drifted to earlier that night at the wedding.

“How long have we been married again?” Bucky asked.

“Ten years,” you whispered back. “Why?”

“Alright now can we have all the couples who have been married ten years or longer up on the dance floor,”

“Oh,” you nodded.

Bucky stood up and offered you his hand which you took while he led you to the center of the room with some other couples. He pulled you into him gently, one arm wrapped around your back and the other holding your hand on the arm that was slightly outstretched. His forehead rested against yours and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest.

The music started, it was slow and soft, allowing Bucky to sway with you in your place. He seemed to be lost in the music, maybe even lost in the moment, because you didn’t know what had come over him when his face tilted forward, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like he was appreciating his wife of ten years, like he was your husband, like he loved you.

It took everything you had in yourself to fight back the tears in your eyes, the ones that showed how much you wanted this, but he didn’t make it any easier when he whispered those three words, slightly muffled by your cheek. Oh, that only made it so much harder. Everything you could have ever wanted was right in front of you but it was all a gambit. A game in order to infiltrate a cult of all things.

There would never be a day where you didn’t wish it was real.

“Does he know?” Steve finally asked and you sniffed, wiping your nose and shaking your head.

“No,” you said simply.

“(Y/N) I-,” he sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I was there so I could at least sit with you, be a friend,” he’s scratched his head. “I feel really bad for making you guys do this if I had known-,”

“No, don’t do that Steve,” you shook your head. “You did what you had to do, it was a good choice. Now what I need from you is advice. Tell me what to do Rogers,”

“See (Y/N) now you know I can’t make that decision for you,” he said. “But if you want my two cents… I say talk it out. Bucky will listen and he’ll-if anything he’ll be more understanding,” Steve explained.

“You think I should tell him I love him? Even at the risk of our friendship?”

“(N/N), look at what this is doing to you. Bottling it up isn’t healthy, it’s only causing you pain,”

You chewed on his words, the line quiet on both ends.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,”

“Good, and even if after that it’s still too much call me and we’ll pull you out,”

“And pay for my counselling,” you muttered and he chuckled.

“Let's see what happens first. Baby steps (N/N),”

“Yeah, baby steps,”

You both hung up and you stayed in the parking lot a little while longer, staring at the empty pavement under the cool glow of a street lamp. It was quiet and peaceful so you took it in while you could before you were about to destroy your entire world because you knew it was going to crash and burn the minute you told him those three words and that you meant it.

Slowly driving back to the suburban home, white picket fence and all. The door was unlocked, you assumed either he was awake or didn’t want you to get accidentally locked out.

Either way, you entered your shared room, pulling out your earring and unclipping the rest of your jewelry while there was a quiet shuffle on the bed and the click of a light turning on.

You stiffened, you were hoping you’d at least have until tomorrow.

“(Y/N)? Where were you?” he asked, not even bothering to use your fake name. “I-I was worried sick, you just left for two hours,”

You fiddled with the bracelets on your wrist and Bucky looked at you curiously.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes squinting to see your puffy red eyes.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, trying to stop yourself from crying again. Bucky was quick to stand up and try to come to your side, but you stepped away, you couldn’t do this while he was holding you. You needed to look him in the eye and say it.

“(N/N) what’s going on?” his voice was calm, but carried so much worry.

“Buck I have to tell you something,” your voice caught in your throat while you took off your bracelets and rolled them between your fingers.

He reached out to you, to hold your hand, as comfort but you flinched and inched back.

“(Y/N) why won’t you let me touch you?”

Your heart stopped, he sounded so….so broken.

“I-,” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I wouldn’t be able to handle the feeling of you letting me go… so I need to say it like this,” you explained.

Bucky still looked unconvinced but he nodded and gave you the space to continue.

“I-I don't know if you noticed, but this assignment has been getting a bit hard for me,” you said in the lowest whisper you could, hoping there were no microphones around. “And it’s because it’s giving me something I want that I know isn’t real,”

You wrapped your arms around your waist, squeezing tight and maybe hoping you would just disappear leaving only the designer dress behind.

“T-The reason I wanted to go on the assignment alone was because I wanted time to gather my thoughts after you said that you remembered kissing me. Then we got out here and I was thrown into the same thing all over again,” you explained, still working around the subject you really needed to tell him. “Buck you keep acting in this fantasy life and you do it so well because half the time I’m so close to believing you before I snap out of it. But every time you kiss me I want to kiss back and when you said I love you from the bottom of my heart I want to say I love you too,”

Bucky was silent for a moment before taking a step forward, then another, then another, his hand coming to rest on either side of your face, warm flesh on one side and cool metal on the other.

“Then say it back,” he whispered. “Say it back (Y/N), because I love you,”

Tears pooled in your eyes and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

“I love you (Y/N),” he repeated. “I love you, I love you, I love you,”

Your hands unwrapped themselves from your waist and you clung desperately to Bucky’s shirt, saying in a broken whisper,

“I love you too,”

He brought your face up to his, while you stood on the top of your toes to help you reach, and he pressed his lips gently to yours.

This time it was different from those other kisses he would give you. Because this time you kissed back, and this time you knew he meant it.

His hand grabbed down from your face, resting on the top of your arms and gently tugging at the fabric of your off-the-shoulder dress, seeing if he might be able to slip it off.

“Buck-,” you murmured, your lips moving against his own.

“Just to get you into something comfortable. So you can lay down with me,”

You nodded your head, his lips pressed against yours once more while he unzipped the back of your dress, letting it pool at your feet.

“One minute,” he said, quickly turning to the closet and grabbing an oversized sweatshirt of his, pulling it over your head and adjusting it accordingly.

That night, instead of pushed off to the side, you slept in his arms, wrapped up in him, intoxicated by the close proximity. Your face was buried in his chest while his was the same in your hair, carefully breathing you in and never wanting to let go.

If only that’s how you could have stayed forever.

—

“Steve we need that evac right about now!” your phone was pressed to your ear as you yelled over the gunfire. “Our cover was blown,”

“Okay, Natasha, Sam and I are on our way,” he said quickly, hanging up so you could concentrate on the large task in front of you.

There were at least ten cybernetically advanced individuals you had to fight against and only you and Bucky. Maybe it was a fair fight, but you wouldn’t really know until later.

It was weird but after being undercover for so long you felt a little bad having to fight them, they were your coworkers, hell you even attended Tammy’s wedding. This was definitely not what you or they had signed up for.

Steve came with Sam and Natasha in record time, and from there the fight was most definitely in your favour, rounding up all the enhanced with ICERs, prepared to bring them to justice.

You all came out with minimal injuries, heading back to the quinjet and taking a seat to clean up and rest a bit.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, looking down at you from where he stood.

“Yeah, just a few cuts and scrapes, nothing that won’t heal,” you nodded.

“Good,” he smiled, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Bye Andrea,”

“Bye James,” you smiled softly, scratching the back of your neck and still looking at Bucky while he spoke with Sam, not noticing Steve taking a seat next to you.

“So it went well I’m assuming,” he said quietly and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah it did,” you turned your head to look at Steve curiously before saying, “You knew, didn’t you. You knew he felt the same,”

“I think knowing for sure is a stretch,” he offered. “More like I had a feeling,”

“Well we all know when Steve Rogers has a feeling it’s normally right isn’t it,”

Steve shrugged and nodded with a chuckle.

You looked at Bucky again and his eyes were flicked towards you while Sam was explaining some thing or another and his lips quirked up when your eyes met his and he mouthed,

I love you

And one thing was for sure you would never get tired of saying

I love you too

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

Photo

CALL ME CAT, chapter sixteen

Summer 2018

The only thing worse than being hungover was having to face all of them the next morning. I didn’t remember much between quitting and climbing onto the bus, Jules draped a blanket over me and suddenly the sun was rising.

Now I sat in a hotel room somewhere, squinting at the beams of light through the window and reaching out for a cup of coffee that Leah handed over.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet.

She was silent for a moment, watched me take a sip before she spoke. “Do you really want out?”

I thought about it for a second. Somehow, the entire time the band gained traction and our careers got bigger and better, my life seemed to spiral out of control and I became more of a mess than I thought humanly possible. So I nodded.

The door pushed open, Ian was in the same clothes from the night before, bags under his eyes let me know that I’d created a hellish task for him. Ask about paperwork, call the right people, figure out what the hell was going on.

“Hi,” he said, hands in his pockets, a quick sigh before he made eye contact. “How do you feel?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, unsure if he was asking to be nice or to rub it in my face that I had been a drunk mess for the umpteenth time.

“Like shit, Ian.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Well, I need to know if you’re actually leaving or if that was just you being drunk and upset. Either way we need to have a whole meeting this morning about what went on and what we do moving forward. Last night was not okay.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unprepared for his directness. “I meant it,” I told him.

A pause, almost like he didn’t really think it would happen. “Uh, okay,” he looked around the room and pulled out his phone. “I have to call people then. Can I ask you a question, first?”

Hands around the coffee cup, I said: “Shoot.”

“Is this about Harry?”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s about me.”

It was partially about Harry. I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t stand the constant tug of war or the impossible task of trying to understand him. I figured it was best to not try at all.

The door pushed open again, Niall was on the other side, his lips parted when he saw me. “Already signing shit?”

“Niall,” Ian sighed, hoping to not let things get as rowdy as they did the night before. His voice was tired and the way he said Niall’s name told me that a confrontation was the last thing he needed right now.

“Already dissolving everything we worked for?”

“What’s happening?” Miles popped up behind him, then Harry and Jules.

More nervous squirming on my end. Ian hadn’t mentioned the meeting would be now.

“Nothing is happening, we’re talking,” Ian said when he turned to face them. “And since you’re all here, I guess you can come in.”

They filed in, quiet and angry and unsure what was happening. I tried to focus my gaze on the lid of my latte. Steam had gathered underneath, tiny bubbles of heat were trapped inside--like I was trapped in this room. They sat on a sofa and Jules took to the floor, eyes avoiding mine when I finally had the courage to look up.

“Do you want to tell them?” Ian turned to me.

I shook my head, sipped my coffee again and wished I could sink into the chair. Could they blame me? Did any of them think that this was good for any of us?

“Cat is looking to leave the band,” Ian nodded. “I have to call people and figure out what type of paperwork needs to happen. I’ll have things to sign for all of you--I’m going to have to talk to the label’s lawyer first, though.”

“So that’s just it?” Niall asked again, his eyes pointed at me with a furious stare. “You’re a liar and a quitter?”

“Niall I don’t think you really understand,” I told him, anger rising in my voice. “But if you’d like to make a lot of assumptions, by all means, go ahead.”

“S’my only choice, right? Since you’ve been lying.”

“You guys need to figure out what you’re doing from here. Are you interested in staying in the band?” Ian tried to break up the tension, held a hand in my direction to quiet me.

“Without Cat?” Miles asked, a wrinkle in his forehead when he made eye contact with me. “With no lead singer?”

“Just the four of us?” Jules pulled her legs up to her chest, her voice was quiet and high pitched.

“Yeah, I mean, the four of you can continue on.”

“I don’t know,” Niall let out a breath. “I’m too pissed off to figure out what the fuck we should do.”

“Right,” Ian nodded. “Think about it. But we need to cancel the show tonight, and tomorrow, really. Before we figure out what the next step is.”

Niall looked up at me and shook his head, a sarcastic laugh before he said: “Great, cancel them.”

The swampy landscape of Florida passed by my window, the white lines on the edge of the street blurred as we neared my parents’ house. Heart in my throat when I knocked on the door, the only thing more embarrassing than hiding out in Florida while headlines blew over was realizing I didn’t have a key to my childhood home.

Marta smiled when she tugged the door open, wrapped her arms around me and didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to.

But my mother did. She appeared around the corner, glasses perched on her nose and expecting eyes that grazed over my figure. “You look tired.”

I held back an unsurprised laugh. “I am,” I admitted. “It’s been a busy few days.”

“Quitting your band and coming home doesn’t sound busy.”

“Well, it was a lot of paperwork.”

Marta tried to ease the tension. “Do you want a snack? A drink?”

“I’m fine,” I told her, a reassuring nod before I looked back at my mom. “Thanks for letting me come home.”

“Well…” she made a disapproving sound with her tongue, a shrug of her shoulders as if she always knew the band was destined for failure. “What happened?”

I tilted my head and looked at her for a second. She couldn’t really care--her question was more likely a nosy way to put the puzzle pieces together. I wasn’t stupid enough to think her book club wasn’t asking questions.

“I think I have a drinking problem.”

Her eyes went wide for a second, but she regained her composure in a quick beat. I kept talking before she could say anything.

“And I think you do too, to be honest, but, that’s really none of my business.” I shrugged my shoulders and picked up my suitcase, turned on my feet to head for the stairs.

“Catherine,” her voice was frantic. “Did you just say you think I have a drinking problem?”

“Yep,” I said over my shoulder. She was now a few steps behind me, heels clicking on the marble floors.

“That’s absurd, you’re absolutely out of your mind.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, lips parted when I turned around to cut her off.

“Maybe I am, mom. Maybe I’m completely fucking neurotic at this point because of you.”

“Me? What are you talking about? How could I possibly have anything to do with your--band mess?”

“Because while you were too busy pouring glass after glass of Chardonnay, I was upstairs having panic attacks and nightmares and developing PTSD. But you didn’t give a fuck.”

She let out a short noise, maybe one of shock or even frustration. “I was grieving, Catherine.”

“Me too, but I guess this house wasn’t big enough for the both of us.”

She didn’t reply, her eyes blinked a few times in a robotic way before I lugged my suitcase up the stairs and slammed my bedroom door shut.

My phone was buzzing every few minutes--messages, DMs, people contacting me in every way to figure out what went wrong and where I was.

But none of my friends. Niall and Jules had no clue where I was. I boarded a plane the night I signed paperwork, only 23 hours after I told them I was out. Landed first in New York to meet with my lawyer, then one with label people to finalize an arrangement. They were free to go on without me if they chose.

Went back to my apartment, poured out the bottles of Tequila and Champagne that had been a mainstay. Threw some clothes in a suitcase and took a car to JFK. Now, here I was, standing in my childhood bedroom with open balcony doors that let in a nice breeze.

Whether or not I felt good about how it came out, the fact that everyone knew was a relief. I didn’t have to shrink away from pictures of Cameron in the bathroom or ignore the memories that still floated to my mind every once in a while. It still hurt, but now that the hurt was out in the open, it could finally breathe.

When I sat on the balcony that night and looked out to the Lagoon, a buzzing from my phone beside me lasted longer than I expected. One, then two, then three. A phone call.

From Lila.

I stared at the screen for a minute, momentarily convincing myself that it was a butt dial, a mistake. Maybe she hadn’t heard what happened.

But then I answered and I didn’t expect her to be so nice.

“Cat! Hi! I was just calling to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m alright,” I said it with a nod, unsure if the words were true or just my automatic answer. “I’m in Florida--at my parents.”

“I figured,” she sighed. “I would need a minute away too.”

“Lila--you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, I quit the band and I was lying to them for a while and--”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay,” I nodded again. “Are you okay?”

She let out a laugh, not a sarcastic or angry one, but one that let me know the question was ironic. “Well, yeah. But, it’s been kind of wild back here. I just--uh--wanted to let you know that me and Harry broke up.”

“What?” I asked this with more force than I intended. “Wait--when?”

“Yesterday--he was a mess after you left and everything was really stressful, and--”

“He was a mess after I left?”

“Well, he was angry. I mean he’s pretty mad at you and he feels betrayed and--”

“Okay,” I held up a hand even though she couldn’t see me. I didn’t need the details.

“Well you asked.”

“I know--I just, I thought things were going well with you two.”

She let out a sigh. “Yeah, they were. I mean, we were fine, but, I think he’s always going to like you.”

I felt my own eyes go wide, head tilted to the side in the glow of the Palm Beach moon. “Me?”

I didn’t know the right response. Act surprised? Act disgusted? The news was already putting my system into overdrive, the flutter in my heart at her most recent confession made me dizzy.

“Yes, you, Cat--don’t act like it’s such a shock,” she laughed at this like it was silly. “He told me that it wasn’t just once.”

I blew air out between my lips, trying to slow my pulse. “It wasn’t when you were together--he didn’t cheat on you, I promise.”

“I know,” she said. “I told him to call me if he ever gets over you,” she laughed, her voice was sweet and sincere through the phone. “So maybe I’ll hear from him one day, but probably not.”

“Lila,” I breathed out her name and for once, I was at a loss for words. Did I apologize? Did I make some excuse about the tension--whether or not she seemed mad?

“It’s alright, Cat,” she laughed. “Maybe the point of Harry being in my life was so we would find each other. Maybe we’re friend soulmates,” I could hear her smile through the phone, likely from the knowledge that her words would pull an eye roll from me.

But instead I felt my lips turn upward--just a little--when a boat motored by and the leaves of the palm trees danced in the wind.

Out of all of them, Lila was the one to reach out first. Something about it felt ironic and annoying and somehow still completely serendipitous.

And for weeks there were people staked outside the front gate. July slowly bled into August and I prayed that the media coverage would fade with summer. My mom seemed to bask in the glow of flashing cameras and my dad had slowly resigned to the fact that his drives to and from the office were now bookended by questions about what I was doing and if the band was breaking up.

But none of use knew the answer until three weeks in, when my phone rang one night and Niall’s voice was short on the other end.

“D’ya have a minute?”

“Yeah,” I nodded quickly, sat down on my bed and folded my legs beneath me. I didn’t mean to sound eager, but I’d been hoping for an update on their decision: move forward or disband. I’d yet to hear from him at all and was hoping he’d cooled off since I’d last seen him. “What’s up?”

“Well, we, uh--we’ve been meetin’. We talked to Ian, talked to Ron and some label people. We’re not sure we’re going to stay together.”

“You’re not sure?” I repeated his words for clarity. The decision didn’t sound like something that could be left in the gray area.

“We’re not. We’re not going forward.”

Silence for a second. “Oh,” I said. “Are you--how do you feel about that?”

“Weird, honestly. Mad, upset, confused.”

“Yeah.”

“I just don’t get it, Cat--I don’t get how things were going so well and yet everything between us got worse and worse.”

“It’s my fault,” I said the words quietly, more calmness laced between them with some salty air and sunshine now a part of my daily routine. “I should have been more honest with you.”

Another pause, and for a second I wasn’t sure if he’d hung up, angry and let down my by half-assed apology.

“I just wish you hadn’t let Harry get under your skin so much.”

It was a blow I hadn’t expected, I pulled at a thread on my duvet. “It wasn’t just about Harry, Niall,” I tried to not sound angry, looked up at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. My wet hair was up in a towel, fresh out of the shower and fresh out of patience to talk about Harry.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?”

I stared at the wall, unsure of how to answer his question. On the other side of the sheetrock was the bathroom I’d spent so many nights in. Feet on the cool tile, silently sobbing about the nightmares or wishing it was me and not him.

If he wanted the truth, I would give it to him.

“It was my first chance to not be the girl with the dead brother,” I said harshly. “My parents are shitty people, Niall--and when my brother died,” I paused. The thought had been circling in my brain for so long, but putting it into words for the first time made it hurt more. “To them I just became a reminder of him. And my friends from high school and the people in town--I was just one of two, part of a whole.”

“But you told Jules and not me?”

I grew more impatient. “I was drunk, Niall, and I opened my mouth because Harry was being an asshole.”

“Harry? I thought she found out years ago.”

“Yeah--right after I met Harry.”

“Freshman year?”

I rolled my eyes at all of his questions. “Yes--he was being a dick because he was calling me Catherine when we first met and I hate that name because my mother and my brother are literally the only two people on the planet who call me that.”

Another pause. “Oh,” he said, almost like a puzzle piece had fallen into place. “But you didn’t tell him why you didn’t like that name because you didn’t want to bring up your brother.”

It wasn’t a question, he said the words with conviction, informing himself of the rock and hard place I had been stuck between.

“Telling people within the first two weeks of meeting them that you have a dead twin brother is kind of a vibe killer.”

He let out an awkward laugh, my shoulders felt less tense and I took a leap of faith. “I guess I have PTSD from his death, I mean, I was there. I’ve been googling the symptoms and reading stuff online. I think that’s why I drank so much. Harry constantly calling me that name made all of the memories worse and feel so much closer.”

Quiet again, then he sighed. “I just wish you’d been honest with me.”

I blinked a few times, disappointed that he’d brought it back to the dishonesty and the perceived betrayal when I’d just blurted it all out. I wasn’t left with much in Florida--plenty of time and space to think about the things that had gone wrong and the way I’d reacted. After a few weeks of piecing it together and accepting that maybe there was something wrong with me, maybe I did have a problem--Niall’s lack of response or acknowledgement felt like salt in the wound.

“I know.”

“I just think I need some space, Cat.”

My heart sunk--not that I didn’t know leaving the band would result in this. I was ready for the awkward phone calls and the fumbling to figure out what we were now: friends? Bandmates? Former roommates?

I just hadn’t considered that we’d be nothing, potentially, if he was too hurt.

But after talking to him that night, I wasn’t shocked when Jules wouldn’t answer my calls. At first she’d text back and say she was busy, running an errand or reading Tarot. But after a few weeks of no contact outside of my parents and Marta, reading news articles in my bedroom about the break up and the next steps and the rumors of why it all happened, I called Leah.

“I need to move out,” I told her. “I need to be somewhere other than Florida and other than New York.”

“Okay,” she said, I could hear typing on the other end. “Los Angeles sounds like an option, then.”

“Do you think that’s weird, though? For me to suddenly buy a house in LA?”

“I mean--Ian called me the other day. Said a lot of writing requests have still been coming in since people don’t really know why you left. Los Angeles would be a good place to do that.”

“I’ll write,” I nodded, something in my gut pulled me towards it. “Who’s been asking?”

“A bunch of people, apparently. Ian said there have been more requests since the split. I guess people figure you’re still doing that--I don’t know.”

I paused for a second, thought about what would happen if word got out to Niall or Jules that I was writing for other people. Would they be angry? Would they care?

It felt unfair for me to have to factor them into a decision when they wouldn’t answer my calls. For so long they’d been the people I could count on, no matter how much I fucked up or how bad things got.

But now I didn’t have Niall, I didn’t have Jules, I didn’t have Eddie or Miles. I didn’t have Ian and I didn’t have Harry. I didn’t have a record label and I didn’t have shows to put on. I’d lost almost everything.

And after all of the uncertainty in my life, the only constant was music. I figured I deserved to keep that.

Summer 2019

The knocking sent my heart to my throat, one that I’d been waiting for all morning. The California sun was warm through the windows, and when I opened the door, Jules’s hair was blonder than I remembered and Niall’s was darker.

“Hi,” Jules said, her lips curved up in a small smile. Niall nodded in greeting, I stepped aside, hoping that I didn’t look or sound as stupid as I felt.

“Come in--I can make tea, or coffee or something.”

They stepped inside, took a look around the foyer. Jules hit Niall in the stomach when he didn’t reply, he grunted in response. “Yeah, tea--that’d be lovely.”

I rolled my eyes at his nervousness, let my mouth quirk into a smirk. “We don’t have to act like strangers, you know.”

They both nodded, awkward smiles in return when we stood, frozen in place.

“Does it really feel that way?”

Jules relented first after a tiny giggle. “No--we’re not strangers. We just--it’s been a while.”

Nine months, to be exact. Texts and phone calls and even emails in between, fall turned into winter and by the time Christmas came, I lived on a tree lined street with other celebrities who could afford this level of privacy.

I led them into the kitchen and sighed, put the teapot on the stove. “Well, I kind of had some shit to get together.”

When I turned around and let my hands rest on the counter, Niall took a breath before he spoke. “Glad we’re here, you know, just--I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

We hadn’t. First we just sent funny videos, memes back and forth and eventually I got added to a group message with both of them in it. Eddie and I would facetime every once in a while, Miles and I would check in every few weeks and I’d send him some songs I was working on.

