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p---ink · 3 years

Text

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though.

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self)

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it.

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.”

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.”

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared.

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.”

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker, after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath.

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her.

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present.

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered.

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been.

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words.

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep.

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat.

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him.

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case.

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her. “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels, and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious.

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain.

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat.

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable.

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way.

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification.

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl.

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question.

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted.

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long.

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt.

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained.

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips.

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing.

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all.

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield.

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her.

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?”

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him.

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one.

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous.

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked.

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment.

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.”

“Say please.” He teased.

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied.

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him.

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin.

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans.

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties.

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat.

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member.

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down.

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her.

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue.

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there.

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin.

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him. She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips.

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her.

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky.

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her.

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core.

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried.

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest, becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better.

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm.

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her.

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her.

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny.

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence.

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue.

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined.

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window.

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure.

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning.

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried.

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button.

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers.

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say.

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone.

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip.

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life.

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair.

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed.

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake.

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came.

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted.

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat.

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high.

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly. “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.”

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them.

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare.

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?” She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop.

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.”

A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error.

#peter parker x reader #Peter Parker smut #Peter Parker x black!reader #black!reader #Peter Parker fluff #spiderman x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagines #spiderman #Peter parker #black reader #smut #dark!peter x reader

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yunkiwii · 3 years

Text

—i miss you even when you're here—

pairing: bf!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, established relationship

wc: ~2.7k

warnings: feeling of abandonment, loneliness, stress, insecurities

⇢ requested by @leihey ♡ i hope this lives up to your expectations!

summary: for seven days y/n has been feeling lonely as her boyfriend spends all his time either at work or thinking about work.

You turn your alarm off without even looking at it, huffing before reaching your arm to the left side of the bed, and the way it lands straight out into the wrinkled sheets with a muffled sound confirms what you expected but still hoped wouldn't happen today - waking up alone.

For the past week Seungmin would get home late to a long asleep girlfriend at their shared bed, and a plate of cold food on the kitchen table. On the other hand, you would wake to an already empty bed and a faint memory of a forehead kiss, one you wondered if it were real or just a lucid dream.

For seven days you have spent your time either at work or alone at home, carefully thinking what meal would cheer up your boyfriend the most after a long stressful day at JYPE, missing the way he would always cut the onions because he knew you were more sensitive than him to the burning feeling in your eyes and would cry easily, missing how the kitchen always felt so small for the two of you to cook together, his hands constantly on your waist as a way to tell you to "scootch over", not wanting to interrupt his singing to tell you verbally.

For seven days you have been cooking alone, cooking for someone you didn't know would show up in time or not. And whenever he did - he didn't - being his presence merely physical, greeting kisses placed on your cheeks, lips and forehead in a mechanical way, a force of habit. For seven days your kitchen felt too big, too quiet and the onions made you cry more than usual.

At the eighth day you couldn't take it anymore, and when you heard the doorknob of your front door creaking, just as you were setting the table - for two -, you had to take three deep breaths, the words you had organized and planned out started to get mixed up in your brain, creating a mess you couldn't control anymore and so, as soon as you see Seungmin entering the kitchen you can only say three words, "I love you."

"I love you too, silly." he chuckles as his lips peck yours quickly, "Is that what you wanted to talk to me about so desperatly?", he waves his phone, referring to the text you sent him earlier. He didn't look annoyed at you for making him come home earlier than it was usual lately, but he still seemed off, and the bags under his eyes screamed "exhaustion" the same way the marks your tears left on your cheeks did too.

You watch him as he eats, unable to do so too yourself, the lump in your throat growing as you hear Seungmin's muffled voice thanking you for the meal with his mouth full and a light squeeze on your thigh. And you wondered if you were being unfair, if you were being selfish, because he was allowed to be stressed about his work, he was allowed to not be at his best all the time, and it wasn't his fault he had to stay until late at night at work. But it was his fault that he couldn't leave work when he got home, that he couldn't put his phone down and ask how your day was, to just take ten minutes of his day to just be with you, and you only. And you were allowed to miss him, miss his touch, miss the way he held you tightly at the end of the day while you watched the most random tv show together, because it wasn't the show that matter but each other's company.

And, without realizing it, you had already spilled all of this to him before the kitchen dropped dead silent again, and everything went blurry. You couldn't even see his face, not until his hands cupped your cheeks and his thumbs cleaned your tears as you mumbled quietly, "I'm sorry, I- I just miss you."

"But I'm right here (y/n)...", he pulls your chair closer until your knees touch, taking your hand in his while the other lifts your chin so your eyes meet, "Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I'll get off earlier and pick you up. You'll wear that fancy outfit you've had in your wardrobe for ages, and I'll put on a nice suit and tie. What do you say?"

And in the eighth night you went to bed feeling a little warmer inside, his back turned to you didn't hurt as much now that your hand rested on his side and his shirt was worn by you. Knowing - hoping - that tomorrow will be better, you fall deep into dreamland as soon as you shut your eyes.

However, you couldn't help but to feel abandoned again when, hours later, a cold breeze hits your stomach and arms, making you mumble something in your sleep as you try to recover whatever was blocking that breeze before. One of your hands gets a grip of a soft fabric that seems too heavy to pull back down next to you, leaving your sleepy self whining for the owner of said fabric not to leave again.

"I will be back later, don't forget I'll pick you up for dinner. Go back to sleep now, (y/n)."

But how could you forget about dinner with him when, for the last eight days it was all you were longing for, and for the nineth day it was all you could think about?

Said day passed by slower than ever, an illusion caused by the clear anticipation you felt about the upcoming night. Anticipation addressed by your colleagues at work, who wondered what has sent your head into cloud 9 and your right leg into a fidgeting state, unable to stay still.

These same nervous actions continued at home, the funny feeling in your stomach resembling the very first date you had with Seungmin a few years ago, back when you were still a college student and he wasn't as busy as now. The same thoughts you had that day invading your restless mind again, "What if he doesn't like me (anymore)?", "What if he thinks I am (got) boring?", "What if my outfit doesn't fit?".

With that last thought you rush to your bedroom - but not without tripping on the first step of the staircase - to, in desperate clumsy movements, try out the said outfit you've been wanting to wear for so long, the one Seungmin got you for a "special date" months ago, one that never happened. But it did fit, it fitted better than ever and when you saw your reflection in the mirror even you fell in love with the person in front of you, the one doing little swirls with a stupid smile on her face, the person you doubted to be yourself. And, suddenly, you felt like everything would be alright, everything would go back to normal, maybe things would get even better than before, "there is no way he'll fall out of love for me when I look like this" was your first thought.

But he didn't even seem to notice your appearance, he didn't seem to notice you at all, he simply picked you up at the agreed time with a peck on your lips and one single rose in hand. All he did was drive you - in silence - to the fanciest restaurant in town, leave you alone at the table about three times to pick up the phone - "it's from work, I'm sorry" -, pay for both your meals and drive you back home.

And it took him to hear the quiet sobs you so hardly tried to keep in, while laying as far away as possible from him that you had to secure yourself from falling over the edge, to realize what he had been doing to you, to finally figure out how much he has been hurting you. And in that moment his sobs could be heard too. The realisation and guilt hit Seungmin like a truck and he couldn't move. He couldn't believe how he had let his stress and excessive work load affect you too. He couldn't believe he had reached a point to where he brought work home, one thing he had promised you he would never do. And his chest tights up a bit more when he realises you never got mad at him for breaking his promise, and breathing gets difficult when he faces you - your back.

"(Y/N)...", and your stomach drops five feet down at his cracked, low tone, and "I'm so sorry..." was all he could say before bursting into silent tears once more.

However, you were too hurt to face him, and the burn in your eyes increases when you feel the mattress sink behind you before a warm hand rests on your waist, but you don't push him away.

The nineth night was his the turning point, and Seungmin swore to your asleep self - and to himself - that the next morning would mark a new beginning.

And in the first morning you pretended to be asleep when his hand took a few strands of hair off your face, his lips barely touched your skin and his voice broke your heart, "see you later". And you held your breath until the bedroom door closed and stood still until the front door locked. But it took longer today, and in between these two moments you heard noise in the kitchen, and within a few minutes a nice smell made its way into your hiding place, as if it was trying to lure you to give in and face your boyfriend. But not even your grunting stomach stopped you from waiting to hear his car drive off to get up. And when you did, the curiosity took over you. He never cooks in the morning, and he never leaves this late. Something was changing after all.

Hence, in the first night, you shifted your body to face him when he quietly climbed in bed next to you, your left cheek pressed against your hands as a weak smile greeted the tired boy, "I appreciated the breakfast." Nevertheless, you didn't reach out to pinch his cheek the way you used to, though you had the urge to do so when his own lips drew a smile and his eyes got lost in his cheeks.

In the second morning you didn't pretend to be asleep and you didn't wait for the car to leave. In the second morning you sat at the kitchen table with Seungmin and, because he knew it would take you time to go back to him, he didn't force a conversation, he didn't force skinship, he merely held your hand and squeezed it lightly. And you knew he was trying, you knew he would try and wait until you were ready to trust him again, to give him your heart again.

Day by day you would slowly give him little pieces of you, by sharing the most small and insignificant stories of your day, by letting him hold your hand at night, by sharing earpods with him on the couch when you couldn't fall asleep, by letting him try and do all the things he shouldn't have stopped doing in the first place.

But it took you seven days and seven pieces to trust him with your heart again. Therefore, on the seventh day, as the the sunbeams peaked through the poorly closed shutters and reflected on Seungmin's bare shoulders, you couldn't help yourself from admiring him and, for the first time in seven days, you felt warm inside. The butterflies you used to feel the first times you woke up next to him were back, and were more annoying than ever.

You let yourself study all his features attentively, scanning all his perfect imperfections, letting yourself fall for him all over again - not that you think you ever fell out of love, but rather disconnected from it, and him.

He flinched and mumbled confused words, and you couldn't help but to smile and giggle softly at how silly your sleepy, drooling nonense-speaking boyfriend looked. This time, you gave in to the urge of pinching his cheek tenderly as to not wake him up, and you left your hand resting there as your thumb rubbed his soft skin.

As you were feeling your eyes becoming heavy again, your thumb stopped the movement and your hand slid down a bit. Your body relaxing more and more, until a ticklish feeling pulled you back to the "here and now", just to find Seungmin kissing the palm of your hand with his eyes still closed before pulling you closer to him, making you wince and giggle when his warm breath hit your ear and his raspy voice gave you his "good morning's".

He moved his body sloppily, hitting you with his elbow before comfortably positioning half of his body on top of yours, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he held you tightly by your waist, as if he were afraid you would run away.

"I missed you Seungmin, I missed you even when you were here." Your fingers got lost in his messy hair as you spoke, his grip on you grew tighter and you felt the tears peaking in the corner of your eyes. "You hurt me... and I thought about leaving you before you left me first."

For the first time you were letting him know how you truly felt, for the first time you were opening yourself up to him without any ounce of shame or fear. And this was your turning point. This was the moment you both knew you were back, ready to mend all the wrongs and the scattered pieces of your hearts that were left all around the house. "But everyone makes mistakes. And I know you have been trying, and-", Seungmin shifts his body once more, supporting himself with his hands as he is now hovering over you with his eyes locked in yours, a restless look in his face worried about what you would say next, and suddenly you feel shy, "What I mean to say is, I forgive you. I choose to stay and love you even if my mind won't let me believe that you love me back, I will trust you and your actions. So please don't let my mind trick me again, don't give it reasons to doubt your love for me unless you don't feel it anymore."

You pull his hair back waiting for a reaction, leaving your hand to rest behind his neck ready to pull him in for a kiss, the first real kiss in sixteen days. But you wait for what it feels to be an eternity, until he breaks the silence and mends the last piece of your heart when he reassures his love for you and vows to reassure you every single day until the rest of your lives.

And when you finally pull him in he loses balance and falls on top of you, his forehead hits your nose and just like that the house is filled up with laughter again, the onions don't make you cry anymore, the kitchen shrank and the fancy dates became late night movie marathons with you snuggled on Seungmin, or Seungmin snuggled on you, until you were far too tired to walk upstairs, leading to countless nights spent on the tiny couch and countless mornings with complaints about aching bodies but happy souls.

nets: @k-library @ficscafe @k-dinernet @districtninewriters

taglist: @dreamwrld @su-lix @bobateastay @leihey @serialee @hyunsluvv

⇢ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist ♡

#klibrary #ficscafe #kdiner #districtninewriters #seungmin x reader #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #seungmin oneshot #seungmin imagine #seungmin fanfic #stray kids scenarios

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

In your arms

Rowaelin moth - Day 15 - Bad day

This is set in the Island Dreams AU.

This fic is basically three years after the wedding scene and somewhere before the epilogue which is 5 years later.

Aelin had a bad day at the hospital and Rowan looks after her.

Aelin loved her job. A lot. When she got offered the job of senior emergency surgeon she had been ecstatic, especially after the London drama. She had many years of experience in a big trauma centre in London and a hospital on the islands would never be any close to the madness of the capital. There were days though, when a smaller sized hospital showed just how difficult it could get.

That was one of those days. She and Malcolm had been running around the A&E non stop directing the show and supervising the treatments. They had victims of a car crash happened just outside Stornoway, two different patients airlifted from two different locations with sever injuries, and on top of that the usual influx of people. Her day had got even worse when a 3 years old girl was brought in after an extreme allergic reaction to something she ate. According to the mother’s tale she had started having trouble breathing very quickly after the ingestion of the food. By the time the girl was brought in she had already been without oxygen for too long. Her heart had stopped beating soon after. Aelin had stood near the mother and tried to comfort the woman who had gone in shock herself at the sudden loss of her daughter.

Once free again she had rushed to the toilet and emptied the contents of her stomach. Then sat on the bathroom floor and cried. It did not help that she was pregnant and hormonal. The girl’s death had hit her badly.

Her two girls, Freyja and Morrigan were the same age as the girl she had lost. The idea of losing them was so painful that would just send her into a full panic attack.

And now she and Rowan had decided to give it a go and add another member to their family. After months of trying they were finally successful and they now had a boy on his way.

Slowly she made her way back into her office and plopped heavily in her chair, her head in her hands while tears still run down her cheeks.

She picked up her mobile and phoned the one person who could help her.

Rowan picked up immediately.

“Missing your husband this much?” His voice cheery, but her chest tightened and more sobs broke through.

“Aelin, are you okay?” He asked her when he heard her sobbing over the phone.

“I just…” her voice broken “I just lost a three year old girl.”

Rowan was silent for a moment probably looking at the twins who she knew were at the bookshop with him.

“How?”

Aelin sobbed once more “anaphylactic shock.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing. I just needed to hear your voice.”

A moment later she heard a girl’s voice and realised that Freyja had rushed to Rowan and now wanted to talk to her mum.

Aelin spoke to her daughter for a bit until she stated that she had to go back slaying the dragon.

“How have they been?”

Rowan chuckled “Morrigan has been playing quietly on the mat and coloured a couple of pages of her book.” He sighed “Freyja in the meantime has slain three dragons, saved a prince in distress, went on a quest to find the perfect marker and now is helping me tidy the books in the history section. If she sits down for five minutes I call it a success.”

A small chuckle left Aelin. Their daughters were identical physically, but they were complete opposite when it came to behaviour. Morrigan was like Rowan, calm and quiet. Freyja was a hurricane. Constantly moving and full of energy.

“You could have left them with my mum.”

“Ach, mo chridhe, you know I love having them in the shop. I had a busy day and Freyja just loves to charm the customer with her babbling.”

After a moment of silence Rowan spoke again “how are you two?”

Aelin’s hand went to her stomach “baby and I are fine. The nausea today is not too bad.”

“You need to take it easy.”

Aelin huffed “I worked when I was pregnant with the twins, surely I can manage with just one tenant.”

“I know, but remember what Yrene said.”

“Tha.” She replied. She had been taking Gaelic lessons for a while now, especially because they had decided to raise their daughters to be bilingual, so Aelin had been putting effort in it. But her progress had been slower than she expected and she was still very shy in showing off her language skills.

In that moment her pager went off and she groaned. It was definitely one of those days “Ro, I need to go. Give a kiss to the girls.”

“Will do.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, fireheart.”

She hung up and ran outside, ready for more drama and a shift that didn’t seem to end. Malcolm met her halfway “Accident in a farm. Crush injuries and chemical burns.”

“This day just gets better and better,” she grabbed the protective gown he passed and while walking to the the A&E she donned the gear.

***

It was later than expected when she did manage to leave the hospital. It really had been the day from hell and all she wanted to do was curl on the sofa in Rowan’s arms while watching the twins play.

She stepped in the house and was quite taken aback by the silence. Their house was never quiet.

“Rowan?” She called, while dumping her messenger bag at the entrance and shedding shoes and jacket “Ro?”

He appeared a moment later with a towel around his waist and Aelin blamed the hormones because in that moment all she wanted to do was to jump him, but with the girls around that was a treat that would have to wait.

“Taking showers without me?” Seeing him in front of her, washed away the tension and the stress of a horrible day.

Rowan opened his arms for her and Aelin crashed in his embrace, his lips kissing the crown of her head.

“Where are the girls?”

“With your mum.” He explained “I thought that after the bad day you had, you could do with some peace and quiet and some care from your husband.” He took her hand and walked upstairs to their bathroom. He opened the door and Aelin gasped. The lights were off but there were candles all around the tub, which in turn was filled with bubbles and foam and Aelin could smell her favourite bath salts.

“I just thought you and I could relax…”

Aelin threw her arms around his neck and kissed him “you really are the man of my dreams.”

He kissed her back and then his hands started to rover along her body “but first… we need to get you out of these clothes…” he whispered and turned her so that her back was against his chest. Slowly he removed her shirt and then the trousers, his hand caressing her bump that had started to show. He then unclasped her bra and soon after her knickers were gone too. Aelin turned in his arms and begged for a kiss he did not deny her.

“You are stunning.” He said softly while his lips teased her neck.

Aelin in response snorted “I will be a stranded whale again, some of the weight I gained from the twins never left me and I have horrible stretch marks. Seriously, you need glasses.”

Rowan’s kiss deepened and her legs went weak. After three years of marriage he still had that power over her.

“You are gorgeous. And those marks are proof of the amazing job you did to bring our girls into the world. They don’t bother me.”

She seemed to believe him and hugged against his chest “sorry,” a small sob broke from her lips “It was such a horrible shift today.”

“Shhh…” Rowan took her hand “nothing a bath with your husband won’t solve.”

Rowan slowly climbed in the big tub and then took her hand for her to follow him.

She sat against his chest, water lapping against her skin. She dunked her head under the water and then leaned it against his shoulder. Rowan grabbed some shampoo and slowly started massaging her scalp.

“This is perfect,” she moaned and Rowan kissed her neck, while his hand trailed down her arms in gentle caresses “just relax in my arms, I am here for you. Let me take care of you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and let the feel of him wash away the dreadful day she had. The pain, the anguish and the fears.

“Thank you for always being at my side. For being my rock.”

Rowan gently kissed her head “when I married you I promised I would be at your side in difficult times…” his hands covered her bump “You are my everything and making sure that you are fine after a dreadful shift goes under my job of husband.”

Her head turned slightly and kissed the length of his neck.

“At our wedding I also promised chocolate cake and, after we finish our bath, I have it ready for you.”

“Good,” she whispered while turning and straddling him. When they fixed up the house they got a bathtub large enough that would allow them to have some fun in it.

“Aelin…” his warning tone. She knew he was not keen on them having sex while she was pregnant, no matter how many times Yrene had told them it was okay.

“I thought you said you’d do anything to make me happy…” her hands slipped under the water and gripped him “your wife is asking you to help her forget.”

At those words he caved because knowing she was okay and happy was all he cared about.

And slowly, in her husband’s arms Aelin forgot about death and pain and only felt his love… healing.

In his arms, love pushed away all the pain.

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelinkids #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #domestic fluff #rowan x aelin

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

9 P.M. - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader Modern Day!AU

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide, painful breakup, and angst.

Words: 1991

Summary: Luke breaking up with you made your world stop turning, and when it finally starts moving again after four long months, Luke is back in typical agitator fashion.

A/N: Not requested, and I wrote this in about two hours so bear that in mind. I’ve been toying with an angst idea for a little bit now, and because all of my requests rn are fluff, I decided why not give Luke a little love since it’s been a minute since my last Luke fic. This isn’t proofread so proceed with caution.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” Dana’s voice cuts clear over the mindless chatter in the busy diner. She tucks a stack of menus under her arm to brush a loose strand of sandy blonde hair out of her face.