I nodded, I hadn’t talked much about it with anyone--except for Lila. She visited for the New Year and brought me sparkling cider, it’s without the alcohol, but with all of the bubbles and fun.

“You were too angry to hear me out,” I shrugged my shoulders. True, but also probably not what he wanted to hear.

“Can you blame me, Cat? We worked so hard for that band and that success and it felt like you were throwing it away.”

Jules tensed at his volume, looked at me for a reply.

I nodded, remembered what Lila had advised. Hear them out, validate that they were hurt.

“I know--I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

This apparently caught Niall off guard--maybe he’d expected me to fight him on it, defend myself or my actions and make it seem like it was his fault.

But it wasn’t. The drinking was my fault. The running from my emotions was my fault. None of them made me behave the way I did.

“I get that you had stuff to figure out with your family, but why didn’t you want to try to work it out with us?”

I sighed, Jules pulled out a stool and sat, her eyes on me as she waited for an answer. I knew the question was coming. I knew they’d want to know and I knew that they probably still felt confused and unsure about what had transpired almost a year ago. I had finally given Niall more information about Cameron, but I’d left out the pieces back then that I hadn’t yet found.

The band had been pulling me down, whether or not I wanted to admit it. Staying in the band meant sacrificing my sanity, and when the moment came to choose one or the other, I had to choose myself.

Fonder couldn’t exist if I wanted to be okay--and if I wanted to be okay then Fonder had to come to an end. I couldn’t have my cake and eat it too.

I shook my head, I didn’t know where to start. “I don’t think I would have been able to do it with all of you guys right there.”

“All of us?” Jules offered a knowing smirk.

I bit at my lip and then admitted: “Harry.”

Jules nodded, Niall dropped my gaze.

Back in the spring Jules finally called me, the flowers had started to bloom and news of my signing with a new publishing company had started to break. I told her I was sorry for how it all played out and she told me that Miles was doing session stuff at New Trick. Eddie was working with other artists and she hadn’t heard from Harry.

So now, May in my Los Angeles kitchen, almost a year after I left them on the road and almost a year since I’d seen or heard from Harry, his name echoed against the granite counter top when Niall met my gaze again.

“He’s been asking about ya.”

I counted to three, play it cool. “You’ve talked to him?”

He kept my gaze, sat beside Jules and I wondered if this was a test. They’d planted the seed about visiting me in February, they opted to stay at a hotel and Niall told us he’d been in the studio working on a solo project. I think he expected me to be mad, but I was just proud.

“He might lay some bass tracks for the stuff I’ve been doing.”

I nodded. “I didn’t know if he was still playing or what he was up to.”

“Did some stuff with Vince, actually, did some session stuff with them for a while, continues to be a heartthrob, the usual.” He cracked a smile at that, Jules rolled her eyes when the tea kettle whistled.

“Actually, Cat, there was something we wanted to talk to you about.”

I poured the water into three cups, kept my back to them when I replied casually: “what’s up?”

I had no clue what it was. No idea what they wanted to discuss and no idea if they were using this visit as an opportunity to corner me.

“My birthday’s soon and I wanted to have a party in New York. We wanted you to come.”

It felt too soon for a reunion. Didn’t this type of thing come years later? When one of us was married or when someone had a baby? I turned around and pushed the cups towards them, offered a few options for tea before I replied. “With, like, everyone?”

Niall pulled a bag out of it’s sleeve and dunked it into the steaming water. “With Harry, is what she’s asking.”

“I know what she’s asking,” Jules retorted before she turned back to me. “And yes--he’ll be there.”

“Is this some kind of intervention?” I joked. “Cause I’ve already been sober for almost a year.”

“No,” Jules shook her head. “But we’re extremely proud of your sobriety. I know things got fucked up, but I want us all to be okay, even if Fonder is over.” She looked over to Niall, waiting for him to add on.

“S’also our first party we’re hosting together,” he leaned over to pat her on the knee, his tone casual when he dropped a metaphorical bomb. “As a couple.”

I had to choke down the tea that I’d just sipped, I set the cup down and blinked a few times. “You guys are dating?!”

“We spent a lot of time together when the band split up,” Jules said, a wriggle of her eyebrows in my direction. “Turns out I’m not that annoying after all.”

Niall rolled his eyes, turned back to see me. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” I smiled. “It’s amazing, I’m really happy for you guys.”

“You are?” Jules asked, her voice smaller now.

“Of course,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Niall shrugged his shoulders, his eyes met mine when he spoke. “Well, I wasn’t exactly the most on board for you and Harry gettin’ together.”

“That was different,” I waved a hand, “and stupid.”

“Was it, though?” Jules’ question was pointed, apparently she still wanted us to be together as much as she had back then.

“Yes, Jules--it was different. It was us being dumb and horny.”

“I think you should come to her birthday party, chat with him.”

I watched Niall for a second. “And why is that?”

Another shrug. “I think it’d be good for you two to reconnect.”

“I’ll come,” I said, “I’m not against coming.”

“But you’re against reconnecting with Harry?” Another prod from Jules.

“I don’t know,” I let out a groan. “It’s been so long! I don’t even know what he’s been doing or who he’s been seeing or--.”

“No one,” Niall said. “He’s seeing no one.”

“Well, whatever,” I ignored him. “Whether or not he’s seeing someone I’ll still come.”

“Right,” Niall smirked, “but him being single is probably a good pull, right?”

“Don’t make this a thing,” I warned, another sip of tea through the smirk that took up residency on my face.

“Every single thing between the two of you has been a thing,” Jules said. “Maybe your souls have met before.”

“Enough with the reincarnation stuff, will you?” Niall looked over to her like she was crazy. I mean, maybe she was, but the look in his eyes was different now: less judgmental, more loving.

She waved him off, her focus back to me when she sighed. “You don’t have more questions about him?” She rested her elbows on the counter, offered a look that told me she didn’t believe my nonchalance.

“None,” I said.

“You don’t even want to know what he’s been asking about ya?”

I let my tongue slide against my teeth, a willful attempt to not take the bait.

“He knows we’re here,” Jules said--again, a casual admission and a curiosity on her end about how I’d react.

“Are you going to call him up and give him a full report as soon as you leave?” I eyed Niall playfully, giggled when he rolled his eyes.

“Probably,” he teased. “Tell him that you seem happier than I’ve ever seen ya.”

“Make sure to allude to the fact that it’s cause he’s finally not in my life,” I cracked.

“Just as mean as ever, though,” he laughed.

I smiled at them, a sense of relief to learn that peace could come after change, after heartbreak, and after hurt. But it was mostly nice to know that even if everything else had changed, Niall’s ability to poke fun at me and Jules’ affinity for cosmic conspiracy theories had remained exactly the same.

So I flew to New York a few weeks later, my hair shorter than the last time I’d been there and the sky a brighter blue. My apartment had been empty for a year--dust had gathered on the counters and the artwork I’d left on the walls felt out of place now.

I’d been in and out a few times, once for a meeting with my lawyer, another time when I flew in to write with Adam Levine. When I pushed the door open and tugged my suitcase inside, the emptiness felt all consuming.

It felt like I was sneaking into someone else’s house--pulling back the curtains in someone else’s bedroom and slipping into the shoes of someone I would never be.

Being back felt weird--different than I expected and somehow more nerve wracking than facing my mother or facing the truth: I was different.

The worst part about it was that the piano faced the same window and the same chairs sat on top of the same carpet. It had been frozen in time, a sad and stark reminder of what used to be.

But I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though--soon enough whisked off to meet up with Jules and Nialls. I was excited to see Miles and Eddie despite feeling like an absolute idiot. Did they blame it all on me? Did any of them recognize how toxic Harry and I had been?

My nerves were palpable, leaving beads of sweat on my forehead when I walked behind Jules and Niall and the security detail that would spend the night by our sides.

A whole year of sobriety, not one drop in 362 days--and tonight was my first time in a bar.

Jules had offered something else: a restaurant, their new apartment, anywhere but a place that’s sole purpose was to get you drunk. But I declined. The Bitter End was the only place that this reunion could happen, and instead of using tequila to calm the thumping in my chest, I was left with breathing techniques I’d learned from a mediation app and my 1-year coin from AA in my pocket.

I had no idea if he’d even show up. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t nauseous all day when they were texting in a group, just like we used to before things exploded. Before I exploded.

So I decided that Harry’s presence tonight wouldn’t make or break me. His presence at all throughout my time in New York wouldn’t break me.

I didn’t want to be the bomb that someone needed to diffuse. I kept watch of the door and acted as if I wasn’t checking my phone for an update, simultaneously hoping he’d show up and hoping that I’d never have to face him.

But when the clock ticked closer to closing time and I stifled another yawn--apparently being sober in bars past midnight just made you exhausted--a feeling of disappointment was left circling in my chest. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe he just couldn’t do it.

Around 1am I climbed into the back of the car behind Jules, settled into my seat when she drunkenly giggled into Niall’s shoulder. I stared down at my phone screen and opened the group message from Harry.

I’ll try to swing by.

It was the feeling that had hovered inside of me for a long time, knotted in my ribs and tangled in my lungs. The feeling that used to have me reaching for a bottle: Not good enough.

But I noticed it, I knew it now. This was the moment I would have gone home and popped the champagne to let myself fall asleep without the echoing in my head: not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

It felt good to know I was on the other side, more insight, more awareness and friends from AA to text if it really got dark again. But I looked to the middle seats in front of me, Nialls and Jules laughed between themselves, the streets of Lower Manhattan passed by the tinted windows and somewhere back home my mom was pouring another glass and my dad was ignoring her.

And yet I was okay. Something about time away from the band and time away from alcohol had taught me how to swim, no longer dragged beneath the surface by the uncomfortable emotions that tried to drown me for so long. I could fall asleep without the TV on and I wondered that night where he was, but I stayed afloat.

I hyped myself up the next day to show up to Jules’ party an hour early. I tucked flowers in a vase and rolled my eyes when Niall blasted songs from our first EP over the speakers, can’t believe we thought this shit was good, we sound so young! Jules obsessed over which shade of lipstick she should wear and I just tried to keep my hands busy.

Maybe he wouldn’t show up here, either.

But people spilled in and their roof deck was the perfect spot for a summer birthday party. By dinnertime I pretended that I didn’t hate small talk and made nice with people I hadn’t seen in years. Nice to see you, I’ve been good, yeah still writing. This wasn’t about me--this was for Jules.

He slipped in at some point, blended in with the crowd until I did another scan. My eyes caught his figure, a loosely buttoned shirt and a bracelet around his wrist that glistened in the sun when I stood frozen in place.

Sunglasses shielded his eyes and his hair was longer than before--he moved with ease, after all, he hadn’t disappeared and cost people their jobs.

Ian laughed by my side as if this wasn’t a monumental moment, he joked with Miles and Vince about something unrelated when I blinked a few times, looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his arrival. Okay, the sudden change in the atmosphere was apparently only noticeable to me.

I looked down at the red solo cup in my hand: cranberry juice, seltzer, a splash of lime. I excused myself quickly and weaved through the other people until I could slide the door to the master bedroom shut. The music was muffled on the other side of the wall, laughter from the party bounced against the door and now, I could breathe. In, out, inhale, exhale.

I walked over to the living room, met face to face with the bottles of liquor on the counter. It pulled me in, their labels and fancy names made my cheeks tingle. But instead of walking over and uncapping the tequila like I may have wanted to, I turned left down the hall, found myself in a room where they kept all their instruments.

A piano in the corner, one Niall saved up for our sophomore year after his birthday. I went and looked at the words scribbled on note paper beside it, an old glass of water--did Jules bicker with him like a true girlfriend about leaving his dishes out?

Beside it was a guitar, the one I’d gifted him after we signed the record label, the year we moved out of our first apartment. I plucked a few strings, a melody coming out when I let my fingers fumble through a progression.

Maybe this is how I’d been doing it. The desire to drink was usually quelled with a song, the outpouring of whatever emotion I wanted to run from--just like I’d hurried inside to avoid Harry.

He had the same hold over my heart whether I was drunk or sober, busy or bored. I’d been avoiding the vulnerability that he brought out of me, like the time he let me cut his hair and giggle in his sheets. I didn’t know what it was about him, something I felt I’d never fully capture in a song or in a sentence out loud.

There are things that I sing

that I'd never have the confidence to say

There are things I believe

that I only figure out when I sit down to play

The door creaked, a figure on the other side of the room when I looked up and stopped singing.

“Hi,” he said, his lips in a thin line like he didn’t know if he should smile or frown.

I put the guitar back in its stand and stood up. “Hi--sorry, I was just messing around.”

“Sounded good,” he nodded, a cup in his hand that he sipped from when he broke our gaze. “You can keep going, if you want. What’s it about?”

He took a few steps closer to me, set the solo cup on the piano and then picked up the guitar. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and tuned it a bit, looked up at me when I didn’t reply.

“Just a song,” I shrugged, unsure if the smirk on his face meant anything or if I was just reading too far into the dimple in his cheek.

He plucked what I was playing, easily able to recreate the song when he sat on a stool.

Nervousness in my words when they floated between us. “Shouldn’t we be outside?”

“S’been a minute since we wrote something together,” he shrugged. “Don’t think anyone will mind. Sing it again?”

I sat down, smoothed out the skirt of my dress and cleared my throat. I ran through the verse again, suddenly self conscious to be this real in front of him. This time I went on, eyes closed when it felt like the song had always existed.

The truth don't scare me in a melody,

immortalizing my sincerity

There are things that I sing that

I'd never have the confidence to say

Like that song about my parents that I'll never show 'em

I paused, laughed a little when I didn’t know where to take it. He hummed for a second, knew we were almost at the hook. He filled in the rest like it was easy.

And the ones about my exes that they don't deserve

But when it comes to you, I'm still trying to find the words

“Hey,” Jules’ voice was at the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah,” I stood up, Harry let out a laugh at my quick reaction. “Sorry--we were just--”

“Messing around,” he stole my words from earlier, looked up at me when he set the guitar back down.

“I was just coming out,” I said, walking over to Jules.

“Me too,” Harry followed behind me quickly.

“You guys can stay,” she laughed, “you don’t have to come out.”

“S’fine,” Harry said, my words muffled between: “we were done.”

Jules rolled her eyes but headed back for the living room. “Glad you two are reacquainted,” she smiled over her shoulder.

I ignored her comment, Harry got pulled off by an old classmate and I fell into conversation with Eddie when he introduced me to the girl he’d started dating. I pinched his cheek and felt like a proud parent to learn he’d moved on from his crush on me--a true marker that time could heal all.

I ignored the melody that burned in my head, stole glances at Harry and tried to make sense of the encounter we had shared. If nothing else came from tonight, at least I had the start of a new song.

I caught Ian up on the writing I’d done with other artists--he’d been in the loop and even given me a recommendation for a new manager when I moved to LA. But when the sun started to set and people started to get drunker than they’d been, I found myself sitting off to the side, tracing the pink skyline of the city that still felt like home.

Niall kissed Jules on the cheek when she welcomed late arrivals--commotion on the other end of the roof deck--it felt reassuring to know that everyone’s world kept spinning without me at the center.

“We’ll have to finish that one, eventually,” Harry sat down next to me, folded his arms across his chest when he smiled. “Might already have half the hook written up here,” he pointed to his temple.

I shifted down on the patio furniture, careful to keep enough room between us.

“Pretty sure that’s my song,” I eyed him. “And now you’re writing it for me?”

He pushed his lips out in thought. “Could be ours, if you wanted.”

I rolled my eyes, tilted my head to the side. “Still just as annoying as I remembered.”

He smiled at that, quiet for a second when he held my gaze. “S’good to see you.”

I didn’t know how to reply, so I nodded my head. “Ditto.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make it last night, I was working and ended up staying late at the studio.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, looked at the glass in his hand. Clear--ice cubes that swirled around in the summer heat. “Is that vodka?” I changed the topic. “I thought you were a beer guy.”

“It’s water,” he shrugged. “Figured you shouldn’t be the only sober one here tonight.”

I bit at my lip, nodded at the sweet gesture but felt like words were stuck in my throat. “I didn’t know you knew.”

He let out a short laugh, “Jules isn’t great at keeping secrets.”

I shook my head, pretended to be annoyed when I teased: “never had any privacy in that band.”

“Yeah, well--we fucked a lot of things up.”

“We?” I eyed him suspiciously for a moment, certain he meant me.

“I’m the one who couldn’t figure out how to not be a dick to you, so--yeah, we.”

“I think me being a liar and drunk all the time takes the cake, but I appreciate you saying that.”

“I didn’t say you don’t take the cake,” he laughed, knocking his knee against mine. “But I should have done a lot differently.”

I twisted a ring around my finger, pulled for more information. “Like?”

He smirked, rolled his eyes at my nosiness but then let out a sigh. “Fought with you less, called you out on your drinking sooner, not dated Lila,” he trailed off like maybe there was more, but I cut him off.

“I don’t regret you dating Lila.”

“So I’ve heard,” he smiled. “So typical of you to steal my girlfriend.”

“You broke up with her!” I laughed. “We bonded over both going through big break ups. You dumped her, I broke up the band--it was a very healing experience for us to have each other. She’s a good friend, she always will be.”

He laughed, looked out at the sky and shrugged. “Yeah, she just wasn’t for me, I knew it all along,” he teased.

I pulled my head back. “Wait--if you knew that then why did you make me be so fucking nice to her?”

“I needed her to stick around,” he said this with a smirk, a dimple appeared in his cheek when he dropped my gaze and then looked down at his hands.

“Spill it,” I said, angling myself towards him. “You’re not telling me something.”

He let out a sigh, looked over at me and then rubbed at his eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “I needed her to stick around because I wanted to make you jealous.”

“Make me jealous?! Of her? And being with you?”

He fought off a smile for a second, but when I let out a belly laugh and leaned back, he cracked. “It was stupid--we were in a constant push and pull back then and I didn’t know how to admit it to you that I was hurt when we broke--when we stopped sleeping together.”

I bit at the inside of my cheek, let his words float in the evening air high above the East Village. But then I nodded, voice small when I said: “yeah, it sucked. I’m sorry I made you keep my secret.”

He looked at me, almost surprised by my words, but then he let out a breath. “I’m sorry I held it over your head for so long. And tried to make you jealous.”

I watched a blinking light in the sky, a plane landing at LaGuardia or a star fizzling out. “I guess I deserved it.”

His eyebrows arched at that, a silent request for more information when I shrugged.

“I was basically always buzzed and lying to the most important people in my life. A hot mess would be an understatement.”

He bit back a laugh, nodded quietly. “I get it, though.”

My heart did a somersault, an uncomfortable feeling that lingered when the sky became a hazier orange. “You do?”

He nodded again, more confident this time, like he knew exactly how I felt without the slightest of explanation. “Grief does crazy shit to people. And I don’t think you ever got to heal yours.”

I clenched my jaw inadvertently, his words were true but plucked at something in me so deep and real that I didn’t have the words to reply. Luckily, he knew that.

“We were both different people back then, I think.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And a lot has changed.”

“Can I admit something?”

“Shoot.”

“My feelings haven’t.”

I looked over at him quickly, Jules’ words perched overhead like mistletoe. Twin flames--a soul connection that typically made me gag. This time, my heartbeat slowed and the anxiety I’d had about running into him seemed to dissipate, I nodded. I knew they hadn’t, I knew mine hadn’t, either. His words weren’t shocking, and when the last three years played over in my head, I wondered what would have happened if someone else had joined the band.

I smiled, an unstable attempt at honesty and vulnerability. “I just wish we could have a fresh start, you know?”

He laughed at this, angled himself towards me when he smiled. “Nice to meet you, I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

I eyed him for a second, trying to decide if I thought his ploy to start fresh was stupid or romantic. I let my hand reach forward to shake his. “Cat,” I nodded, lips twisted into a smile before I could even meet his gaze. “Call me Cat.”

He tugged me closer to him, paused for a second before he let our lips meet. “Cat it is. But I think we have a song to finish.”

table of contents | join the tag list + talk to me | the playlist

taglist: @mellamolayla @meganlikesfandoms @afterstylesmadeit @sing-me-a-song-harry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfics-xx @shawnsblue @avipshamitra @a-secretyoucankeep @groovybaybee @nearbyou @blueviiolence @kiwicherryharry @thurhomish @bopbopstyles @live-at-the-forum @ajayque @mleestiles @ashbabao @anssu-amry @odetostep @bemibou @caritocp @ursogoldenshan @rainbowbutterflyboy @bubblegumstyles7 @1142590m @winter-soldier-007 @beingsolonely @sloanferg @ivanacats @mumplans @wastedsweetcreature @harryssugarhigh @wanderlustiing @sunflowers-styles @g0bl1nqueen @stepping-into-the-light @kara-246 @stilljosiegrossie @harrys-cherrry @awomanindeniall @styles217 @bxtchboy69 @swtxel @madasameg

#cmc #call me cat #idkthisisjustforfanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles story #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles uni au #harry styles author #harry styles au #niall horan fanfic #1dff #one direction fanfic

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

Text

Cultural Exchange

Written for @kataang-week

Day 2: Blending Cultures

Words: 2,009

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

Summary: Katara has some selfish reasons for encouraging Aang to explore Fire Nation culture.

*******

Katara was starting to get worried as she walked up to Zuko's old family house on Ember Island. The outdoor furniture was smashed and splintered, and the door was ajar, hanging off its hinges. She sped up, beginning to panic, and ran up the stairs onto the porch.

She threw the door all the way open forcefully. "Hello!? Aang?"

She was greeted by a chorus of pained male groans.

"Close the door!" Haru wailed, shielding his eyes from the bright morning light that was now flooding the front room of the house. All the other young men, basically every male friend their group had made since leaving the South Pole, gave similar cries of distress from where they were strewn haphazardly across sofas and armchairs.

Katara sighed in relief, but then grew annoyed at the boys for scaring her. Instead of closing the door, she moved to the windows and threw all the curtains open.

"You're evil!" moaned Te'o from the floor, where he had fallen out of his chair.

"What exactly happened to those plans for a laid back, calm bachelor party?" Katara asked the room harshly, "How did it go? 'Oh don't worry, Katara, Zuko's not one to throw wild parties!'"

"Uggghhh, I"m not, but I'm friends with a lot of bad influences," came a weak voice from under a coffee table.

Katara laughed at the sight of the soon-to-be-married Firelord crawling out from under the table, looking like he had been put through a dozen successive Agni Kais. But her laughter died and she gasped when she saw what was on Zuko's head.

"Zuko, what happened!?"

"What does it look like? Your brother got us drunk."

"No, I mean what happened to your hair!"

Katara bent all the water from a nearby vase and froze it into a flat, shiny mirror, and held it up to Zuko's face. His eyes widened in horror and he leapt to his feet, upending the table.

All of his hair had been reduced to a narrow strip down the center of his head. That hair had been left long, and was tied back, but both sides of it had been shaved down to his scalp.

He recognized this look. It was exactly the way Sokka had his hair when Zuko had first encountered him.

"Aw Zuko, I'm touched!" crooned Katara dramatically. "Showing your support for rebuilding Southern Tribe culture by sporting a warrior's wolf tail!"

Zuko stared in disbelief at his reflection. He raised his shaking hands to the sides of his face.

"I look like I stuck my head between two grinding stones," Zuko muttered.

"Oh, don't say that, I'm sure once the Firelord is seen sporting this hairdo at his wedding, it will be all the rage across the Fire Nation," said Katara with a grin.

Zuko buried his face in his hands. "Oh, spirits, the wedding! Mai's going to kill me."

Katara was about to agree, but was interrupted by a scream of anguish and horror coming from the bathroom.

Katara and Zuko both bolted across the room and down the hall. She whipped out her bending pouch, ready to slice the door open, but lucky it was still unlocked. She kicked the door open and her blood froze in fear again as she saw Sokka doubled over, his face buried in the sink and his hands over his head.

"Sokka, what's wrong!?" asked Katara urgently, placing her hands on her brother's back. "Are you hurt—oh…."

She jumped back and gasped when Sokka turned to face her, his lip quivering.

He was completely bald, with a crude painted blue arrow leading from the back of his head, ending between his eyebrows.

Katara's chuckle at Zuko's expense was nothing compared to the explosion of laughter that erupted out of her now. She had to put a hand on the wall to steady herself as she shook until she was out of breath.

"Well, it was just a regular festival of cultural exchange last night, wasn't it?" she squeaked out.

"This isn't funny, Katara!" said Sokka desperately. "You don't understand, it's not coming off! It's real! And my hair! Next time I visit home, my brain is gonna freeze!"

"Oh, calm down," she said dismissively. She grabbed her brother's cheeks and pulled him down to inspect his new body art. "There's no inflammation on the skin, it's not a real tattoo. You just found some...wow, really durable face paint."

She looked him in the eye suspiciously. "Where did you get this stuff?"

"Uuuuhhh," said Sokka uncertainly. He turned to Zuko. "Where did we get this stuff?"

"Uuuuhhh," Zuko concurred.

Katara rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You don't even remember last night?"

"I can remember most of it," said Zuko defensively. "Things just get a little fuzzy after that bottle of moonpeachshine got opened. He was the one who brought that, so really this is all his fault."

"Hey, I don't remember tying you up and forcing the stuff down your throat, Lord Lots o' Shots," replied Sokka.

"Where's Aang?" Katara suddenly said, her grin wiped from her face.

For a moment, they just looked at each other in silence, then ran through the house again.

After searching the whole house and not finding Aang, Katara was beginning to panic again. But when she checked the back garden, she found Appa there sleeping soundly. A lumpy mass was sitting on the bison's head: a human body, the top half covered by a blanket, but long legs protruded from underneath, with blue arrows ending at the feet.

"Aang!" Katara called as she ran towards him, and thankfully the tattooed feet stirred. Aang slowly sat up, squeezing his eyes shut at the sunlight as the blanket fell from his face.

"Oh come on!" Katara sighed in relief. "You too?"

"What?" he mumbled, getting his bearings. He reached up to scratch his head, and discovered what was itching him.

Aang was wearing a wig. Avatar Aang, the mightiest being in the world, was hungover with a lopsided wig of black hair glued to his head. The foreign hair was pulled back into a knot that was contained by what Katara recognized as Avatar Roku's old hairpin.

Aang reached up and felt the hairpin, and winced. "Oh Spirits, I had hoped that was a dream."

"So you actually remember what happened?" asked Zuko, joining them outside along with Sokka, who had put a hat on to avoid getting sunburned.

"Well last night, Sokka got excited by this idea of me wearing Roku's hairpin at the wedding, as a sign of the Fire Nation's commitment to the Avatar and the balance of the world. I wasn't as intoxicated as he was, so I pointed out to him that one needs hair in order to wear a hairpin crown."

"Oh yeah!" said Sokka, remembering now, "Seems like a short sighted fashion decision."

"It's not short-sighted, that's the point," said Zuko irritably, "When royals or generals suffer a great defeat, they cut their hair off. The crowns of the Fire Lord and Prince are designed so that you can't wear them unless you've gone long enough without a defeat to have enough hair to wear it."

"Yeah, you said all this last night," said Aang. "Then Sokka suggested that I could borrow some hair, and we asked who would have extra hair to borrow, and that's how we ended up partying with the—"

"The Ember Island Players," Zuko finished in horror. "Oh, kill me now, this is going to be the subject of their worst play yet."

"I certainly hope so," said Katara. "I'll be there opening night."

"The wig and the facepaint….seemed like a good idea at the time," finished Aang painfully.

"Well if this stuff doesn't come off my face soon, then the Firelord is going to have to have them interrogated about how they undo it," said Sokka.

"Oh I will?" asked Zuko, raising his eyebrow. "The way I see it, I just have a bad haircut, I didn't put any crap on my head, so you can go begging for them on your own."

"It is not a bad haircut!" said Sokka angrily. "You're now the best looking guy here, saving my dignity is the least you can do."

"I might need help getting this thing off me too," mumbled Aang, futilely pulling at the wig. "And we should probably put this back in a safe spot."

He detached Roku's hairpin crown from his knot, and Katara gasped as his hair (that wasn't actually his hair) fell from it.

The messy black hair fell to the base of his neck, covering his ears and hanging in bangs over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. He scrunched his face in annoyance and brushed the hair away from his face. Katara felt her face grow hot as she watched her boyfriend's fingers run through the hair, and an image floated up in her mind of her fingers replacing them.

Zuko and Sokka went back into the house, Zuko cheekily offering to melt the facepaint off of Sokka, and promised to keep most of his face intact, as Aang climbed down off of Appa, still pulling at the mop glued to his head.

"I need to find a way to get this thing off me," Aang grumbled. "It won't stay out of my face, people can't see my arrow."

"Well, we can't have that," Katara chuckled. "The world can't know that the last airbender has broken such an important air nomad requirement as the sacred chrome dome."

"Well, it's not a requirement," said Aang, "but I still suspect I look far too much like Zuko for my taste—"

"Wait, really?" Katara cut him off, her eyes widening.

"Well you tell me. I don't have a mirror, but I suddenly feel the urge to sulk and reclaim my honor— "No, I mean, shaving your head isn't a requirement or anything?" Katara asked quickly.

Aang seemed surprised by her question. "Uh... no. Most of the boys did anyway, because it gives you a slight edge in airbending, since your skin is in tune with the air currents. We all had to shave it once, when we got our arrows, but most girls grew it back."

He continued to fidget with the wig as he started walking back towards the house, seemingly oblivious to the blush creeping up his girlfriend's face.

Katara tried to act casual as she fell in step with Aang and linked her arm with his.

"Sooooo...hypothetically speaking," she began, not looking at him, "you could have a full head of hair. If you wanted to."

Aang shrugged. "Yeah. But I've never really felt the desire to. With hair, you have to wash it, and there's so many different haircuts to pick from, it's easier to just shave it in the morning."

He turned to look at her curiously. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason!" she said innocently.

They walked in silence for a few seconds, then a strong morning breeze blew past them and Katara felt her knees grow weak as Aang's messy "hair" whipped in the wind, dancing around his handsome face beautifully, in a way his real hair had never grown long enough to do.

"I was just thinking Sokka might be onto something!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. "You know, about wearing Roku's crown. Maybe the Avatar adopting a few Fire Nation fashions will placate a few of the naysayers, who say that you're a foreign interloper. It will show them that you're their Avatar too. It would be a great exchange and blending of cultures, to reflect peaceful cooperation."

Aang frowned thoughtfully. "Well, I….guess that kind of makes sense." He shrugged and chuckled. "I'm still definitely going to get this hair off me, though. Then I can decide whether to start growing my own."

"Hmmm….yeah," Katara whispered greedily under her breath, "I bet that'll look even hotter."

"Hmm? What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing!" she squeaked, and ran back into the house.

#kataang #kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataang-week #aang x katara #katara and aang #aang #avatar aang #katara #fanfic prompt #atla fanfic #ao3 fanfic #atla #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #hangover #day 2: blending cultures #bachelor party

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failedintsave · 3 years

Text

@little-murmaider recently introduced me to her big-brain concept of Stevie Wonder as skwistok listenin', and since then I've been personally attacked by several songs. SO! Here's another one-off because my brain is full of holes now.

(For extra fun, the song mentioned is All I Do. Listen to it on loop for 259036648 repeats like I did when writing this)

Hotter than July

Toki woke to the squeal of sirens driving past the apartment building, a lance of pain shooting through his skull. Peeling his clammy cheek away from the cracked porcelain of the bathtub he slowly, deliberately worked himself up to sitting, groaning as a wave of dizziness sent the world spinning. His teeth felt fuzzy, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue. Lank strands of hair were plastered to his sweaty face; the apartment's air conditioning was broken and the Florida heat was merciless, but since they were so behind on rent, the landlord was dragging his feet on the repairs.

Racking his brain, Toki couldn't quite recall getting home after the party they'd gone to following their gig last night, only a vague image of watching his arms dangle towards the ground, the backs of Nathan's boots flashing beyond his fingers. The sense of vertigo that followed sent him lurching for the toilet.

He wandered into the kitchen on wobbly legs, still nauseous but out of fluids to expel or sweat out. Searching the cabinets yielded nothing so he fished a plastic cup from the dirty dish pile in the sink and rinsed it as thoroughly as he could be bothered, gulping tepid tap water until he had to surface for air.

A tinny sound from the other side of the pass-through penetrated the throbbing haze inside his skull. He stuck his hand under the faucet and scrubbed the stale sweat from his face, drying it on the hem of his shirt as he turned the corner into the filthy living room.

Sprawled on the couch like a swooning Victorian damsel was their beanstalk of a lead guitarist. He'd cuffed his jeans halfway up his calves, socked feet propped on the coffee table next to a box fan aimed directly where he lounged. His eyes were closed and one arm was propped over the top of his head, fingertips twitching out a rhythm to whatever was playing on the cheap headphones covering his ears. Sweat had soaked through the neck of his shirt, the material flattened over his clavicle like a second skin, his face and neck flushed with the heat. Toki's stomach gave a little flop, but not enough to send him running back to the bathroom.

He took a seat on the floor nearby, hoping to get at least partially in the path of the fan for some relief against the cloying humidity. At this range he could make out a little better the song Skwisgaar was listening to, or at least hear the cadence of the singer's voice. Melodic and boppy, definitely not metal, but not something he recognized either. Toki closed his eyes against the breeze from the fan, music reeling him in without him realizing he was leaning in the direction of the couch until his shoulder bumped the cushion. He started and turned to look at the Swede, jumping again when he was met with a single blue eye cracked open to observe him.

"Oh! Sorries, I…" he trailed off as his mouth went dry. He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, it was just reflexive.

The eye looked him up and down, scrutiny making him wriggle, before it closed again. This close he could see the perspiration glistening at the other man's temple, a thin sheen on his upper lip as well. He had pretty lips when they weren't twisted into a judgemental sneer, Toki thought, blanching and looking away as soon as the notion crossed his mind. His pulse hammered in his aching, dehydrated joints.

"You smells like throw ups."

The drawl brought his attention back to the couch again, coming face to face with the very sneer he'd just been remembering. He felt his shoulders rising towards his ears in an embarrassed shrug.

"Dat probably cuz I dids a lot of frow ups…"

Skwisgaar's disdainful expression transformed into one of amused pity. "Ja well. Dat why you shouldsn't do shots wif Pickle."

Nodding, Toki pushed away the remembered smell of dark, spiced liquor before it could make him ill. He'd only just started drinking when he joined the band a few months ago and his tolerance was measley in comparison to their drummer's, but he'd jumped at the opportunity to pal around with them. Now he was learning the price.

Scattered memories of last night stirred his brain like a dirty spoon, and he cast his eyes around for something to distract him from the spins. His gaze landed on the walkman balanced on Skwisgaar's ribcage.

"What ams you listenings to?"

Skwisgaar followed his eyes, considering the cassette player for a moment before passing the headset over with a wordless shrug. Their fingers grazed and Toki felt another strange flutter behind his sternum. Had those drinks been spiked?

He placed the headphones over his ears, head immediately filled with the soulful vocals and groovy bassline. An irrepressible grin took over the bottom half of his face as he bobbed his head to the beat. Toki returned his focus to Skwisgaar's face and immediately all the breath left his lungs.

The blonde mirrored his smile, nodding as if they shared a secret. "Right? It's good stuffs."

He groped for anything to say, mind fuzzed under the ice blue spotlight of the Swede's gaze. "Ja...nots what I expecteds but...ja. Good. G-good...it good sounds." He winced.

A straw-colored eyebrow rose towards Skwisgaar's hairline and the smile turned to a crooked smirk. He shook his head, then picked up the tapdeck and passed it over to Toki as well.

"Here. You cans listens for a while, just don'ts kill deh batteries. I'm fuckin' hungovers as shit, I'm gonna takes a nap. Wakes me up for prackstice, okej?"

He swung his feet from the table to the couch and scooted down into a more comfortable position, white shirt riding up as he shifted and exposing a torso almost as pale as the material. Toki stared at the creamy patch of skin, the last bony ribs prominent above the hip poking over the top of white denim. He checked to make sure the fan hadn't died, face burning worse than ever.

In typical fashion, Skwisgaar was snoring quietly within minutes, leaving Toki alone with his suddenly jumbled thoughts, music still pulsing in his ears. His eyes travelled the long line of the other man's body to his face, tranquil in slumber. Skwisgaar's pale eyelashes glowed bronze against high cheekbones, catching the afternoon sun streaming through the open window. Toki's hand moved of its own volition towards the hollow of Skwisgaar's cheek before he snatched it away, forcing it and his gaze down to his lap where the walkman lay. He had to still be drunk.

Holding the tape deck reverently, he noticed the spindly S.S. marked on the corner in black sharpie. He traced the letters with the pad of his thumb, grin returning as the song continued in his ears, saxophone solo accompanying the flock of butterflies blooming in his belly. As the track faded out and the next began, Toki leaned back to lay on the grungy carpet, clutching the walkman to his chest. A blonde curl cascaded over the cushion as Skwisgaar rolled onto his side, and Toki held up a hand, letting the lock pool in his palm for a moment before slapping the heels of both hands against his eyes.

"Oh noes…" he giggled ruefully.

His life had changed drastically in the last few months; he had a home, he had friends, he had a band. And now? He had a complication of a different sort.

But the heat and his hangover were suddenly much less distracting.

#toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #skwistok #dethklok #metalocalypse #brainrot #and now back to my regular writing playlists #...maybe

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

clairvoyant. (m) part seven.

masterlist.

pairing: taehyung x reader (briefly) jungkook x reader

word count: 15k+ damn my bad

warnings: nsfw, spanking, dirty talk, unprotected sex (dont do this) but otherwise pretty tame at the end

authors note: i know i said this would go up monday but im clearly a liar i stayed up late last night writing this and it’s partially edited so if something looks fucked up dont come for me :( ill edit it later i just wanted to get it up lmfao im thinking another chapter left, maybe 2 anyways lmk what u think

Its Monday afternoon and you’re sat at your desk at work, your fingers mindlessly tapping on your mousepad as you retouch a portrait on your desktop. To be honest, you weren’t really paying it any attention, your mind kept drifting over to the text Jungkook had sent you the other night while he was drunk. Sure he had asked you to help him get his dick wet and a part of you knows he meant help as in_ help me find someone new_ but the perverted side of you hoped he meant help as in let me fuck you.

“Okay, unless you’re trying to make her skin look like plastic you need to ease off.”

Your hands jump at Yoongi’s voice and you realize the monstrosity you created on the models face, wincing as you delete the layer entirely to start over.

“Oops, thanks.” Yoongi just laughs, resting his arm on your shoulder and slouching over your seated frame as you resume editing with a slightly clearer head.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” He had been watching you during your entire shift together, today was an easier day, only slight organizing and retouching being the things on the to-do list but you had been very spacey. You were misnaming files and not being able to find them on the desktop, forgetting basic commands on photoshop that were second nature to you and you had mistakenly put coffee grounds instead of instant coffee in Yoongis morning cup and hadn’t realized.

Your hand came up to scratch your temple as you thought back to yesterday, waking up at three in the afternoon hungover as fuck in Jimin’s bedroom. Both of you had managed to go to sleep in the same exact clothes you went out in and your body was stiff which lead you to believe whatever sleeping position you chose had been very unfortunate.

Both of your phones had died in the middle of the night since the pair of you had been way to drunk to even think of plugging them in and when Jimin finally waltzed in from the bathroom, his hair damp from the shower, he suggested going out to eat so you let your phone remain dead in your pocket as you went about your day. You were blissfully unaware of Jungkook’s text sitting pretty in your inbox.

In turn Jungkook was sat in his own bed, a massive headache pounding so hard he swore his eyes were vibrating from the force. He remembered the text, hell he remembered jacking off in the shower before sending said text. So when he was finally able to sit up without wanting to vomit he was expecting his phone to have a notification from you, your typical response backed with a handful of suggestive emojis because you knew it made him blush.

But when there was nothing he felt his eyebrows furrow together, his finger locking his phone and tossing it beside him in bed as he lay back down. Had he crossed a line? His message was tame enough to leave it open to interpretation but Jungkook knew how he meant it when he sent it, he may have been high off his orgasm but he knew.

He continued to lay in bed for the majority of the day, only leaving to go to the cafeteria with Taehyung once he finally awoke, equally as hungover. He ate as much as he could stomach, not accustomed to hangovers that left his stomach feeling queasy. Unlike you who was currently stuffing as many breadsticks in your mouth as you could in the restaurant you and Jimin occupied, only leaving once your stomach was at capacity. You didn’t get a chance to see Jungkook’s text until eight o’clock that night and when you did see it your mind first went to sex. Jungkook was asking you for sex.

Sort of.

Slapping perverted thoughts from your head you responded with a simple of course i’ll help you. Leaving it at that, you knew he had sent you the first text while wasted so you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Those cursed perverted thoughts haunted your dreams though, images of you riding a shy Jungkook on your bed until he came noisily playing over and over and over you were surprised you hadn’t woken up with your underwear covered in remnants of an orgasm.

You hadn’t slept well at all.

You tell Yoongi this with a tight lipped smile and he nods sympathetically, “What are you doing after this?”

Looking at the clock you see there is twenty minutes left before the end of your shift, Taehyung had already messaged you earlier in the day asking to hang out and whether that meant actually hanging out or hanging out you weren’t sure but either way was fine with you. You needed a distraction to help you stop seeing the image of Jungkook cumming replaying in your mind.

“I’m seeing Tae.”

You don’t look up to see Yoongi’s reaction, not wanting to see any facial expression of judgment when you mention Taehyung’s name. Thankfully he only hums in response, watching you save your current file and start to shut down the computer and going to his own workstation to start doing the same.

When the time comes to leave you say your goodbyes, Yoongi getting into an uber to head to Jimin’s, telling you if you wanted to join them after you were done with Taehyung you were more than welcome. You hug him and tell him you’ll think about it before hopping onto the bus and heading back to campus.

The weather was getting colder in the day, its nearing the end of the first week of October and the fallen leaves decorating the sidewalks made that obvious. Once you hop off on campus you take note of the flyers plastered on bulletin boards, big posters taped on the sides of the buildings to announce the various Halloween themed events going on and you grin at all the activities that you love. This was always your favorite time of year.

As you trek your way into the boys dorm you greet Baekhyun at the front desk before entering the elevator with your phone in your hand. Your eyes are downcast as you scroll through your campus portal, skimming through the various assignments you had due this month and starting to feel the small tingles of stress creep up on you.

The elevator dings and you step out, your fingers tapping on an assignment due later tonight. Your eyes are glued to your device so you don’t notice Jungkook stood a few feet away, frozen in spot as he sees you. It’s not until you’re about to run into him that his shadow snaps you out of your daze, your eyes flicking up, “Oh, Jungkook!” You throw him a charming smile as you wrap your arms around him in greeting.

Jungkook relaxes when he feels your embrace, the nerves he’s felt since sending you that text vanish, his own arms wrapping around your body with a gentle squeeze. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

In retrospect he knows what you’re doing here but he needs to hear you say it. He needs to remind himself that you’re not here to see him to fulfill any sick desires he has.

You pull back still smiling, slipping your phone into your back pocket to give him your full attention. “Taehyung text me wanting to hang out so,” you spread your arms out widely, “here I am.”

He can only grin at that, of course you weren’t here to see him. You were here to see Taehyung. The man you fucked. Constantly. Not him.

You take note of his appearance, a giant black hoodie swallowing his frame and his school bag draped over his shoulder, “Are you heading out somewhere?” You speak again when he says nothing in response.

“Yeah, just to a study group at the library.” His eyes give you another once over, he wants to keep talking to you but it’s clear you have other things to get to, “I don’t want you to keep Tae waiting so I’ll be off.” He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie with a small smile and steps around you awkwardly.

You can only mutter out a small okay because he’s acting a little strange but thats typically how Jungkook acts. He’s relatively shy, only speaking when spoken to and whenever he has bouts of confidence where he jokes and laughs and says things you’d never imagine him saying it only lasts for a moment before he’s back to shy Jungkook.

You wave at him and continue walking down the hallway to Taehyung’s room. Jungkook manages to take two steps towards the elevator before stopping and turning back around, “Y/N!” He shouts, flinching a little at his own voice and cringing when he sees you jump for a second, turning around with a curious face. “Do you think we could hang out soon? Like…” he rummages in his brain as he thinks of something else to say, “maybe after all our classes tomorrow?”

You think for a moment, you have a few classes after the creative writing class you share with him and another work shift right after so that won’t work. “I can’t tomorrow but after classes on Friday I’m free.” Jungkook doesn’t even think about his schedule, shouting out that Friday works for him as well and now your beaming smile is back and Jungkook can feel his stupid heart skip a beat at the sight.

Now he can finally leave in peace, a small pep in his step as he enters the elevator but that doesn’t stop him from aggressively jabbing his finger against the close door button so he doesn’t have to see you walk into Tae’s room.

Luckily the week passes by quickly, Jungkook had nerves bubbling up in his stomach the entire time. It wasn’t like he had never hung out with you one on one, you guys usually hung out during the free period you had after your shared class but it was something that was sort of routine. This time he had explicitly asked to hang out, he wasn’t sure why that felt so different but it did so as his professor recites his final sentences Jungkook is totally zoned out, only coming back when he hears he’s dismissed. And then hes shooting up out of his seat, throwing his backpack over his shoulders and speed walking out of the building and onto the quad.

He passes the stupid cafe and ducks his head, walking even faster to avoid the possibility of Jisoo spotting him through the giant windows. When he feels he can no longer be spotted he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing and his pace slowing down. That gross feeling he had in his chest after Jisoo had slammed the door in his face hadn’t gone away, he still felt like he had done something horrible even though he knows he hadn’t but the small glares Jisoo would send him whenever she would spot him on campus just made that feeling linger.

He was counting down the days she would graduate, or at least until she’d set her eyes on someone else because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. She hadn’t resorted to shouting things at him or anything too out of pocket but it was clear to Jungkook that she was telling her circle of friends that he had done something despicable and they were telling their friends. The whispers and small huddling that would happen when he would pass them on campus or in the rare occurrence that they shared a class made that obvious. He hated it.

Once he finally makes it into the girl’s dorm Joy greets him with a smile and he tries his best to return it. Letting her simple question erase the worries in his mind, “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

He grabs his id back from her and looks up with a nod, that was actually what he was going to suggest the two of you do. He had seen the abundance of posters around campus advertising the event and it sounded like fun. “Yeah actually, I’ve never been.”

Joy smiles with a clap of her hands, knowing it’s his first year at this school, “It’s a good time, lots of snacks and someone always finds a way to sneak booze in. You guys will like it.” She refers to you when she says that, already knowing thats who Jungkook was here to see. Jungkook can feel someone behind him so he shuffles away to let the person sign in, waving at Joy as he makes his way up to your room.

The hallways of your floor are covered in fake spiderwebs, skeletons draped over some girl’s doors while others had plastered colored paper and drawn up their own version of spooky designs that reminded him of his years in elementary school. It was cute and honestly the boy’s dorms could take some notes because the only decoration they currently had was a skeleton sitting on one of the toilets in the bathroom.

As he stands in front of your door he takes note of the white board you and Wendy have hung up and he laughs softly when he sees whats written on it. In red marker it says *dracula voice* we want to suck your blood with some poorly drawn fangs underneath it and in the corner beside it the word dick is written with an obnoxious arrow coming up to point at the word blood to replace it.