“I’m here to talk to Y/n. She isn’t returning my calls and she only has her phone on silent when she’s working.”

A solid four months ago, Luke Patterson had broken Y/n Y/l/n’s heart into a couple billion pieces in this very diner. After Luke requested to meet up as soon as possible, Y/n told him she’d be clocking out for the night around 9 PM, and true to his previous request Luke had arrived at 9 on the dot. He considered taking her to his car for more privacy but in fear of forgetting his long, crafted speech, he opted for a secluded booth in the very back corner of her diner.

He still remembers the evening, clear as day. They sat down across from one another on the red vinyl seats with nervous tension exponentially rising between them. He remembers the way she ruffled her loose hair after having it pulled back for an 8-hour shift. He remembers the way she rested her right ankle on her left knee to massage away the calf pain from 8 hours of waiting tables. And he remembers the way her warm smile disappeared after he uttered the words “I think we should break up.”

Y/n was so shocked she couldn’t respond. Everything seemed to be going well between them. They had said their first ‘I love you’s and she had even opened up to the possibility of giving him her virginity. And here he was, a mere week later, claiming that he had fallen out of love with her over the span of a month.

Tears clouded her vision. She was quick to wipe them away before they fell, something Luke noticed that she only did when she was crying out of anger. With her normal sadness or even stress she just lets her emotions run their course. But the anger swelling inside of her at that moment, she so desperately wanted to hide. As a result, she brushed them away. She bit her tongue. She saved face, not wanting to let Luke know just how much he had hurt her.

Luke expected a full-on interrogation. He knew Y/n’s mind was one of insatiable curiosity and she had to have at least a million questions. However, if she did, she didn’t show it. The only question she asked, “Is this really what you want?” Her voice was steady, but Luke knew how badly she wanted to tear him apart, to ravage him right then and there. But after losing such a huge part of herself, Luke, she held onto her dignity so tight it nearly crumbled into dust and blew out of her clenched fingers. Without asking for any more information, she slipped out of the booth and hurried to her car as fast as her walk could take her.

At the time, Luke felt guilty for making her cry. Now he feels guilty for ever having let her believe she wasn’t good enough for him. The only problem is she wouldn’t give him the chance. And her best friend, Dana, didn’t seem like she would give him one either.

“Well, she’s not here. Have you ever considered she’s not returning your calls when she’s off of work, too?”

“Dana, I need to talk to her-”

“What could you possibly have left to say, Luke? Whatever you said to her that night broke her, it absolutely destroyed her. She hasn’t been the same since.” Luke had no trouble believing that was true, which is why it hurt so bad to hear, granted it didn’t hurt as bad as how Y/n felt that night.

“What? No- I-I really need to talk to her.”

“You really don’t.”

“I have to get her back, Dana!” A tornado of shock and anger consumes Dana to the point where all she can do is let out a bitter laugh. The look in Luke’s eyes indicates how hurt he is by her laughter, and Dana’s desire for vengeance has never been so strong. So, she continues to tell the truth. The ferocious, unabridged, hurtful truth,

“You don’t deserve a second chance. You don’t even deserve an attempt at a second chance. Knowing her, Y/n would never tell you this, but I will: you fucked up so bad, you made her almost make the biggest mistake of her life.”

“What?” Luke almost hesitates to ask, knowing he won’t like the answer.

“That night, she came to my place and cried so hard for three hours before she could even get a coherent word out. She stayed with me for three days and, had my shift not ended early that Tuesday, she wouldn’t be alive today.” The dumbstruck look on Luke’s face is only more motivation for Dana to twist the knife, “She almost didn’t survive losing you, Luke. And god forbid she gives you a second chance because she won’t survive losing you again.”

The diner is just crowded enough that no one is paying the two of them any mind as they faceoff by the hostess stand. Dana spent four long months consoling her best friend back to life, and she was not about to let Luke destroy all the hard work Y/n had put into healing.

“I can make this right.”

“How could you possibly make this right?”

“I know more now than I did before. I’ve changed!”

“So has she.” Dana’s biting words render Luke speechless. Once she realizes her work here is done, she continues setting up tables as they’re disinfected.

__________________________

Luke’s conversation with Dana in the diner left him shellshocked, but it also lit a fire under his ass that he needed to move forward. Rather than discouraging him, Dana’s words gave him a greater incentive to win her back: proof that he was willing to do what he said he would. At least, that’s what Luke told himself. Rather than stepping into the future with greater clarity, Luke went into the world with confidence so large and blinding, his actions may sabotage his true intentions.

That’s how he found himself so determined to win Y/n back. And that’s how he found himself face to face with the front door of her home. It’s 9 PM, just early enough to where she’d be home for the day, just early enough to where she wouldn’t be asleep, and hauntingly just the exact time he had broken her heart all those months ago. Before giving his conviction a chance to back out, he was raising a steady hand to ring the doorbell of her residence.

Y/n opened the door without much thought, expecting a food delivery; she was drastically off-put by Luke’s presence at her doorstep this late.

“Oh.” Was the only response manageable for the tired waitress.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

There it was. The phrase that was a paradoxical toss-up regarding her emotional state. Half of her has been waiting for this day for so long, dreaming of the boyfriend she once knew to come genuinely heartbroken and remorseful to win her back. The other half was terrified of this impending day as she realized she wasn’t nearly as emotionally strong enough to handle the situation as she thought.

‘Oh’ was the only response manageable for the tired waitress.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please just give me five minutes and if you never want to hear from me for the rest of your life, I’ll never bother you again,” he rushes out, knowing his time is finite. For what short period of time he thought it over, Luke always imagined pouring his heart out on her front doorstep. That’s why her silent sidestep and opening of the door caught him so off guard. He hadn’t anticipated her to actually give him a decent chance. Why would she? He broke up with her in the very diner she works in full time and crushed her heart so completely, the only things left behind had to be contempt and resentment.

Luke crossed the threshold of her small, cramped LA home with his heart on his sleeve. Reluctantly closing the door behind him, Y/n walks to her living room and sits on the couch amidst a mess of popcorn, her favorite chocolates, used tissues, and a bottle of Advil. The night Luke broke up with Y/n was four months ago and she’s still spending her Friday nights alone crying on her couch with a rom-com on the tv. A sharp pang of guilt cuts through Luke’s chest like a machete and his previous confidence completely dissipates into sadness. Though, he can’t tell if it’s actually remorse or just general pity.

“What did you want to talk about?” Y/n asks as if she doesn’t know what conversation they’re about to have. Luke takes a deep breath to prepare himself as best as he can before explaining what’s been on his mind.

“I am so sorry, Y/n.” His hopes for any sort of reaction are crushed once her blank stare doesn’t waver. In spite of everything that’s happened thus far, this is the moment Luke realizes this would be a lot more difficult than he anticipated. “That night, you asked if taking a break from… us was what I really wanted.”

“I remember.”

“I said yes and you left right after that. I know you’ve blocked my socials, but you haven’t blocked my calls, you just don’t answer. I’m sure you’ve got to be interested in why, you’re a very curious person.”

Luke wasn’t wrong there, Y/n had been wondering why. She had been wondering why since the words left his mouth that night, but she repressed that curiosity. She repressed it because she knew that whatever the answer was, it didn’t make any difference. Luke wasn’t hers to have anymore and that was what really mattered.

“I did it because I thought I was falling out of love with you.”

“You thought?”

“I wasn’t actually falling out of love with you.”

“You weren’t?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you break it off?”

“I thought I was falling out of love with you but really my attraction was just changing. Instead of just spontaneous and passionate and exciting, I began to see our relationship as comforting and secure as well as those other things. I thought my comfortability was falling out of love, but really, I was falling in love. I was no longer just super infatuated with you, I was in love with you. Genuine love.”

“Luke…” Y/n trails off. She has no real idea of what it is she’s thinking so she opts to let Luke continue until she can figure it out.

“I love you, Y/n. And I broke things off because, before you, I didn’t understand love. Hell, with you I didn’t understand it was love, but now I do! I love you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“So, what does this all mean?” Luke draws in a nervous breath, identical to the one he used to soothe his nerves as he stepped into the all-too-familiar house.

“I know I don’t deserve it because of what I put you through… but all I’m asking is for a chance to prove that I really do love you.” The looking shimmering across Y/n’s eyes tells Luke how her thoughts are running wild. She’s experiencing a new train of thought at a mile a minute and it terrifies both of them.

“You hurt me, Luke. And I want to hate you so much for everything that you put me through, but I don’t, and I hate myself for that. But, I’m sorry. I can’t give you a second chance.”

***

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 3 years

Text

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27 and @girl-next-door-writes for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this.

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part)

Warnings: Absolutely none.

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh.

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all.

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight.

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me.

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer.

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started.

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is.

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris.

******

If you liked what you read, how about slamming that reblog button and help spread my work? If you leave a little comment on top of that, you’ll be in my heart forever.

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Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

#Chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans series #chris evans au #OS #chris evans fluff

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kookingtae · 3 years

Text

the equation of love (pt. 10)

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt. 10

professor yoongi x uni student reader

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 10.5k

→a/n: alternatively: fuck it, it’s been five years and this wip has been staring at me for three of them, so im just gonna post it. i have not read this over since 2018, so pls dont judge me too harshly hhsdg it’s unedited and probably a bit cringy, but then again what ch of teol isnt? this is NOT all that i have planned for the series, but i figured something is better than nothing, right? and perhaps the saying better later than never applies here, too. maybe one day i’ll finally get around to finishing it (by then im sure no one will even be around to remember what teol is lmao) but until then, enjoy what ive been sitting on! and as always, if you’re still here, thank you for your endless patience and support with this series <3

→another a/n: after this will probably be an epilogue!

→tw: mentions of blackmail, r*pe and sexual assault (we mostly just get closure on the whole professor lee & jun situation!!)

→warning: this chapter is not a happy ending, but it’s not necessarily a BAD one either, so for those who don’t like to finish on an unhappy note, it’s up to you on whether you’d like to read it or wait for the epilogue to be posted!

Running water.

It was such a simple yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it's most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried they couldn't break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

"That's it," Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

"Yoongi," I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm over it," he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. "I'm done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I'm going up to the school."

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and onto me as well, I couldn't help the trepidation that I was also filled with; Yoongi didn't have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

"Don't you think you should calm down first?" I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

"No!" Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to fucking kill her!"

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull on my old clothes and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

"Follow me up to the school," Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

"Yoongi–" I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn't speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you're not supposed to operate a vehicle while you're upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn't that I wasn't angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn't help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn't stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn't bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn't know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

"Yoongi!" I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. "Yoongi, wait!"

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor and spilling over my tastebuds, satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn't even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It's funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn't know. But either way, I didn't possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore," he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. "Let them see. The only thing I care about is you."

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi's words and embrace. "I love you," I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. "Let's go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi's stride towards the school's building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

The seminar room was empty of students when we stormed in. Seats were placed throughout the floor, papers were scattered on the desks, and Professor Lee was at the front of the room, fiddling with the cords from the projector screen.

At the sound of the door opening, her head snapped up. "Well well well, look what we have here," she smirked when she saw us, making no plans to move as she saw me marching over to her. "You know, I really don't think–"

Slap!

The impact of my palm to her face cut off her words, skin on skin contact crackling through the room and echoing into a deafening silence.

Professor Lee gasped, immediately grasping where a red mark was now forming on her cheek before looking up at me with wild eyes. "You just slapped me!" She cried in disbelief.

"You're damn right I did," I gritted my teeth, taking a threatening step towards her and raising my palm. "Want me to do it again?"

It was then that I felt Yoongi's hand on my back, the feeling having an instant calming effect over my senses whether he wanted it to or not. I sighed before visibly relaxing and lowering my hand.

"You're barbaric!" Professor Lee was foaming at the mouth, still holding her face with a slack jaw. "Are you forgetting that I'm a professor? When Dr. Kim finds out about this, I swear he'll–"

"Tell him!" I roared as loud as my vocal chords would let me. "Tell whoever, tell the whole world, I don't fucking care! I'm done with your bullshit, you selfish psychotic witch!"

With that I gave her one final shove against her shoulders, and when both of her hands flew out to grab ahold her surroundings in an effort to keep from falling over, I planted another slap right across her face. The impact stung my hand, but I didn't care. Seeing Professor Lee stumble through the air was worth it.

"Baby," Yoongi spoke in a gentle yet warning tone next to me, and I had almost forgotten he was there until I felt his grip slightly tighten around my waist. It was a comforting hold, as if to say he completely trusted and supported whatever I chose to do in this situation, but still a protective hold nonetheless. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself hurt.

"You know, what is your problem, exactly?" I tilted my head at her as she struggled to get her bearings straight. "Is there an actual reason you're doing all of this, or are you just mentally insane?"

"It–it's not right!" Professor Lee stuttered with wide eyes, raising a shaky finger to point at me and Yoongi. "Your relationship, it's–"

"Oh cut the bullshit, Sara," Yoongi let out a sound of disgust from beside me. "We all know that's not why."

"I... I..." she stumbled for words, wide eyes glancing back and forth between the two of us. "Who do you guys think you are? You can't just storm in here and start attacking me–"

I took a menacing step forward, pure rage making up for what I lacked in intimidation. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I fumed, reaching out to grab her again.

"No, please!" She suddenly cowered before I could get to her, shielding her head away from me with her arms. "I—Yoongi, I'm in love with you!"

Her confession sent me reeling backwards in a downwards spiral, my body instantly going limp as I watched her with a dumbfounded expression. A vast silence echoed throughout the room that could be cut with a knife before she finally spoke again.

"Ever since you started working here, I knew you were the one. I just knew it." Her voice was sad, exhausted now, and a look of defeat washed over her features.

"What?" Yoongi gaped in disbelief. "Sara, that was two years ago!"

"I know!" She spat harshly. "You don't think I know that? For two years, I had to deal with this silly crush I had on you. I had to spend every day with you, watching it bloom into love overtime, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"You could've just told me!" Yoongi exclaimed as if that was the obvious answer.

Professor Lee snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, and be made a fool of? No thanks." She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Sara, we're grown adults. You could've acted like one and fucking said something to me about it, made a move, anything but drag my career under the bus!" Yoongi's voice was strained now, his eyes wide as if silently begging her to understand him while he was equally trying to understand her.

"I was going to!" She lashed out again while whipping her head up towards him. "I was working up the courage to ask you out on a date, and then I see that fucking slut on your lap and I–"

"Don't you dare call Y/N that," Yoongi suddenly growled, pushing past me and stepping towards her intimidatingly. "One more thing out of your mouth about her and I swear to god I will kill you right here, right now."

My breath hitched in my throat at his threat and I couldn't help but weave my arm around his to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing tightly. He gripped mine back even tighter, as if he was desperately trying to latch onto whatever calming effect I seemed to have over him.

Professor Lee swallowed, choosing to stay silent and watch him carefully as jagged breaths rose and fell from her chest. "The point is," she continued on, "I saw you with someone else—someone who wasn't me. And that completely tore my heart to shreds."

"So the only solution is to ruin our lives," I chimed in sarcastically.

"I may not have gone about it the best way," she quickly gritted her teeth and shot me a glare before turning her attention back to Yoongi, "but I had to act on instinct. I still wanted to be with you, so I figured that maybe if I split the two of you up, you would have no one else to turn to but me."

Yoongi just stared at her, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Do you know how sick and twisted that is?" He asked.

"All I ever wanted was to be with you, Yoongi," she pleaded, her tone vulnerable now as she took a tentative step towards him and started to raise her hand up to caress his cheek. "I still do. It's not too late; we can leave now, just you and me and forget this whole thing–"

"Don't fucking touch me," he knocked her hand away with his forearm just before it could reach his face. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're even crazier than I thought." He then stepped back to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me securely into his side. "I'm in love with Y/N, and I don't give a shit what rumors you or anyone else wants to spread about it. You're fucking pathetic."

At that moment there was the sound of a door bursting open, causing the three of us to turn our attention to the entrance of the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Dr. Kim.

The sight of him immediately deflated the elation I was feeling from Yoongi's words, instantly replacing them with a sense of anxiety and fear that lodged its way into my throat until I was sure I would die from suffocation. This was it; according to the text from Professor Lee, he had already seen the picture of me and Yoongi kissing. This was the moment that would decide our future forever.

I just hoped we had enough evidence against Professor Lee for him to take our side.

"So let me get this straight." Dr. Kim folded his hands on the dark oak wood of his office desk. "Professor Min and Y/N had relations before Y/N became a student here, while Yoongi was unaware of her age?"

"Yes sir," Yoongi nodded his head in assurance.

"And then you continued your relationship, even after finding out that she was your student."

"He didn't at first," I interjected in hopes of getting some of the heat off of Yoongi. "He tried to call it off, but I kept pushing it. The reason we got back together during school was my fault, not his."

Yoongi's eyes met mine from the chair next to me, his gaze seeming to hold the words that silently spoke that's not true, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. In actuality, he had been the one to give me after-school tutoring on that Saturday during the homecoming football game, not I. He had been the one to kiss me first that day. But there was no way in hell I would ever tell that to the dean.

"I don't care whose fault it is; all that matters is that it happened," Dr. Kim frowned. "And it's still happening if I'm not mistaken, correct?"

"I... um," my eyes flickered to Yoongi, every fiber of my being starting to fill with panic. Shit, we should've discussed this beforehand. I wasn't going to willingly rat Yoongi out, no matter how many times he's said he didn't care anymore if people knew about us.

Suddenly I felt the warm, soft sensation of skin wrapping around the curvature of my hand that was resting atop the wooden armrest. "Yes, it's still happening," Yoongi spoke, and then his fingers were intertwining with mine.

I practically choked on my own spit at his words; did this boy have a death wish? A cough came sputtering out of my lungs, the sound causing everyone in the room to look at me until I'd settled down. Even Professor Lee leaned forward from her seat on the other side of Yoongi, bewilderment written all over her expression as she gave me a look of disgust.

"Well there's your proof right there." She threw her hands up in defeat before gesturing to the two of us. "What more do you need? Expel them, Dr. Kim."

"B–but that's not it!" I suddenly exclaimed and lurched forward, feeling the heat of everyone's stare on our embraced hands, which in turn only made me grip him even harder for support. "Dr. Kim, you have to believe me when I tell you that Professor Lee has worked hard to make my life a living hell ever since I got to this school. She had a vendetta against me; she's in love with Yoongi, and so she–"

"That's not true!" Professor Lee screeched.

"She worked to turn people against us rather than coming to you because she wanted to blackmail Yoongi into being with her," I ignored her interjection and continued. "She even made a seminar about it—the mandatory seminar that everyone attended today!"

The dean turned his attention towards her. "The seminar about the importance of practicing safe sex?" He questioned in bewilderment.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words; that's what she was telling everyone it was about?

"It was!" She scrambled in defense. "I mean I... I may have brought up Yoongi and Y/N as an example, but that's only because they fit the part! Y/N had a pregnancy scare not too long ago, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to our students!"

I felt the color draining from my face, blanching it a stone cold white and decimating any feeling I had left in my body.

How the fuck did she know about the pregnancy?

My head instantly whipped towards Yoongi to see if he had any logical explanation for this, and his face was as poised and stoic as ever in front of his two colleagues—but I could see through it. I knew him well enough to catch onto the slightest falter in his blinking, the increase in heat that collected between our palms, the small twitch of his mouth that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else who observed him. I knew there was no way he could've told Professor Lee about the pregnancy, because he was just as blindsided as I was.

Dr. Kim simply raised his eyebrows in interest before turning back to Yoongi and me.

"Dr. Kim," Yoongi spoke, his voice dripping with amusement, "I mean no disrespect, but do you honestly think that if Y/N had a pregnancy scare, we would tell Sara about it? Come on; not after all she did to us."

"They—they didn't tell me!" Professor Lee huffed out a desperate breath. "I overheard them while I was–"

"While you were what?" I interrupted with a raise of my eyebrow. "While you were spying on us to find any blackmail you could use on Yoongi?"

"N–no!" She stuttered, though at this point it was obvious that she was making up lies on the spot. "While I was walking past the classroom!"

"Why would we be talking about that with the door open?!"

"Enough!" Dr. Kim barked, his deep voice rumbling throughout the small office. We all grew silent as we turned our attention to him. "There will be no arguing of he said/she said in my office," he scolded, then turned his attention to Yoongi before speaking. "I understand that there was someone you wanted me to see?"

Yoongi, who had remained calm during all of this, simply nodded his head before releasing my hand. "Yes, sir," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door.

My eyebrows were knitted in confusion as I watched it all transpire: the words exchanged between the two men, Yoongi rising out of his seat, the sight of my biology professor being revealed behind the closed door. The whole thing came as a surprise to me, and my emotions seemed to be having a war between the shock and relief that I felt raging like a storm in the pit of my stomach.

Why didn't Yoongi tell me about Professor Park being involved in this discussion? When did he have time to ask her to come? Did it even matter at this point?

"Professor Park," Dr. Kim widened his eyes, his frame physically reclining back in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As am I to be here," she smiled though her voice was venomous, eyes flashing to a very alarmed Professor Lee.

"Mia?!" The woman barked in disbelief at her friend's entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Professor Park replied, and with that she turned towards the dean and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm here to testify on the behalf of Min Yoongi and Y/N."

Earth-shattering elation rippled through me from the inside out, starting at the base of my toes and spiraling to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers, causing them to tingle and buzz with a newfound sense of hope. We might actually have a chance!

"What?!" Professor Lee's voice ripped through the air in a deafening screech. "This isn't a court case! You don't get to play witness!"

"Actually, if Professor Park has witnessed anything, I would definitely like to know," Dr. Kim chimed in, raising an eyebrow towards my biology professor.

Professor Park nodded her head towards him in appreciation before speaking. "A few months ago Sara approached me in my classroom to tell me about the nasty rumors that were surrounding her and a student. She singled the student out, saying to purposely damage their grades because they were treating her unfairly and disrespecting her rules and authority as a professor; she even went so far as to say that they were sending her death threats"

"What?!" The word ripped from my throat faster than I could blink as I stared jaw-dropped at the women in the room.

"That's not true!" Professor Lee instantly protested as expected. "Sir, I can assure you that I never–"

"I have the text messages if you want," Professor Park offered in a tone so nonchalant one would've thought she was conversing about the weather.

Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Text messages? I thought you said she came by your class?"

"She did, sir." Mia interlaced her fingers in front of her and bowed her head politely. "We spoke about it on multiple occasions. I asked why she wouldn't just go to you, or even the authorities if the student was making death threats, but Sara was adamant. She didn't want any scandals revolving around her so that she could maintain the level of professionalism that she had developed here."

I heard a snort coming from next to me, and it was with a swollen heart of pride that I realized the sound came from Yoongi trying to hold in a laugh.

Professionalism? Her? I had never heard anything so far fetched in my life.

Sara simply glared as Mia ignored him and continued. "She assured me that the best way to deal with this pesky student was to slowly start to fail them, and I'll admit, I was angry for her. Sara was my friend, and I respected her enough to believe what she was telling me and follow her requests." She turned her head to where I sat on the other side of Yoongi. "That student was you, Y/N. And I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for the way I handled things. You were treated unfairly and poorly due to false information."

"It wasn't false!" Professor Lee jumped in to defend herself, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even the dean could tell she was playing the part of the boy who cried wolf at this point.

"I'd like to see those text messages, if you don't mind." Dr. Kim reached his hand out expectantly.

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Park nodded and tapped away on her phone before handing it to him. His cold and calculated eyes scanned the screen while saying nothing, all three of us waiting with bated breath for him to come to a decision in his mind.

There was no where left for her to run. With these text messages, all the constant denying that Professor Lee has done will be proven false and she will be exposed for all the hell she's put me through this semester. My heart was practically bursting at the thought.

"Well I would've appreciated it if you ladies had come to me with this information instead of handling it amongst yourselves, true or not," Dr. Kim finally sighed before giving Sara his full attention. "Ms. Lee, you have three people accusing you. Even if you didn't do it, there's obviously something that's turning them against you. And here at this university we strive to hold cooperation and communication above all else. If you don't get along with the fellow staff here, then why should I believe that they're the problem and not you?"

"Um, because Min Yoongi is fucking his student?!" Professor Lee was fuming now, her upper body lurching forward in her seat and her hands gripping the arm rests for dear life. "He literally just admitted to it!"

"Language, Ms. Lee," Dr. Kim scolded calmly. "I still like to maintain a professional attitude here in my office."

"I apologize sir, but that's beside the point." She was sitting back in her seat now, though her tone was no less frantic. "Min Yoongi is in a relationship with his student, and staff cooperation or not, I don't really think that's in the teacher handbook." She raised a snarky eyebrow at us as if believing that she had finally won.

I knitted my eyebrows, my palms feeling slick with a nervous sweat against Yoongi's as I realized the bigger problem here. It wasn't whatever lies and schemes Professor Lee had cooked up with my biology teacher; it wasn't even Professor Lee herself. It was the fact that Yoongi and I were in a relationship, and that was going to have enough consequences alone to shake me to my very core with fear.

"She's right," Dr. Kim uttered the words that I was silently hoping he wouldn't say, my grip tightening on Yoongi as I anticipated whatever outcome he's decided. Our fate was in his hands.

"Of course I am." Professor Lee crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." He was shaking his head, frowning at us apologetically though the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Min, I am sorry to inform you that you will have to be forced to resign from our university."

The color instantly drained from my face, and with it pulling all five senses that I have into the depths of the earth until I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak—I could barely even breathe. There was a lump that was forming in my throat and settling deep within my gut, all of this feeling fake, too fake to be real.

Yoongi was fired, and it was all because of me.

"I understand, sir."

It was Yoongi's words that were pulling me from my fog of disbelief and devastation, my eyes blinking in an effort to snap back to reality as I looked from him to the dean. "No. No, there has to be something we can do, please!" I begged, my voice starting to get frantic the more the severity of the situation hit me. "I–I'll drop out! You don't have to worry about me ever coming near here again, just please, please don't fire him!"

"Y/N..." Yoongi's voice was quiet and full of resignation, defeat, but I wasn't giving up.

"Yoongi is an amazing professor who has worked here for, what, two years? He's extraordinary at what he does and students love him. It's not easy to find a professor like that everyday." I was staring into the eyes of the dean now, trying to move him with my words. "You shouldn't throw away someone as great as him just because of some stupid 18 year old's mistake! Please, Dr Kim." I leaned forward in my seat, the room silent as I spoke. "He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. Please, let me suffer the consequences, not him."

I continued to stare in Dr. Kim's eyes, silently channeling my emotions through the pleading expression in my eyes, and it wasn't until I felt a comforting hand on my back that I was instantly drawn away into a more calm state in my chair. I gazed over at the owner of the hand, and he flashed back that smile I loved except it was sad, and it didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say to me right now if we weren't in the confinement of his boss' office.

"I understand your efforts, Y/N, but there's nothing I can do." Dr. Kim shook his head, and it was as if the world around me was shattering into blades of glass, scraping at my skin and leaving bloody wounds that I knew would never heal. "Mr. Min was involved in this relationship as well, and no matter whose fault it is, the professor needs to be held accountable. There is a level of professionalism and maturity that he must possess in order to work here; he's your superior, a respectable authority figure, and so he should've known better."

It was all I could do to keep from crying as I lowered my eyes and shook my head, every inch of my heart breaking for Yoongi until all that was left were tiny fragments to scatter in the wind. I couldn't believe I'd done this to him. The very thing he'd been worried about from the start—I had ruined his career.

"It is our goal as a university to see our students succeed," he continued, though I could barely hear a thing. "As for you, Y/N, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't keep attending this university."

I blinked a few times, confused. "You want me to... what?"

"You will have a suspension on your student records, mind you, and one more of those will lead to expulsion," he explained. "Though that doesn't mean that you can't keep going to school here. You will have to meet with an advisor every two weeks, though, who will be keeping a close watch on your behavior."

I could barely even believe my ears; had my hearing been completely lost due to the shock of the situation? "That's totally a double standard!" I gestured to Yoongi in disbelief.

"Y/N, it's okay..." Yoongi tried to calm me down.

"No, it's not okay!" I roared, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as I glanced at him before turning back to the dean. "Where do you think you can get off by treating people like this? This is his career—his life!"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Y/N," Dr. Kim bellowed in a stern voice as he frowned. "I'm doing you a favor here by letting you continue your education. Speak out against me one more time and I will be revoking that offer."

His words were deafening throughout the office; it was suddenly understandable why he was so feared by those who worked under him. Yoongi started to run his hand along my spine in a soothing manner, and though it helped relax my fiery nerves and clear my foggy mind, I was still just as upset—if not more, now that the information was beginning to settle in.

"So that's it then?" Professor Lee spoke for the first time in a while, her lips pressed into a firm line, obviously disappointed by the turn of events though she didn't dare to speak out against Dr. Kim as he had warned. "Yoongi gets fired and Y/N gets a free ride?"

"Not so fast, Ms. Lee." The dean turned to her. "What you did was beyond unprofessional. You violated several school policies as well as bullied a student! Do you think that type of behavior is acceptable as a professor?"

Professor Lee opened her mouth as if to protest before slowly shutting it again, realizing that she had nothing left that she hadn't already denied. It was obvious that the evidence given to him by Professor Park, who stood silent in the corner of the room, was incriminating enough to sway his decision.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be fired as well."

"What?!" Her shrill voice screeched through the air, tearing whatever I had left of my eardrums and rendering me deaf here in this office. "What I did was no where near as bad as Yoongi and Y/N!"

"If anything, it was worse." Dr. Kim folded his hands over his desk. "Let's not forget that you managed to involve the entire student body in a false seminar that maliciously exposed one of our students and professors," he raised an eyebrow at her, "and that was just today."

"Yeah, not to mention all the other shit you did behind my back to make my life a living hell," I couldn't help from interjecting in a heated tone, though I backed off upon seeing the dean's stern gaze.

He redirected his attention back to Sara. "Here at this university, we strive to have a professional relationship, safe environment, and healthy lifestyle for our students. Neither of you achieved those three goals, so both of you will have to be let go."

Yoongi's expression simply remained placid and free of any emotion while Professor Lee's reaction was practically visceral, though neither spoke a word as heavy silence fell over the small office.

"Am I... am I still needed, sir?" It was Professor Park whose voice broke through the tension, everyone having forgotten she was there in the midst of the emotion-filled chaos. "Because if not, then I'm going to go."

"No, I'm just about finished here." Dr. Kim let out a sigh, as if what just transpired had been hard on him out of all people in the room. My blood boiled just looking at him, though I know I had to learn when to speak out and when to bite my tongue as Yoongi had taught me.

"Dr. Kim, is there any way you can reconsi–"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Lee," his booming voice interrupted the frantic professor. "I've said all that I need to say on the matter. I'm not changing my mind."

"Dr. Kim?" I spoke up just as Professor Lee and Professor Park were getting ready to walk out the door. "I–I have something else to tell you. Un-related to this," I threw in when I saw him throw a glance in Lee's direction.

The man sighed before waving them out, leaving his office empty of visitors other than me and Yoongi in the chairs. I wasn't going to let that boy go anywhere.

"Y/N, I'm sorry that the outcome isn't exactly what you wanted but I'm afraid there's nothing I can–"

"Choi Junwoo tried to rape me," I blurted out.

There was a moment's pause as the dean was stunned silent with wide eyes, and out of my peripheral vision I could see Yoongi tense up and inhale sharply next to me.

"W–what–"

"Choi Junwoo," I spoke slowly for him so that he'd understand, "a student here at this university, tried to rape me at a frat party."

I couldn't leave the office without saying it. I couldn't leave the office without telling him. This wasn't just about me or the turmoil or trauma he caused; this was for every other girl in the future who might be a victim of Jun. Though in my heart I truthfully believed he was a good person, and that he really was just intoxicated beyond belief that night, it was still no excuse. If he had rape-tendencies while he was drunk and I didn't speak out about it, then I would be no better when it came to helping other sexual assault victims.

"Are you sure–"

"I found them at the party while he was mid-act," Yoongi jumped in, probably figuring he was already fired so there was nothing left for him to lose when it came to revealing details about our relationship outside of school. "It was... disgusting. I got her out of there immediately, but not before punching that bastard in the face."

"Metaphorically, of course!" I couldn't help but chime in, not wanting an assault charge to be on his record as well.

Thankfully Dr. Kim simply brushed off that minuet detail in favor for the more important issue at hand. "Y/N, what you're telling me will ruin this student's future. Are you absolutely sure you want to file this?"

Despite the anger that swelled up inside of me from him questioning my accusation, I still couldn't help the little trickle of doubt that crept in as I considered his words. At one point, Jun had been a friend... maybe even a potential lover had Yoongi not been in the picture. Dr. Kim was right, this information could potentially ruin his reputation, his education, his record... was I ready to carry the weight of knowledge that I've ruined someone's life forever?

"What are you talking about? Of course!" Yoongi spat an answer before I even had a chance to finish my thoughts. "She told you what happened, didn't she? Why would she speak out about something like this if she was making it up?"

"Maybe a personal vendetta?" The dean shrugged his shoulders. "People will do crazy things for revenge."

Now that got me heated. "The only one who wanted revenge here was Junwoo!" I stood up from my seat to yell. "He liked me and was mad that I turned him down. As if I owed my feelings to him or something! And when I told him no, he forced himself on me?! Is that really the type of message you want to send at this college? You know, since you're so high and mighty on "cooperation"," I did air quotes of sarcasm around my last words, my ears practically steaming with boiling rage.

"We will come out about this story, by the way," Yoongi added in, his voice full of venom. "And how will that look if you tried to keep us silent?"

"You can forget about me attending this university," I hissed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, the both of you," Dr. Kim lowered his hands in a calming manner. "I was not suggesting I buy your silence or anything of that nature. I was simply making sure you wanted to go through with this."

"Yes," Yoongi and I both answered in unison.

The dean nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Alright."

The rest of the time in the office with spent filling on paperwork on a claim against Junwoo. I'd been given the option to be kept in the loop or even present when everything went down, though I politely declined. I wanted nothing more to do with that boy.

Though it would seem Professor Lee didn't share the same sentiment when it came to me, because as soon as soon as the two of us walked hand in hand into the hallway and Dr. Kim's door was securely shut, she sprung into action.

"You bitch!" She shrieked, not wasting another second as she leaped through the air and onto my body like a crouched tiger that was waiting for the right moment to attack. I felt the pressure of her weight against my chest and the sting of her nails scraping against my cheek, and before I knew it I was stumbling down, down onto the ground with another vicious blow to my jaw that was accompanied by her fist.

It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it wasn't long until I heard Yoongi yell Sara! and then her weight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes as Yoongi slammed her shoulders back against the wall, though it was the look in his eyes that caught my attention. I had seen that expression before.

He was about to throw a punch.

"Yoongi, stop!" I cried, summoning all the strength I possessed to push myself to my feet and stumble over to the pair.

Yoongi whipped his head towards me with exasperated, almost wild eyes and his brows knitted in confusion and disbelief. "Y/N, she attacked you!"

"She isn't worth it," I spoke firmly in an attempt to get through to him. "Yoongi, just let it go. She isn't worth the trouble anymore."

It was when I placed a soothing hand against his back that Yoongi finally sighed, his stance visibly relaxing and his hands dropping from Professor Lee's shoulders. "She's right," he spit in a low, venomous tone as he turned back to her and grit his teeth. "Thanks to Dr. Kim, you already got what you deserve."

"Yoongi," there were sudden sobs that were tearing through the hallway, and it took me a moment to realize that Professor Lee was now... crying.

"Yoongi," she continued as she clung onto his shoulders. "Yoongi, I loved you!"

Somewhere deep inside of me, past all the burning hatred for what this woman has done to my life out of pure jealousy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. This was once me, heartbroken over the effects of unrequited love. Yoongi was a very sought-after man, I'd come to realize, and it wasn't about my feelings or Professor Lee's or anyone else's. It was about his.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed, and there was almost a wince in his tone from how hard he was trying to make her understand. "It's over."

"W–what?" The woman was scrambling now. "It doesn't have to be! We can go back to the way things were–"

"There never was a ‘we’!" He ripped her hands from his shoulders. "We were friends, and then you sabotaged my career and Y/N's education. You never once spoke out about your feelings, came forward, handled things like adults," he stressed the last line. "You never once did any of those things! Instead you belittled another woman and cost yourself your job all for a man—someone who until now, was your friend." Yoongi sighed again and shook his head. "I hope you get the help you need, Sara. I'm sure there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally... but that person is not me."

And with that, he put a gentle hand on my back and we walked away.

“Oh my god.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth the second we exited the building, my hands resting on my head in disbelief as I turned to Yoongi. “Holy shit, Yoongi–“

“Shhh,” he instantly consoled me, his arms engulfing me in a comforting hug and my face tucking underneath his chin as he held me close. “We did it, Y/N. It’s all over.”

I stayed in his embrace for a few moments as his words sunk in. It was all over. No more secrets, no more Professor Lee—no more anything.

“B–but your job...” I pulled away to look up at him with a shaky tone, my brows furrowed in concern. “Dr. Kim fired you, he–“

“I resigned, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I couldn’t help but look up at him with a hopeless expression.

Yoongi simply nodded his head, the picture of nonchalance as if his career hadn’t just changed forever. “Yes. If I had gotten fired, it would look terrible on my resumé should I apply for another teaching position. However, given the circumstances of our arrangement...” he paused, no doubt thinking of Professor Lee, “I suppose he decided to take it easy on us all.”

My shoulders deflated in relief. “Well thank god for that...” I sighed, not even wanting to think of what could’ve happened if Dr. Kim had given us the harshest punishment. In an ironic, twisted way, I suppose I have Professor Lee to thank for that. If she wouldn’t have made my life a living hell, it would’ve been that much worse if Dr. Kim ever found out on his own.

“But none of that even matters to me right now,” Yoongi suddenly snapped, and then in the time it took me to raise an questioning eyebrow he had already grabbed both sides of my face and rammed his lips into mine, the same as he did before we went inside to confront Professor Lee.

Only this time, the kiss was different. It didn’t hold promises and potential; it held freedom. It held the success of finally getting through everything by the skin of our teeth, the relief and the pride and the pure love that we have for each other after overcoming everything that we’ve been through together. I kissed him and I didn’t care who saw—because he wasn’t my professor anymore. There were no invisible chains that bounded us apart. It was just me and him sticking together against all odds. Never in my life did I think I would ever be a part of a relationship so committed, so passionate, so determined. He and I would never stop fighting for each other.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” I murmured against his mouth with a grin on my features that was hard to disguise—especially when I felt the corners of his lips pull up into that gummy smile that I adored with all of my heart.

“God, I love you too, Y/N,” he replied back with a content sigh, and then he continued to kiss me on the busy campus sidewalk until we were both breathless and blue in the face.

Because we now had nothing to lose.

Despite finally being released from the clutches that school had on us, the days following the meeting with Dr. Kim were not easy.

Other than having to put on a fake smile and continue attending a university where practically everyone knew about my relationship with now-former Professor Min (my mother would never let me drop out—not that I could ever tell her the reason I'd want to, anyways), there were the stresses that Yoongi was dealing with of now being unemployed. And what with all but abandoning my dorm room to instead spend my nights with him at his apartment, it was impossible to not feel the weight of his problems on my shoulders as well. No matter how many times Yoongi tried to put up a façade and reassure me that he was okay, I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault.

"If I just never would've made you dance with me at that club..." I'd say at times, unable to keep from tracing back each and every one of our interactions and blaming myself.

"Cut that out," Yoongi would snap.

"What? It's true!"

"You know I don't like it when you talk like that!" He'd turn to me with a stern tone. "I don't regret anything that happened between us, okay? Not one single bit." There was a heavy silence as his words would hang in the air. "If you wouldn't have asked me to dance, then who knows if I ever would've worked up the courage to kiss you? And I wouldn't be here, sharing this bed with the love of my life."

"Aw, Yoongi..."

And the two of us would make love, again and again until we'd have a similar argument some time later and repeat the whole process all over again. I'd feel guilty, Yoongi would remind me of exactly how much he doesn't regret meeting me, and we'd get lost in each other's embrace.

That is, until a simple Sunday morning suddenly changed everything.

"I got it."

I casually peered over at the sound of him from my spot in the living room, sitting criss crossed on the couch in my pajamas with a laptop in my lap. "What?"

"The job." Yoongi's voice was low, serious as he stared at the paper in his hands that had previously been so carelessly disregarded on the kitchen island along with the Sunday paper. "At the university in Seoul."

"Wait." He had all of my attention now as I sat the laptop on the coffee table and rose to my feet. "Like the Seoul National University university?"

"Yeah," he let out a single chuckle of disbelief before he pressed the paper against the counter and turned to me. "I got the job."

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" I exclaimed with my own chuckle of disbelief before running forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms immediately engulfed my waist and lifted me off the ground as we spun around in place, my lips instantly finding his in a searing kiss that was full of passion and excitement to match our current mood. "That's amazing!"

"I know," he replied as he placed me down. A tentative smile was frozen on his lips as he stared off into the distance before letting out another sound of disbelief, his head shaking before his palm slid down his face. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm so proud of you!" I mirrored the grin of pure elation on his features, my chest swelling with joy and relief and most of all, pride.