His knuckles knock on your room door, hearing shuffling from behind it and some laughter before it’s thrown open and you’re greeting him with a smile, “Hey Jungkook.” Your lips shimmer back thanks to the clear lipgloss you’re currently wearing and his eyes zero in on them.

“Hey.” He mumbles out and you catch his eyes giving you a once over, finally making eye contact when you step to the side to let him in. He steps into the room and notices that you and your roommate must really love this holiday because you both have decked it out in halloween decorations. There’s a giant spiderweb rug in the center of the floor between your beds and a string of bat fairy lights hung behind your beds where you pinned more polaroids onto it. Theres a soft orange glow that fills the room and he notices you two have even gone as far as sticking led tape to the ceiling for the ambiance.

“Love the commitment.”

You chuckle, pointing over to your roommate with a smile, “She’s a slut for halloween and so am I so we had to. It’s not fully finished yet, we gotta grab some more stuff don’t we?”

When he looks over at Wendy’s side he spots her sat on her bed as she ties her shoes, “You bet your ass we do, I’m thinking we need different curtains or maybe a full on skeleton like Yeri has hung on her door.”

Jungkook can’t imagine how much more effort you two could put into your room but the determination set on Wendy’s face shows that she’s not joking. “Alright I’m off to go be a slave to the systems of education, pray I make it through this four hour lecture.” You laugh and clasp your hands in faux prayer, laughing harder when she rolls her eyes at you with a smile, telling you and Jungkook goodbye and dragging her feet like a child as she leaves.

“What did you wanna do today?” You ask him as you go back to your mirror to finish fixing your hair up. Jungkook sets his bag on the floor beside your bed, rolling his shoulders as he sits on it and shuffles backwards until he feels the cool of the wall against his back.

“There’s that rooftop bonfire happening later on, I was thinking maybe we could go to that?”

Your face perks up when he mentions that, immediately saying it was a good idea. That yearly bonfire was always the best, last year they had managed to bring up a giant blow up projector and played some classic halloween movies while everyone sat around the bonfire and made s’mores. Jin had snuck in a few flasks full of vodka so you and your group had been nice and drunk, bundled up in blankets while Hocus Pocus played.

“That actually sounds perfect, did you wanna head down to the store to grab some stuff?” Your attention was back on the mirror, your fingers coming to wipe at the corners of your mouth to fix any smudges of your gloss so Jungkook felt like he could stare at you and not get caught. You had your hair in messy waves, one side tucked behind your ear as you leaned forward and the cropped grey crewneck you had on wasn’t going to do much to protect you from the cold but it was obvious the outfit was for purely aesthetic purposes.

“Sure, lets go.”

The both of you head back out onto campus, two reusable bags in your hand to help you carry whatever you decide to buy. The bonfire usually had enough snacks for everyone but it was always good to go out and buy stuff you knew you liked as a safety net. The walk was nice, the sun had finally set, the last remaining hues of purple peeking away behind the buildings, allowing the floor lights to illuminate the path you were walking on.

Jungkook seemed to be out of his usual shy shell, his hands flailing around as he talked to you about the project he was working on in his intro to ceramics class. He swore he had no talent in it and was only taking it since he needed the units the class came with but you found it hard to believe since the photos he would post online said otherwise.

“You’re so full of shit.”

His mouth dropped open, his arms freezing in the position they were currently in as he tried to show you the motions of making a mug, “I swear. I’m gonna make you a mug and it’s gonna be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen and you’re gonna have to love it because you doubted me.”

That just makes you laugh and he smiles down at you, “I’d love that, make it extra big too. Big enough so I can pour two cups of coffee in it and I’ll treasure it forever, no matter how ugly it is.”

He nods in thought, his lips pursed together because he was definitely gonna do that now. He really wasn’t the worst at ceramics but now he was determined to make you a half decent mug to drink your morning coffee. “Deal, give me a week.” He pulled the door open for the store and let you slip in first, the bells dinging up ahead to notify the worker of your presence.

You went for the chips, stuffing two bags of spicy tteokbokki chips into your bag as your first choice. Jungkook roams over to the sweets, grabbing a few of the chocopie for himself, calling your name out as he holds one up and when you nod he grabs a few more for you as well. It takes you both a few minutes to raid the shelves, huddling in a corner with the bag pulled apart to inspect the damage, “Is this enough?”

Jungkook hums as his eyes scan the contents, spicy chips, seaweed crisps, chocopies, some sausages, two small containers of banana milk for himself and a few cans of sparkling soju crammed at the bottom for you two to conceal. This seemed like enough, and you kept saying there would be more options once you got there so he didn’t think you should load up on too much. “Yeah, I think we’re good.”

Satisfied, you pay for your goods and make your way back to your building where the event would take place. You hop into the elevator and click the very top floor, he could see your big smile in the reflection, your feet tapping excitedly and he feels a smile spreading on his own face, happy that he chose an activity that made you this giddy.

When the doors open to the roof you step out onto the hallway and walk up three steps through the doors that lead to roof access. Jungkook had no idea either of the dorm buildings even had roof access so he’s amazed at that fact alone. The entire perimeter is blocked up by a cement border to prevent anyone from falling off, a plethora of plants covering it up to make it look more pleasing to the eye. Right in the middle of it all was the bonfire, thin and long and already lit up with people sat on the surrounding couch.

Besides that were a handful of bean bags and comfy chairs in case there wasn’t enough seating on the couch and if that wasn’t enough either there was a giant space open up in front of the blow up projector for anyone to lay a comfy blanket down to chill.

The snack and beverage table was placed to the left which was where you were currently dragging Jungkook to. You pulled out a few of the treats you had bought to leave them for anyone to enjoy and Jungkook couldn’t resist grabbing a piece of chocolate that was meant for the s’mores, letting the candy melt in his mouth as his eyes roamed the place some more.

“Hey, isn’t that Jimin?” He spoke slowly, not wanting the melted candy to drool out of his mouth. You were munching on a cinnamon cracker, your head turning to where he was pointing and low and behold it was Jimin. He was currently sat on the grey couch in front of the fire right next to a girl you recognized as Chaeyoung, she was holding a marshmallow on top of the fire, laughing as Jimin surely teased her for burning it.

“Yeah it is.” You smiled to yourself, seeing your best friend behaving uncharacteristically flirty, accepting a bite of the slightly burnt marshmallow smushed between the chocolate and crackers in Chaeyoung’s hands, licking his lips and plucking the snack out of her grasp to feed her the rest of it.

Jungkook walked towards them, seeing a few empty spots to their left on the smaller couch by the fire, he noticed the metal basket by the couch containing blankets so he snagged one out before he took a seat, handing it to you when you sat beside him.

“Y/N, Jungkook!” Jimin notices you two the second you sit down, popping the tip of his finger into his mouth to lick away the sticky residue from it.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be here.” You tease him, setting your bag in front of you and Jungkook and draping the blanket over the both of your laps for some added warmth.

“I wasn’t going to but this one,” he drapes his arm over Chaeyoung and she blushes at his display of affection, covering up a side of her face, “convinced me to come. Something about them playing The Lost Boys.”

She looked up at him and smiled, “It’s my all time favorite movie, I can’t believe you’ve never seen it.” Jimin just shrugs, a teasing smirk on his face and you wanna scream at how cute hes acting but you really don’t want to embarrass him. Park Jimim was not one for dates or romantics so seeing him on what could arguably be described as a date blind sided you.

“Oh, I’m Chaeyoung by the way.” She leans out of his embrace and reaches over with an extended hand. You lean over Jungkook to reach it, a giggly handshake being exchanged between you two, “Y/N. You’re a third year right? Political science major?”

“Yes, I am! I saw your photography exhibit by the way, super amazing.” Your hands come up to cup your cheeks at her compliment, suddenly feeling like you two are drunk strangers at a bar ready to spit compliment after compliment at each other.

“And you’re Jungkook right?” She speaks again, sitting back in her seat as she stares at him with an unreadable expression and you can feel Jungkook tense up slightly at being recognized because how the fuck would a third year know who he was. He wasn’t a social butterfly at all, he only knew you and your group and his other small group of friends that he studied with.

“Oh, yeah I am.” Jungkook reaches his own hand out to greet her and she does the same. Pulling her hand back after a moment and crossing her leg over the other in thought, “Weren’t you just dating Jisoo?”

There it is. Of course thats how she would know who he was. And that only proved his suspicion that Jisoo was spreading his name around.

She had a defensive cast over her gaze, her eyes boring into Jungkook to analyze him. It clicked instantly that Chaeyoung and Jisoo were best friends so theres no doubt that right now Chaeyoung is ready to chew Jungkook out for being what she thinks is a dirtbag.

You can see how wide Jungkooks eyes get at her question, readjusting himself on the couch while his mind sorts through any possible answer he can give her. How could he clear his name without sounding like the jerk she thinks he currently is?

“Uhm,” his eyes drift over to her for a moment and when he sees her unwavering gaze he looks at Jimin instead, seeing him with his lips pressed in a firm line, “we just went to dinner and the art exhibit. We weren’t dating.”

Chaeyoung’s look softens at that, his answer being a stark contrast to what Jisoo had told her. She had said Jungkook had made her his girlfriend and went on this amazing date and when she didn’t put out he told her they weren’t dating.

Jungkook continues to ramble, thinking that answer doesn’t satisfy her, “Jisoo’s a sweet girl, don’t get me wrong. We just weren’t compatible so it was best if we…moved on?”

Your hand comes up to pat his thigh on top of the blanket, comforting him slightly because you can see how nervous he got. His own hand comes down on top of yours, fingers gently wrapping around it and giving it a squeeze.

“Totally fair,” Chaeyoung finally speaks, “just wanted to make sure you didn’t dump my friend and quickly moved on with Y/N.” Her eyes flicker over to your hands and then up to you with a smile. Jimin cleared his throat beside her, his own hands coming up to rub together to try to clear any awkward tension.

“Okay,” he starts, eyes coming down to look at the plastic bag set by your feet, “please tell me you brought any sort of alcohol.”

You lift your hand off Jungkook’s thigh, leaning forward to rummage through the bottom of your bag and pulling out colorful cans of soju. You wave two of them in your hands in offering, tossing them both to Jimin when he cheers obnoxiously, pulling out another two for you and Jungkook to enjoy.

The four of you crack open the cans, bringing them together in cheers to prepare to down the entire thing as fast as you could before anyone could possibly rat you out. You manage half of it before having to pull back, the carbonation in the drink burning your nose and throat more than the soju in it, “Fuck, why did you get these?” Jimin coughs, fingers coming up to rub at his nose.

“They look like soda cans, I was trying to be inconspicuous.” Jungkook laughs at your pained expression, setting his drink on the floor to get up and grab some of the snacks to make s’mores.

Chaeyoung raises her finished can in the air in victory, licking her lips with a slight grimace, “Done!” She crumples up the can for dramatic effect, you and Jimin staring at her in shock and then looking at each other to see who could finish the rest of their drink faster.

Jimin manages three more gulps until he pulls back again, “Nope,” he coughs, letting out a burp as he pounds onto his chest, “can’t do it.” You finish your own can, tossing it into the second reusable bag you brought thats not being occupied. Chaeyoung jokingly calls Jimin a baby, taking his own can to finish off herself.

When Jungkook returns with his snacks & two metal skewers they fall into their own conversation and Jungkook is thankful because even though Chaeyoung seems okay with him he still feels like if he says the wrong thing she’ll turn and call him a fuck boy or something of that nature.

You reach for a skewer, popping a fluffy marshmallow onto the top of it and leaning forward to reach the fire. He mimics your actions, the both of you giggling when he drops his hand too low and his marshmallow burns a little too hot for a moment.

“Do you like your marshmallows well done?” He asks you as he looks at your fluffy snack hovering over the fire way too low since you were focused on staring at his, a teasing grin on his face, “‘Cause that shit is charred.”

You gasp as you pull back your now black marshmallow, frantically blowing on it when you notice its now entirely burnt and Jungkook cant help but laugh at the frown on your face. He pulls his own perfectly toasted marshmallow up towards your face to mock you, only laughing harder when you bring your own burnt one up beside it to compare them.

“I can still salvage it.” You try to convince yourself, your fingers trying to scrape and pluck away the burnt edges but Jungkook knows as well as you do that it’s beyond repair. While you focus on your failed attempt Jungkook prepares his own s’more, putting two pieces of chocolate around the gooey marshmallow and sandwiching it between the cinnamon crackers.

When he brings it up to your face with a sweet smile the frown on your face deepens at the nice motion, you take a small bite of it and let out a sound of satisfaction when the sweetness hits your tongue, “So good!”

He motions for you to finish it but you just take it from him and force feed it back to him, your hand cupping his cheek to push his lips open and its not until he lets out another laugh that you’re able to pop the rest of the treat into his mouth with no resistance. His cheeks are puffed up and he has a bit of chocolate smeared around his lips, looking absolutely adorable and you really can’t stop yourself from cupping both of his cheeks like an annoying auntie and cooing at him which only makes his cheeks warm up, his mouth coming to life to munch away to get his cheeks to deflate again.

“Cute.”

The following week goes on like normal except for the fact that now you’re slammed with work and school, barely getting a moment to see any of your friends between the chaos of it all. Jungkook has a small moment where he thinks he did something wrong since you seemed to drop off the face of the earth after the bonfire. You had both had a great time, a small buzz coursing through you from the soju and you had convinced him to cram with you on the oversized bean bags to watch the movie playing but your lack of communication even after your shared class has him slightly worried.

He’s currently sat at his desk, fingers tapping on his laptops keyboard as he tried to finish the last 300 words needed for this essay. Taehyung is sat at his own desk and it’s not until he starts to groan and furiously key smash that Jungkook stops what he’s doing to turn around and check on his roommates mental health. “You okay?”

Taehyung groans with his cheek pressed against the buttons on his keyboard, a constant string of the letter f being typed onto his own essay, “Sorry.” He apologizes when he realizes how loud he’s being, “If this is way more information than you were looking for I don’t care, but I haven’t gotten laid in over a week so I’m dying.”

Jungkook just laughs at the vulgar behavior that just comes naturally to Taehyung, until he realizes that his roommates statement of recent celibacy means he hasn’t seen you either. Taehyung lifts his head up, his fingers coming up to scratch as his faded red hair, deciding he should get to work and stop distracting his roommate with information on his personal life.

The tapping continues and Jungkook slides his phone out to send you a text to see if you were doing okay since he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t seen you recently. He sets his phone down after pressing send, letting the screen stay lit up as he goes back to his work, his eyes constantly darting back to check for any sign of life on your end.

When it vibrates against the desk he peers over to read your response, saying that work and school were ending your social life along with a photo of your current view at work being a desktop lined up with photos you were sorting through, a few textbooks to the left of it to show you trying your best to multitask.

Yoongi looks up from his own spot, peering over his computer to watch you stop whatever it is you’re doing to grab your phone the second it vibrates, small giggles leaving your body as you banter back and forth with Jungkook for the remainder of your shift. Yoongi knows you’re a sucker, he’s just waiting for you to realize it too.

It’s not until nearly a week and a half later that you have a minute to spare, your time already being occupied by Taehyung since he had begged and pleaded for you to help him with his hair dilemma. He’s determined to be Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul and desperately needs to bleach out the faded ass red form his hair while also tackling his roots.

You’re sat on his desk chair while he sits on the floor between your legs with a bowl of bleach being held in his hands. You have teeny tiny foils in his hair to focus on the red ends first, your hands coming down to dip the tint brush into the thick bleach to coat onto his hair and then securely fold up the foils. “I really hope this comes out.” You mumble out as you fold up the final piece of foil, placing the brush into the remaining bleach for later.

“Me too, that costume is the only thing holding my life together.”

He reaches over to set the bowl onto the desk beside the two of you, coming back to get comfortable again between your legs, “Whys that?”

He whips around dramatically, an exasperated look on his face, “Whys that?” He mocks, his fingers coming up to grip your thighs, “I haven’t fucked you in ages.” He whines out, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs harder. The foils on his head crinkle as he drops his face onto your stomach and you just roll your eyes at how he’s acting because it’s only been two weeks.

“You have a hand Taehyung.”

“It’s not the same!”

“Wow,” you laugh out, your hand coming up to awkwardly pat his tinfoil head, “I’ve just been overwhelmed with my current work load.” You explain your current situation, how all your professors were assigning massive projects back to back combined with the extra work at your job, it was taking its toll on you. You enjoy your classes and love your new job but you haven’t been able to catch a break lately.

“Let me help you ease your stress.” He mumbles out against the fabric of your shirt, his hands trailing up from their spot on your thighs up towards your center.

“I’m not fucking you while you have that shit in your hair.”

And just like that he deflates, his arms dropping like deadweight as he crumbles back to the floor like a child. “Fine.”

He stays in that same position, letting you pat your hand on his head as you both scrolled through your phones, only standing up after you had applied the bleach to his roots and deemed it ready to wash.

You make your way to the boys restroom, Taehyung shoving his head underneath the weak stream of water coming from the sink as you help him rinse the bleach from his hair. He stays with his head bowed forward, his eyes squeezed shut as you applied the purple toner you had mixed.

When you step away to rinse your hands he stands back up to stare at his reflection in the mirror, the skin around his hairline is red from irritation thanks to the bleach and the toner had turned a very scary shade of purple but he trusts you so he doesn’t panic.

“Just fifteen minutes max and then you’re good to go baby.” His eyes move to stare at you from the reflection, seeing you staring at him with a smile, he looks so cute with his hair balled up on top of his head, his eyes wide and curious.

“Then we can fuck?” Yup, and that cute innocent look is gone, but that tiny smile spreading on his face makes you crack, “Yes Tae, then we can fuck.”

So when the timer goes off Taehyung rips off his clothes, surely staining his shirt with the dye on his head but thats a problem for a later date, the shirt laying forgotten on the floor in the corner as he approaches the showers with his hand wrapped around your arm. “In here?” You shout out, your voice bouncing off the tiled room. It’s currently not occupied but you’re not sure how long that’s gonna last for.

“Why not? I don’t wanna wait any longer.” He shrugs, throwing open the shower curtain and letting out a loud scream when he comes face to face with that cursed skeleton everyone on his floor keeps moving around. You burst into laughter and he joins in, his hand clutching his chest to try to slow his heart beat. “Okay, that one’s occupied.” He closes the curtain and moves to the very last one instead.

You pick up his shirt and ball it up to toss it on the bench in front of the shower stall he chose. Your eyes roam the room again, seeing the coast was clear as Taehyung fidgets with the water temperature. He peeks back out to slip out of his sweats and boxers, wiggling his eyebrows as he kicks them to lay beneath the same bench his shirt was on. Your mind was made up, your hands lifting your shirt up and off of you, sliding down the comfy lounging shorts you have on and Taehyung groans when he notices you don’t have any underwear on.

“You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you?”

You kick your clothing over to join his, “Wishful thinking?” You respond with a smirk, squealing loudly when his arm wraps around your waist to drag you into the awaiting stall.

“Wash that off first!” You warn him, pushing his face away from yours. He sighs and crouches down, tilting his head back so you can help him rinse the toner out of his hair. When he’s all clean you pat his cheek, letting him stand up properly and tower over you. He’s giving you that half smirk, his body backing you up against the shower wall, his back successfully blocking the stream of the shower from you because he knows you’re really not trying to get your hair wet.

“You know, you look kinda hot with silver hair.” His eyebrows raise up at your statement, his head tilting slightly, “Kinda like-” You gasp when his fingers make contact with your waist, starting to trail them down, that teasing smirk still on his face as he waits for you to finish your sentence, “like a real life anime character.”

He hums, “Oh? Does that turn you on?”

You just nod, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip as you stared up at him. When his fingers pass your hips and dip down to part your lips his mouth opens up in fake shock, “Messy baby, you weren’t lying. You’re so wet already.”

The groan you let out hardly gets muffled by the noise of the shower but thats the last of your worries right now, your mind too focused on the feeling of his fingers gathering up your arousal, trailing up and down your slit teasingly, “I can’t help it, it’s been too long.” And he knows this, stepping even closer to lock your lips in a heated kiss, it’s been way too long.

He starts to circle his fingers around your entrance but you shake your head, your lips pulling back from his with a small gasp, “No, just fuck me please.” He rests his forehead against yours, his cock throbbing at how desperate your voice sounds. Something about how eager and hungry you always were for sex fueled him, always kept him wanting more.

“Whatever you want baby.” He plants a small kiss on your forehead as he places his hands on your waist, twirling you around and pressing your chest against the cold tile. Then theres a loud wet smack echoing from his palm connecting against your ass, another squeal being heard as a giggly but hushed sound of his name leaves your lips.

And as Jungkook stands at the sink, washing his hands after using the bathroom, he feels his heart stop. He had walked in a minute or so ago, hearing the sounds of a couple talking with the shower running and he knew they were gonna fuck because thats honestly a common occurrence but he didn’t know it was you.

The tap keeps running, his hands still stuck under it as his neck cranes to look to the far left where the shower section was. He sees the ball of clothes you two must have kicked off to the side. The white shower curtain being short enough to see the two pairs of feet in the shower and the position they were currently in made it glaringly obvious that Taehyung was pounding into you from behind and as if he needed more confirmation, you just moaned out for him to fuck you harder.

It was when another loud smack echoed out, mixed in with a grunt from Taehyung that he decided he needed to get the fuck out of there. So he did, not bothering to wipe his hands dry as he scurried away, his cheeks burning up and a mysterious feeling in his chest that he could feel spreading to the rest of his body. He never let you guys know what he had witnessed, not even when you both walked back into the room with your clothes clinging on to your still damp body.

The next time you see Jungkook is a few days later as you’re about to enter the cafe. You don’t speak to him because you spot him a few feet away, walking out of the arts building and in the direction of the schools cafeteria. It takes you a moment to even realize it’s him because his hair is no longer black and you have an inkling that Taehyung is the one that helped him with this.

You decide you’ll find him after you get your coffee and enter the shop. Instantly you spot Jisoo stood behind the cash register and she looks flustered when you make eye contact. Regardless you walk up to her and order a caramel macchiato, adding an americano to the mix since you plan on seeing Jungkook right after this anyways.

Jisoo raises her eyebrows when you order the americano, no doubt knowing its for Jungkook since thats always been his drink of choice here. “Thank you by the way.” She speaks up after you finish telling her your order.

Her comment catches you off guard, “Thank you for what?”

She scribbles on the cups before handing them off to her coworker to get started on. The cafe doesn’t currently have anyone else waiting to order so she stays at the register to chat. “For helping Jungkook with our date.”

You’re about to play stupid but she raised her hand to stop you, “Look, I know you’re the one who suggested both dates to him so thanks.” You’re stunned to silence, not really sure how you should respond but she keeps talking, “It’s just a shame isn’t it?”

“What is?” Your arms are now crossed defensively across your chest.

“That all boys want to do is get in your pants, no one likes romance anymore. I thought Jungkook was nice, goes to show all men are pigs.”

You don’t know why that irritates you as much as it does but you can’t stop yourself from snapping at her, “I’m sorry what exactly did Jungkook do to you that was so horrible?” That wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for, her eyes widening slightly at the sharp tone in your voice, “Because from what I know he took you on two very nice dates and you were the one that cornered him in your hallway, beyond ready to get into his pants without even speaking to him. Sounds like you’re the pig here Jisoo.”

Her face blanks, obviously not thinking you knew the details of the date. She was expecting to be able to spill whatever fake warning she had been telling all of her friends to stay away from Jungkook. “If he was truly as horrible as you’re making everyone believe he is he would’ve slept with you and left the second he got what he wanted.” At that moment her coworker came up with both drinks in hand and a grimace on his face at the interaction he had witnessed. You gripped them both and thanked him before walking out of there as fast as you could so you wouldn’t do something irrational.

Your face felt red, not from embarrassment but from holding in your anger. Jungkook didn’t deserve to have someone talk about him like this, he wasn’t a pig, he was the furthest from that. He was a very sweet gentleman who went out of his way to be as polite as he could. Jungkook was very much boyfriend material and it wasn’t fair that Jisoo could bad mouth him all she wanted because she was salty about being rejected.

You were marching down your campus, some of your drink was sloshing out of the opening in the lid, splashing onto your hand and burning the fuck out of it but it wasn’t processing in your mind as you entered the cafeteria and hoped Jungkook was still here.

You pause at the entryway to scan the room, it was full at this hour since most students came here after their 6pm class to catch a bite for dinner. Eyes roaming over each table you spot the new half blonde and half red hair that belongs to Jungkook, he’s sat next to two other boys all of them laughing and goofing off with their trays in front of them. And now you’re unsure if you should approach him, his back is towards you but one of his friends glances up and makes eye contact, offering you a weird smile. Jungkook notices and cranes around to see what the hell his friend is staring at, noticing you standing awkwardly with your two cups of coffee. You expect him to just give you a half assed greeting before he turns around but his smile gets bigger and he’s waving you over.

You shyly smile and make your way over, slipping between the occupied tables to sit in the spot beside Jungkook. “I uh, I saw you coming this way so I got you a coffee since you know.” You motion with your hands and he understands, he hadn’t had his favorite coffee in weeks because he had been avoiding the cafe like the plague.

“Thank you.” He accepts the cup and takes a gulp, exaggerating a moan to show how much he missed it. That makes his friends and you laugh as you mumble out a no problem, your hands cupping your own drink. At the thought of coffee he pauses, grabbing his bag and sorting through it to pull out the mug he promised you.

You gasp when he hands it over, its a slightly bumpy jumbo mug that he had glazed in black, the inside of the cup being glazed white with a small bat being put on the bottom. You flipped it over to analyze it some more, your thumb grazing over the engraving of his initials he put underneath it, “Oh my god, its perfect!”

Jungkooks friends see the way his ears redden the second he handed you the gift and they want to tease him but theyre scared of the beating they’ll get when you’re gone.

“It’s big enough for two cups.” It definitely is, it was deep and pretty wide. You would be putting it to use tomorrow when you needed a morning cup at work. Jungkook watches the way you stare at the mug like its your newest prized possession and he smiles, picking up his cup of coffee again to take a sip.

“Jisoos a bitch by the way.” You blurt out before you can help yourself and the entire table stays silent, your eyes wide in shock that you even said anything at all.

He holds the coffee cup by his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and the cutest pout on his lips, “What do you mean?”

You push your cup a little bit away from you, tugging your sweaters sleeves over your palms, “I mean she’s a bitch.” Point blank period. “When I ordered these she tried to take that opportunity to talk shit about you to me, called you a pig or something.” You fake disinterest, “So I went off on her.”

His friends holler at that, no doubt knowing what happened between him and Jisoo, one of them offers you a high five which you awkwardly accept. Jungkook just stares at you, in disbelief that Jisoo was trying to make him look bad to you of all people, but he was even more surprised that you had been so quick to defend him.

“You didn’t have to do that, but…I appreciate it.” You shrug, a small smile on your face which he reciprocates.

“Oh,” he puts the coffee down again and gestures towards his friends, “by the way, Y/N this is Mingyu and Eunwoo.” They greet you respectfully, Mingyu whispering something into Eunwoo’s ear before he nods and they both start snickering and then Jungkooks swiftly kicking one of their shins under the table, causing the cheap thing to shake.

You jump at the action and Jungkook glares at his friends before looking at you, “Sorry, weird spasm. Are you hungry?” He quickly changes the subject, desperately trying to get you away from his friends before they say some shit to embarrass him in front of you because he knows they will. They had been the ones subjected to the endless texts in the group chat where Jungkook went on mini rants that switched from trying to convince himself and his group that he did not have a crush on you to asking them for advice on how to best approach you.

At his question you realize you are in fact hungry so you get up with him and follow him to the food options, his now empty tray in hand, you grab a tray from the stack in the corner as you see what catches your eye. Jungkook reaches for the mozzarella sticks, plopping a good handful onto a plate and setting it on his tray with a smile. You copy his actions and grab another plate, putting a regular cheeseburger on it along with some fries. Since Jungkook had already had a burger before you got here he settles for a few chicken wings instead, grabbing a drink for himself and another for you when you motion that you want the same one.

“I like the hair by the way.” You finally speak when you’re both swiping your student cards.

He picks one hand up to ruffle his freshly dyed hair, the red and blonde strands falling slightly over his eyes, “Thanks, it’s for Halloween. I was just gonna spray paint it but Tae convinced me to dye it.”

Just as you figured, “Who are you going as, Todoroki?”

He nods quickly, his face showing his obvious excitement, “Yes! Thats exactly who I’m supposed to be. Have you thought of your costume yet?”

With both trays in hand you start the walk back to the table, “Yeah not as nerdy as yours and Tae’s but close enough.” You tease him, not aware of the stares Jungkooks friends were currently giving you two, “I’m dressing up as Raven from Teen Titans.”

He gulps at that, Raven’s costume wasn’t down right in your face sexy but something about you being in a tight black leotard with your legs bare and a cape covering you up has Jungkook’s weeb ass sweating.

And he didn’t have to wait long to see it since Halloween landed on the upcoming Saturday. All of you were gathered at Jimin’s apartment, all in full nerd gear with shot glasses in hand. The party was being held at one of his friends places which meant expensive booze and a nice house, a drastic change from the dirty parties at the delta fucking whatevers so needless to say you guys were all pumped.

It was currently 10:30 at night and you were about to order a few ubers to head over, your body was buzzing from the two shots you’ve taken, enough to loosen you up.

Jimin is currently dressed in full Joker attire, the new version, his blonde hair is temporarily dyed green with paste, slicked back off of his face and it kills you that hes able to rock any look. “You’re the bane of my existence.”

He has his hand wrapped around you with a smile, raising his eyebrows and making the painted red ones lift up too, “It’s not my fault I was blessed with beautiful genes.” You just roll your eyes, declining the third shot he hands you and he just shrugs and takes it instead, keeping his arm around you as he grimaces and slams the shot glass down on the counter in front of you two.

Jungkook is sat on the couch in the living room beside Yoongi who’s dressed liked Naruto and you finally realize what a giant bunch of losers you and your friends are. Namjoon is stood over by the record player that has music filling up the room, dressed up as Gudetama in a comfortable looking onesie, beside him is Jin and his girlfriend Arang who are dressed in matching pumpkin costumes looking adorable as ever. Hoseok is stood next to Taehyung by the liquor bottle a few feet away from you and Jimin, dressed like an inmate, a pair of handcuffs wrapped around one single wrist for show.

Your eyes move back to Jungkook, he’s decked out in full Todoroki gear, a blue tracksuit on with the white accents and belt, even similar boots and the damn burn on his face to finish it off. The way hes sat on the couch with his legs spread out is like an open invitation to be sat on, you always forget how buff Jungkook is but seeing his thick muscles pulling the fabric taut around his thighs is making your mouth water.

“I knew it.” Jimin whispers in your ear when he catches you staring at the younger boy.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are into him, Yoongi mentioned it to me and I noticed it a while back but I didn’t believe it.”

You trust Jimin, he’s undoubtedly your best friend but you’re not ready to admit to feelings you aren’t even sure you fully have yet so you shrug indifferently, “Honestly, I’m just admiring his juicy ass thighs.”

He peers over and stares at them as well, humming in appreciation, “Well you’re not wrong.”

Taehyung pours himself another shot, letting it overflow a bit as he watches you and Jimin staring at Jungkook. He has his Kaneki face mask partially tugged down to not interfere with his ability to get hammered so the weird grimace he sports is visible for anyone to see. He got it, Jungkook was attractive and muscular and Taehyung had offered to help dye his hair for his costume in hopes that it would land him a chick tonight so he’d back off of you but his plan seems to be backfiring on him.

Taehyung hates that he feels the jealousy blooming in him when he sees you walk over to Jungkook, offering him a shot with a grin, sitting down beside him and laughing at the way he crinkles his nose. He swears he doesn’t feel jealous because he likes you deeper than the current arrangement you both have, its just that stupid territorial mindset he never fully grew out of taking over. He was currently still sober enough which is why he was trying so hard to squish it down, thats all it was.

He knows if you turned around and decided to stop sleeping with him and moved on to Jungkook for that or even a relationship he wouldn’t fight you on it because you could do whatever you wanted but he was hoping what you two had would have lasted longer than a few months and you wouldn’t be setting your sights on his roommate of all people or at least had the decency to tell him. Its not until Hoseok swats his arm, giving him a weird glare, that he snaps him out of blatantly staring at you and Jungkook.

When the ubers finally come you all split up to make yourselves fit into them, Taehyung lucking out and getting stuck in the uber you, Jungkook, and Jimin were in, leaving you sandwiched between him and Jungkook in the back row while Jimin occupied the passengers seat. Taehyung is tense in his seat and you can feel it, his hands clenched and resting on his lap as he stares out the window, counting down the seconds until you all pull up in front of the giant house party.

“It’s my friend Taemin’s house, he’s honestly probably hammered already.” Jimin says once your whole group is gathered on the front lawn. He takes the lead and walks up the path laid out, opening the door to enter the booming house, loud house music being blasted from the giant speakers in the corners.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon speaks out, his eyes taking in how enormous the house was. The ceilings were stupid high, an expensive looking chandelier being the main focus in the current room but it was clear the home owner didn’t pay it much attention considering the shiny diamonds were currently covered in those fake cobwebs.

“How many people are even here?” Arang speaks up as you all make your way deeper into the house. The place is swarming with people, all in their own costumes and you don’t believe that Taemin even knows everyone here.

“Probably a few hundred people, a thousand if he’s fucking insane.” Jimin laughs, his hand coming up to point across the room as he finally spots Taemin in the second living room area he had. He was sat on the couch, looking pretty drunk but the second he spotted Jimin he sprung up and met him halfway in a clumsy hug.

“Thanks for coming out you guys.” He speaks up like he actually knows who you all are even though you’re all strangers, “Feel free to drink whatever you want, theres no rules just please don’t break my shit. Theres also a costume contest happening at midnight with some cash prizes.” When he finishes his little host speech he bows dramatically before someone else calls out for him and he’s gone.

You and your friends don’t need to be told twice, instantly gravitating towards the drinks to get as drunk as everyone else seemed to already be. The array of pricey liquor has you wanting to cry, you absolutely loved the rich for this reason only. The one thing you’re all good at is getting absolutely sauced so it doesn’t take long for you guys to catch up.

Little by little everyone slowly splitting up when the night progresses, there was too much going on in all the different areas of the house, along with who knows what happening in the backyard but you’re pretty sure theres a pool out there, something you would definitely be avoiding because it was freezing.

Hoseok and you end up together as you usually do, being designated party buddies. You’re stood at the back of a room thats currently having a very drunk karaoke concert going on, a very dramatic rendition of Dont Stop Believing being the song of choice and you’re both clapping your hands anc cheering along when the six foot tall Ash Ketchum goes out of his way to make his own adlibs.

You tell Hoseok you’ll be right back as you venture back out of the room to go grab another mixed drink. On your way there you spot Jungkook sat on the couch beside Namjoon, a very pretty girl stood beside him, trying her best to get his attention but he’s either not interested or completely oblivious to her advances because he brushes her off and starts a conversation with Namjoon instead. You’re pouring your drink into your cup when the girl walks away from him with a roll of her eyes, saying something to her waiting group of friends before they all make their way outside.

Just as you’re about to go over to him Taehyung pops up on your left, slinging his arm over you in the sloppy way that lets you know he’s been throwing back way more shots than you have. “Can I ask you something?” He slurs into your ear, choosing to stand in front of you, putting you between him and the counter behind you.

“Sure.” You say as you take a sip of your strong drink, your eyes looking up at him and seeing them glazed over, a hint of uncertainty in them.

He looks down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you, the three tequila shots he just took minutes ago doing nothing to stop him from squishing down his emotions now, “Are you fucking Jungkook?”

You quickly swallow the liquid in your mouth so you don’t spit it out, your face showing how absurd you think his question is, “What? No?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you, not entirely believing you because of how you two have been acting recently, he sees the way Jungkook acts whenever you text him and he knew you two had started to hang out more on your own. And he would’ve thought it was a normal hang out until Jimin had uploaded a video of the bonfire and he had seen you two making cutesy eyes at each other as you fed him a s’more.

You can see the gears turning in his head but you speak up again before he has a chance to say some stupid shit, “How drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough!” He shouts back and thats confirmation enough for you to know that whatever conversation he thinks he wants to have right now will have to wait.

“Okay you weirdo, get a grip please and back off.” His current attitude was getting on your nerves only because it’s something you’re not used to dealing with when it came to him. Even though you’re half kidding at your statement there’s still some truth to it and he hears it loud and clear, stepping back like a toddler and giving you some space. He mumbles something out about going to find Jimin but you don’t pay it any mind, just nodding along as you drink more of your concoction and go back to join Hoseok in the karaoke room again.

Another hour passes, a few minutes shy of midnight so you know the costume contest will be taking place soon. You and Hoseok have drifted away from each other, him deciding to go join the dance floor at the front of the house where as you find yourself watching an intense game of guitar hero being played. The giant flat screen lets any onlooker clearly see the battle happening and you don’t notice Jungkook beside you until he’s nudging you with his hip, a goofy smile on his face when you stumble over slightly.

“You really suit this character.” He’s standing there with his arms crossed and for one of the first times since you’ve known him he has this very confident aura coming from him. Maybe it’s because he’s had too much to drink to care or maybe it’s because he feels like he’s in his element in this dorky costume but confidence looks good on him.

“Should I just live my entire life as Todoroki then?”

His eyes are glassy from the alcohol and his cheeks are pink but he can tell you’ve had a bit more to drink than him, your tongue becoming too loose to hold anything back, “I definitely wouldn’t mind it.” When he notices your eyes raking up his body and back down, stopping at his thighs once more before looking at his eyes again, he just blushes and chooses to uncross his arms to take a sip of his drink.

He’s been noticing your constant eyeing of his thighs, having caught you staring at them at Jimin’s place earlier tonight, and now that you were drunk you were doing a worse job at trying to play it off. “Has anyone ever told you that your thighs are beautiful?” You finally address it.

Jungkook raises both of his eyebrows, looking down at himself, shifting his weight between both legs and stretching one out. “Can’t say they have.”

“Just wanna bite em…” You mumble under your breath and he chuckles, catching your words but not speaking on it. The shots are definitely seeping further into your blood because your hands are coming up and out, grabbing the meaty skin of his right thigh and he’s yelping from the shock, jumping slightly before balancing out so his drink wouldn’t spill.

You’re grinning sweetly as you give his thigh another quick squeeze and retreat back. You only hum in thought, your mind wondering what they look like under the pants he’s currently wearing. Jungkook is still too caught off guard, any words he wants to say getting stuck in his throat as he observes the room to see if anyone saw that.

The reality of what you just did slowly sinks in and he catches the switch, your eyes sharpening up and you take a very small step back, “Are none of these girls good enough for you?”

“What?”

You nervously swallow more of your drink which probably isn’t wise because look at what you had already done with the alcohol already in your system, “I promised you I’d get you laid by the end of this month and i’ve seen like four girls come up to you and you blew them off.”

That was true, he had done that all night but it had been such an automatic response that he wasn’t sure why he had, something about sleeping with a complete stranger in another strangers home felt wrong. That and the fact that he wanted to sleep with you was also getting in the way, but his inner self currently had that thought in a headlock, a very loose and slowly weakening headlock but a headlock nonetheless, so he was ignoring it.

“They didn’t even know who I’m supposed to be.” He lies as an excuse and it makes you laugh, tipping your cup up and pouring the rest of its contents down your throat.

“Is that you’re only reason?”

He nods stubbornly, sticking with his horrible excuse until it turns around and bites him in the ass. “Well I know who you’re supposed to be, so what does that mean?”

He blanks at that, really not expecting the turn this would take. You watch him, his big doe eyes only getting bigger at your words. He rolls his lips together in thought, his mind sorting through all the appropriate responses he could say. During his distraction he doesn’t notice his inner self releasing the headlock grip he had on his feelings until it’s too late and they’re spilling out into the open.

“It means I wanna fuck you.”

Yeah. That wasn’t what he wanted to say, at all, but his filter had clearly been lost a few shots back and when you don’t immediately slap him he doesn’t think he fucked up entirely.

“You wanna fuck me?” You repeat slowly, stepping closer to him. You had a feeling he did based on that drunk text he had sent you but you had to make sure he really wanted to and this wasn’t just a nervous response. Jimin and Yoongi were right in their observations of both of you, you wanted to sleep with him, you have ever since that night in your room and the realistic dreams involving him haven’t stopped so maybe once you sleep with him everything will mellow out in your brain.

This isn’t a crush, you try to convince yourself, this is just your hormones talking. It’s not your fault that imaginary Jungkook would moan such sweet praises in your ear while you dreamed, thats why you were stuck wearing i’m horny for jungkook glasses, and once you slept with each other all would be fine.

His eyes look around, he could see Tae and Jimin stood near the kitchen, Tae doubling over in laughter at something being said and when you see who he’s looking up it only annoys you. Taehyung didn’t have this claim on you and you knew Jungkook was just worried because he didn’t fully believe no feelings were involved between you and Tae but you were sick of people thinking you belonged to him.

You raise your hand up to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you, “I asked you a question Jungkook.”

He looks back over to you, seeing your own eyes staring up at him and he finds himself nodding his head. Sure you both aren’t sober at all and will he be embarrassed about this once he is, probably, but he knows he’ll regret not being completely honest tomorrow morning if he says no.

At his confirmation you smile, you had spotted the staircase nearby, knowing there would be rooms you two could occupy but when you start to tug him in the direction of it he resists.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel right using someone’s room to do this.” Jungkook wasn’t a virgin so you knew he wasn’t wanting this to be a certain way for his first time but he’d only ever been intimate with one person and it hadn’t gone the way he wanted at all so if he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with you in this house it was fine by you.

“Do you want to go back to mine then?” The urgency that usually came with party hook ups was missing, you didn’t feel rushed to get in a room and tear his clothes off without speaking to each other, he wasn’t just a hook up.

When he nods his head you don’t think twice to pull him in the direction towards the front door, a loud tapping noise stopping you both in your tracks. Everyone stops talking, turning towards the source of the noise and seeing Taemin stood on top of his coffee table with a microphone in hand, his finger tapping the top of it to check it.

“Okay, fuck it works dude!” Jimin shouted out, everyones hands coming up to cover their ears when Taemin just laughs loudly into the mic.

It was time for the costume contest and as much as you wouldn’t mind seeing who won or even potentially winning the cash prize yourself, the thought of finally getting to sleep with Jungkook wins. You look back at him, your eyes asking him if he wants to wait but he shakes his head, his fingers giving your palm another squeeze. You choose not to notify your friends that you were leaving, they were all drunk enough and were already planning on sleeping at Jimin’s after this anyways so you had a few hours before they even noticed you had both disappeared.

Jungkook feels oddly calm, the nerves that had overtaken him when he was in this position the very first time not coming up, even the small sense of uncertainty he felt when it came to Jisoo was gone and he likes it. He likes the feel of your hand in his as you wait for the uber. He likes how you rest your clasped hands on your thigh, your thumb rubbing the back of his palm soothingly and when you finally manage to sneak into your building he likes the way you push him against the elevator wall, your lips slotting between his in the first sign of urgency.

When you lick your way into his mouth he tastes the strong tang of tequila that he’s sure you can taste from him as well but he doesn’t mind it. His hands coming up to wrap around your waist, the thin material of your leotard letting you feel his touch as his fingers dig into your waist to pull you closer to him. You’re on your tip toes and he’s leaning over to match your height, the sound of the elevator ding making you both pull apart with heavy sighs.

You twirl back around, your head peaking out of the elevator to make sure the coast was clear since you technically weren’t allowed to have Jungkook over at this time. Once you saw the hallway was clear you wrapped your hand over his wrist, tugging him to your door in a haste to get out of the open. You make it a few feet when the sound of the bathroom door opening makes you both freeze, Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut as he waits for someone to start to scold you both. You’re waiting for it too, especially when you turn around and spot Jihyo, your RA, standing in the middle of the hallway right in front of the bathroom door.

She’s currently rubbing her eyes, tipsy and in a revealing Sailor Mars costume. When she spots you and Jungkook looking just as tipsy and your lips swollen she just sighs, throwing her head back dramatically, “Go, hurry up and get in your room. I didn’t see anything.” You throw her a thankful look and she just shields her eyes as she makes her way back into her room, you don’t waste anymore time as you slide your key card out of your bra and unlock your room.

“Wait, your roommate.” Jungkook whispers, just now realizing that she existed. He’s stood right on the door’s threshold, refusing to come in until you literally force him, your hand tugging him in. His hands grasp your shoulders to not knock you over from the force of your pull, he finally gets a chance to look around when you flick your light on and he notices Wendy is no where to be found.

“She’s went out of town for Halloween, we’re fine, now please kiss me.” The door shuts behind Jungkook, that answer satisfies him, his hands moving off your shoulders to cup your face and bring you in for another kiss. Your mind feels like its floating as he starts to walk, leading you backwards towards your bed.

Your hands slide up his chest as you make your way to your bed, your fingers clasping the zipper of his costume and tugging it down, revealing his bare skin. He had decided not to wear anything underneath his tracksuit, he always got hot and sweaty when he was drunk so he didn’t want to add more layers than necessary, and luckily it worked in his favor.

Your fingertips leave a hot trail on his skin as you work on getting this article of clothing off of him, his hands coming away from your face as you push the sleeves down his arms, the material falling onto the floor in a heap. His lips never part from yours, his actions getting more confident, his kisses getting more urgent because he can’t seem to get enough of you.

His hands trail up to unclasp the cape around your shoulders, letting the crushed velvet garment join his top on the floor, and then its a race of getting the rest of your clothing off. You pull back from him your lips smacking together one final time when you step back, your eyes finally getting to see him shirtless for the first time.

Is he for real? Was he sculpted by the fucking gods themselves because this wasn’t fair. You always knew Jungkook worked out like a madman but you never expected him to look like this. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, the muscles in his arms rippling as he fidgeted with the stupid belt he had on and when he finally got it off and was able to slide out of his boots and pants your wishes were granted in the form of his thighs.

You had forgotten about sliding out of your leotard and belt, your boots were kicked off to the side but when his thick thighs were exposed you dropped to the floor in front of him. Jungkook wasn’t expecting that, part of him thought you might of passed out or something from how suddenly you collapsed but when your hand come up to trail his thighs he knows you’re fine.

“Are you joking?” You mumble out, your mind acting on it’s own accord, you press open mouth kisses on his thighs, your fingers giving them small squeeze as you kiss your way up to the band of his briefs.

Jungkook had fantasized about this so many times put now that you were sitting right in front of him on your knees, your mouth kissing his dick over the fabric of his briefs, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from blowing his load the second you put it in your mouth.

“Have you ever had a blowjob Kookie?” The nickname is new but he likes it, especially when he sees how you look at him when you say it, your eyes widening slightly when he shakes his head. No he’s never had a blowjob and as much as he wants to experience his first one from you he won’t ever let himself live it down if he cums before he gets a chance to fuck you.

“Can I be honest?” He mumbles out as your fingers slip underneath the band of his briefs, beginning to tug it down slowly, his legs stepping out of the material as it bunches around his ankles.