I was so, so proud of Yoongi. I knew how much his job meant to him, and the feeling of guilt that weighed down on me from knowing that I was the one who inadvertently took that away from him, that I was the one who inadvertently caused all this stress of job hunting was instantly lifted off my shoulders. I knew how much he wanted this. I knew how hard he had worked to get this job at such a prestigious school, and god damn it, I knew how much he deserved it. If Yoongi was anything, apart from being an amazing person and a wonderful lover, he was great at his job. He was a natural born teacher.

Though no matter how many times I've willingly showered him with endless compliments about his work, he'd blush sheepishly and simply swat away all of my words with a simple kiss, or an "if you don't shut up your food is going to get cold. We're unemployed now; we need all the nutrition we can get. Haven't you ever heard of the Great Depression?"

So instead, I just chose to beam at him while he basked in the euphoria of the moment that this job acceptance brought on. After all, I knew he was well aware of how proud of him I was and how supportive I'd always be when it came to anything he wanted to accomplish.

Though the bliss was short lived.

I watched as Yoongi's expression slowly fell, the smile on his face slipping into a deep frown and his eyes turning to stone. "No."

"What?" I furrowed my brows, concern filling me and etching onto my features as I cupped his cheek in my hand, trying to figure out why his mood had changed so suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not taking it." His tone was cold, definitive, as if the subject wasn't even up for debate as he grabbed the letter.

"Wait wait wait," I hurried to stop him from tearing it in half. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

He turned to look at me with cold, incredulous eyes, as if he couldn't believe I was even asking a question so stupid. "The university is in Seoul, Y/N."

"Okay...?" I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding what the issue was. "And?"

"I'd have to move." He was taking the paper back out of my hands and ripping it right down the middle before I got the chance to stop him.

I suddenly deflated, the severity of his words dropping in my stomach and wrapping around the anchor of my heart, sending it down, down, down through the floor of his apartment and hurdling towards the center of the earth.

"...What?"

"I'd have to move away from you."

And there is was, the bomb detonating an explosion and demolishing whatever was left of my heart.

"No... t–there has to be another way, there has to–"

"Seoul is hours away from here, Y/N," Yoongi barked out, his tone angry and harsh as it always was when he was upset. "It's on the other side of the country; there's no way I'd be able to commute without living there."

"Okay, so why did you apply then?" I couldn't help but snap back defensively. "You knew the distance to Seoul prior to applying for the job. Why even bother if you're just going to get pissed about not taking it?!"

"Because I didn't think I'd get accepted!" His voice was loud, almost yelling now. "It's the most sought after, prestigious school in the fucking country and I didn't think some young idiot who got fired from his last job would be able to get in!"

It was silent as his words settled over the atmosphere, clinging to the air that filled the room around us and encasing my lungs until it was impossible to breathe.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally hissed. "You're a great teacher, and you know it. If anyone's a young idiot here, it's me!"

Yoongi scoffed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one who kissed you again during that tutoring session after telling you to stay away. I'm the one who fucked you against that desk." His tone was low now, and his eyes seemed to grow harder in realization with each step that he took towards me. "I'm the one who asked to take you out on that fucking date and I'm the one who pulled you onto my lap when Sara caught us in my classroom! God damn it, I'm the one who tracked you down at a fucking frat party and punched one of my students!"

His voice slowly raised until he was yelling again, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was now standing chest to chest and cornering me up against the countertop of the island, I would've winced at the loud volume so close to my ears.

"Stop blaming yourself, Y/N, when I'm the one who was the authority figure. I'm the one who should've had my shit together, but I just couldn't around you!"

I felt myself soften at that. As angry and intimidating as he seemed right now, surely frightening whoever would come into contact with him when he was like this, I knew that it was all a front. Yoongi wasn't the best at dealing with emotional situations—he'd all but bite my head off any time I even tried to mention his father—and sometimes lashed out in anger when he was upset or hurting inside. I knew how badly he wanted this job; I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he'd first submitted the application. And now, when the career position of his dreams was finally right under his nose, he couldn't have it. Because I was holding him back.

"You have to take it." My voice was solemn and steady as I stared him in the eyes.

He instantly frowned. "What? No, I–"

"Yoongi."

He fell silent, all signs of anger and malice wiped from his features once he saw just how serious I was being. A soft, bittersweet smile that had nothing to do with happiness slowly tugged at my lips as my eyes gleamed with pain. My heart was breaking with every word I was speaking, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

"You have to take the job."

The silence that ensued my words only further proved my point, simultaneously stabbing a knife into my chest with each passing second. He knew I was right. He knew it. He just didn't want to hear it.

"You don't..." He sounded smaller, more pitiful and confused as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. "You don't want me to stay?"

The hurt, the sadness, the utter hopelessness in his voice absolutely crushed me. I couldn't help but fall into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly as if I could somehow hold the pieces of him together that I knew were breaking. The severity of what was happening, of what I was doing started to settle within me the moment I heard his voice break.

"I do, baby," I replied, the sound muffled by the skin of his neck that my face was buried in as a sob threatened to claw its way out of my throat and swallow me whole. "God, you know I do. But you can't."

"Y–you can come with me." He was shaking his head now, his hands gripping at the shirt on my back with closed fists while he desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I would disappear beneath him at any moment. "We can move together to Seoul and you can–"

"You know I can't, Yoongi." It was my turn to shake my head, and with it came a heavy tear that fell down my cheek. "I have to go to school. I have a family who's helping pay for my tuition, and my mom— you know it's not all up to me."

I heard him sniffle as he pulled away, and even though I felt no evidence of tears from him against my skin or my shirt, his eyes were bright red when he stared back at me.

"I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

The sheer determination in his voice had me shattering like broken glass. "I'm not letting you do this, Yoongi. I'm not letting you waste this opportunity. Do you know how many people are waiting to work at Seoul University? How many professors would kill to be in your position?" I kept my gaze steadily on his as I slowly shook my head. "I care about you... so fucking much. I've never loved someone so much before... not like this." I paused, asking myself one last time if this was really the decision I wanted to make as my words settled in. I took in the sight of his beautiful, breathtaking features silently begging me not to do this. "I'm putting you above my selfishness," I finally decided with another shake of my head. "You need to do this Yoongi, for you. You know you do."

Yoongi slowly shook his head, though the expression on his face told me he knew I was right. "I don't want to lose you," he spoke as a tear spilled over the brim of his eye, dampening his lashes and leaving a wet streak in its wake as it rolled down his cheek, and the sight was the final breaking point that had me bursting into tears.

"Neither do I."

His fingers dug into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body, his forehead leaning against mine as the only sounds exchanged between the two of us were the unspoken words of labored breaths and soft sobs.

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do what's best for them.

And I knew this was what's best for Yoongi.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #lmao why am i so impulsive #i decided i was gonna post this all of ten minutes ago and here we are #anyways this will help my peace of mind to know that at least SOMETHING is out there #some sort of closure to the series #not everything i had planned but #it'll do for now #i hope u guys can forgive me for whatever tf this is fjshgdkfd

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gracelessfighters · 4 years

Text

don’t feel

JJ Maybank x female reader

Masterlist

-- // part two // part three // part four

Summary: soulmate au with JJ where they can feel each other’s pain when in close proximity, but with both of them feeling a lot of pain, that connection seems to go almost unnoticed

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: angsty, abuse, mentions of abuse and injuries, swearing (i think thats it?)

——- I am in no way romanticising abuse if you have any issues with my writing pls message me

A/N: I decided to make this into a mini series as this was already getting pretty wordy and so this is basically the intro?? (not much JJ in it yet) Hope you enjoy and there’s probably some grammar errors so ignore them pls

(gif by @siriusscratch )

The kook life wasn’t all luxury all the time - your family had never been one of the richest and you didn’t exactly have the best home life either. Your parents had basically hated each other for as long as you could remember, always in some sort of argument or another, screaming across the house and shouting at all hours of the day and night.

This was something you had learnt to deal with though, what you still weren’t used to was them being violent - it had started off as a vase or plate thrown across the room around a year ago, but this had soon become fists being thrown instead, not only at each other, but they had turned on you and your younger sister as well.

Normally your escape was going to school, just being away from that toxic atmosphere did you a world of good, and after school you would take Grace, your younger sister, out for ice cream or to the beach. Anything to stay out of the house for a little bit longer.

Unfortunately, the school year was now over and the summer holidays had begun and even if the summer season was your favourite, you had been hating every second of it so far.

You had managed to stay in your bedroom for most of today, but were now beginning to get hungry so you knew you’d soon have to venture downstairs and hope that your parents were in an alright mood.

Your sister heard you begin to move down the stairs, popping her head out of her room she said, “Hey Y/N,”

“Hi Grace, you good?”

“Yeah I’m fine, are you getting some food?”

“I’m going to try to yes, I’m assuming you want some of the spoils?” You raised your eyebrow at her in question.

“Yes please,” she looked towards the floor, “I’m sorry I don’t want to go down there tonight, they were arguing when I got in from Carley’s and-“

You cut her off, stepping toward her and putting a strand of hair behind her ears, “hey don’t be sorry, you know I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, I’ll get you some water as well, okay?”

“Thank you, and Y/N, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

You stepped away, ready to go back downstairs, “I know but I’m the older one and I will always protect you bub.”

With that you took a deep breath in, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Luckily it was empty, so you quickly grabbed some bread and began making some sandwiches for you and your sister. Sandwiches were about as complex as you got when it came to making food but it would do.

You were about to head upstairs when your dad walked in, “Why haven’t I seen you all day?”

“Uh I’ve been busy,” you picked up the plates and tried to move past him, only for him to block your path, “excuse me please.”

“Your mother and I want to see you around the house more, you’re either out or in your room, is spending time with us so bad?”

“I don’t spend time with you because I’m busy Dad, don’t get offended.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth you regretted them, your dad’s face morphed into one of anger.

Before you could even react he brought his fist into your stomach, causing you to double over in pain, dropping the plates you were holding in the process.

“Now look what you’ve done!” He shouted at you, waving his hands at the mess on the floor.

Not wanting to upset him anymore you quickly grab a dustpan and brush and bent down to begin clearing it up when he delivers a vicious kick into your chest, you fall to the floor completely, struggling to breath. He kicks you again, this time the strength in his leg slams you into the cabinets behind you, you wince in pain, too winded to even breath properly, you refused to let the tears behind your eyes fall, from past experience you knew that crying in front of your dad was a bad idea as he viewed it as ’weak’ and it only made him angrier.

He stepped away, giving you room to stand back up, you tried not to grab your front in pain, even if it felt like your insides had been ripped apart and you knew the bruises were already forming and by this time tomorrow your stomach would be a pattern of purple and green bruises.

“I’m sorry honey, I don’t know what came over me.” He tried to reach out to you, but you only flinched away, not looking at him.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll clean this up, you go and have a lie down and I’ll see you later.”

You just nodded, still not wanting to make eye contact with him, and shuffled past him, your body shaking more and more with each step, and once you’d reached the first step, the tears slowly began falling down your face.

Your sister was stood at the top of the stairs, a single tear mark on her cheek as she took in your state, she held out her hand for you, leading you towards your room where you sat on your bed, drained and in pain and not wanting to speak.

Your sister had come back into your room with some cream for your side, but you still didn’t move.

“Y/N,” she moved to grab your hand, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve gone down with you.”

This shook the vacant look out of your eyes, squeezing her hand you said, “Absolutely not, I meant what I said earlier and it is more painful seeing you in pain than what I’m experiencing now.”

You lifted your shirt, revealing the swollen marks that would soon become bruises. Grace’s breath hitched in her throat, “Oh God, this is worse than I thought it was, do you think anything is broken?”

“No, it’s just bruises and anyway he only kicked me a few times today and kind of apologised which is better than most of the time.”

Grace went to say something but you held up your hand to stop her, “I’m not excusing his behaviour don’t worry, I’m just saying it could have been worse.”

“But it shouldn’t have to happen at all!” She had finished applying the cream and began pacing, “I know it happens more to you because you protect me but it disgusts me and I hate how it effects you, you almost become a shell of who you whenever this happens. You’re the best person I know and our fucking parents are destroying you every day!”

“Not so loud Grace.” You try to calm her down, but it only seems to make her angrier, even though she was only thirteen, she had already grown up so much due to what you’d both endured, and it honestly broke your heart.

“I want us to leave this place Y/N.” She turned to you, angry tears now rolling down her face.

You held out your arms for her and she moved over to you, snuggling into your embrace, careful not to hurt you.

“I promise one day we will get out of here but right now we can’t and we’re just going to have to live with it for a little while.”

You could feel her nod against your chest, she moved out of the hug slightly so she could look at you, “Do you want me to stay in here tonight?”

“Maybe, I haven’t decided yet, but first,” you stood up, wincing slightly at the movement, “We still need food, so do you want to sneak out to The Wreck?”

“Only if you’re up for it.”

“Of course I am, any chance to eat those fries I’m taking to be honest.” You smiled at her and luckily she let out a huff of laughter, lightening the mood between you.

“Okay then, which escape are we doing? 1 or 2?” She asked, reaching for a jumper in your wardrobe. Throughout the years, you had both created different codes for around your parents or ways to get out of the house, and at this point it was almost perfected.

You hold you chin in contemplation, “I was thinking one.”

“Interesting,” she clapped her hands together and headed towards your door to go to her room, “Okay I’ll see you at the car in 5 minutes.”

You nodded at her, and turned to the mirror quickly wiping away the mascara stains around your eyes and pulled a jumper on before heading over to your window and pulling it open.

You and Grace both had ways to get out of your bedrooms from your windows - yours was a wooden trellis for the roses and plants to climb up the side of the house, which you had perfected moving up and down on; hers was a small terrace over the outdoor seating area that she could jump to and then jump to the floor on. You never went on each other’s way out as neither of you wanted to risk it not holding both weights and your parents catch you, as this would probably result in at least one of you being sent to the hospital.

You struggled a little today due to your new injuries but still managed and once you had finished climbing down, you wiped your hands on your jeans, and headed to your car on the drive where your sister was already leaning against the passenger door.

You sat behind the wheel, started the engine and slowly pulled out of the drive.

Neither you or your sister spoke for a few minutes, enjoying the fact that you were out of the house and on your way to one of your favourite places on the island. The Wreck was mainly a touron and pogue institution, but you had always enjoyed going there, especially because you and Kiara got along well enough that it wasn’t the normal Kook vs Pogue fight whenever you went.

Grace reached to turn down the radio before looking at you, “Y/N.”

You glanced at her and raised your eyebrows, “Grace.”

“Do you know your soulmate yet?”

You cleared your throat, this topic always made you uncomfortable as the idea there was someone who, if they were near enough to you, could feel the pain you were in, not only made you sad but also anxious because by the time they work out who you are, they could resent you for the pain you had caused them even though it wasn’t your fault.

“No, I’m yet to see someone near me double over in pain when Mum or Dad have used me as a punching bag that day, so I’m starting to think they might not be on this fucking island.” `You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitchy as that and probably should have apologised but it was how you felt.

Your sister had pity in her eyes but didn’t say anything, instead just hummed to the song coming through the car speakers.

You stayed like that, listening to the music and not uttering any other words until you pulled up to the small car park outside the Wreck.

“Right, let’s go and get some food.” You said, opening the door to your car and heading into the restaurant.

Kie smiled at you in greeting before leading you and Grace over to a table at the back, away from most people.

You hit your hip on the table next to yours by accident, causing pain to flare up over your body, making the injuries you already had somehow feel even worse.

Grace had heard your intake of breath, and as you both sat down she looked at you, “Are you okay?”

“Yes I’m fine don’t worry, just being my clumsy self.”

She nodded and looked down at the menu in front of her, you didn’t need to look, you ordered the exact same thing every time, so instead you looked at the people who were sat in the restaurant.

It was past the peak dinnertime service so only a few tourons were in here, and there was Kiara’s little pogue group sat on a table in the opposite corner, all talking in hushed whispers. As you looked at them your head began to pound, like you’d been hit with a baseball bat repeatedly, you couldn’t help but grimace slightly.

You must have hit your head earlier when your dad sent you flying into the cabinets, and this was just a delayed reaction. You kept reassuring yourself this, especially when the blond boy, who you knew was called JJ, turned around, making eye contact with you through his swollen and bruised eyes. He raised his eyebrows quizzically, holding his side slightly, as if in pain.

It was all just a coincidence you thought, you dad had hurt you more than you realised earlier, and you hadn’t taken any painkillers.

You looked down at your menu, trying to escape the gaze of the blond boy, who you could feel was still looking at you.

Yeah it was just a coincidence.

Part two

Tags: @jiaraendgame ( @teamnick i said i’d tag you in my next series hope you dont mind)

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #pope heyward #kiara carrera #john b routledge #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks fic #obx #obx fic #outrebanx #jj maybank angst #jj x reader #outrebanx - don't feel

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ezrasarm · 4 years

Text

Loving You Too Late

[ day 3 | angstaggedon masterlist ]

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: You and Frankie have loved each other for a long time. You’re just a little out of synch.

Warnings: Angst, a tad bit of cheating (more like brief romantic overlap), language, main characters being idiots, oh and theres a funeral too

Credits: A massive thank you to @chaotic-noceur and @din-damn-djarin for beta reading and listening to me complain about how much of an idiot I am for deciding to write this! I don’t know that I would have finished it without your encouragement and now it’s the longest oneshot in my repertoire!

A/N: “Let’s write oneshots!” we said. “It’ll be fun!” we said. “Just connect the bullet points!” we said… 4.6K words later. Yeah we really have no self control at all do we?

You and Frankie had known one another pretty much all your lives. Your parents both had cottages on the same small lake where you would spend most of your summers. His place was just two doors down from your own so you knew who he was through community events and simply for being the “Morales Kid”. You hadn’t really gotten to know him until one summer when you applied for a job at the general store just across the lake. He was working stocking shelves the same year. You don’t think you’ll ever forget that first shift you shared together. You hadn’t seen him in a couple of years and you could hardly believe the name tag clipped to his shirt labelled “Frankie” when you first set eyes on him. He’d grown up a lot in the meantime. He was taller, his shoulders had broadened and he was more solidly built than the lanky little kid you’d known him as for so long. But the mop of wild chestnut curls on top of his head that he hid under a beat-up and salt-stained truckers cap assured you it was him.

It was the boredom of day-long shifts in the near-empty store that made the two of you overcome your timid demeanours. It started with you offering him a soda on one of your lunch breaks. That turned into long conversations with one another when your boss was nowhere to be seen, sending goofy looks to each other over the shoulders of unsuspecting customers, and stealing the occasional ice cream from the freezer. Soon just hanging out at work turned into hanging out whenever you got the chance. You peering over his shoulder as he tinkered with boat motors he’d salvaged from the brink of death. Him timing you when you would swim lengths between the neighbour’s dock and your own. Before you knew it you were taking any excuse you could to spend time with one another, until it came to the point where you didn’t even need an excuse at all. Suddenly you and this shy kid with his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds were inseparable.

Of course, Frankie being Frankie didn’t realize what that clenching feeling that rose in his chest every time he set eyes on you was until it wasn’t there anymore. Summer had to come to an end at some point, and with it you two were reluctantly dragged away to your respective ends of the state to finish off school. The almost seven-hour drive between you complicated your usual hangout rituals but you took to calling one another whenever you got the chance. Frankie’s friends would tease him for it but he practically sprinted across the room whenever the phone rang. He had thick skin. He brushed them off when they would hoot or holler and make kissing sounds at the mention of your name. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He would remind them through an irritated roll of his eyes whenever they would ask about you. What he hadn’t realized was that the annoyance he felt towards them wasn’t because of their mocking tone or their rowdy demeanours but because a part of him wished you were.

It was a Friday night after you had ended your call with a heavy yawn and an apology that you had to go to sleep because you were up early that morning. A goofy smile lingered on his face as he flopped back into his bed, that infectious laugh of yours was still ringing in his ears when that feeling washed over him again. The same one that made his stomach flip when you would shoot him a grin from the checkout of the shop. The one that made his blood boil when his friends would joke at him for making you up. The one that made his heart break when the line went dead after you hung up. The one that made his palms sweat and his heart hammer against his ribcage at the mere thought of you. Suddenly it hit him like a freight train all at once. It was too obvious to deny any more. He was completely, absolutely and utterly head over heels for you.

But as school work ramped up and your agenda got fuller and fuller, your calls became fewer and farther in between. A quick ‘hello’, ‘what’s new?’, ‘nothing much’ and a ‘sorry, I gotta go’. There were a few times where he almost let it slip. The conversation would come to a lull and his eyes would fall to his feet. His hand would instinctively come to scratch the back of his neck as he readjusted his grip on the phone. He would even start the sentence. “Listen, uh” Then he’d shake the thought away. As desperate as he had grown to tell you how he felt he couldn’t bring himself to do it over the phone. He needed to see your face. He wanted to lock his gaze onto those beautiful eyes of yours and see your reaction. His skin crawled at the idea of the words tumbling out of his mouth only for you to go silent and that dreaded tone to ring through the line telling him you had hung up. He would tell you this summer, he promised himself. Just a few months. He could hang on that long.

Which he did. He had a speech planned by the time he watched your car pull up the driveway to the small wooden cabin you called your home every summer. A smile broke across his face as he stood up from the doorstep where he had been waiting to greet you. You came barrelling out of the car the moment it came to a full stop, just about knocking him over with the force you collided to envelop him in a tight hug.

“Why are you crying, you big baby?” He teased when you pulled away only for him to see your eyes were watery with unshed tears.

“Because I missed you, you idiot!” You force out a laugh, whacking the visor on his cap lightly so it fell down in over his line of sight before wiping away the damp from around your temples with the heel of your palm.

Frankie’s heart is hammering in his chest when he parts his lips to speak again. He’s got the words on the tip of his tongue when a voice he doesn’t recognize emerges from behind you. “So you’re the famous Frankie I’ve heard so much about!” He feels the smile on his face drop the moment his eyes fall on the stranger in question who has now tucked his arm around your waist. “I’m Mike.” He says, an amiable smile on his face as he extends a free hand to shake. Frankie hesitates a moment, his confession from before still lodged in the back of his throat. He has to choke it down with a curt smile before he accepts the gesture. He’s not sure how long he stands there, politely nodding along to the conversation, his mind elsewhere as you make introductions he’s not ready to hear. You looked so happy together he can’t help but feel out of place. He’s not even sure what words he used to excuse himself as he retreats down the beaten dirt path that leads back to his place.

He’d never felt his emotions flip on their head so fast he felt he might have vertigo. Yet here he was, his head spinning and the taste of bile bitter on his tongue. He felt like a fool. Wracking his brain for any sign you could’ve given him, any warning that would have told him to stop. Stop loving you as though that were a thing that was within his power to do. He’s got every phone call you had shared since you left playing on repeat in his head but he keeps coming up empty. You gave him nothing. That or he was too selfishly consumed in his own ardency for you that it hadn’t even occurred to him that you might already have your own… for someone else.

“Hey, where were you?” You asked him from where you’d perched yourself on the stretch of dock just in front of the boathouse. His boathouse. Your toes just barely skimmed the surface of the calm water sending ripples across the lake. It had been three days that you hadn’t seen him, a long stretch by your standards. At first, you had simply put it down to him being busy. Maintaining his parent’s property was no small feat and there was no one there to help him yet this season. But the longer you went without a sign of him the more worried you started to get.

“Had to pick up gas for the boat.” He said, jostling the jerrycan in his grasp and you formed your mouth into an ‘o’ as you nodded in understanding.

“Did it strand you in the middle of the lake again?” You ask a smug grin pulling at the corner of your lip as you recall the time you saw him fruitlessly rowing the old fishing boat against the wind with only one ore and had to go out there and rescue him yourself.

“No,” He scolds you genially as he comes to sit next to you with a heavy sigh. “...not this time.” He adds, causing an affable chuckle, one that made his heart skip a beat in his chest, to escape you. It’s only when he catches himself staring at your up-quirked lips that he has to clear his throat. A pang of guilt that hasn’t quite become custom yet is nagging at the back of his mind as his gaze falls in front of him.

“Where’s Mike?” He asks hesitantly, not entirely sure he wants an answer to that question yet.

“He left this morning.” You say. He hates that the sombre note to your voice actually gives him an ounce of hope for a moment. “He has to be back in town for work on Monday.”

“Ah, a city boy.” Frankie teases in an attempt to muffle his own disappointment and you jostle him with your shoulder chidingly.

“Hey, lay off.” You laugh softly before your tone shifts and those upturned corners of your mouth drop wistfully. “I thought you’d like him.” You said, quieter now as though you weren’t convinced you wanted him to hear it.

He hated the way you looked up at him, your eyes blown wide with such expectation. He hated that his opinion mattered and that it wasn’t the one you wanted to hear. Because that was just it. Frankie did like him. Or at least he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. He should like him and yet the mere mention of ‘Mike’ made him want to punch a wall. He’d been hiding away this entire weekend because he could hardly stand the thought of looking you in the eye when he couldn’t tell you the one thing that had been playing in his mind on a loop for months. Yet here you were, forcing his hand and he couldn’t even be mad about it. He was just so desperate to be near you.

“I- yeah.” He clears his throat as his gaze falls to the water, and a pregnant pause fills the air. You purse your lips as it hits you that he’s less enthused about this introduction than you had hoped he would be. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” He huffs out softly through an obviously feigned attempt at a smile. But the truth was you didn’t know. Or at least you didn’t want to know. You couldn’t figure out why but something in the back of your mind had told you it would hurt him. And with the look on his face as you tried to come up with a decent answer, he was beginning to prove you right.

“I don’t know.”

You hadn’t intended for it to work out this way. But that just so happened to be the last conversation you had with him. You left for university and the next thing you heard, he had shipped out and joined the army. Perhaps it would have stung a little less had he been the one to tell you, but you had to hear it through your parents when you went home for mid-term break. Everything about the way you left things with him made you sick to your stomach. You had drifted apart from your fair share of friends over the years. It was never easy. It always hurts. But it had never hurt like this. It took you years to find out why.

“Whatever happened to you two?” Margaret, the next-door neighbour who lived just between your cottage and Frankie’s, asked, looking fondly at the scrapbook in her lap. “You were always so cute together.” She added, her voice warbling with what she excused as ‘age’. She had come over briefly to borrow something when you invited her in for a drink and she caught sight of the picture book on the coffee table.

“Who?” You asked, leaning over to take a look at the photo. “Oh, we weren’t… together.” You interjected, feeling childish for the way you avoided the implication that you and Frankie had ever been a couple at all costs.

“Really?” She asked, leaning back to quirk an eyebrow at you skeptically. “Try telling him that.” She scoffed, plucking another photo from the binder. It was the two of you at the end of your dock. You were flaunting the tiny ass fish you had caught for the camera as though you had just caught that night’s dinner. But what grabbed your attention wasn’t the goofy look on your face, the ridiculous stance you had adopted, or the fish you were holding cautiously at an arm’s length. It was Frankie, his gaze set unflinchingly on you.

“Really, we were just… friends.” You try to explain, but you’re too distracted by the admiring look in his eyes and lopsided grin at his lips to sound entirely convinced by yourself.

“All I know is that the way he is looking at you,” she says, prodding a shaky finger at the photograph, “is not how friends look at one another.” She concluded before dropping the subject altogether.

Sure, it had crossed your mind from time to time. The idea of you and Frankie being together wasn’t all too outlandish. You could see how she might have been confused after all. You got along well, you spent a lot of time together, you cared about him deeply and dare you say you even loved him but-

You loved him.

The thought had implanted itself in your mind before you could even process it and suddenly you couldn’t believe what you were admitting. Staring down the snapshot of your former self now, all you could do was wonder why the hell you couldn’t have caught on sooner. Why you couldn’t have turned around in that moment, seen him and had it all snap into place before you managed to fuck it up so royally. Why...Why did you have to fuck it up? Your mind snapped back to the night before you left that summer. You hugged him and you could still feel the lurch in your chest, not unlike the one you were experiencing now, from when his grip on you lingered a few moments longer than usual.

You were scared.

Scared because you had never done this before. You had never been in love or fallen out of it, and you had convinced yourself the only outcome was heartbreak. Scared because if things went south, you would lose not only the person you had ever loved like that but your best friend too and that was too high a price for you to pay. Scared because you didn’t want to hurt him just because you knew you were too afraid to take the leap.

Turns out you managed to do that anyway.

So now, as much as you wanted to- as much as your heart bled for you to march down to his place and bang on his front door until he was forced to open up, you knew you were too late. He was stationed god knows where with a whole new life of his own. You probably couldn’t even get a hold of him now if you tried. So you didn’t. Instead you cleared your throat, took a sip of water and asked Margaret if she had any big plans for the summer.

You thought you had moved on. Which was why you weren’t looking for him when you attended the very same Margaret’s funeral six years later. You weren’t searching for him when you caught sight of a familiar silhouette a couple meters ahead of you and you certainly weren’t trying to grab his attention when you snatched that trucker’s cap off his head on your way into the church for the service.

“Really? At a funeral? You’re wearing a suit.” You chided as he whipped around, his hand instinctively going to smooth down his hair as his eyes fell on you. He hesitated a moment, his mouth agape as he took you in. Your immediate assumption was that he didn’t want to see you, that perhaps time alone doesn’t heal all wounds and as much as you had hoped this would be easy, as much as you wished you could fall back into old habits as though nothing had happened, you were different people now. It had been twelve years after all. A wave of panic rose in your chest as you tried to fill the silence. “I didn’t think you owned one of those.” You joked. ‘Sure, tease him more. That’ll help’ you cursed yourself but you were relieved when a soft chuckle escaped him.

“No, I uh, I had to borrow it.” He huffed out. He was sure his cheeks were on fire with the heat that had flooded them all of a sudden. He froze the moment he laid eyes on you. He hadn’t done that in years and suddenly he felt himself being reduced to some teenage crush that made his heart stutter and his palms sweat. “Y- You look good.” He remarked, still feeling out of his element in the ill-fitting suit as he watched you, beautiful as ever, toying with the brim of his hat.

“So do you.” You said, biting back the smile that threatened to break across your face. This clearly wasn’t the place. You wound up sitting together for the rest of the ceremony, dropping by the reception for a moment to pay your respects, then inviting him for a drink at the bar just down the street so you could catch up properly. There was a moment’s pause where you thought he might turn you down. He probably had things to get back to in his limited time back in town and who were you to get in the way of that? But instead he shot you a classic Frankie smile, one you hadn’t seen in a long time, and you wound up reliving memories of summers passed in the dingy leather clad booth for hours.

It was as you emptied out into the parking lot. It was late and you both had places to be in the morning. Perhaps you’d had a bit too much to drink or maybe it was just that magnetic pull you always seemed to feel when you were around him. His head was thrown back in laughter over something you had said and his features, aged slightly from the time that had elapsed but still carrying those undefinably ‘Frankie’ qualities you had fallen in love with in the first place, had been outlined in the dull glow of the orange street light a couple meters away. For one glimmering moment you felt as though you had been handed a second chance. The one you had told yourself it wasn’t possible and that even if it were you were too late. But you had lived through that loss. The one that had paralyzed you with fear and self doubt for so long. You had suffered the aftermath and you had missed him so deeply you felt you were missing a part of yourself. And now he was standing right here in front of you. You weren’t about to let him slip through your fingers again.

“Frankie, I loved you.” You blurted out suddenly only to watch the smile that had been plastered to his face drop in the blink of an eye. ‘Well you sure had a funny way of showing it’ was his immediate thought but he was too stunned to get that out.

“You what?” He asked, not because your words hadn’t reached his ears but because he couldn’t seem to make sense of them. He had spent so long thinking you simply weren’t interested in him. That he wasn’t good enough or that he would always be playing second fiddle to someone else. Someone better suited for you, that you actually felt something for.

“I said I-”

“No, I heard you.” He clarified but the clip to his tone and that look in his eye told you that you had overstepped. That you had just undone all the progress you’d made over the past couple hours. That this time you wouldn’t be able to rebuild the bridges you had just demolished so carelessly. How was it that he was always the one to suffer for your mistakes?

“Frankie I’m sorry, I never meant-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips were firmly planted on your own, a hand splayed against the small of your back, pulling you in towards him. You had to grip his upper arm just to keep yourself from toppling over from the sheer momentum of it all. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears and you were sure the alcohol in your veins wasn’t helping the way your head was spinning but something clicked in your mind. It felt so right being in his arms, so comfortable, safe and familiar like this was the only place you were ever meant to be. You had just about gotten over the shock of it all, your muscles relaxing and your hand coming to cradle the nape of his neck when as quickly as they had arrived his lips were gone. He hovered there a moment, his breath, still heavy with fervor, was fanning over your top lip and his eyes were screwed shut tight as though if he opened them you would have disappeared. He just needed a moment longer before the stage set collapsed. Just a second... but it was already too late.

“Fuck,” He muttered more to himself but it made you shift awkwardly on your feet anyways as he pulled away, straightening back up to his full height. You felt much smaller now as you looked up at him. “Fuck, we shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have done that.” He stammered out suddenly, eyes pleading when all you wanted was for him to do it again.

“Frankie it’s fine, really, I-“ You went to explain, your fingertips reaching out to lace in his own but he flinched away the moment you made contact, his hand retracting as he stepped back to place some distance between you with a clearing of his throat.

“I should- I should go.” He gulped back, an apologetic look flashing over his features once more before he turned to walk away. You had to choke down the sting at the back of your throat, and bite back your quivering lip as you watched him leave. You weren’t quite sure what you had done wrong but any words in protest seem to catch on their way out. You felt powerless to anything but watch it all unfurl.

You didn’t sleep that night, thoughts still reeling from the events of that evening. You tossed and turned until sunlight poured through your curtains and you were forced to give up. You weren’t ready to admit to yourself that that was it. That you had already screwed up your second chance, your final chance. Before you were even sure of what you were doing you had the number he had given you last night dialed into your phone, the tone ringing out a few too many times before you heard him finally pick up. “Hey, uh, it’s me. Listen, I just wanted to say that I know last-”

“Hello?” But the voice that came out from the other end of the line was not one that you recognized. It was a woman. You stopped dead in your tracks, your words lodging somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Sorry, I must have the wrong number. Is this Frankie Morales’ phone?” You stammered out, your words struggling to catch up with the thoughts spinning through your mind.

“No, this is the right number. He just stepped into the shower.” The mystery woman explained. “Can I take a message for you?”

“No thats- Can I ask who’s speaking?” You asked. You could already feel tears stinging at your eyes as the pieces started to fall into place. Why he pulled away, why he ran off and left you stunned in the parking lot of a small town bar after the best damn kiss of your entire life. The best damn kiss because it was with him...

“Jeanine,” She said and quite suddenly you felt like an idiot. You hadn’t even considered this outcome. That maybe your second chance wasn’t a chance at all. That you were foolish enough to think someone wouldn’t have smartened up and realized how remarkable he was before you.

“Jeanine…” You weren’t even aware you had repeated the name until it had slipped off your tongue, your voice weak and disbelieving.

“His fiance.” She confirmed. You had to bite your knuckle to hold back the silent sob threatening to pry its way past your lips, white hot tears now breeching your waterline and streaming freely down your cheeks. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to dislike her. She was perfectly polite- probably perfect for him.

“Right, of course.” You shake your head, attempting to get your breathing back under control before uttering your next words. You wanted to be mad at him for making you the other woman- for letting you become the other woman. For not telling you. But you couldn’t even manage that. It was your own doing. All you had done was rub salt in old wounds and now you were left with the searing evidence. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll- I’ll call back later.” You lie before hanging up. The line goes dead and the silence that surrounds you now is deafening as you slump back down onto your bed.

And that was it. The end of something that never even began. You missed your chance. You were too late and now you were the one who would suffer for it. For knowing what his lips tasted like on your own, knowing the completeness you felt in his arms, and knowing you would never be able to feel it again.

[ angstageddon masterlist | Ezra’s arm masterlist ]

-- angstageddon taglist

@chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin @wille-zarr @chaotic-noceur @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @mrschiltoncat @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #angstaggedon #angst week

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obutsuwrites · 4 years

Text

work friends (miruko x reader, part 2)

summary: basically, miruko convinces reader to meet at the mall. possessive behavior and fingering ensue.

warnings: light dom/sub, thigh riding, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, mommy kink

part one

my ao3 for more shitposts

my ko-fi~!

word count: 3,729

A high-pitched chirp pierced the woman’s dreamless sleep. Setting such a deafening ringtone was supposed to be an advantage. Hot stories don’t stop once night falls, an unfortunate truth the woman had already learned. The woman rolled over; tired hands latching onto her phone.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:45 am

ur laugh was almost cute 🤪

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

Air caught in her throat, somehow worse than a punch in the gut. Crimson eyes burned in the woman’s mind. Cherry pits she couldn’t ignore. She exhaled. The act was almost orgasmic as greedy lungs resumed function.

What… what do I say? Naturally, words came to the woman like magic. A gift she attributed to countless All Might articles. All Might. His name felt heavy somehow now. The woman sighed and typed a short response.

「XXX」 | 12:47 am

This is Miruko, right?

Three dots appeared as half lidded eyes struggled to maintain focus. What does this stupid bunny want this late? Her mind felt fuzzy, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion was rooted in her bones; a slow ache.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:48 am

wats ur addy

Of course. Wait. Is… is she trying to hook up? A lump of disgust and anxiety swelled within her stomach. Casual sex wasn’t foreign to the woman. It was a concept she celebrated, but the image of hungry, crimson eyes plagued her. Carnivorous orbs that threatened to eat her alive.

「XXX」 | 12:49 am

You woke me up. It’s *midnight*. I can interview you tomorrow.

This was a bargaining chip. Perhaps ignorance would save her. Or maybe I’m committing career suicide, she mused. Rumors and whispers of reporters doing “favors” for interviews wasn’t unheard of. Morality wasn’t a concern for the perfect article.

The woman stared intently at her phone, eyes bleary and heavy. Dread mounted in her stomach as minutes passed. The woman rubbed her eyes. Maybe she’s asleep already. The thought brought her comfort as sleep dusted over her. Fatigue had won.

≛

A hearty exhale left the woman as throbbing muscles stretched against morning light. Another dreamless sleep with a side of awkward sleeping positions. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. She layed in bed, determined to absorb the early sunlight. Eventually, the woman rolled over and began to check emails. Ignorance was a blessing. The woman’s phone vibrated in her hand, the motion jarring and obnoxious. Right. The rabbit.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 - INCOMING CALL

Red eyes flashed through her mind. Soft hands trembled, knuckles white and taunt. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The notification was imposing; a beast that dwarfed her. An electrical wave crept through the woman’s spine. Anxiety now rooted in her stomach.

“H-hello?”

The pro hero snickered. “Finally ya answer, kit. Think you owe me your name for the wait.” She could almost feel Miruko’s hot breath through the phone. A sweltering gust that starved the room of oxygen.

The woman swallowed, saliva thick and tongue bulky. She muttered her name like a prayer.

“Cute name, kit. You never replied to my text. Still game?” Miruko’s voice cut into the word kit, as if it were an insult. Belittling.

She shifted in bed, words unable to become tangible. Prey caught in the powerful jaws of a predator. Shivers continued to assault the woman as she opened Miruko’s text.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:55 am

watever. meet me @ hiro mall.

Hiro Mall. Hiro Mall! She giggled; the sound unnatural and falsetto. A laugh she hated. Hiro Mall was thirty minutes away via car, but… I don’t own a car. No reliable transportation!

“I don’t live near Hiro Mall. S-sorry, can’t do it.”

Miruko’s thin lips pulled a mischievous grin. “Don’t apologize, it’s annoying like that laugh. I’ll pick you up,” the Rabbit Hero insisted, tone assertive and deep. Like rich chocolate.

A sour expression spread through the woman’s features, panic in her veins. An icy chill ran into her skull. The beginnings of a migraine.

“N-no it’s fine. You’re probably too far away.” She glanced around, desperate to escape the call. “We can arrange an interview later in the week.” A mall is too unprofessional anyway.

“C’mon. I gotta scoop for you, little kit.” Miruko sounded almost eager. A tight edge to her voice.

Another laugh left the reporter as she spoke, “Listen, M-Mi-Miruko… I appreciate this offer I really do. I just can’t today. I have -- I have other arrangements today.”

The Rabbit Hero released a hearty chuckle. Playing hard to get, huh?

“Can’t clear your schedule for an interview with the number seven pro hero Miruko?” She teased.

She feigned a smile. “I did agree, didn’t I? O-okay. I’ll text you my address.” There was no escape from the rabbit. Coils of anxiety refused to unravel within her gut. Painful, hot bundles that tore into her.

“Good kit.” A click followed the rabbit’s voice. The woman released a pent-up whine.

Are all pro heroes this rude?

≛

“I like your hat,” the woman mused, her sentence punctuated by a gentle chuckle. Miruko’s ears twitched at the sound.

Pro hero Miruko stood before her in casual attire; denim shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a brown baseball cap. It felt almost wrong to see the number seventh hero like this. Vulnerable. Human.