His cock springs out without the restraint of his briefs and your mouth salivates at the sight of it. Of course Jeon Jungkook would have a beautiful big dick, its veiny with a slight upward curve, the girth of it making you bite your lip in anticipation of it stretching you open. Your eyes move back up to him and you smile gently, “Yeah of course.”

He moves his own hands to cover your smaller ones, his fingers wrapping around your fingertips to lift them off his skin. “Can we…do that next time,” it slips out before he can catch it, indication of this happening again and you take note of it, the lust clouding your mind not being against that happening, “I just really wanna fuck you.” He confesses, his body bending over, his arms hooking under your arms to scoop you up from the floor with ease.

“Yeah,” you breathe out as he stands you up, his hands cupping your cheeks with care, his thumb tracing your skin as he stares down at you, “we can do that next time.”

You reach out and let your hands touch his waist, the feel of his bare skin making you realize he’s the only one naked right now. You turn him around so his back is facing your bed, your hands gently pushing him back onto it.

He catches himself with his palms, sliding back onto your bed until he’s laying against the pillows you have set up. He watches as you reach back to unclasp the ruby belt you have, letting it fall with a clank as you move on to unbutton the top of your leotard, slipping the skin tight fabric off of your body.

Jungkook can feel his dick twitch against his abs at the sight of you, you crawl onto the bed, your fingers trailing up his thighs as you straddle him in a similar way that brings back memories of a few weeks ago. The feeling of you sat on top of him with no barrier is something he never thought he’d experience and when he feels the slick glide of you grinding down on his cock his stomach caves in, a groan leaving his lips. His fingers come up to grip your hips, your own hands wrapping around his neck as you smile down on him.

“Feel good?” You ask him, a tiny gasp escaping you when you repeat your actions and his cock nudges your clit.

His eyes move down to stare at the spot where you connect, seeing how shiny you’re leaving him as your arousal mixes with his precum makes his mouth drop open in awe. “Yeah, feels good.” He whispers out, his hands gripping your skin tighter to make you rut on him faster.

You can see the desperation growing on him, the shy Jungkook you were so accustomed to nowhere to be found as he rolled his hips up to meet your motions, his head dropping back into the pillows with a moan. With his neck wide open you lean forward, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, your teeth gently nipping at his skin, making his hips stutter.

Blame mistake number one on you wanting to see Jungkook fully fall apart underneath you but you’re not thinking too much when you reach down and grasp his cock, letting the tip of it nudge your entrance. You know you’re clean and on birth control and unless he’s been lying to you, you assume he should be clean as well.

His head snaps up at the new sensation, and Jungkook may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid, “Wait–“ You think he’s stopping you because you haven’t pulled out a condom so you pause, giving him a curious look but his mind is too full of want that he doesn’t even process the fact that there isn’t a condom “it’s gonna hurt you.” He wants to finger you, stretch you open and let his fingers explore your body until you falling apart.

“It’s okay, I like that.” You admit, giggling when you see his cheeks flush. You go back to nudging the tip of him into you, the feeling of it breaching your entrance has you moaning and Jungkook drops one hand off your hip to clutch your comforter instead, his fingers clenching around the fabric as your walls wrap around the tip of him.

“Fuck,” you groan out, he was big but the feeling of him stretching you out had another gush of arousal slip out of you, only aiding in letting you slide down another inch or so. Your hands come forward to rest on his stomach as you wait a moment, Jungkook can feel you clenching around the first few inches of him, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him all around.

You relax your muscles, letting the rest of him slide into you, the tip of him just shy of nudging your cervix when you’re fully sat on him. You give him a moment to adjust, waiting until his eyes open up again, “Please move.” He croaks out, his hand coming back up to your hips to get you to do anything because the feeling of you just clenching around him was killing him.

His desperation turns you on and you start to move instantly, grinding on him to let yourself get used to the size of him before you start to lift yourself up, slamming back down, the slap of your skin connecting filling up the dorm room.

As you stare down at him you have to pinch yourself because the visual of him whimpering underneath you is an exact replica of the dreams you’ve been having. A needy Jungkook kneading the flesh of your hips, rutting his own hips up to meet you, his big eyes blown out with lust and adoration in the same damn way you’ve been dreaming about and you know you’re done for.

Jungkook can say the same, the countless times he’s dreamt of you doing this to him has him thinking he’s stuck in a dream, ready to wake up to his roommate tossing a pillow at him but it never comes because you’re actually here. You’re here on top of him, riding him like it’s something you’ve always wanted. His hand trails up from your hip to grasp your bouncing boob, giving it an experimental squeeze, his thumb and index finger tweaking your nipple and enjoying the way you moan from it.

He can feel your arousal dripping down his length every time you lift up, the remnants of it pooling around the base of his cock, he can see it as his eyes are glued to the way your lips part to take his length in. He can feel you start to get tired from the constant motion, your movements slowing down slightly so he takes it upon himself to wrap his arms around you and bring you closer to his chest, successfully flipping you over underneath him.

Your hair fans out around you and you stare up at him in shock, never thinking he’d do something like that but it only lasts a minute before hes sliding back into you. His hands are by your face, caging your body underneath his as he pounds into you.

His jaw is clenched tightly when he feels you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers trying to cling onto his back from the force of his thrusts. “Do you want it harder?” He grunts out, looking down at you to see you nodding frantically, your legs wrapping around his waist to push him deeper into you.

“Please ple–“ you gasp when he slides out before rearing back into you, starting a brutal pace that you didn’t think he was capable of. “Just like that. God Jungkook.” You cry out and he feels his chest fill with pride. You were moaning out his name, he was the one making you feel this way.

You can feel him graze your bundle of nerves every time he thrusts forward, a high pitched moan leaving you and he does another experimental thrust to find the exact spot, angling his hips until you’re gasping and then he’s grinding right into it every time. Determined to get you to cum before him he keeps it up, he can feel his climax creeping in on him, you’re squeezing him so tight its almost impossible to thrust into you but he can tell you’re close when your hand comes down to rub your clit and he almost cums from that sight alone.

Seeing you squirming underneath him as your fingers worked to push yourself over the edge just made him thrust harder into you, a deep groan leaving his mouth when you gasped out, your walls clamping around him even tighter than before as you threw your head back. You had enough sense to clasp a hand over your mouth before you moaned out at as your body twitched from your orgasm, the feeling of Jungkook continuing to pound into you only making more muffled whimpers leave you from the overstimulation.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbles out, his head dropping forward to rest between your neck and shoulder as he starts to rut faster into you. Your toes are curling from the after shocks of your climax, the tingles all over your body being the cause of mistake number two, “Cum inside me Jungkook, please.”

His face lifts back up at your statement, checking to make sure you mean it and when you nod and press your lips against his for another heated kiss he doesn’t hold back. His hips rolling into yours with new found energy, your body being jostled up at his action but you don’t care when all you taste is him, your kisses swallowing the desperate whine that leave him as he nears his end. His thrusts get sloppier until he’s groaning out deeply, his hips stuttering as his cock paints your walls white. You moan again at the feeling of his warm cum inside of you, letting him roll his hips a few more times as you kiss him gently to bring him back down.

His arms fail him, his body flopping on top of you in a heap, his muscles absolutely crushing you but the way he wraps your arms underneath your waist and nuzzles into you makes you forget about your inability to breath. His face is pressed against your neck under your chin, his soft dick is still inside you and he really doesn’t want to pull it out, he’d be perfectly content with going to sleep and waking up in this position.

You keep your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers gently playing with his damp hair, “I miss your black hair.” You mumble out, breaking the silence that fell over the room.

He hums against your neck, kissing your skin gently in content when you scratch his scalp, “I’ll dye it back for you.”

You don’t know why that statement makes your heart swell but it does, your lips coming down to kiss his hair before laying back down. The both of you catch your breaths like this, Jungkook having his cheek pressed against your skin and you gently massaging his head.

He can feel the sweat on your skin start to get sticky so he decides nows a good time to pull apart, his skin peeling off of you and you’re both grimacing when he finally slides out of you, a small gush of his cum dripping out of your entrance and you squeeze your thighs shut at the feeling.

Jungkook wants to sit there and stare at his cum staining your skin but he can tell you feel icky from your face so he stands up from the bed and looks around your room, spotting your towel by your desk. He picks it up and comes back to you. His fingers gently pry open your thighs as he starts to clean you up, tossing the towel aside and motioning for you to move so you can get comfy in bed.

You shuffle around until you slide your comforter down, letting him adjust himself so you both fit comfortably. The small feelings of being tipsy are gone, your muscles completely relaxed and sleep starts to overtake you as you feel him move behind you, his arm lazily draping over you as you both start to slowly fall asleep.

“You know,” he gently speaks up, “you promised me you’d get me laid by the end of October.”

You hum in acknowledgment, and he’s smirking into your hair, “It’s technically November though so.”

You giggle softly at this, turning around in his grasp to face him, your leg slipping in between his as you get closer, “Oh how could I ever make it up to you for breaking my promise.” He lets out a fake gasp as your sarcastic response, his fingers wasting no time coming up to playfully jab at your sides, succeeded in making you squirm and laugh until his lips are kissing you again, the urgency and heat from before missing but he likes this way better.

He likes the small laughs in between kisses, the shy licks of your tongue and sighs you let out and in that moment Jungkook feels content.

Jungkook doesn’t think of whats going to happen tomorrow morning when you both wake up and the initial lust is gone. He doesn’t think of the conversation that’s gonna have to happen once the sun comes up. No he lets himself enjoy this, lets you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. He’ll worry about that when it comes.

#btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #taehyung smut #i guess?? v briefly???#new

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

cuffed, literally ~ yungblud

part one

word count: 1897

request?: yes!

@lipstickystick “Hey! I love your writing and i thought of an imagine request. I'm curious if you could write something like a follow-up of "not a rebound" where yn and dom are still only learning about each other and getting close and at one party colson handcuffs them together (as a drunken prank) and loses key. So they both had to spend the whole day together”

description: in which colson decides to take matters into his own hands yet again when it comes to dom and y/n

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing mainly

masterlist

After months of knowing each other, Dom and (Y/N) still had yet to start a relationship. They had spent lots of time together, although they claimed these were not dates. They insisted they still needed time to get to know one another before starting a relationship. Excuse after excuse after excuse.

After finishing his album, Colson decided to throw a party at his house to celebrate. Of course, he invited Dom and (Y/N) to go. He was shocked, and slightly pissed off, however, to find them standing on opposite sides of the room.

“Dude, what are you doing here and not over there with her?” he asked Dom.

Dom shrugged. “I don’t want to be that guy that crowds her when she’s trying to have fun at a party.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Colson sighed. “You’re so into her, and she’s into you, why don’t you two just make it official and call what you’re doing a relationship?”

“I’m not ready for another relationship,” Dom insisted. “Things with Ash are still fresh. I’m not ready to be hurt like that again.”

“(Y/N) is not gonna hurt you like Ash did. She’s a nice girl, when she likes someone she really likes that person. She’d never dump you for someone else like Ash did.”

Dom didn’t answer. He looked over at (Y/N), who was talking with a group of friends. He knew Colson was right, (Y/N) was not Ashley. The likeliness of (Y/N) hurting him the way Ashley had was low, but he still didn’t feel ready for another relationship yet. His heart didn’t feel like it was healed yet.