“That laugh was cute. Why don’t you laugh like that?” The ghost of a smirk rested against Miruko’s lips. Blush for me, kit.

A yell echoed through the mall before the woman could reply, “Hey! It’s Miruko! Miruko, can I get an autograph?!” Like magic, a young boy appeared in front of the couple, his smile was sunlight. Too bright to ignore. Pen and paper in tiny hands.

Crimson eyes observed the child with anticipation. She was not a rabbit, but a peacock. A peacock that revelved in attention.

“Sure!”

Miruko bent down and lightly grabbed the parchment from the boy; signing an indecipherable signature. The action seemed too gentle for the carnivorous woman. She’s creepy when she’s nice, the reporter thought as a shiver crawled down her skeleton. Like a dull ache in her bones.

The boy’s face broke out in a boyish grin; a smile too big for his face. Curious orbs drifted from the mythical hero and stuck to the unfamiliar figure beside the rabbit.

“Hey… are you a hero too? Are -- are you Miruko’s friend?” the boy prodded, his voice soaked in excitement and stars in his eyes.

The woman awkwardly shuffled and inspected her shoes. A pit began to widen in her stomach. The feeling left her empty and anxious. Starving. “Sorta. Work friends.”

“What’s it -- “

Before the child could ask, Miruko interjected. The woman’s tone was hard and rough, like sandpaper. “Sorry kid. We gotta bounce.”

Calloused hands reached for the reporter, finding purchase around her waist. A quiet yelp was exhaled from the woman; the sound sharp and sudden. Maroon rage bubbled under Miruko’s intense gaze as she ushered the woman away.

“Friends?” Miruko hissed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. The woman felt like injured prey, ready for the slaughter. “We’re not friends and you fucking know it.” Snowy ears twitched in annoyance. Little kit doesn’t know her place. The thought was venomous and ravenous; a lion starved and wild.

Her hand burns.

"Miruko… Are we not friends?" Curious eyes locked onto the rabbit. Begging for Miruko's attention. Was a pro hero a liar? Her brain felt branded by the question. Burnt. Ruined.

Large hands released the woman. Strong arms encased the woman; like a dragon hoarding gold. A wolf with teeth trained on a young doe. Poised, prepared. Miruko's heart threatened to leap from her chest, the sound like thunder. The woman couldn't ignore the roar against her.

The hero swallowed. "I want you to call me Usagi. No, Usagi. It'd sound cuter coming from you." Miruko grinned, lips too tight and teeth too sharp.

"Usagi, let me go. This is too intimate," the woman stated plainly. The situation was too familiar. Too similar to last night.

"You like my hat?"

Gross hot carrot breath.

Silver strands hung over muscular shoulders as a confident voice tickled the woman's ear.

"I'll try some on for you, because it's you!" Stars danced in Miruko's eyes. Crimson orbs now enveloped in joy.

≛

The couple sat on a bench, both parties tired from a day of giggles and coy smiles. Hidden signs of affection between the two. A genuine laugh from the woman made Miruko’s ears twitch in excitement. It was the same feeling she experienced before; the hero’s stomach was in knots. A hot, tangled mess that stung.

Miruko watched as the reporter gingerly checked her emails. She demanded a detour to rest and get her bearings. Miruko peered over her shoulder, unaware of the anxiety that began to bubble in the woman’s throat. Like mucus stuck in her nose. Thick and suffocating.

The woman turned to her, lips tugged into a curt grin. Too formal, too polite.

“I was thinking,” she began; still enamored by work, “you promised me an interview. We can grab lunch and I can pick your brain.” Finally, I’ll get my story. The woman vibrated with elation. It was a buzz that warmed her down into her bones. Her dreams were within reach; so many opportunities.

Miruko’s calloused palm slid across the woman’s thighs, creeping along as if to memorize the supple flesh. The rabbit wanted to bury herself between them. Pillowy thighs that touched deserved to be worshipped.

She caressed the woman’s thigh as she spoke, “Don’t live too far from here… You like your coffee black?” The hero’s casual attitude left a horrible taste in her mouth. A bitter, rotten taste. Miruko’s hand was scorching against her thigh, a juxtaposition to her clammy skin.

“No, tea. I know… I know of a cafe not far from here.” Words were impossible again. Intangible things. The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a shrill chuckle, another sign of internal concern. A part of her dreaded being alone -- in a private space -- with the hero. Famished eyes still regarded her as prey. Oval cherries.

“Got tea, too. I think you’re just scared. I don’t bite!” Much, Miruko thought, playful lips stretched into a lop-sided grin. She was desperate to taste the woman, to spread her apart and worship. Miruko kneaded the doughly flesh underneath her, as she waited for a response.

Finally, the woman looked away; too ashamed to face the rabbit.

“O-okay.”

≛

Miruko’s apartment was unexpected. It was plain -- almost unbelievable to imagine a hero living here -- much less the number seventh hero. The only noteworthy addition were flowers, as if the room had exploded in a bomb of flora and perfume. They looked out of place with morning dew still fresh on vibrant petals. Was she anticipating this? Hints of flowers assaulted the woman’s nose; the smell was nauseating.

“I redecorated!” Miruko blurted out, a move uncharacteristic for the headstrong woman. She felt exposed like this. The object of her desires was so close -- and yet the rabbit had to be vulnerable. It wasn’t uncommon for Miruko to bring a woman home, but a sea of flowers wasn’t her normal. She was inexperienced in... this. The hero’s heart began to tremble again, the sound booming, leaving her breathless.

The woman only nodded, as if aware of the lie. “Flowers are pretty, aren’t they? I suppose we can start with the first question; Miruko… you don’t have a scoop for me, d-do you?” Her voice faltered as the woman lost her conviction. Plush lips quivered, afraid of the answer.

Her lips look so soft. Without thinking, a tanned finger brushed against the woman’s lips. Miruko quickly withdrew her hand. A muted pink dusted her cheeks, like a child caught. The hero’s snowy ears burned with embarrassment.

“Do it again.”

“What?” Miruko asked, hungry eyes wide. Saliva pooled in her mouth. A predator drooling over wounded prey.

“D-do it a-again.” The woman’s tone was pleading, in need of attention.

My attention, Miruko thought as she swiped a thumb across delicate lips. The flesh reminded the rabbit of her thighs. A familiar heat began to pool in the bottom of her stomach. The rabbit inched closer; the woman’s chin cradled in her palm, thumb still caressing her lips like ritual. Touching the woman was electric. A shock that left Miruko in a daze of want.

Hot breath tickled the woman’s nose as Miruko spoke, “I’m going to kiss you.” Chapped lips collided against the woman. The kiss was forceful and hungry. A lion finally ravishing a meal. Miruko continued to lean into her, as if trying to establish dominance. Gentle hands rested against the rabbit’s toned chest. Miruko tasted like carrots and mint. An obvious attempt to hide the vegetable. The weight of Miruko caused the woman to stumble, and the pair landed awkwardly on the carpeted floor. Miruko landed on top of the woman, hard muscles pressed against delicate flesh.

“Sorry, kit. Guess I got a little too excited. Are you okay?” Miruko’s tone was laced with worry. The genuine concern was new to the woman. Humanizing. Patches of red decorated the woman’s cheeks and her heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum. The sound was deafening.

Red orbs watched with interest and long strands of silver hair settled across small shoulders. Her hair tickled. The woman tried to stifle a chuckle and nodded, even now her soft frame was dwarfed by the hero.

Abruptly, Miruko kissed her again, grinding wide hips into the woman. The rabbit’s hands transversed the woman’s body, starving for her touch. Calloused palms cupped large breasts and massaged. Miruko’s touch wasn’t gentle like a lover’s, but rough and greedy. An involuntary moan slipped from the woman, who was now unable to keep composure. The hero took advantage; seeing the moment of weakness as an opportunity, and jammed a wet tongue into her mouth. Miruko’s hot tongue explored the damp chasm. She wanted to commit every part of the woman to memory.

The rabbit pulled away, the act only to allow her companion fresh air. Lungs gasped for air. Hungry and starved. Before she could force in another lungful, Miruko pressed further against her, and roughly grabbed tiny wrists. The woman was puzzled by the action until she felt the warm presence of Miruko’s finger hooked around her waistband. Miruko licked her lips in anticipation as drool threatened to leak out.

Crimson orbs locked onto the woman, as if to ask permission.

“Please,” she begged. Her voice was small and quiet. Too ashamed to admit the burning ache that settled into her core. The need for Miruko hurt. The woman was racked with impatience. She wanted needed the hero’s greedy fingers in between her.

A thunderous laugh vibrated from Miruko as she discarded the woman's undergarments. “You’re so cute. Submissive and begging for Miruko the hero.” The rabbit shoved a thick finger in between large thighs -- thighs Miruko wanted to dig into. Miruko’s finger curled inside the woman’s craving, wet core. Vicious teeth were bared in a smirk; she could just eat the woman. Devore her whole. On instinct, Miruko’s mouth latched onto the woman’s neck. Her pulse was rapid against the hero’s tongue as Miruko began to suck upon the supple flesh. Erotic sounds of pleasure escaped the woman. Her face was flustered and on fire, a sweltering heat that ravaged her.

Determined fingers pumped into the woman’s slickness. She lifted her hips into Miruko, franic for the hero. Her stomach twisted as shivers shot through her spine.

“Tell Mirko the hero how needy you are. Beg for me.”

"U-Usagi --"

"Miruko," the hero corrected, her sentence punctuated by a second finger. The sudden intruder caused the woman to gasp. Such a cute noise! Miruko curled the second finger and pumped both digits in rhythm. The woman continued to lift her hips, greedy for Miruko's touch.

A low whimper drifted from the woman, "Mi-Miruko, please, please, please … Kiss me. Claim me." She shrunk under the rabbit's gaze. The heat across her cheeks felt permanent. The woman quickly turned away, too embarrassed to allow Miruko a peek.

Miruko grabbed her hips and shoved the soaking woman against her. A small puddle began to pool against the rabbit's shorts. The woman -- too enthralled by Miruko's fingers -- was blissfully unaware of her mess. Delicate wrists were released as sturdy hands palmed the wet spot.

"Look at what you did, kit," Miruko said, placing the woman's hand against the puddle. Gentle orbs locked onto the mess; her cheeks now a vibrant red. Like poppies on her cheeks. She quickly withdrew her hand; as if the puddle was fire.

The woman's voice was muffled and hushed. "I’m s-sorry…” she mumbled, her face hidden by trembling hands. Embarrassment was segmented back into her reality; the woman left too conscious of Miruko’s gaze. It was uncommon for strangers to see the woman so… exposed. Even past lovers weren’t afforded the treat.

“You’re just leaking for me. So fucking wet for Miruko.” She wiped a finger across the mess and used another hand to free the woman’s sight. “I want you to watch.” Miruko’s sentence was entwined with lust. An insatiable need. The rabbit brought her juice stained finger to her mouth and sucked, cannibalistic red eyes locked on the woman. Her pink tongue swirled around the digit. A line of saliva connected the rabbit’s finger as she slowly dragged the apendenge from her mouth. After teasing the woman, Miruko shoved the spit covered digit into the woman. Her cunt now ached with three thick fingers. It felt like too much; her core stretched around Miruko.

The hero didn’t continue to finger fuck the woman. Like a predator playing with injured prey. Enjoying her meal.

Pleading eyes bore into Miruko as she pulled her soaked fingers from the woman. Lips held a dirty smirk. “Rub your clit against my thighs, mommy wants to feel your cunt.” The woman winced at the word. It sounded so dirty, so inappropriate… and yet she shivered at the hero’s words. Desperate for relief, desperate for stimulation; the woman began to rub her slickness against the hero’s exposed thigh. Her face almost sizzled with a crimson blush. She felt the heat up to her ears. Molten lava.

The woman was unable to face Miruko’s starving eyes. Cherries that wanted to rip and tear into her. Muffled sobs racked the woman; the sensations of embarrassment and pleasure blended together in a blur of pathetic arousal. Her body betrayed her as she grinded harder into Miruko’s thigh, the stimulation proving not enough for her swollen clit. The woman could feel the hot blood that pulsed through her core.

“Mi-Miruko, f-fuck me,” she begged.

“Look at you, kit, using such dirty words. You call this begging? This is pathetic. Tell Miruko how much of a slut you are.” Her tone was aggressive, as if the woman’s pathetic nature was an offense.

She swallowed, her mouth devoid of spit as she sobbed, “Please, Miruko! I’m such a slut; I need your fingers! Please, please, please.” The woman’s sentence was chanted, almost like a mantra. A perverted prayer.

Sharp teeth clashed against the woman’s ear. “Sit on my face. Wanna fuckin’ drown in you.” Miruko’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Like a secret between friends. Without hesitation, the woman nodded and stood up as Miruko positioned herself between pillowy thighs. The rabbit’s mouth salivated in anticipation. I’m going to fucking devour you.

The woman slowly lowered herself onto the hero, afraid of injuring her. She wasn’t small and fit like Miruko. She was big and jiggly. Like jello. A body Miruko wanted to grab fistfulls of as she fucked her into a mattress; letting the woman know how beautiful she was. Her aching, wet cunt finally made contact with Miruko’s pink tongue. Sandwiched between gigantic thighs, Miruko began to run her tongue down the woman’s folds. The woman released a lustful moan. She clamped a hand to her shy mouth as Miruko’s tongue slipped into her. She yelped at the sudden action. Miruko snickered underneath the woman, her sounds were like calls from heaven. Honey that coated her ears in a thick sweetness.

She worked at the woman’s mound, only encouraged by her lewd sounds. The woman could no longer muffle her moans; her body stuck in a sea of shivers. Her tongue -- her tongue felt so fucking good. Wide hips grinded into Miruko, hungry to have her tongue deeper within. Two thick fingers plunged into her hole, replacing Miruko’s tongue. The rabbit’s digits slapped into the woman’s drenched thighs. Her tongue wandered up to a swollen, red clit. She took the bud into her mouth and swirled the blood filled nub.

“F-fuck…” A long moan punctuated her sentence as Miruko began to suck on her clit; her fingers scissoring within her, stretching her. The woman’s greedy walls contracted around Miruko. The woman’s large chest heaved as breathing seemed impossible. Hot, short breaths mixed with wails of ecstasy. Miruko continued to suck on the woman’s clit, treating her puffy nub like a treat. Her tanned face now slick with the woman’s juices. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of the woman’s cunt and her moans. Miruko’s ears couldn’t help but rapidly twitch, the rabbit almost too excited.

“Stop… stop, I’ll cum!” The woman whined, her voice lecherous and heavy. Like a fog. Her confirmation caused Miruko’s fingers to ramp up in speed, fingers now curled inside. An audible pop sounded as Miruko released the woman’s puffy nub. The rabbit’s sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. She alternated between sucking and nibbling the woman’s clit. The woman felt an uncomfortable tremble crawl through her stomach, settling at the bottom. Her body begged for release.

A string of profanities erupted from the woman as she came, juices squirting down Miruko’s chin. The hero licked her lips, still hungry. With her moment of bliss gone, and her body weak, the woman gingerly stood up. Her ears and face were a bright pink; like cotton candy.

Miruko gazed at the woman, a lop-sided smirk ghosting her face. “You got me drenched in your pussy. C’here and clean it up, kit.”

#rumi usagiyama #Usagiyama Rumi x reader #smut #bnha #miruko x reader #wlw #chubby reader

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thewickedkings · 4 years

Text

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 2

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. (I know, I know, I suck at descriptions)

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

Jude stepped out her warm shower and into her bath robe, humming softly to herself. She’d gotten up early and went for a run, so she still had half an hour before Cardan was supposed to come over. Maybe she’d make herself a nice comforting breakfast to mentally prepare herself. She’d definitely need the extra dose of comfort food before dealing with Cardan. And to think she would have to do this for the rest of the semester.

Happy thoughts, she reminded herself. Think happy thoughts.

She opened her bathroom door, drying her hair off with her towel, and immediately jumped back in surprise, her towel slipping from her fingers.

Cardan Greenbriar was in her room. He was in her room, lounging on her chair, completely at ease as if he wasn’t in her bedroom. She blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

Cardan looked up at her from where he sat on her chair, smirking. “Forget about our meeting?”

Jude’s mouth hung open in shock. She quickly closed it, her brain scrambling to catch up with the situation. “I didn’t forget. But it seems you forgot we were supposed to meet at 11:30, not 11:00, Cardan.”

“I’m nearly positive I said 11:00, Jude.” He leaned back in her chair, amused. “But maybe I’ll make a habit of coming early.” His eyes lowered from her dripping hair and landed on her bathrobe, and Jude felt herself blush.

“Shut up.” She marched over to her closet, grabbed the first outfit she could find, and walked back to her bathroom. “Give me a second, and then we’ll get this over with,” she growled, and tried not to slam the door behind her.

She looked up into the mirror, and realized she looked worse than she thought. Her brown hair hung down the side of her face in wet strands, and her cheeks were flushed, a side effect of dealing with Cardan.

Something about the way Cardan always seemed so in control of the situation got on her nerves, and she wanted to, for once, have the upper hand with him. He never seemed fazed, and Jude both envied and hated him for it.

She combed out her hair and changed into a casual shirt and mom jeans, doing her best to make sure it didn’t look like she tried in any way for him.

When she walked back in the room, Cardan was looking at his phone, his brow furrowed. Jude had to admit that it was jarring to see him against the messy clutter of her room, and she felt somewhat exposed at him seeing the space she had made her own.

With his attention on his phone, Jude gave him a quick once over. He wore faded skinny jeans that were ripped at the knees and a soft black sweatshirt. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the faded scar just above his sharp jawline, and a small part of her wondered how he had gotten it.

Cardan caught her gaze. “Like what you see?”

She made a gagging sound. “You wish. Come on, let’s go downstairs. I need food before dealing with you.”

“What, haven’t had coffee yet?”

She threw her folder at him and walked towards the door. “I hate you.”

“Do you?” He raised his eyebrows as he deftly caught the folder and got up to follow her. “Besides, I was just getting you back for changing my locker combination. How the hell did you do that? It took me three days to figure it out.”

She smiled. She was particularly proud of that. It seemed her hour of practice and watching Youtube videos had been worth it. “I am a woman of many talents.”

He snorted. “Well, I’m sure you can include lock-picking on your resume, right under thief.”

She walked into the kitchen and grabbed eggs from the fridge. “I didn’t steal your car keys. I just conveniently misplaced them. Do you want some?” she asked as she cracked an egg into a bowl.

“No thanks. How will I know you didn’t ‘accidentally’ poison them?”

Jude’s thoughts flashed back to her plans to poison him and she choked back a laugh. That was a little too close to the truth.

Their conversation was interrupted by Jude’s older sister Vivi, who came rushing down the stairs, shoes on and car-keys in hand.

She paused when she saw Cardan leaning against the kitchen counter. “I see Jude’s finally brought home a b- Cardan?”

Jude ignored the fact that Vivi had just exposed her nonexistent love life and asked, “You two know each other?”

Vivi smiled. “I went to high school with his sister. How do you know Cardan?” She wagged her eyebrows playfully.

Jude shot her a glare.

“We have classes together,” Cardan responded. “But Jude clearly wanted to get to know me better, if you know what I mean, and so she generously invited me over to ‘work’ on our history project together.”

Jude scowled. “I didn’t invite you. You invited yourself.”

“If you say so. But I know you wanted me to come over.”

Jude fumed and looked at Vivi. “He’s delusional.”

But Vivi just looked between them with a knowing smile.

“What?” Jude snapped.

Before Vivi could say anything, Cardan pointed to the stove behind her. “Uh, Jude, I think your eggs are burning.”

“Crap.” She ran and lifted the pan from the stove, but it was too late. The eggs were already black around the edges. She opened the trash can and dumped the eggs inside angrily.

She turned back around, and both Cardan and Vivi were trying to keep a straight face.

“I hate you guys.”

“Ah, so it’s not just me she hates,” Cardan responded wryly.

Vivi examined the remains of her scrambled egg that were still stuck on the pan. “I don’t know how you managed to mess up scrambled eggs.”

“She did tell me she was a woman of many talents,” Cardan said solemnly, before both of them broke into laughter.

~~~

After Vivi left on a mysterious date she wouldn’t say anything about and Jude remade her eggs, they were actually able to get some work done. Jude tried not to let her surprise show when Cardan actually gave helpful input and took the project seriously, instead of sitting back and letting her do all the work like she had expected.

When Jude had suggested women’s rights as their topic, instead of dismissing the idea like a jerk, he suggested doing something more specific, and together they decided to do their project on the gender wage gap in the United States. She’d thought Cardan was just another dumb rich kid with too much time on his hands, and maybe he was, but she realized he was smarter than she gave him credit for.

By the time they were finished, Jude was actually proud of their outline. She looked up at the time and realized it was already half past one. She had to be at work for her first shift at two.

Jude had applied for a job at Courtside Coffee, a small coffee shop that was not too far from their school. She hoped to have a decent amount of savings before college. Jude didn’t want to depend on her sort-of father any more than she already had to. Madoc had taken them in when her parents had died despite the fact that they weren’t his biological children, but that didn’t mean she was going to keep taking his charity money throughout college.

Jude cleared her throat. “Um, I have work at two so I have to go. I think we did enough so far.”

Cardan got up and started picking up their papers. “Yeah, we’re pretty much done anyways.”

Jude went to grab her keys from the key holder on the wall, except they weren’t there. Frustration prickled up her neck. She’d told Taryn she needed the car today.

She picked up her phone and called her. After a couple of rings, Taryn answered, her voice lowered. “Hey, Jude. I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Taryn, I need the car. I told you I had my first shift at work today.”

“Oh, shoot. I forgot, sorry.”

Jude clenched her fists. This wasn’t the first time Taryn had conveniently forgotten Jude needed the car. “Well, where are you? How am I supposed to get to work?” Her voice raised in frustration.

“Uhhh… I’m kind of on a date?”

“You’re on a date? With who?” Of course both of her sisters were on dates today and she was stuck here with Cardan, she thought bitterly.

“I’ll tell you later. Can’t you just get a ride with Cardan? He’s still there right?”

Jude realized she must have let Cardan in this morning before she left. “Are you serious?”

“Come on Jude. I’m too far anyways to get back in time for your shift.”

“Fine,” Jude responded, her voice clipped, and hung up. Another reason she had wanted this job was to save up for her own car. Sharing with Taryn clearly wasn’t working.

She felt Cardan’s gaze on her. Heat prickled up her neck when she realized Cardan had probably heard the whole conversation.

“Is there something you need to ask me?” Cardan asked, playing with his keys innocently.

She gritted her teeth. “Can you give me a ride to work, Cardan?”

“I thought you hated me,” he said coyly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the doorway.

“Cardan, come on,” her eyes flicked to the clock. She had to be there in fifteen minutes.

“Wait, let me just savor this a little bit. Jude Duarte, begging for my help.”

“Cardan, I’m going to be late. Is it a yes or a no?”

“I’ll take you, but only if you come to one of my parties.”

Jude blinked. This had to be some sort of trick. “You want me to come to one of your parties?”

Cardan and his group of friends were notorious around the school for the parties they threw. From what she’d heard, they were typical high school parties, filled with bored kids that wanted to get drunk. Her first and only experience at a high school party had involved her awkwardly hiding out in the kitchen eating snacks while a couple made out against the fridge, and it was safe to say she wasn’t looking for a repeat of that incident. But she was desperate.

“Fine, I’ll go to your dumb party. Let’s go already.”

Jude grabbed her phone and wallet before walking to the door.

Cardan held it open for her, grinning a little too wide. “After you, my lady.”

Something told her this would come back to haunt her in the future.

Here’s chapter two!! Let me know what you think :) I’ll hopefully be faster with the updates from here on out because I finished outlining and have most of the next chapter already written so I’ll probably post that within a week. Hopefully. Again, thanks for reading! Your comments on the first chapter made my week <3

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneuwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! <3

#between the two of us #chapter two #wow i actually wrote something #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota #jurdan fanfic #jurdan fanfiction #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tcp fic #tcp

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hazelcmist · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!”

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat.

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented.

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks.

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs.

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.”

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.”

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down.

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather.

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse.

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything.

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#31 days of ficmas #doctorroseprompts #fic and chips #my writing

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dangerouslcve · 4 years

Text

Unforgiven - Taron Egerton

Pairing: Taron Egerton x reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: There is something so achingly familiar about Taron Egerton. He captures your attention from the moment you see him at Rada, your new acting school. He is the one bright spot in a place where people are constantly judged, the students and staff are rude, and security cameras watch your every move.

Except Taron wants nothing to do with you- he goes out of his way to make that very clear. But you can't ignore nor shake the feeling that you know him. You were being drawn to like a moth to a flame. You need to find out what Taron is so desperate to hide, even if it shatters you...

Read previous chapters on Wattpad @ kayegerton

Disclaimer: I do not know what college is like.. Yet. But I did some intense googling. This story is for entertainment purposes only, it is considered an AU. With that being said, hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter Eleven - State Of Innocence

Everything was heavy and aching, from your limbs, head, eyelids, you could not move anything. The distant sound of a beeping machine was the only thing that you could hear. Your eyes and mouth unwilling to open leaving you blind and mute from the aching of the accident. A low voice breaks through the fog in your mind. They were speaking in hushed tones.

"I don't want to leave her."

"You need to rest and besides you can't be here when her parents arrive."

"I know."

A long drawn out sigh came a moment later interrupting the silence.

"We must have hope that she will awaken soon if Zane is awake now as well."

"I don't care if that bloody idiot is awake! He could have killed her! The roles should be switched right now!"

"But he didn't. You know as well as I do that she would not want you to be getting so worked up over this."

"You don't know her like I do Olivia. I'm staying with her and I will not leave her bedside until she wakes up."

"And then what? she finds you sulking at her bedside after how cruel you have been treating her? Imagine how shocked and confused she would be. You can't just rush into these things, you made a deal."

deal?

"You will never understand how difficult it is for me Olivia and you never will."

You try to fight the fog to listen to more of what they were saying but instead you fall back into the peaceful state of unconsciousness.

The fog lifts but you have no sense of time.

"When do you think she will wake up?" Emily!

"With the sate she was in a couple days ago I'm thinking another week."

"Will she make it?"

"Of course, she is doing much better. Just talk to her she can hear you."

"Hey Y/n." she says her voice cracking as she grabs onto your hand.

Hi Emily... You think to yourself wishing you could actually tell her hello.

"Please wake up..." her voice fades out and everything is consumed in darkness. Back into unconsciousness you go. A familiar warmth pulled you out of the fog, the aching of your limbs fading away but the heaviness of your eyelids preventing you from waking up completely.

"I love you." the voice whispers before the warmth disappears and you know the person is gone and so are you.

Your eyes slowly open, the light in the room nearly blinding making you squeeze your eyes shut as you sit up. You gingerly touched the side of your head and whimper. You tried to gather you bearings, you had no idea where you were but you had a distinct feeling you were not at RADA anymore. You open your eyes a bit looking down noticing you were in a hospital gown. You could feel every part of the night at the Roxy returning to you but everything past that was foggy. The only thing you understood was you were alone in a hospital and two men a room over were screaming at each other.

"Y/n!" A gasp came from the corner of the room grabbing your attention. You turn your head slowly to find Emily within a blink of an eye her arms were wrapped around you. "I was so worried you wouldn't wake up!"

"You could have killed her!" the voice screamed and you hold onto Emily tighter tears threatening to spill over. "I don't care if it was on accident! You haven't seen her! The doctor said it would be a week and its been two and she hasn't woke up!"

"Who-" you try to speak but your mouth was dry and your throat was aching.

"Don't worry about it. They have been at it for an hour now." Emily chuckled through her tears and you pull away a single tear falling down your face. "Rest Y/n, I will let the others know your awake." she squeezes your hand gently laying you back down on the bed before quickly exiting the room. You close your eyes trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your head before the screaming suddenly stops and voices come closer to your door.

"So let me get this straight," Azalea says as she enters your room followed by Olivia and Emily. "You put the lime with the vodka or vodka with the lime- woah look who is finally awake." Olivia rushes to your bedside smiling.

"Welcome back, we were worried we lost you for a second." she giggles and you smile softly sitting up carefully before Emily takes a seat at the end of your bed while Azalea sits in an empty chair across from Olivia.

"How much of it was a dream?" you murmur. Olivia laughs patting your hand before sitting back in the chair.

"That all depends." she says watching you carefully before Azaleas slurping broke the silence making you laugh. "Really?"

"I didn't pay 10 pounds to let this go to waste. I've had a very long and hard two weeks." Azalea snaps before propping her feet up onto your bed. "How about it mate? thinking of healing faster anytime soon?" she smirks continuing to slurp her drink.

"Azalea now is not the time," Olivia rolls her eyes.

"What is this? Some sort of sleep over?" Taron snaps upon entering the room noticing the three girls at your side one of them downing her alcoholic beverage.

"Yep. Join us eagerton we were just about to play truth or dare. We will let you go first." Azalea says to him placing her drink on the table next to you. Olivia tried to cover up her laugh with a dainty fake cough. Taron sent both the girls a glare crossing his arms. He looked very angry but when his eyes met yours he let out a silent whimper. You look away from him your bottom lip quivering.

"Can I talk to you Y/n?" he says and you glance at him nodding before he sighs exasperated looking at the three girls. "Alone."

"Right yes. Come on you two." Olivia says and Azalea rolls her eyes standing up from her spot. "Make it quick." she orders and he nods watching as the girls exit the room whining before the door shuts and you are left alone with Taron. He shyly takes a seat next to your bedside where Olivia had just sat and you feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.

"Are you okay?" he asks with such softness it made you want to burst into tears. You shake your head staring at him as tears well in your eyes blurring your vision.

"I remember." you murmur grabbing his full attention.

"What do you remember love?"

"The club... Being in the car before everything went dark... I thought I could stop him from hitting that car in time..." you swallow the lump building in your throat and Taron tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Your alright that's all that matters." he sighs pulling his hand away standing from his seat.

"What about Zane?" you ask and he clenches his jaw.

"Yeah, he's alright. You shouldn't have trusted Y/n. He put your life at risk. You could have died-"

"But I didn't. Zane is my friend and I trust him." you interrupt him and you notice the glare he is sending you was just like the one he sent you during detention. He was angry. Again...

"I don't want you hanging around him anymore. He is nothing but trouble." he barks and you stare at him in shock before you send him a glare.

"You can't tell me what to do, Zane is my friend and I will hang out with him if I want. Don't suddenly act like you care just because I was in an accident. You had plenty of time when I came to Rada to act like a decent human being yet you treated me with a cold shoulder." You snap and his eyes widen before he closes them saying something under his breath you couldn't hear.

"Get well soon Y/n." he says sending you one last look that was different from all the others. He was destroyed by your words...

"Wait!" you say but he was already out of the room. You lay your head back on the pillow closing your eyes letting yourself fall back into your peaceful slumber without the pain of your aching limbs but the look on his face haunts you as you fall asleep. You kept coming back to the same question 'Why did you say that..?'

You were outside standing beside a silver car that was covered in a fine layer of snow but your gaze wondered up to the sky above. You let a smile spread across your face as the small snow flakes fall down onto your face while the brutal winter wind blows your hair in your face. You chuckle, feeling the happiest you have felt in a long while. The doors to the car unlocks and you climb in trying to warm yourself up. A boy takes his arm and wipes the snow off of the window-shield with his arm before he climbs into the car. When he turns to look at you, you smile. It was your boy. He carefully pulls out of the driveway and you both head to an unknown destination. The drive was relaxed as you both talked watching the snow fall driving on the empty streets.

"Where are you going for school?" you question looking over at him and smile.

"Same place you are going. Mum says it's the best school." he tells you and you nod looking out the window. "What is it?"

"It's so far away from home." you sigh feeling a certain loneliness creep through. He shakes his head placing a hand on your knee.

"We will have holidays, I know this is going to be new for us but let's try it out." he smiles softly before returning his gaze to the road. You could see a bright light rounding a corner in the distance and you had got a horrible feeling something terrible was about to happen.

"I love you." you admit placing your hand on his squeezing it gently. He looks over at you a blush spreading across his cheeks as his eyes are wide. You look at him with a smile on your face nodding answering his silent question. He always double checked when you admitted something so big. You take your hand across his cheek.

"I-I love you too.” he stammers and you smile.

The door to your room swings open and you jolt awake leaving you in a daze. Another dream..They are beginning to become more vivid, more persistent. You had never see the boy beside you until that dream.. and it was Taron?

"I hope you are feeling well?" Florence says with a frown digging underneath the cabinet beside you finding a vase. You smile softly.

"Very." you mumble sitting up accidentally pulling the IV in your hand making you wince. You realized how much you relied on Emily's loyalty, Azaleas quirky way of lightening the soberest moments. Olivia too had truly been kind to you and Taron all though he had been controlling had done more to restore your peace of mind than he could ever know. He'd come by to check on you... He was thinking about you.

"Good," she says putting beautiful roses in the vase she found. You furrow your brows in confusion watching her. "Because visiting hours are not over yet." she says before leaving the room leaving you alone once again. You look over at the roses on the the stand beside you and smile softly.

"Oh my darling girl," your dad says when he enters the room your mum following close behind him. You gasp softly and the tears begin to flow freely down your cheeks.

"Mum," you whimper and she rushes to your side wrapping her arms around your figure.

"I'm so glad you are okay." she whispers pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You grip her shirt never wanting to let go.

"Welcome back sweetheart," your dad says smoothing down your hair as your mum pulls away. "How are you feeling?" he questions as you pull away looking over at him.

"The doctor said you are okay to go back to school tomorrow." Your mum smiles taking her thumb across your cheek and you sigh. You wanted so badly to go home and see your friends but something deep inside you was awakening and you want to know why you keep having these dreams.

"Florence will take you back to school tomorrow morning." Your dad says from the place he stands beside your mum. "Don't look so shocked dear. The doctor said you are okay. A couple bruises and a scratch nothing compared to last time."

"More than fine." your mother added sounding a little uncertain.

"We will see you on Saturday." your dad said patting your arm leaving the room first. You sigh looking at your mom.

"Don't trust some of the boys here honey. I recognized one immediately...Just be safe."

"Mom." you warn giving her a look that said not today.

"We will see you soon." she says taking a hint placing a gentle kiss on your head before leaving the room. Saturday...The school play for the families to see but since the accident you have probably been replaced. It was something you were looking forward too and now you were here in a hospital bed your parents eager to leave you alone again. They had a way of never really wanting to deal with a daughter so they came around just enough to prove they cared only to leave again. You plucked a rose from the vase and brought it slowly to your face admiring the deeply red fragile petals, still moist drops in the middle. You breathed in the flowers soft bland scent. It was such a strange choice of flower, roses didn't normally grow in colder weather and the smell reminded you of something you couldn't quite put your finger on. But it reminded you of the past like almost everything did now these days...

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#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #taron #taron imagine #taron egerton x reader #taron x reader

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 4 | ...I End It?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

This Chapter: Tom expresses his concerns to Emma about Bryce but will she heed his words? And what happens when Emma’s birthday comes around?

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships

“I said he is the wrong guy for you.” Tom repeated through gritted teeth.

Emma furrowed her brow. “Who in the hell do you think you are?” Emma spat back, pulling away from Tom.

“Emma, Em…” Tom reached out. “I’m only looking out for you. Bryce…”

“No! You are only looking out for yourself! Bryce and I are fine!” she snapped back.

Tom sighed. He turned his back to her, calming himself before speaking again. He rubbed his neck as he turned to face Emma. Her face reddened, her fists clenched at her side. “I’m sorry, Em. I went about this all the wrong way.”

“You’re damn right you did!”

Tom winced. “I respect you are in a relationship with…” Tom swallowed hard. “Bryce. I won’t interfere. But I have feelings for you, Emma. And they aren’t going away.”

Emma unclenched her fists and her shoulders relaxed. “If you won’t interfere, then why? Why try to sow seeds of doubt?” Emma narrowed her eyes, studying Tom looking for signs of ulterior motives.

Tom ran his fingers through his hair. Why was he doing this? Did the whole thing matter? he pondered. “Well…” he started as he stepped towards her. “… it’s that I see how you are with him. You don’t seem like you’re happy.”

Emma frowned. She never considered she might be unhappy with Bryce. Sure he could be a bit much but he took care of her. “You don’t understand. I am happy. Bryce and I are happy.”

Tom took another step and took her hands in his. “If you are so happy, why didn’t you tell me at dinner? Or stop me from kissing you?” Tom gave a small smile as he rubbed the pads of his thumbs against her knuckles. The motion sent shocks through Emma. She swore that Tom’s mere touch affected her to the core.

“I… I… was going to tell you.”

Tom’s smile widened. “Before or after I kissed you again?” Tom leaned down and ran his thumb down the side of her face before tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. God, he wanted to taste her lips again.

“Before.” Emma responded as she turned out of Tom’s hand and walked towards the door, her back to him to hide her blushing cheeks.

Tom grabbed her shoulder and spun her in place. “I need you to tell me we are okay before we go back.”

Emma turned and smiled. “Of course we are.” She gave his arms a rub with her hands. “Friends?” she extended a hand.

The word “friends” broke Tom’s heart. He didn’t want to be Emma’s friend. He wanted more. He wanted all of her. Every inch, every moment. He wanted her to be his and his alone. But he realized a romance wasn’t possible right now. “Friends.”

He took her hand and gripped her hand tight, pulling her into a hug. He kissed the temple of her forehead. “Please consider what I said.”

Emma nodded. They jumped apart as the door creaked open, one of the other men entered the room.

“Tom?” he hesitated as he stepped in. “Everyone’s waiting.”

Tom gave the man a smile.

“We’ll be right in.”

The man nodded and gave a curious look at the two of them before closing the door.

“Shall we?” Tom offered his hand.

Emma nodded and took his hand and he led her back to the room.

The meeting ran smoothly and everyone seemed enthused about the project. Tom sat across from Emma and she swore he kept stealing glances at her during the meeting. As everyone filed out, Tom caught Emma. “Lunch?”

“I can’t. I have lunch with Corrinne.”

“Another time.”

Tom nodded and walked off while Emma headed to her car.

The drive to the restaurant gave Emma enough time to consider Tom’s conversation. Is Bryce that bad? Emma reflected back to when the relationship started. Back in the beginning, Bryce lavished her with attention. Wined and dined her. Bought her presents. Somewhere along the line, things changed. Bryce no longer reached for the check. He paid less attention to her when they went out. Lately, anything and everything Bryce did got on her nerves.

But she also remembered the good things. He took care of her and made sure she always looked her best. As she pulled into the parking space, Emma was even more conflicted than ever.

Corrinne waited outside. If she caught Emma’s emotional state, she said nothing. They sat down and ordered drinks.

“So what's new with you?” Corrinne started.

“Do you think Bryce and I should break up?”

Corrinne spit her water back into her glass. “Woah! Where is this coming from?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. Tom was saying…”

“Oh I see, Tom was saying.” Corrinne leaned on her elbows.

“It’s not like that.”

“Tell me what it is like. Tell why Tom Hiddleston has such a hold on you.”

Emma lifted her glass to her lips. “We slept together.” she mumbled into the glass as she took a drink.

Corrinne’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?! Did you say you slept with Tom ‘I’m carved from marble’ Hiddleston?”

Emma averted her eyes.

“When? How? Explain yourself, missy!”

Emma sighed. “About five years ago in New York, we met in a hotel bar. I just won the role on All My Heart. We drank a few drinks. One thing led to another. We never met each other again until that day in the restaurant.”

Corrinne slumped in her chair, overwhelmed with information. “And you told Bryce, right?” Corrinne questioned after several moments.

Emma choked. She didn’t consider Bryce finding out. “Of course not. And no one is to tell him. He already feels he needs to compete with Tom. We ran into Tom last night at dinner.”

“How’d that go?”

“I left for the restroom. When I got back, Tom seemed tense. And then today…”

“Yes, today. What exactly did Tom say to you?”

Emma recounted the whole exchange.

Corrinne leaned back in her chair and whistled. “Well, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know!!!”

“You better figure it out because right now you are in a relationship with one man while another man is telling you he has feelings for you. And that another man happens to be one of the hottest men on earth.”

Emma slumped in her chair before dropping her head to the table. “How do I get myself into these situations?”

“Talent.” Corrinne snapped as the waiter walked by to place their food down. “Talent and the worst luck ever.”

“Clearly.” Emma shot her a glance. “But what about Bryce?”

“What about Bryce? Do you love him or not? It is that simple.”

Emma fell silent as she picked at her food. Was it that simple? She contemplated the question as she pushed the food around on her plate. She didn’t eat with so much on her mind. It should be that simple but it wasn’t; three lives at stake after all. Over the last year and a half, her life and Bryce’s became more and more intertwined. Ending the relationship would be ugly. Something about how Tom made her feel caused Emma’s stomach to flutter. Her skin burned with fire when he touched her. Her brows furrowed.