Colson sighed and downed the last of his beer.

~~~~~~

As the night went on, Dom and (Y/N) finally found their way to each other. They spent a long time just talking, eventually finding themselves sat very close to one another on Colson’s couch.

At one point, a very drunk Colson stumbled up to the two. “Hey you two! Finally together, as it should be.”

“Fuck off Kells,” (Y/N) chuckled, although she partially meant it.

He sat himself down between them, causing slight irritation in both (Y/N) and Dom. “I just think you both need to grow some balls and date cause you’d be very happy together. You both like each other so much.”

(Y/N) looked over at Dom, who awkwardly shuffled and took another sip of his drink. She sighed but tried not to make it obvious how she was feeling. She really wanted to be with Dom, but she also knew he was just out of a long relationship that left him heartbroken. She didn’t want to throw herself at him if he wasn’t ready yet, but at the same time the longer it took for Dom to even mention going out on a date, the more she was starting to think he didn’t want to be with her.

She felt Colson take hold of her hand. She looked down in time to watch him tug her arm towards Dom, taking hold of his, too. She was about to pull away, thinking that drunk Colson was about to force them to hold hands, until she felt the cold metal around her wrist.

“Colson, what the fuck?!” she snapped as Colson laughed and slid out from between them.

“This isn’t funny,” Dom said, trying to pull his hand free from the handcuffs Colson had just placed on the two of them. “Let us out man!”

“I can’t, I don’t have the key,” Colson shrugged.

“What?!” (Y/N) and Dom snapped together.

Colson shrugged as if it were nothing. “I can’t find the key. You’re both just going to have to stay in the cuffs.”

(Y/N)’s face was nearly as red as a tomato with anger. She got up from the couch, pulling Dom with her. She hissed one last profanity at Colson as she walked out the door, Dom in tow. She fished her phone from her pocket and called for a taxi to pick them up.

“I can’t believe he did this,” she huffed. “That fucking dumb fuck.”

“I’d like to try and defend him and say it’s because he’s drunk but knowing Kells he’d do this while he was sober, too,” Dom said.

“At least sober Kells wouldn’t have lost the fucking key,” (Y/N) sighed. “Let’s just go to my place, I might have a way to unlock these.”

Dom agreed, but part of him didn’t want to unlock the cuffs. Maybe it would be a way to get closer to (Y/N) and to finally ask her on a proper date.

The cab ride home was silent. The driver eyed the cuffs but chose not to say anything, which was probably the best idea. Both (Y/N) and Dom muttered a thank you as they paid and got out.

The first thing (Y/N) did when they walked into her apartment was go to her bathroom and find a bobby pin in the cabinet. Dom looked up videos and articles on how to pick locks and (Y/N) tried her best, but it didn’t work. She tried to maneuver one of her keys into the lock enough to open it, but it didn't work either.

Dom was leaning as far away as he could with the cuffs keeping them together as (Y/N) tried to pick a lock with one of her knives. “I feel really uncomfortable with my hand being that close to a sharp object that you’re using while drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” (Y/N) assured him. “Besides, if my hand slips it’ll cut my own arm first, so if I cut you, too, we’ll consider that karma.”

Dom reached for her hand and lowered the knife. “Maybe we should just call it a night. Get some sleep then go back to Kells’ place in the morning and see if he knows where the key is. He’s just being a drunk asshole tonight, he probably has it somewhere.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

To keep things less awkward, the two decided to keep their clothes on. They laid on their backs next to each other on (Y/N)’s bed. They didn’t really know what to do. They couldn’t really move all that much without tugging on each other’s arms.

“Maybe,” Dom spoke suddenly, drawing (Y/N)’s attention, “we’d both be a bit more comfortable if we...got a bit closer?”

(Y/N) felt her heart starting to race. “What...what were you thinking?”

Without saying anything else, Dom took hold of (Y/N) and pulled her close to him. They managed to cuddle together in a way that their arms weren’t all bunched up in an uncomfortable way.

“Is that okay?” Dom asked her. (Y/N) nodded, unable to speak. Her heart was racing so fast she was sure Dom could feel it. She could definitely hear his heartbeat under her ear. “Okay...well...goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” (Y/N) managed.

There was a prolonged silence where both pretended to be asleep. There was so much running through both of their minds that they just couldn’t sleep. Eventually, the tiredness hit them and they both finally drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was the first awake the next morning. She was still cuddled into Dom’s side, neither had really moved at all that night. Not like they could with their hands still cuffed together.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, smelling Dom’s cologne, which was still lingering somehow. She knew she’d have to wait for Dom to wake up, but she wasn’t exactly complaining about that. She’d love to just lie around with him all day, preferably without the cuffs though.

As if on cue, Dom started to stir. (Y/N) tried to hide her disappointment when he opened his eyes and stretched out the uncuffed arm.

“Good morning.”

His accent is so fucking cute. “Good morning, Dom.”

He picked up his phone to check the time. “It’s still early. Kells probably isn’t up yet. Probably far from it. Want breakfast?”

“Might as well,” she responded.

The first little bit of trying to cook with their hands cuffed together was very rough. They tugged at each other and knocked stuff off the counter, but they laughed the whole time. At one point Dom even purposely knocked something over so it would spill on (Y/N), causing her to throw eggshells back at him.

Eating was a lot more awkward. As they both ate with their free hands, their cuffed ones were so close. Dom felt his hand literally twitch with the desire to hold (Y/N)’s hand. (Y/N) kept looking at his, willing it to move first so she wouldn’t feel so awkward about making the first move. But it didn’t, so they stayed still.

After a few hours, they decided it was time to confront Colson. They called another taxi to take them back to Colson’s house. The ride was quiet again. (Y/N) found herself dreading being uncuffed from Dom. These past 12 hours she had been the closest to Dom she had ever been since meeting him. She wished this wouldn’t be the end of their time together.

Knowing he was probably still passed out, (Y/N) pounded on the door and rang the doorbell multiple times. Finally, a shirtless and very disheveled Colson answered the door, glaring daggers at his two friends.

“Can you two keep it down? I’m fucking hungover,” he groaned.

“Awe, poor Colson,” (Y/N) said. She grabbed his head and yelled in his ear, “Get these fucking cuffs off fuckwad!”

Colson shoved her back, rubbing his head in pain. “Jesus Christ, (Y/N)! What the fuck are you talking about? What cuffs?”

(Y/N) and Dom held up their arms to show him the cuffs he had put on the night before. Colson looked between them before laughing. “Wait, I actually did that? I was so drunk I thought I dreamed it. You couldn’t get it off?”

“If we could we wouldn’t be cuffed anymore,” Dom pointed out.

“Okay, smart ass,” Colson said. “Come in, I’ll grab the key.”

I knew he had it, (Y/N) thought, but decided not to say aloud.

The two sat back down on the same couch where this whole thing happened the night before. It felt like just minutes ago it happened, not hours. Neither (Y/N) nor Dom could believe it was that long ago, and now it was almost over.

As they waited for Colson to get the key, Dom looked at (Y/N). “I didn’t...hate this whole thing.”

(Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes, shocked by what he said. “Really?”

“Well...yeah. I would’ve rathered be uncuffed, but I liked spending the night together. And making breakfast this morning, I liked that a lot.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I liked it all, too. Maybe we can do it again, but with the cuffs off.”

Dom smile, too. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Took you two long enough,” Colson commented as he walked back in with the key. Once they were uncuffed, Dom and (Y/N) looked at each other with mischievous smiles before grabbing Colson and cuffing him to his coffee table. They laughed as he begged them to uncuff him, hiding the key and walking away.

#yungblud #yungblud imagine #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic harrison imagine #dominic harrison x reader #dom harrison #imagine #request #part two #machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

ao3

Alex knew he picked a good choice of best friend when Kyle's response to Alex being dumped was to haul him into the car and start the 11 hour drive to Las Vegas.

The whole drive was spent full of Kyle distracting him and hyping him up, stopping by a daiquiri shop on the way there and getting him the largest size. It was a little weird, but Alex found that he was endlessly grateful. He needed this.

"You were too hot for him anyway," Kyle said a few hours in, "You deserve someone who could at least be a model, but not more of a model than you, you feel me?"

"Yeah,* Alex laughed, smiling at him as he sipped his drink, "I feel you."

"But it's all good. We're going to find you a hot piece of ass to rail," Kyle declared, "Or get railed by, I don't judge."

"Jesus Christ, Kyle," Alex laughed, but he just flashed that charming smile and went on with driving.

When they arrived in Vegas, the city was already lit up for the night and Kyle got a hotel room that they didn't stay in for long. He immediately led the way to a casino and paid Alex's way. Whenever Alex tried to refuse the handouts, Kyle insisted and said it was his idea so he would pay.

They spent the next few hours getting drunk and winning little sums of money. $20 here, $5 there, nothing fancy. But Alex was having more fun with Kyle than he had in his entire relationship, so it was easy to get lost in it.

"Alex," Kyle called, catching him by the belt loop and tugging him closer, "Blow on these for good luck."

Alex felt his face flush and a few sets of eyes were on them, but he blew on the set of dice Kyle shoved in his face nonetheless. He watched him throw them onto the table afterwards and a few separate things happened that he didn't quite understand having never been the gambling type. People cheered, though, and Kyle kissed the side of his face without hesitation.

"Told you!" Kyle exclaimed, "Good luck charm. What's his face didn't even know what he had."

Alex felt his face get even hotter and soaked up the praise without question.

Kyle kept him close as they eventually left the casino when they had a solid amount of winnings, taking their tipsy asses to a drag bar a few blocks away. They were let in surprisingly easy for not being dressed up in the slightest. They drank more, talking closer over the loud music and getting absolutely lost in each other's company. Alex felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

A few times, Kyle tried to introduce him to men he thought he might be interested in, but Alex always found Kyle significantly more interesting. He didn't mind going to bed alone if it meant just having Kyle. He eventually got that and stopped sending other guys his way, instead accepting drinks from interested parties and sharing them with each other.

"Men suck. All of them. Except maybe you," Alex said confidently, drunk enough to speak his mind but not enough to mess with his balance (for the most part) as they walked down the lively street. Kyle seemed to be on the same level because he smiled, squeezing Alex's hip since he had a grip on him so he wouldn't lose him as they headed towards the hotel. "God, I wish you were gay."

Kyle laughed loudly, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Alex exclaimed, "You're, like, the only man I've met who understood what, like, growth is."

"What can I say? Therapy is a recommendation in my hospital," Kyle said. Alex snorted. "But glad I could be a good example."

"Yeah," Alex sighed, "You're my favorite person."

"Good," Kyle said, kissing the side of his head for what felt like the billionth time that night, "'Cause you're mine."

They were a block away from the hotel when they came across a 24-hour chapel. Kyle slowed as they neared it and came to a complete stop as he stared at it.

"You wanna get married?" Kyle asked. Alex blinked twice and looked at him.

"Seriously?" Alex said. His mind instantly started trying to be rational. Was he drunk? Was Kyle? What exactly did him asking that mean? Was it a joke? Would it be platonic? Would it be crazy to say yes even if it was?

"Yeah, why not?" Kyle said, looking at him with a fairly reckless smile. It reminded him of young Kyle who had talked him into sneaking into an abandoned house or had spontaneously learned how to do a backflip because he wanted to. He'd gotten a little more responsible since then, but it was nice to see. "Alex Manes deserves to give a nice fuck you to society and I'd love to do the honors of being that fuck you."

And, before Alex could even convince himself to ask questions, he nodded.

"Okay, sure."

Both drunk of hours of alcohol and each other, they found themselves standing in front of a tacky alter with a bouquet of faux flowers in Alex’s hand. They only partially listened to the guy who got his ordination credentials online, instead making teasing faces at each other. Alex felt like he was going to burst out of his skin, feeling a little confused and a little overwhelmed and a lot eager to understand what this meant. Would they frame their marriage license to put his dad’s grave and drink champagne in front of him? Would they use this for shared financial benefits? The healthcare between an Air Force officer and a doctor would be pretty sweet.

Except when the officiant said that they could kiss, Alex didn’t actually expect to Kyle to go for it. Or maybe he did because Kyle seemed to go in for a cheek kiss and Alex turned his head to meet his lips and Kyle just pulled him closer. And then Alex didn’t actually remember the kiss ending.

It was like he blinked and they were back at the hotel, pressed into the corner of the elevator as they shared the alcohol still on their tongues. Then they were in the hotel room, two queen sized beds with a single nightstand between them and Kyle led them towards the one closest to the door to share.

It only stopped when Alex had to take his prosthetic off and, even then, Kyle pressed kisses across his shoulders and up his neck and certifiably destroying Alex’s ability to overthink anything. All he could think about was Kyle and how he wanted to touch him and how they had fucking signed a marriage certificate.

After the prosthetic was off, Kyle grabbed his jaw and sealed them in another kiss, pulling him to lay back on the bed. He seemed like he knew what he was doing and that was equally as confusing as the rest of the things that were happening that night, so he stopped questioning it. He welcomed Kyle’s skin and his touch and his kisses and he only had to help him out with an angle here and there.

It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning plastered into Kyle’s side, naked and warm and finally more sober, that he realized he didn’t understand. More than just that, he was outright confused about everything that had happened. Kyle, his straight friend, had just casually married him and slept with him after he got dumped. Did he do it because he felt bad for him? Did he do it because he was drunk? Did he even remember it?

Alex sat up and looked at him. He was sound asleep still, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with each breath. Tiny bruises that Alex had accidentally put on him were partially hidden under his facial hair. He was gorgeous. And so, so, so not into him like that.

Alex quickly got his prosthetic on and pulled on his clothes before he went into the bathroom, avoiding his reflection as he splashed water on his face. He didn’t want to look at himself, didn’t want to face the fact that he felt like absolutely garbage for what he’d done. The whole “marriage” was blurry, but Alex probably guilted him into it somehow. He didn’t remember, though, and that made it worse.

But, honestly, whatever happened was bad. Kyle was his best friend, the main person he could rely on, his safe space. And he fucked it all up by letting it go too far. He was going to lose his best friend because he couldn’t be responsible.

“Alex?” Kyle’s voice called. Alex’s whole body ached in response, a flood of guilt and shame and desire all hitting him at once.

Kyle was his friend and he ruined it and, yet, he wanted to ruin it more. With him, he had fun and felt wanted and safe. No matter how stupid they were being, Alex never felt like the rug was being pulled out from beneath him. He was just safe. He wanted more of that.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Kyle asked, knocking gently. Alex squeezed his eyes closed. “You hungover? I can go get you something to drink. You like red Gatorade, right?”

Alex huffed a laugh and caved, swinging the door of the bathroom open. Kyle stood on the other side in all his naked glory and, honestly, it was a goddamn trap. It had to be. No one just looked like that casually.

“What happened last night?” Alex asked. Kyle stared at him, blinking a few times in confusion before his eyes widened slightly.

“You were that drunk?” he asked. Alex shook his head.

“No, I remember, I just... don’t,” Alex said, scraping his hands over his face, “I don’t get it. I don’t understand. Why did any of that happen? Did I make you feel like you had to or something?”

“You think I would marry you because I felt like I had to?” Kyle asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice. Alex didn't answer. "Look, it was a stupid ceremony and, and I don't think the license is even notarized officially or filed or whatever, so we can just rip it up and pretend it didn't happen if you want."

"Okay, so we pretend that didn't happen," Alex said loosely, his voice tightening as he got a little more upset and be gestured to the bed they'd shared, "How do we pretend that didn't happen?"

Kyle looked away from him for a second, falling so quiet they could hear the footsteps from the people in the room above them. Alex didn't know what to do.

"You want to forget that happened?" Kyle asked cautiously.

Alex huffed a laugh, “You don’t?”

Kyle was quiet for a long time, so long that Alex was beginning to feel sick. He felt like he drastically misunderstood something or maybe Kyle just was incredible at confusing him. Alex liked kissing him and, sure, the thought had crossed his mind more than once that Kyle would be the perfect boyfriend. Kyle was nice and thoughtful and cared about him. But he never in a million years thought Kyle might’ve thought about it too.

“Yeah, if you want to, sure. We forget it happened,” Kyle said, walking back towards the heart of the room to search for his clothes. Alex’s eyebrows were pulled together as he cautiously followed.

“Kyle, what the fuck is going on?” he asked. Kyle seemed to put an ample amount of attention into buttoning his jeans. “Don’t you want to forget it? I mean, I’d figure you’d want to forget sleeping with a guy.”

Kyle dropped his shirt and turned to face him.

“You must think real highly of yourself if you think I just decided to be bisexual because I wanted to make you feel better,” Kyle stated blatantly, “And you must think really highly of me if you think I was that good on my first try.”

“Wait,” Alex said, holding a hand up as he tried to process his words, “Wait, you...”

“I’m bi? Yes. And was it stupid to hook up with you knowing you just got out of a relationship? Also yes, but I’m not known to make good decisions when it comes to my romantic or sexual relationships, so,” Kyle said, throwing his arms out and letting them fall to his side pathetically.

Alex thought back through the last few months, trying to think back to any of the signs of Kyle realizing that about himself. He couldn’t remember when Kyle ever started acting differently. He was always just Kyle.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asked. Kyle took a long, deep breath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “Probably because I knew if I did, I’d have a lot less things keeping me from trying to marry you on a whim in the middle of Las Vegas.”

“Okay,” Alex said, slowly sitting down on the bed. A few seconds passed before Kyle sat beside him, sighing. Alex eventually looked at him after he processed his words. “You didn’t have to tell me if you weren’t ready. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m in love with you, Alex,” Kyle said, so openly that Alex’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “I have been for a long time and I’m tired of hiding it. Especially after last night. And if you’re not into me like that, okay, fine, I can take it. I-I need a little space, but we’re friends first and I can learn to stop loving you like that. But I need you to tell me because if you don’t, I’m going to sit and wait for the rest of my life.”

“You know, I didn’t expect this whenever you suggested we drive to Vegas,” Alex said, mind swimming with a million thoughts at Kyle’s confession. Kyle huffed a small laugh, but he didn’t try to add anything.

They sat there for a long time, Kyle letting him think over what he said. It was strange to think that, while Alex was dating idiots who didn’t treat him right, Kyle was just there and waiting for him to notice. It made a mess of the last year, a slew of overthinking every interaction. Was Kyle being nice because he was Kyle, or because he wanted to sleep with him? Or was it just because he loved him? Genuinely, truly loved him and didn’t make him feel like that was a bad thing? Was that a thing someone could do?

“Do you really love me?” Alex clarified after awhile. Kyle gently nudged his knee into Alex’s.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t thought about it every day for months,” he promised, “I love you and I want what’s best for you, whatever that means. So if you want me to fuck off, I will. If you want me to stay, then I will. Ball’s in your court.”

Alex took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. His handsome features, his honest eyes, the little hickies hidden in his facial hair. Alex wouldn’t mind looking at him forever, especially when that wasn’t all he had to offer.

“Can we do something in the middle?” Alex asked. Kyle waited. “Can we spend this weekend in Vegas being stupid and reckless, but when we got back to Roswell, give me some time to actually get over my last relationship. And then we start from square one? I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

“You don’t want me to be a rebound, but you wanna sleep with me again first?” Kyle clarified. Alex blinked innocently and gave a short nod in response. Kyle just laughed, moving forward back into his space and kissing him again.

Alex wasn’t sure if it was the sobriety, the love confession, or just the lack of confusion in general, but this kiss seemed to transcend all the previous ones. He leaned into it more, letting Kyle just love him openly and honestly.

And he liked that feeling.

#kylex #kylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #this is based on a tiktok i saw like a month ago

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Two (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.5k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

It’s a small lurch when the train starts moving. You hardly notice it anymore. With how fast it’s going, you guys should be in the Capitol in less than a day. You practically have no time to do anything.

You turn a bit, going to face everyone that’s standing by. Brutus, Theo, a couple of peacekeepers, and the two mentors, Shaye and Areti.

The peacekeepers move to their respected position, since they’re not needed at the moment. With the way that Theo is eyeing you though, they might as well have stayed where they were originally. If Theo bothers to pick a fight, then he’s got another thing coming if he thinks that any of the bystanding victors will bother to help him.

“Well?” You prompt, “What are you staring at?”

Theo puffs out his chest for a moment, like he’s gaining confidence. But with one look from the mentors, he must realize that he’s not needed here. The confidence drains, his shoulders slump slightly, and without a single word, he leaves the train cart.

It isn’t until he’s gone, when any of you actually consider talking.

“Alliance?” You give a small glance to Brutus, before moving to the refreshment table.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“It’s better than assuming.” you say, grabbing the whisky and pouring plenty of it into a glass.

“Not too much,” Neysa, the female mentor objects.

“I’m going to get drunk if I want to.” you tell her, taking a whole mouthful of the alcohol, “It’s one of my last chances.”

“The problem is--” Edmond plucks the glass from your hand, “You’re going to make a fool out of yourself.”

“Have you ever actually seen me drunk before?” you counter, he doesn’t answer, “You should’ve said no. Which then would lead me to my next point; I’m an adult, not a teenager. Hand over the glass.”

You hold out your hand diagonally, fingers spread and ready for the expensive crystal glass. Edmond doesn’t want to budge, so you push yourself off of the fancy table and move to get in his face.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not my parent. If you think I’m insane for wanting to volunteer, spit it the fuck out.”

With you standing eye to eye to him, straight faced, clearly radiating off the energy that you’re pissed, he takes a moment to assess the air. Picking his next words wisely, he speaks slowly, “I don’t think you’re in the most stable mindset.”

“Brutus volunteered.” You motion to him, “If he went to grab a drink, would you have objected?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe isn’t good enough,” you say, “It was a yes or no question.”

“(Y/n)--” Neysa tries.

You hold up your finger, “Unless you’re going to side with me, shut up.”

“No.” Edmond says.

“Then you’re being biased.” you reach over for the glass, and he moves it out of grasp again.

“Edmond.” Brutus’ voice is booming, clearly tired of this, “Give the woman her glass.”

“I think one sip is enough.” Edmond still is unmoving.

If you can’t have the glass, then you’ll settle for the bottle. As you laugh in his face, turning around and facing the table, you pick up the full bottle of whiskey. You wave it in his face teasingly like a child, “Your mistake. Now instead of one drink, I can have twenty.”

Not knowing what to say, they let you leave the room. You take the entire bottle with you, as you move to your room Inside, you unzip the back of the heels and leave them by the bedroom door. After that, you take a seat in the far right corner from the door. The chair is white, soft, and very cushioned.

Next to it is a table where you set the whiskey onto. Every now and then, you’ll reach over for a small, measured sip. You may be an asshole, but you’re smart. There’s no way you’re going to show up to the Capitol absolutely wrecked. Although, it could be a day or so before the other tributes even come in, so being drunk wouldn’t even be that bad.

It would be the morning after that you’d have to worry about. Being hungover and a complete bitch to the people around you. Unlikely, the people in the Capitol you can handle, it’s when the victors like Edmond--who has been around for years--thinks they know you well enough to police you.

You’re not a kid. You’re not a teenager. You can handle yourself.

You knew that they thought you were crazy for jumping at the opportunity so quickly. Some of the people in that little competition for the right to volunteer had thought it was a ‘leave it to the adults’ sort of thing. That you, and a few of the other younger people shouldn’t be allowed to participate at all.

You spat in their ‘respect the elders’ bit and told them that if they can take part, then you can too. Of course, you know how that turned out. All the older people got dropped off quickly, and like you said, Enobaria was the only one that was particularly difficult.

You’d like to say that you’ve never liked Edmond, but you’re not too fond of people in general. They wouldn’t even have to do anything wrong, and you’d be able to pick apart every single reason why you could pass on their company. May it’s the way they speak, or walk. Maybe it’s the way they treat people.

Could be because of their publicity, the way they won their games, or if you see them as a copycat. A rumor you heard, if they’re too on top of fashion trends and bandwagons. If they don’t like something you like, showing too much enthusiasm for something they like.

Possibilities are endless, you’re just an irritable person. A good reason, a bad reason, whatever it is, you’ll find it. Sorcha is mean. Enobaria sharpened her teeth for attention. Edmond is controlling. Tanith is clingy. Zavian is a plain asshole. Daleka is too power-driven. Neysa takes everything on as her responsibility. Theo is annoying, no need to expand there. And Brutus is… beefy, he tries too hard.

The whole entirety of District Two is full of a bunch of ‘mean girls’ anyway. It’s not really a surprise that all those irritabilities were easy to pick out. You hate each year of volunteer tributes because they think they know what they’re doing and they don’t need help, even if you have more knowledge.

Hell, even interacting with the mentors of one and four to connect alliances is a bit too much at times. It’s always assumed that the main careers will stick together, so it’s not hard getting you guys together. It’s the whole sponsor gifts and how it can benefit everyone, rather than the one tribute that it was actually targeted for.

You don’t mind being selfish, but sometimes they want to be generous and they’ll insist on you doing the same. Partially because the sponsors that you receive are filthy fucking rich, which makes it more than easy to send big gifts if you felt like it. But you never did, and you think that you never will.

As for District Four, there’s five victors, only four of which actually participate in the mentoring, since one is practically insane. You don’t mind working with Mags, communicating is difficult, and you worked with her once. The year after that was Finnick, and you turned your back entirely.

You never actually got to work with the other victors, an older man and woman. You don’t care to know why. You’ve never met them in your life, you just know that they exist because of your tour nine freaking years ago. Simple as that.

There’s a knock at the door, “Come in.”

Door slides open, and there stands Brutus, not a surprise, “Done drinking yet?”

“Have at it.” you pick up the bottle, holding it out for him, “The reapings done yet?”

“Don’t think so.” Brutus takes the bottle, “We’ll be in the Capitol in an hour, it’ll be done by then.”

You look at the clock by the bed. Sure enough, it’s just about time to get yourself ready to stand at the train doors to great the Capitol citizens. You wish you had at least a little more time to sit on the train, since this will probably be the last time you get a real sense of peace and quiet for a while.

But all good things have to come to an end, right?

“Alright.” you push yourself out of the chair, stretching, “I guess I should talk to Neysa.”

“She’s going to tell you to apologize to Edmond.” There’s a little smile on Brutus’ face that you catch just before he turns his back to you, heading for the door.

“You’re a bad liar.” you inform him.

“Who says I’m lying?” Brutus has a straight face now.

“The smile you had before you turned away from me. You’re not slick.”

“Worth a shot.”

He leaves after that with the whiskey, likely heading to the room where Neysa will be. Edmond is probably sulking in the last train car since you’ve outsmarted him yet again. Another thing about District Two: babies, all of them.

You grab your shoes, not pulling them on. You follow the path that you assume Brutus has taken to the first train car. In there, there will be seating and refreshments. You’ll probably eat something and then spend the rest of the time talking to Neysa and Brutus without Edmond being there.

Fingers crossed.

“How much did you drink?” Neysa asks as soon as you step in.

“Not that much, look at the bottle. Good portion of it was taken out because of the glass.” you jab your thumb towards the cup, “A sip here and there, I’m not even buzzed.”

You take a seat, watching as Brutus goes ahead and loads up a white glass plate with all the food you can imagine. You feel yourself grow a bit sick watching him. He’s a big dude, but if you ate nearly as much as he does, you’d find yourself with a stomach ache and the urge to puke it all out.

“What’s the plan?” you ask, leaning back, crossing your legs, “For when we land in the Capitol, I mean.”

“You won’t be groomed until tomorrow, if that’s what you mean. They’re going to save it for tomorrow, for the tribute parade so it’s more fresh.” Neysa says.

“Anyone there already?”

“One and nine.” Brutus says, taking a bite out of a sample sponge cake.

Ugh, District Nine. Probably the most suffocating mentors you’ve ever met. Since Districts one, five, two and nine surround the Capitol, it obviously lets you guys get there quicker. As opposed to districts like seven, twelve, six and ten who are so incredibly spread out it takes an entire day and a half to even get to the Capitol.

Other districts in the middle of you and the farther districts take about a full day, it depends on what time they leave their own train station. Later in the afternoon, they’re arriving the next day. Early in the morning, they can find themselves arriving at midnight.

It makes it a whole lot worse because the reapings are staggered throughout the day to make sure that the Capitol will be able to watch them live and in order. They have the commentary of Caesar Flickerman and the other dude--haven’t cared to learn his name, since he’s not very important in the first place. And then they take their time between each reaping to pick apart certain things. Make their bets early on.

They have the time to do that, because while one district ends their reaping, another is just beginning with the dark days speech. When the speech is over, then they start picking things apart, and they get to watch the reaping. Rinse and repeat.

You have a feeling that tonight isn’t going to be the best when it comes to reviewing the way other victors won. You know how most won already, but like you said, it’s review. Like you’re preparing for some test. If you can memorize the way that people fight and move, then you’ll have a better chance inside of the arena.

“You guys should try to expand your alliances beyond just the careers.” Neysa says, and then her eyes land on you, “Which means, that if there’s anyone valuable, like Finnick Odair--”

“Fuck Finnick Odair.” you spit at her, “I’m not teaming up with him.”

“He would be a good ally.” Brutus mutters.

“Good or not, he’s an asshole.”

Brutus chuckles, lowering his plate from his chest from a moment, “Have you seen yourself lately?”

“I never said I wasn’t an ass.” you tell him, “And if I’m going to be working with Brutus, and the tributes from one anyway, then does it really matter? Honestly, you think anyone will be able to kill us?”

Neysa raises her eyebrows, “You do realize that Katniss Everdeen will be inside of that arena, right?”

“I can take her.”

“You know how to fight distance?”

“That’s what the training center is for.” you say, “And do you remember what weapon I specialize in at all?”

“Sai’s are not long distance, they’re basically swords.” Neysa tells you.

You roll your eyes, “Right.”

“I’m serious, (Y/n). Make allies with some other people too. You think someone like Katniss or Finnick wouldn’t help you in the long run?”

“You think either of them wouldn’t backstab?” you challenge, “You think I won’t?”

“I expect you to.” Neysa says, “But they’ll help wipe out the competition in the meantime.”

You lean forward, “Neysa, there will be enough morons to run to the middle, which will take out more or less, half of the tributes. There have been times in the past where four working together has been good enough.”

Neysa slams her glass cup onto the table, shattering it. The drink that was inside, spreads over the clear table, running off of the edges and dripping onto the carpet. Neysa, fed up with your argument, pays no attention to the mess she’s just made, and leans forward too.