As Emma furrowed her brows in deep contemplation, Corrinne sat back and watched her friend toil. Once Emma got something on her mind, she refused to let it go until she came to resolution. Corrinne had learned to watched from the sidelines.

The two women finished up the meal and left their separate ways. Emma returned home, grateful Bryce remained at the gym. She need solitude to work this out.

The rest of the week flew by in a flash. Meetings and fittings filled the rest of Emma’s week. She found herself flustered every time Tom was in the same room as her. Tom caught her reaction; he smiled and laughed every time Emma stumbled or blushed in his presence. He never acted to Emma in any other way than of a friend, but the rumors still flew.

Every time the two of them entered a room, the conversation stopped for a moment. Emma noticed stares and heard sniggering from corners. Tom and Emma kept everything on a professional level but nothing stopped the rumors of something more scandalous going on after hours.

Friday arrived and Emma met the weekend with relief. Two days without the stares and whispers. Two days holed up in her house without a single obligation.

“Any big plans for the weekend?” Tom asked as he popped up behind her.

“Ah!!” Emma yelped at the sudden intrusion. “You scared me. I didn’t notice you.”

“Sorry about that.” Tom chuckled and ran his fingers through his curls. “But you haven’t answered the question.”

“Umm. Yes and no. Today’s my birthday.” Emma responded as she continued to pack up her things.

“Happy Birthday! I imagine you are having a big party with Bryce.” Tom choked on the last word. He hated saying the man’s name.

“Actually, I’m not, just a quiet evening tonight. I’m on my way to pick up the cake.”

“I won’t keep you. I hope you have a good weekend. And call me if you need anything. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Monday. Thanks Tom.”

Tom gave a small nod and walked away with a forced smile on his face. He hated this. He hated not being with Emma. He hated that Bryce is spending her birthday with her instead of him, doing God knows what. The idea made him sick to his stomach. He hurried away so Emma wouldn’t see his face. He didn’t want to make the whole situation more awkward than he already did.

Emma picked up the cake she ordered weeks ago. A sugar and gluten filled confection but she didn’t care; it was her birthday. And for one night, Bryce could take the diet and shove it.

Bryce told her not to make any plans for the weekend and Emma hoped that meant a surprise party. Emma left that morning while Bryce slept and he didn’t respond to her most recent text on the way home. Neither did Corrinne. Bryce gave no hint what her present might be. The entire house sat in darkness as she pulled up. Her stomach flipped at the prospect of a surprise party. She steeled herself for the onslaught when she opened the door.

“Honey…” she started as she entered from the garage, switching on the light in the kitchen. Silence met her words. She glanced around the living area and spied no signs of any celebration at all. The place looked exactly the same as this morning.

Emma walked through the house. “Bryce?”

Nothing. “Bryce? It’s Em!” she called.

Everything appeared untouched until she got to the home gym. In the middle sat a rowing machine with a big bow wrapped around.

“You have to be shitting me.” she groaned.

The rowing machine. That was Bryce’s present to her. A fucking rowing machine.

“Real romantic honey.” she cursed as she flicked off the light and headed back to the kitchen.

At that time, she spotted the note on the island.

Last-minute trip to Austin. Got the big Primal Athletics sponsorship. Be back Sunday. Love, Bry

Emma turned over the note, looking for some mention of her birthday. None. She crumpled up the note and threw it in the garbage. As she pulled a wine glass from the cabinet, she punched in Corrinne’s number.

“Hey, it’s Em. Want to hang out tonight. Bryce ditched me to go to Austin. Call me.”

She tossed the phone on the counter and picked out a bottle of a nice red wine from her stash. After popping the cork, she gave herself a generous pour. Her eyes darted between the cake box and her phone. She took a big gulp of wine and punched in a number. It picked up on the second ring.

“Want to come over for some cake?”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston serie #should

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Forget Me Not (4/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Angst, migraines

A/N: Sorry if there are any mistakes. I’m currently running on three hours of sleep today lol. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3

Home was supposed to be a place where one felt the most at peace. It was supposed to be filled with warmth and love, laughter and joy. Home was a place where you could be yourselves without judgment and where memories could be made to look back upon in the future, perhaps with a tear or a smile.

Keanu could look at any room inside the house, and recall almost everything that has happened in there. The talks and the fights. The kisses and the sex. The pranks and the tender moments. Like a movie, a memory would play in his head, reminding him of what home meant, what home truly was.

And to Keanu, home was you.

But ever since the night of your accident, home didn’t feel like home anymore. It was different, both in a physical and emotional sense. The house became a reflection of Keanu’s crumbling state of mind during those three agonizingly long weeks. It had become disarrayed the moment you had walked out of the front door, lacking the sense of comfort it usually had. Barren and cold, the house was also filled with the most unbearable silence, nearly deafening.

Keanu hated being there when all it did was remind him of you at happier times. He felt suffocated by the four walls surrounding him. Walls, which, aside from him, currently held secrets of the past. It knew every hurtful word and action that you had now forgotten. Keanu wasn’t sure whether or not he should be relieved that the walls couldn’t talk. Because if they did, he wouldn’t be ready for you to come home.

It would only tell you the truth. A painful truth that Keanu still had not shared.

For the last two days, Keanu did his best to tidy up around the house, getting it ready and clean in time for your return. He was running a bit late due to folding the laundry, but he wanted to make sure that the place was immaculate.

The floors had been vacuumed meticulously, leaving the hardwood gleaming under the recessed lights. The dishes were all washed and stored away. Every surface was dusted, every pillow was fluffed. Keanu had even ordered a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers as a surprise and had them displayed in a vase on the coffee table.

Looking around one last time, Keanu realized how more alive the house seemed to be, and he couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of it.

Before leaving to pick you up from the hospital, Keanu quickly checked himself in front of the mirror, also wanting to look presentable for your homecoming. He had trimmed both his beard and his hair yesterday, the dark circles under his eyes were also beginning to brighten up. He was looking more like his usual self now than in the past weeks. It was as if seeing you awake and wanting to stay in Los Angeles with him brought life back to Keanu again.

As Keanu drove to the hospital, scenes from that late stormy evening invaded him. He could never forget the hurt in your eyes, the quivering of your lip as you stared at him in utter shock and disappointment. At times, he could still hear the sound of the front door slamming shut when you left the house, leaving him behind. Then, there was the immense fear and lack of certainty flooding his mind as he rushed to the emergency room after receiving the call.

He had never been so scared and so angry before, and if there was one memory Keanu wanted to forget, it would surely be of this.

Since you woke up, you had never really asked about the events of that night. You only knew bits and pieces from your parents, but not the entire story. There would come a time that you would be so inclined to learn the details of it, and Keanu dreaded for that day to come. He had almost lost you, and if you found out exactly what had happened, he might lose you forever.

And that was the reason why Keanu couldn’t tell you the truth just yet. He was afraid to lose you, despite believing that he didn’t deserve a second chance. Truth be told, he didn’t come back to the hospital after you woke up because he was at war with his own conscience. A part of him wanted to tell you everything and deal with the consequences. But there’s the other part of him that couldn’t handle the thought of letting you go. He wanted to make things right again, undo the damage that he had caused even though the guilt still crept up on him.

One day he would tell you, Keanu promised, but just not today nor the next. For now, he’s focused on bringing back all of the best memories, the ones he knew you both cherished the most.

Parking his car near the entrance, Keanu cursed under his breath when he saw five men lingering by the door with cameras in their hands, acting nonchalantly. He didn’t care that the paparazzi would take pictures of him dashing inside. However, he was more worried about you when it came time to walk out of the hospital. You hadn’t been exposed to this ugly side of fame, and something like this would feel overwhelming.

Putting on his shades, as soon as Keanu got out of his vehicle, he heard the familiar camera shutters around him. He hung his head low as he headed towards the front of the building at a brisk pace, ignoring the overlapping questions that were being shouted at him.

How’s Y/N doing, Keanu?

Keanu, are you still doing that thriller movie later this summer?

Can you update us on Y/N’s condition?

How do you feel about this situation, Keanu? This must be hard on you.

Why was Y/N out driving during that storm?

We thought you and Y/N broke up months ago. Did you two reconcile?

It was only until when Keanu reached the elevator and stepped inside did he finally experience some quietness. Pushing his shades up onto his head, he then pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep sigh simultaneously.

It was moments such as this when he would regret being a public figure. He was extremely grateful for being able to do something that he loved, but there were times when he would ask himself if it was all worth it. Keanu valued his and your privacy, and at a delicate situation like this, that’s what you would need.

The elevator doors opened, and swiftly he walked down the hall to where your room was. He stood by the door for a second, peering into the small window and seeing you laughing with your parents inside. It warmed Keanu’s heart noticing how happy you were because it had been a while since he last saw you that way.

You glanced his way by the door, catching his eyes before gesturing for him to come in.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Keanu began, stepping into the room and shutting the door close behind him. “Are you all set to go?”

“I’m super ready. I haven’t felt the sun on my face in literally weeks,” you announced, hopping off the bed with a grin. “Dad actually suggested if we could have a late lunch together before their flight. Is that okay with you, Keanu?”

“Of course. What are you guys in the mood for?”

“Oh, we could go to that amazing Italian place. I think it’s nearby,” Nancy suggested before turning to her husband. “Pete, what was that restaurant called again?”

“La Cucina,” your father answered. “The food there is the best! You and Keanu treat us there whenever we’re in town. I say, let’s keep up with tradition, shall we?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, reaching down for the set of luggage on the floor.

Keanu held his hand out, signaling for you to stop. “Don’t worry about that. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things so soon. Here, let me help.”

“Son, it’s fine,” Peter swatted Keanu’s hand away and picked up the bags. “Nance, and I will handle them. They’re our bags after all. We decided to bring them now so that we could get dropped off the airport right after eating.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, can I just borrow your car keys so I could load them in the trunk?” Peter asked before inching closer to the actor, speaking in a voice low enough for only Keanu to hear. “I saw the men outside waiting. I’ll bring the car out in the front so that Y/N doesn’t have to go through them.”

Nodding, Keanu took out the keys from his pocket and handed them over to your father. “I drove the SUV today. It’s parked by the edge in the third row.”

“Great!” Peter said before turning to you. “Okay, sweetheart. Your mother and I will bring the car to the entrance. We’ll pick you two up from there so that you don’t have to be on your feet.”

“Dad, I can walk,” you told him with a slight giggle.

“I know you can, but I need you to take it easy for me, Y/N. You promised that, remember?”

Sighing, you pouted at him until eventually, a smile appeared once again. “Okay. I’ll see you and mom downstairs.”

Before your parents left the room with their bags, Peter shot Keanu a look, indicating to him that he needed to warn you about what might happen outside. Now alone in the room, Keanu approached you, a soft smile on his lips, mirroring your own. The sun streaming through the window illuminated your face, the light hitting your eyes in such a way that made them sparkle. You were simply stunning just standing there, your mere beauty causing all thoughts to elude him.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out, and Keanu felt the warmth of his blush as it crawled up his neck. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, n-no,” he stuttered. “I, um… I’m just excited that you’re finally coming home.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as your gaze dropped, a common habit of yours whenever you felt nervous. “Me too. I still have several neurologist appointments in the upcoming weeks, but at least I’m out of here.”

“How are the migraines today?”

Smiling softly, you glanced back up at Keanu. “Haven’t had one since yesterday, actually.”

“That’s good,” Keanu whispered, sitting down on the mattress next to him and watched you do the same. “Your dad’s right. You should be taking it easy for the next couple of days to be safe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m planning on doing. Just take one day at a time.”

Keanu stayed silent for a brief minute before his mouth opened to speak. “Y/N, I have to warn you that there are going to be cameras outside. They’ve been hounding by the entrance after word got out that you were in an accident.”

The smile on your face fell, your brows furrowing. Without hesitation, Keanu reached out to hold your hand, immediately intertwining his fingers with yours. He ran his thumb along the back of your hand in a soothing motion. He knew that it was something you enjoyed him doing whenever you were starting to feel stressed out. It never failed to bring you comfort, and based on your calm expression, it worked yet again.

“Sorry, I’m still not used to it… dating a celebrity, I mean. Who would have thought I’d fallen for Keanu Reeves?”

“It’s a crazy idea to wrap one’s mind around,” he joked, hoping that it would lighten the mood. “It’s nothing to worry about. We’ll only be out there for a quick few seconds.”

“Okay,” you could only say. “You must be tired of the paparazzi.”

“They’re just trying to make a living,” Keanu reasoned. “Still, it’s quite annoying, but you learned to ignore them over time.”

The two of you shared a small laugh together before getting back up on your feet, ready to leave the hospital for good. As Keanu walked down the corridor beside you, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He would have never imagined being in this position almost four weeks ago. He was fortunate that the worst thing that could possibly happen didn’t occur, but instead he was left to face a serious challenge. So far, none of your memories have returned. Though he was hopeful that a miracle would happen somewhere along the way, he was reminded of the chance that this might turn out to be permanent.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Keanu,” you assured him as you took the elevator down to the ground floor. “The doctor said that it can take a while, and we have to be patient with this.”

“I know,” he said softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

You smiled when you heard Keanu echo your words from before. Once the elevator stopped, Keanu led you to the exit where he could see both his car parked out front and the group of men waiting nearby. He paused in his tracks and turned to you. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you whispered tentatively.

Keanu grabbed the pair of sunglasses on his head and placed them over your eyes. “Better?”

You readjusted them a bit on your face before nodding. “Let’s get out there.”

True to his word, you and Keanu were outside for less than five seconds. The cameras clicked and flashed, taking pictures of the two of you quickly walking out of the hospital until you climbed inside the front passenger side. Meanwhile, Keanu took the driver’s seat while Peter joined Nancy at the back. The windows were darkly tinted, shielding you from the prying eyes of the people outside before the car finally pulled away from the curb.

“Are you okay?” Keanu questioned you as he drove further down the street, the sight of the hospital disappearing from the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” you responded, taking off the shades he had given you. “I’m okay.”

Sighing, Keanu knew you all too well. Even though you had said that you were okay, your eyes told an entirely different story.

This was going to be much more complicated than he had initially thought.

---

“How’s the food?” Keanu asked you once you finished chewing.

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you praised excitedly, twirling another forkful of pasta on your plate. “Best Italian restaurant, hands down.”

Nancy chuckled from across the table. “I told you it beats Mario’s from back home. Eating here is one of my highlights every time we visit California. Only coming in second after seeing you and Keanu, of course.”

“I remember the last time we came here, I had seven of their breadsticks!” Peter added jovially. “I couldn’t even eat half of my chicken marsala because I was too stuffed by then.”

Laughing, Keanu then turned to his side where you were sitting. “You know, Y/N, the first time I had brought you here, you used those exact words; ‘best Italian restaurant.’”

“Well, I have to thank you for introducing me to this place,” you replied, lifting your hand up to gently squeeze his arm. The touch was electrifying, and judging by the look on your face, you had felt it too.

For a moment, you and Keanu locked eyes, and he swore that it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. A smile tugged on his lips, and he could sense his cheeks flushing as you stared at him with bright eyes. Seeing a splotch of red sauce on the corner of your mouth, he gingerly wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. His hand lingered by the side of your face, nearly cupping it when Peter’s voice sounded, breaking the entrancement.

“I’m going to the restroom, be right back,” he spoke before excusing himself from the table. “Go order some dessert!”

Keanu heard you giggle as the heat rose to your face. Hearing it made his heart flutter, and suddenly, he felt like a giddy schoolboy around you. What he was feeling at the very second was similar to when you and he went on your first date. It was a sweet reminder of that special night nearly five years ago, and he could only wish that one day, you would remember it too.

“Shit,” you cursed, your eyes clamping shut, and you used the palm of your hand to cover your face. Your body tensed as your breathing grew heavy, an alarming sight to see.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Keanu inquired before glancing at a worried Nancy.

“My head…” you muttered, the pain too intense for you to elaborate.

“Where’s her pain meds?” Nancy wondered, checking her purse to see if she had them.

Keanu grabbed the car keys from his pocket and slid it across the table. “It’s in her bag. She left it under her seat.”

Quickly, Nancy left the restaurant to retrieve your pills as Keanu did all that he could to bring you some comfort. Shrugging off the jacket he wore, he placed it over your head so that the lights inside the restaurant wouldn’t hurt your eyes. He then called a waiter over, asking for a glass of ice.

“What’s happening?” Peter reappeared shortly after, kneeling down next to you, voice laced in concern.

“Migraine. Nancy’s getting her meds from the car.”

Peter nodded, standing up on his feet as the waiter came back with the ice. Keanu urged you to rest the cold glass against your head in hopes of easing the pain. Luckily, the tables around him were empty, and he wasn’t drawing too much attention to you.

“Shh, Y/N,” Keanu murmured softly, draping an around behind your shoulder with one hand resting on your upper arm. “It’s okay. Keep breathing for me, alright. That’s it, baby. Just relax, you’re going to be fine. You’re strong, you can fight this.”

Minutes later, Nancy returned with your medicine in her hand. Fortunately, the migraine was subsiding, and you swallowed two pills, which soon brought you much-needed relief. Eventually, you were able to sit up straight again. Once you convinced your parents that you were feeling better, they left the restaurant to drive the car up to the front as Keanu paid for everyone’s meals.

“Thanks, Keanu,” you said in a soft tone, your eyes showing that same sparkle from earlier. “I appreciate what you did back there.”

“It’s no problem,” he responded, not realizing that he was still holding you close in his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your space—”

“Don’t worry, no harm was done,” you assured him, reaching up to place your hand above the one on your arm, and you had yet to move away from him. “I’m just looking forward to coming home. I feel pretty exhausted all of a sudden.”

Keanu used his free hand to brush a loose lock of your hair from your face, his lips merely inches away from your delicate ones. He fought back the strong urge to lean down and capture them in a sweet kiss, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. Again, he was technically still a stranger to you.

“Well, once we drop off your parents at the airport, I’ll take you back home. To our home.”

“I can’t wait.” You smiled softly at him before tilting your head up, pressing a brief kiss on his cheek, which made him feel warm all over.

Has it really been that long?

---

“Have a safe flight, guys,” you hugged both of your parents tightly as Keanu took their luggage out of the trunk, wheeling them to where you three stood in the airport terminal.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Nancy kissed your forehead, wiping the tears that were escaping your eyes. “Aww darling, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

Shrugging, you then let out a little laugh. “Nothing, it’s just I’ve never been this far away from you and dad before.”

Peter sighed, putting his hands on your cheeks to cradle your face. “You’ll be okay. Remember, we’re one phone call away. If there’s anything that you need, call us. I don’t care if it’s at three in the morning or even if it’s for something you think might be ridiculous. We’re here for you even if we’re thousands of miles away.”

Wrapping your father up in a close embrace, Peter glanced at Keanu, who was standing behind you. He quickly kissed the side of your temple before pulling away. Keanu then watched as Peter leaned in to whisper into your ear, and he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Not long after, Nancy invited him to come over and join them in one last group hug.

“You take good care of our daughter,” Peter stated, lightly tapping on Keanu’s shoulder. “Update us if anything happens.”

Keanu nodded. “I will. You have my word.”

After your parents headed inside, you and Keanu got back into the car and drove out of the terminal. For a while, he noticed you staring out of the open window. You were wearing his sunglasses again, smiling at the way your hair flew into your face as the fresh breeze blew around you. From time to time, he would steal a glance as you bask in the warm sunlight hitting your skin. You seemed so peaceful and so happy as if nothing had happened and things were normal.

“Eyes on the road, Reeves,” you quipped when you caught him staring.

“I can’t help it,” he chuckled, his focus returning to what was in front of him. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I truly am,” came your reply, and moments later, you closed the window back up before turning your head to the side. “Hey, I know you’re wondering what my dad was whispering to me back at the airport.”

“You caught that, huh?”

You gave him a nod as you pushed Keanu’s shades on the top of your head. “He was just reminding me that you’re a good man, and you would take care of me. How you acted when we were at the restaurant was clear proof of it. That's why my parents aren’t worried about leaving me here behind.”

Keanu smiled softly at your words. “I’m really glad that you decided to stay with me.”

“Me too,” you returned. “You’re nothing like my last boyfriend, Eric, and I’m starting to see why I fell for you so soon.”

Eric. The sound of his name still made Keanu feel sick to this day. He would never understand how someone could treat you the way Eric did. But then again, how was Keanu any better for what he had done?

Minutes later, silence filled the car, and when Keanu glanced your way, he saw your eyes drifting close. It had been a long day that’s for sure, and you needed rest. Soon, you had fallen asleep in your seat, leaving Keanu with his wandering thoughts. For now, he cast them aside, choosing to deal with them some other time when he was ready.

With a deep breath, Keanu continued driving down the freeway as the sun began to set over the hills of Los Angeles. Finally, you were on your way home.

Part 5

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#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x you #reader insert #my fics #rpf

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