“We are talking about victors here. Four people will not be good enough.”

“I know what we’re talking about, Neysa!” you yell, “I’m the one going inside of the fucking arena! I know exactly what I just signed myself up for. Leave the alliance making to the people that are making them.”

Neysa laughs, shaking her head, “You really are impossible to work with.”

“You’re not working with me. You’re working for me.” you correct her, which makes Brutus stop in the middle of his chewing, and Neysa whips her head in your direction, “You’re working in my favor. You’re working with the stylists for me. You’re working with sponsors for me. You’re going to be working with the other mentors of the tributes I choose to make alliances with for me.

“You’re not working with me. You’re working for me to keep me alive, and there’s a very big difference. Because I can’t work with you when I’m inside of the arena, because I won’t be able to connect the dots. You have to do the shit for me.” you’re straight-faced, trying to get her to understand, while he looks like she’s finally putting the pieces together herself, “The only thing I won’t allow you to do for me, is set alliances on track. That is my job, I have to deal with them in the arena.

“And if I say I can’t work with Finnick Odair or Katniss Everdeen or whoever else I deem unreliable, then that means I can’t work with them. Period.”

Brutus slowly resumes eating his food, he’s probably just glad he won’t have to pull you off of Neysa or the other way around. He knows you won’t fight fair either, so stepping between you guys would have been a nightmare.

You’re not a difficult person, whether they want to believe that or not. You know what will happen when you get into that arena. You’ll be back to the first square, surviving and making sure that the people you did pick out for the alliances, aren’t going to turn on you.

Finnick will never be what you consider a good ally. He’s too perfect, too many people like him in the Capitol for you to enjoy him. His company isn’t nice to be around. He’s too full of himself, too confident in what he does. It makes you uncomfortable, and it makes it worse when he pretends that certain things haven’t actually happened to him. That where he is now, wasn’t given to him.

Plus all the histories he has with the games too. Certain titles that you can’t stand to see on him. He was the youngest ever victor to come out of the hunger games--fourteen. He’s absolutely adored by the Capitol, everyone fucking loves him. People not being able to see him as a threat inside of the arena, only for him to suddenly come out on top. And so much more.

It seems too whimsical for you. Too far-fetched.

With all the titles he already has--if he did get reaped for the Quarter Quell--the two-timing winner will just be another one added onto it. And even if you don’t know him pretty well, you know that will definitely inflate his ego. If there’s one person you wouldn’t mind strangling to death, it’s Finnick.

Just the thought of leaving your life in his hands for times when you’re fighting with other people inside of the arena, makes you want to puke. You’ll have to rely on him to keep you alive. And it’s not like he can’t make other alliances behind your back, because that has happened before in the arena.

Maybe those plans don’t always work out, but a tribute will maybe pair with the careers, but get a band of outsider districts to work with them to kill the careers. Even if the careers aren’t super good, they’ll take out a good portion of people while they can. Especially starting with the person who made that plan.

Finnick would definitely be a backstabbing bitch, you can just feel it.

“Okay, I’ll leave the alliances to you two.” Neysa says, “Promise me that you’ll try, though.”

“If I find even one person that I deem important enough, I’ll head your way for a request.” you say.

Brutus is loading up on a second plate, “Well, Katniss doesn’t really have any allies anyway, right?”

“What?” Neysa looks over her shoulder, and then turns her body to open it up for him to join the conversation.

“No one knows her, besides whoever she’s coming in with. We can twist her whatever way we want.” Brutus has a smirk on his face, you can see the way his cheek moves.

“Think she’s fond of careers?” you can feel yourself smiling too.

“She’s seventeen, she doesn’t know what to think.” Neysa says, nodding to herself as she begins towards the window, “We’re just getting in.”

“Time flies when you’re scheming.” you look at Brutus to see that he’s eating another piece of sponge cake, “Better clean up and brush your teeth.”

“Says the one with alcohol breath.” Brutus shoots back.

You give him a toothy smile, “All part of the charm.”

“Get out of my face.” You tell Theo for the third time.

“Tomorrow--”

“Neysa told me what happens tomorrow.” you say, “I get groomed early in the morning, I’m supposed be out of bed by six and in the living room half past. After that, I get waxed, showered, shaved--whatever. Then, the tribute parade.” you give Theo a bored look, “Let me know if I’ve missed anything.”

He opens his mouth, thinking. Then, a mischievous smile comes over his face, “Brutus doesn’t know.”

“Actually, I do.” Brutus says, he comes down the stairs to the living room, “Neysa and Edmond are very good at their jobs.”

“More like just Neysa is.” you mutter, reaching over for the remote so you can turn on the hologram.

As you get the entire program started, Theo finally leaves you be. Brutus takes a seat at the other end of the couch, slouched slightly.

The program starts with Caesar, introducing it all, like he does every year. He basically says that it’s a very special year, and that it should be interesting. He’s excited to see what will happen, yadda yadda. And then it begins with District One.

Girls go first, and you watch enthusiastically as Cashmere volunteers over the girl. Following her, is her brother, Gloss who also volunteers. They hold hands, smiling their white smiles and shaking her hands a little bit. Cashmere is preppy, nice and deadly. Nowhere near naive but she might run into things without thinking about it first.

Gloss is basically the same way, all you can say is that he lands somewhere on the himbo scale. He’s dumb, you don’t know in what way just yet, but he has that look about him. And he’s basically just a pretty face. However, since he is related to Cashmere, they’re definitely sharing fighting techniques.

Wherever one goes, the other will likely follow. They’ll agree on ideas and such. If you take votes, then that means they’ll keep together. You know deep down that they’ll be difficult to deal with, but probably worth it. They won their games for a reason, just like everyone else.

Caesar makes a small comment on how he’s surprised that the both of them have decided to go in together. It’ll make up a change if both of them make it to the end of the games. Having to kill your brother or sister--yeah, that’ll be hard to do. Unless they’re planning on making it back home together, somehow. That’ll never happen.

Next up is you and Brutus. The look on Theo’s face is hilarious both times around when you and Brutus interrupt him. Like Gloss and Cashmere, you and Brutus join hands, but there’s a difference. The siblings were obviously trying to look cute in some way, having their elbows bent with nice smiles, and the way they held onto each other.

With you and Brutus, it’s elbows extended, yelling into the crowd. There’s big smiles on both of your faces as you give the cameras a show. You’re proud, he’s proud. Two volunteers that are more than just excited to get into the arena. Even your soulmate couldn’t keep you from feeling what you did in that moment.

Caesar looks just as enthusiastic as you felt. The way he sits up in his chair, pointing his finger towards the screen, saying that’s the type of reaction they were hoping to get out of the tributes, the pride in all of this. Not some moping around bullshit. He compliments the two of you plentifully, before moving on.

District Three, Wiress and Beetee, two total nutcases. Beetee won his games by electrocuting the rest of the competition, which was a total of six people. He was crowned victor because of that, and since he’s older than Wiress, he might have even mentored her. They’re going to have around the same mindset.

“Wiress looks like she’s not all there.” Neysa says, standing behind the couch, leaning forward, “Look at her.”

“The both of them look scared shitless, what do you expect?” you laugh, “Beetee’s trying to keep a straight face, but there’s really no point. They’re like sheep in a pack of wolves.”

Nothing important comes from the commentators this time, so it rolls right into District Four.

This is when Finnick is pulled, followed by Annie who gets volunteered over by Mags.

Brutus laughs, “Look who it is!”

“I fucking jinxed it,” you shake your head, crossing your arms as you lean back against the couch, “Great.”

There’s a smile on Finnick’s face, like he’s proud that he’s going back inside of the arena. Just by the look of it, you can feel your blood begin to boil. He’s a prick, and he’s too much of a threat. If you want to win, he has to be one of the people that go first.

He goes over to Mags, pressing his head against her while he says something.

“How sweet.” you say through clenched teeth, before skipping to the next district.

District Five, nothing important. Six is the morphlings, another pain in the ass to deal with. They can hide all they want though, because they barely hold enough skills to live with in the first place. They’ll be gone before you know it.

Next is Johanna Mason and Blight, District Seven.

“Someone I can get behind.” you smile, leaning forward.

“Blight?” Brutus asks.

“Johanna.” you say, “Girl has got some power on her.”

“Is that a formal request?” Neysa asks.

“Write her down at least, I don’t think she’ll agree.” you say, “She despises the games entirely, I paid attention to her even after she won to see what would happen. She played the act up good.”

District Eight is some girl named Cecelia that has three kids holding onto her. You know immediately that she’s not going to survive just by the look of her. And then it proceeds to get worse when an old man named Woof is called up too. Brutus laughs like it’s a joke, and suddenly you’re skipping through the next two districts.

Nine and ten aren’t special, and neither is eleven with Seeder and Chaff. What you want to see is District Twelve. You watch as the district rep gets a little emotional when it comes to calling Katniss’ name. The camera picks up the tear on Katniss’ face, as the rep goes to call boys.

Haymitch gets pulled, and you’re about to call it, but Peeta volunteers over him.

“Look at that.” your voice is monotone, you’re not surprised. He’s in love with her, of course he’s going to volunteer to go in with her, “Deadweight is tagging along.”

“Deadweight?” Neysa asks, eyes following you when you stand from the couch.

“That’s what you call someone when they’re no use.” you say, “He can’t do anything for shit, and I dare you to try and change my mind on that.”

“No point when you’re right.” Brutus says.

“I guess I should call Cashmere and Gloss’ mentors.” Neysa pushes herself off of the couch, “And maybe call Johanna’s too.”

“Not Johanna.” you tell her, “Not just yet, she’s a maybe.”

“At least you’re making an effort.” Neysa says, disappearing around a corner.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter two

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part VII

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, eventual smut. 18+ only.

Note: Jealousy games yikes. Also happy 100 followers! I’ll be posting another prompt request soon :)

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI

PART VII of X

Count: 4489

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were lying in bed while Natasha slept. It was still the early hours of the morning, and you would give it another hour or two before Natasha would wake up to start her day.

When you had come into her home after leaving Wanda’s hotel, you were still so riled up that you started kissing Natasha as soon as she opened the door. The enthused woman immediately returned your attention, leading you to her bedroom and letting you fall on top of her.

You were kissing her roughly, moving your body against hers as she ran her fingers through your hair.

It felt good.

You wanted to continue. But you couldn’t.

The image of Wanda writhing underneath you stopped you from taking it over the line with Natasha.

And that had never happened to you with any other girl. You knew right then it could never be anyone but Wanda.

You stopped kissing Natasha, letting out a quiet sigh, and smiling at the redhead beneath you.

“Sorry, I just...don't want our first time being like this...I’m not quite ready.” You told Natasha, who graciously just rubbed your cheek and kissing you softly with an understanding smile.

You spent the entire night chatting softly together as she lay partially on your shoulder and your arm around her. She fell asleep at some point, but your mind was too wired to do the same.

When it felt appropriate, you got up as quietly as you could to avoid waking Natasha.

You think she would appreciate some breakfast.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda had spent the night in the hotel room, lying on her back in the same state you had left her in.

She mussed her hair messily and sighed.

She was obsessing.

Had you already reached Natasha’s? Were you kissing her with those same lips you had just kissed her with? Touching Natasha with those hands that were just on her?

Were you worshipping Natasha’s body when you should’ve been worshipping hers?

The temptation to call your phone or even show up at Natasha’s had crossed Wanda’s mind, but she resisted it.

Wanda was sure you wanted her, it was obvious. She was the right choice for you. No one would fit you better than her.

But if you insisted on being friends, then she would have to step up her game.

Wanda slept for a few hours before the day started. She had the hotel set her up with a driver to send her home with all her gifts. When she got home, Vision had returned. He looked incredibly hungover, and the sight sent Wanda fuming.

“Wanda--” Vision started, but she cut him off.

“Are you fucking serious?” Wanda seethes at him, and the volume made him wince and put his palm to his eye.

“Not so loud,” Vision pleads. A baffled look enters on Wanda’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wanda says, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “Is me being pissed that you went missing during my birthday, worrying me, but only for me to find out that you were just blackout wasted giving you a headache?”

Vision sighs, grabbing a glass of water and rummaging through the cabinets for Advil.

“Wanda, love, I am so sorry,” Vision said as he took two pills. “I don’t know what happened. I was signing my contract, and we just had a couple drinks to celebrate, and it just got out of control so fast.”

Wanda scoffs, crossing her arms. “Do you know how embarrassing it was for me for you to go missing without saying anything? You were the one who made such a big deal about performing for me!”

She uncrossed her arms, bring her hand up to grasp her temples with her middle finger and thumb.

“I am happy for you, Vision,” Wanda said tiredly. “I really am that you’ve finally got signed on. But you promised me you were going to be there. Do I mean so little to you that you would go and get that drunk elsewhere on my birthday?”

Vision went over and knelt in front of her, grabbing her hands in his.

“No, love, not at all. I’m sorry, I messed up. Let me still sing you the song I wrote,” Vision pleaded Wanda, putting her hands to his mouth. She pulled away, a frown on her face.

“I am not in the mood to listen to your song, Vis. I’m really upset.”

“Wanda, please. It’s just a birthday. I promise to make it up to you.”

Wanda’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Just a birthday? Vision, it was my birthday. It was my birthday, with all of our friends and people I work with. It was near humiliation for me. I was so lucky that I still got a performance dedicated to me.”

Vision frowned, “Who?” He demanded.

“Lady Phantom,” Wanda answered with a sniff of her nose.

Vision got up and groaned.

“Seriously?” He asked, “her?”

Wanda looked offended. “What’s the supposed to mean?”

“Wanda, there’s something off about her. Since she showed up, everything has been going weird between us.”

Wanda scoffed, she couldn’t even believe what Vision was saying.

“Don’t blame your lack of attention to me on her! You put yourself in this situation. I have supported you for years, Vis. Always at your side with you pursuing music, even when no one was listening. I put my career aspirations aside to make sure you were comfortable. But the second you get recognized by some hot shots, I’m on the back burner?” Wanda narrowed her eyes at Vision as she spoke.

“I want a break, Vision,” Wanda said, frowning deeply.

“Wanda, no,” Vision pleaded, coming in to hug her, but she moved out of the way.

“Vision, I’m serious,” she said. She took off her engagement ring, putting it in his hand. “I need time to think, and we need time apart.”

Vision took the room, staring at it sadly before looking at Wanda again. He wanted to say something but with the look on her face, he knew she was serious. And when Wanda was serious, there was nothing that could change her mind.

He sighed, putting the ring into this pocket, grabbing his jacket and walked out the door.

When Vision was gone, Wanda sighed. She took a seat and rubbed her temples to relieve the oncoming headache.

She wanted to call you, but the fear of you not picking up, or worse, Natasha picking up your phone for you made her not.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha had been the one to tell you about a gala Tony was hosting for the 75th anniversary of Stark Industries.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Wanda in a couple weeks, but you heard once again from Natasha that the two of them had gone on a break.

The news made you smirk internally.

So, you got dressed up in your chic custom made tuxedo, your slightly sheer white dress shirt unbuttoned enough to show your collarbone and the dip to your chest. You had an untied bowtie wrapped around the collar of your shirt, sitting perfectly on either side of your chest. You were rolling up the sleeves of your jacket and then used your fingers to delicately moved your curled hair over to one side.

Natasha came in with her tight red dress that fit her curves perfectly and showed off her back.

“You look unbelievably sexy,” She commented at the door, leaning against it with her arms crossed.

You looked at her through the mirror and smirked before turning around to walk towards her. She stood up straight, grabbing the lapels of your jacket and smoothing them out.

“Not looking shabby yourself, Miss Romanoff,” you said in return, moving in to kiss her lightly, moving your hand to caress her bare back.

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed. “Keep that up, and I may end up keeping you here.”

You chuckled against her lips and pulled back.

“I’m sure Tony will be displeased with me if I keep his favorite publicist from his party.”

“Favorite?” Natasha mused. “I’m his only publicist.”

“Not if we don’t get a move on now to the party,” you say, ushering her along to get out to the car waiting.

She laughs huskily.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You two were the last to arrive at the party. They were all standing in a circle, and your eyes caught Wanda’s briefly. She was beautiful in her silver dress that ended just before her knees. It was a long sleeve, but the arms and her collarbones to her chest were all transparent lace designs.

She was staring at you, unashamed with her hungry look that no one noticed.

Clint had made a joke wondering what took the two of you so long while Bruce stared at the two of with a clenched jaw and drink in his hand. Vision was here as well, though standing a couple persons away from Wanda rather than next to her.

You kept your hand deliberately on Natasha’s waist, pulling her closer to you as you all talked in a group. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you, and you soaked it up. Leaning over, you brushed your lips against Natasha’s ear, asking her if she wanted anything to drink. She nodded, and you pressed a light kiss to her neck, your eyes meeting Wanda’s for a split second before walking off.

You were at the bar, ordering a drink for yourself and then Natasha’s drink when you felt someone stand next to you. You looked over to see Wanda with a blazing fury in her eyes.

“I know what you’re doing,” she says, and you’re taking a sip of your drink before turning to her.

“And what’s that?” You asked her with a cock of your brow.

“You’re trying to get a reaction out of me,” Wanda said, leaning against the counter, purposely moving her hair over her shoulder to draw your attention to her defined collarbone.

You licked your lips subtly, but Wanda still caught it and smirked. You immediately drew your attention back up to her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You tell Wanda. “I’m just here to enjoy my night with Natasha.”

With that, you walk off, two drinks in hand as you return to the redhead’s side. She smiles at you, taking her drink and gives you bedroom eyes. The two of you chat some more before you pull her onto the dance floor with you. Your hand is dangerously low on her back while she’s pressed up against you with that smile that made every man turn into a stuttering mess.

As you were leading the dance, you could see Vision tentatively ask Wanda for a dance. She looked at you on the floor, catching your eye once more. She smirked at you before agreeing to Vision, who then led her onto the floor. Wanda stared at you the entire time as she pressed herself closer to Vision and allowed him to guide her.

Your jaw clenched slightly as the way Vision was pushing his luck, caressing Wanda’s back, sliding further down intimately.

And Wanda not stopping it.

You turned your attention back to Natasha, smiling seductively at the woman in your arms as you spun her out before pulling her back in and dipping her slightly in your arms.

When you pulled her back up, you sighed a little.

“What’s the matter?” Natasha asked as you continued the dance.

You look into her eyes and just smile a little sheepishly. “Nothing. You’re just...so incredibly attractive. I just wish I could kiss you right now.”

The redhead usually was not one for public displays of affections, but her lips quirked up as she eyed you.

“What’s stopping you?”

You slowed your dancing, your eyes fluttered as they dropped to her lips.

“I might just really kiss you, Romanoff.”

Natasha tilted her head up, her own eyes moving to your lips.

“Don’t tease,” she whispers. Your dancing comes to a full stop as the song ends, but you lift your hands to cup her jaw, moving in to kiss her deeply and slowly. Your eyes open to look past her to see Wanda standing with Vision, jaw clenched at you.

Soon enough, you pull away and peck Natasha once more softly on her lips.

“Thank you for the dance,” you tell her, and she grins at you. You take a step back and bow slightly with the end of the dance.

“Find me later,” she mouths at you before walking off to find Tony to talk to some of the guests.

The party is starting to get a little full, so you walk out into the hallway to get some air.

As soon as you step out, though, someone grabbed you by the arm.

You looked over to see the social influencer next to you, pulling you further away from the ballroom.

Wanda dragged you to the washroom, pushing you up against the wall and trapping you between her arms.

"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?“ She asked eyebrows pinched in irritation.

"Doing what?” You asked innocently. Wanda frowned even more deeply hearing your response.

"Don’t play dumb with me. You’re being all over Natasha on purpose. Don’t you think you’re being a little cruel to me?“ Wanda asked, closing the distance between your bodies.

You raised your brow at her. "Only as cruel as you being all over Vision in front of me. You didn’t think I would notice?”

Wanda only pressed her body right against you perfectly, her thigh between your legs and pressed against you intimately.

Your breath hitched, and Wanda smirked as she lowered her head to your neck and sucked at the skin there, being careful to not leave a mark.

Your hands clenched together in a fist as your eyes shut close. Wanda peppered kisses all the up your neck to your jawline before lightly swiping at your lips. There was a slight pause as Wanda watched you with half-lidded eyes before smashing her lips against yours.

She kissed you wildly, her hands wrapped up in your hair and thigh pressing against you more firmly.

You moaned into her mouth, and she pulled back slightly. Wanda’s face was still insanely close to you as you both shared the same air.

“Fine, keep your hands all over Natasha. Just remember that only I can make you feel this hot. You can do whatever you want, but I know it’s me you want underneath you, writhing as you fuck me.” Wanda hissed, her mouth so close that the words vibrated off your lips.

Suddenly, your body felt cold as she pulled away. You opened your eyes to see Wanda standing there looking smug as she licked her lips, and walked out of the washroom, leaving you alone.

You relaxed against the wall, leaning your head back as you let out a big sigh, smiling to yourself.

This.

This was how you wanted someone to react in a situation like this.

You didn’t want them to cry or beg for your attention.

You wanted them to demand it.

And oh, Wanda certainly did a great job of claiming it.

You stayed in the washroom for a couple more minutes before returning back into the ballroom. You spotted Wanda at the bar, talking casually with Clint and Sam. She noticed you as well, only looking at you in her peripheral before returning her attention to Clint and Sam.

The next thing you noticed was Natasha and Bruce talking heatedly in the corner. Judging from the situation, you could tell Natasha was getting visibly angry with whatever Bruce was saying to her.

Walking over, you came up to the two of them with a smile, effectively stopping the conversation as you put your hand on Natasha’s back.

“Everything alright?” You asked, more towards Natasha as you eyed Bruce.

He was certainly reaching his limit faster than you had expected. You couldn’t blame him, though. Perhaps he had caught you passionately kissing the redhead on the dance floor.

“Everything is fine,” Natasha said, tone a little clipped. She grabbed your hand, smiling curtly at Bruce.

“If that’s all, we’ll be off now.” Natasha pulled you away from the scientist, and you just followed her.

She still looked a little upset with her eyes focused, brows tightened, and nostrils slightly flared. Once you felt far away enough, you stopped, tugging Natasha to a stop as well.

She turned around to you and softened at your expression.

“Are you okay?” You genuinely asked. Natasha sighed, dropping your hand, but you stepped closer in response.

“Yeah, just...it’s really complicated with him as I told you,” she replied, closing her eyes for a brief second as she ran her fingers through her hair.

You could feel it. Bruce was just a step away from snapping and doing whatever he could to get Natasha back.

Whatever you had with Natasha was ending.

The only question was if you were going to let her go before that happened.

You put your hand on Natasha’s arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort her.

She opened her eyes, staring at you with a small smile.

“Do you still love him?” You asked her softly.

The question made the redhead freeze momentarily, but it was the answer you needed, and Natasha knew.

“But I really like you too,” she softly told you. You returned her soft smile with your own.

“But it’s not really over between the two of you, is it?” You ask her, dropping your hand and putting the other into your pant pocket.

Natasha pursed her lips, eyes watering just ever so slightly. “I don’t want things over between us. You’re amazing, and we’re good together. We make sense.”

“Sometimes the love you want doesn’t always make sense,” you tell her, and it fits perfectly in both your guys’ situations.

Natasha just gives you a sad lopsided smile as she goes in to embrace you tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles against your shoulder. You return the hug equally as tight, rubbing her back up and down.

“Don’t be. Not like we made it official or anything,” you joke and she chuckles. “We’re still friends, Nat. I want you to be happy, so go get ‘em, tiger.”

Natasha pulls back, kissing you one last time on the cheek and smiles before leaving you.

You sigh, a little relieved that you were able to end things on good terms with the redhead, but now you were stuck in a different predicament.

Wanda would eventually find out that you and Natasha ended.

And while she was on a break with Vision, a break was only a break until it officially ended or they get back together.

You needed to find a new distraction and quick.

The game was still on, and Wanda was quickly getting the upper hand.

And you never lose a game.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda was eyeing you like prey the moment you had entered back into the room. Clint and Sam were talking to her about something, but she had tuned it out a while ago, just nodding at the appropriate places.

She watched as you walked over to Natasha and Bruce and huffed a little.

Seriously? After that hot moment in the washroom, you still walked to Natasha first?

She watched from her peripheral the entire time as Natasha was dragging you away before the two of you chatted. Then she was hugging you, and you were returning the hug so intimately.

The hot burning jealously pooling in her gut made her grip her glass a little tighter.

“So, how are things between you and Vision?” Clint asked, bringing Wanda’s attention back.

“Huh? Oh, I guess it’s okay,” Wanda answered. Honestly, she hadn’t really been talking to him since the day she told them they needed a break. From what others have told her, he was currently staying with Tony.

“Yeah, I saw the two of you dancing earlier,” Sam commented.

Wanda nodded, relaxing her grip on her cup as she took a sip.

“Yeah,” she said for lack of anything else to say.

“Any thoughts on getting back together?” Clint asked, neither hinting that he wanted them to or not.

Wanda glanced over at Vision, who was already staring at her. She turned her attention back to Clint.

“To be honest...no,” Wanda answered honestly with a sigh. “Maybe it seems like I’m overreacting over him not showing up for my birthday, but it’s more than that. I guess things have been changing for a while, I just kept holding on thinking that I could make it work.”

Clint gave her a sympathetic look while Sam put his hand on her shoulder, comfortingly.

“We’ll support you no matter what, Wanda. Just, maybe let Vision know that as soon as possible, so he’s not holding out hope longer than he needs to. It’ll get messy if that happens.” Clint advised her, and Sam nodded in agreement.

Wanda gave them both a half-hearted smile and nodded as she hugged both of them. They left her alone after a moment, and Wanda sighed as she left the premises again, this time to stand outside.

It was a little brisk, and she regretted not bringing a jacket as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Suddenly, a jacket was being wrapped around her shoulders. Her heart flared up as she turned, hoping to see you, but it was only Vision standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted her softly.

“Hey,” she returned quietly.

The two of them stood there silently next to each other for a couple minutes.

“I’ve had a lot of think about over the last few weeks,” Vision said, breaking the silence.

The two of them turn to face each other, and Vision had his hands in his pockets.

“I messed up. Real bad, and I know that. I’ve taken you for granted over the years we’ve been together. You were right. I think a part of me has always wanted to be in the same league as you, and when I wasn’t, the insecurity made me drag you back.” Vision confessed, regret in his eyes.

“But, I want to change that. I have a chance to change all that,” he started and pulled out Wanda’s ring from his pocket. “I will be a better man, the man you deserve. Someone who supports you in your career aspirations too. I have to leave to New York to work on my debut. If that goes well, I will go on tours.”

He grabs Wanda’s hand, pushing the ring towards her. “I want you to be there with me. I want to do this together and reach new heights together. Whatever you want there, I will happily give you.”

Vision finishes his speech, holding out the ring and waiting for Wanda’s response.

To be honest, this is the most romantic thing Vision has ever said to her. Months back, this would’ve made her heart flutter, and she would’ve been crying as she said yes.

But now?

Now all she could think of was you.

Your eyes, your smile, the way you looked at her, the way you put her in the center of your universe to make sure she got what she wanted.

The hot explosion she felt when you guys kissed, and the hot liquid fire she felt pool in her belly when your hands were intimately on her.

She wanted you.

And Wanda would be the only person to have you.

She pulled her hand gently away from Vision, giving him a sad smile.

“This break has given me a lot to think about as well,” she told him. “It made me realize that things have been different between us for a while, even if I may not have shown that to you. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart is no longer in it.”

Wanda watched as Vision’s expression turned to heartbreak, and she put her hand on his cheek. He pressed his face further into her hand, his own hand holding it there as his other lowered the ring.

“I am so happy for you, Vision, to get the recognition you have always wanted. You’re a great man, but you’re just no longer the man for me. You’re going to reach new heights, even without me.”

Vision couldn’t say anything, a large lump stuck in his throat and a burning in the back of his eyes as he looked at the love of his life.

He swallowed the lump painfully, looking at her once more.

“I just have to know one thing,” he said, voice a little raw.

It was all he could think about. He had noticed some Wanda looking at you occasionally tonight. Tony had filled in him what happened at the party, and it didn’t sit well with him.

“Are you in love with her?” He asked quietly.

Wanda was silent as if to contemplate her answer. She looked at Vision, a resigned expression on her face.

“It has nothing to do about why we’re ending,” she finally says. It’s enough for Vision, and he nods, shutting his eyes painfully.

Wanda tippytoes up and kisses Vision at the corner of his mouth before coming back down. She drags her hand out of his while he slowly hangs on before her hand slips from his grasp completely.

Wanda walks away, simultaneously feeling sad but also relieved. She wanted to go back in to find you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You, on the other hand, had been around the corner, listening into the conversation of what Vision and Wanda were saying. You had noticed she was missing and had gone out to offer her your jacket knowing she didn’t bring one.

You hadn’t expected that Vision had been already out there. Your hands clenched your bicep a little tighter as your arms were crossed, and you listened to Vision romantically confess that he wanted Wanda back.

But Wanda, to your astonishment, rejected him. You had expected her to play it out a little longer to wind you up a little more. God knows the burning rage of jealousy you felt today watching her all over him while dancing revealed to Wanda that she could also play you like a fiddle.

But this was her edge.

And it was beautiful to you. The way she obsessed over you and was unraveling was a work of art.

Perhaps the game was ending sooner than you thought.

It was now a matter of who was closing in on who.

You licked your lips, still tasting the remanents of Wanda from earlier.

Getting up from leaning against the wall, you decided that you were heading home for tonight.

Otherwise, you’d find yourself the prey caught in Wanda’s trap.

Not that you would mind, you thought with a smirk.

But you would be the hunter before you would be the prey.

PART VIII

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