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averykedavra · 4 years

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A Heart I Couldn’t Silence

Hi everyone! This is late. Very, very late. But I’m doing my best to catch up with these prompts, so here’s a quicker one out of order for day five! It’s cliche to use Virgil for this prompt, but it’s a good cliche, and you can fight me. I’m in it for the cliched fluffy nonsense, okay? Okay. Glad we had this talk.

(Tagging @tsshipmonth2020! Title is from Feel Good by Gryffin and Illenium. Find this story on Ao3 here!)

Prompt: Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience .

Pairing: QPR Moxiety

Words: 7278

Warnings: self-hatred, crying, repression, and other unhealthy coping mechanisms like isolation, anxiety attack, food mention, a lil bit of an identity crisis

Patton feels bad for his soulmate.

He’s never met the guy, gal, or non binary pal, of course. But he knows he has one. He knows implicitly, he feels it, and also the random bursts of anxiety kind of point in that direction, too. His soulmate is anxious. His soulmate doesn’t sleep well because sometimes Patton wakes up to a racing heart and sweaty palms. His soulmate always feels relief at the end of the day, and Patton looks forward to that little bubble of happiness. Good for his soulmate, he always thinks. They’ve made it. Patton’s proud of them.

So yeah. He knows he has a soulmate. And he can always tell which emotions aren’t his own, because they come with little tingly edges. Like lightning zapping his fingers. Sometimes it’s scary or just annoying. Sometimes, when his soulmate is happy—which isn’t as often as Patton would like—it’s intoxicating, a rush of joy that makes Patton want to squeal.

Patton likes having a soulmate.

He’s pretty sure his soulmate doesn’t feel the same way, though.

See, Patton cries a lot.

Patton cries when a movie makes him happy. Patton cries when a movie makes him sad. Patton cries when he sees a really cute puppy. Patton cries when he fails a test. Patton cries when someone else is crying. Patton cries over everything—he has, literally, cried over spilled milk. It looked really sad sitting on the floor like that, and Patton also knew he had to clean it up, and it was a waste of milk, and before he knew it he was sniffling.

Patton cries over everything. Patton also, sometimes, cries over nothing at all. He just sits on the couch and his eyes prickle and he starts bawling, curling up and pressing his hands to his mouth and crying over nothing like a baby.

He just cries sometimes. He just gets upset sometimes and he’s learned to deal with that. Kind of. Maybe.

Not really, if he’s being honest.

But it’s fine! He’s happy the rest of the time, so it doesn’t really matter that sometimes he starts sobbing randomly at two in the morning. Maybe it’s repression. Maybe it’s being a teenager. Maybe it’s just the way Patton works. And honestly, he’s mostly okay with it. He’d much rather feel terrible for little moments of time than feel vaguely bad almost all the time. Not like he gets a choice—he can’t control how he feels.

Patton’s fine.

He’s worried his soulmate isn’t, though.

His soulmate, who can feel all his strongest emotions, good and bad.

God, his soulmate must think he’s a mess.

He’s not a mess. Mostly. Is he?

He’s tried very hard not to be. Or at least, to make it look like he’s not. Patton doesn’t like to lie, but this isn’t lying, it’s just…obscuring the truth? Ugh, wow, that sounds really bad.

It’s keeping private stuff private. It’s staying perky for his friends, because they need an anchor, someone to rely on. Patton is the happy one. The helpful one. And if he’s not helpful--if he doesn’t earn his keep--they won’t keep him around.

He hates that he thinks this. His friends are such wonderful people--he knows that, they’re amazing, they’re so kind and intelligent and fantastic--but he’s still scared, because he can’t possibly measure up, he can’t be as good as they are and the moment he slips up they’ll all see it. Everything will crumble and it’ll be all his fault.

They’ll see that he tries. They’ll see that he’s failed. And he won’t blame them for leaving him behind.

Maybe it’s not true. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s just another thing that his brain thinks up to make him cry but maybe it’s not. And can Patton take the risk?

Sometimes, he thinks he can.

Most of the time? No.

No, he’s just going to stay quiet, grin and bear it, keep everything from crumbling. His friends struggle. They fumble. They stumble through high school and they’re doing so great and it’ll just make them feel bad if Patton tells them. They don’t deserve another person to worry about.

Not that anything’s worrying, of course.

Patton’s fine.

He’s fine, he has everything handled, and even if he cries too much, he’s gotten good at holding it in until he’s alone.

He’s fine. He has so many good friends. His grades are good. Everything’s perfect and he’s not perfect but he’s good at pretending to be.

And he cries sometimes, but who doesn’t?

The only person who might be able to tell is his soulmate.

But Patton hasn’t met them yet, so it’s fine.

Everything’s completely fine.

---

“Everything is shit,” Virgil complains, collapsing into his chair and tossing his stuff on the desk with a thunk.

“Hey, honey, no!” Patton frowns. “What happened?”

“I just said. Everything.”

“Well, be more specific, then.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, and Patton can see a smirk already growing. Good, Virgil is relaxing.

“I’m pretty sure I bombed my test for earth systems,” Virgil grumbles. “I hate that whole class. Like, I don’t need to know earth systems. The earth is round and green and full of terrifying creatures. Why does it matter how it got born?”

Patton smiles and pats Virgil’s head. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You didn’t see the questions.” Virgil slumps over and drapes himself across Patton’s shoulder. It’s an awkward position. Patton’s a foot or so away, sitting at his own desk. But Patton just shifts and lets Virgil curl up next to him like a hoodied ball. Virgil’s head lolls on Patton’s shoulder. Patton stares for maybe a little longer than he should at the bridge of Virgil’s nose, the dye at the edges of his hair, the little ring in his lip. “I’m doomed.”

“Come on, be optimistic.” Patton knows Virgil takes to optimism like a dragon takes to embroidery, but practice makes progress! “You can’t know until you get the results back.”

“Yeah, I can,” Virgil mumbles. “I feel it. In my soul.”

“Is your soul lying to you?”

“How dare you. My soul is pure and untarnished.”

“Oh, really?” Patton shakes his head. “Might need to have some proof of that, mister.”

“You’re insulting my soul.” Virgil sits upright, thumping his chest. "Look at it. It’s wonderful.”

“I can’t see it,” Patton says.

“Look closer.” Virgil leans over intently. “It’s black, you know. But that doesn’t mean it’s a liar.”

Patton giggles. “So your soul is evil and black and emo but doesn’t lie?”

“My soul has standards.”

“I’m sure it does.” Patton smiles at Virgil. “But I don’t think it’s your soul that’s saying you failed the test.”

“My heart, then.” Virgil thumps his heart. “My old, blackened heart, shriveled yet still speaking the truth--and the truth is that I fucked up, Pat.”

“You did not!” Patton folds his arms. “You know what I think? I think it isn’t your heart or soul that’s telling you that.”

“Then what?” Virgil asks. He’s smiling. Good job, Patton, you did it!

“I think it’s a meanie little bit of brain.” Patton pokes at Virgil’s head. Virgil swats his hand away halfheartedly. “And it’s wrong. You did great, because you’re you--and even if you didn’t, we can’t do anything about it now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil shifts. “Um, thanks, Pat.”

“No problem!” Patton grins. “What are best friends for?”

“They’re for being quiet,” Janus calls from a few desks behind them. “Class is starting, guys.”

Virgil squeaks and flushes. Patton feels a pit of anxiety in his own stomach, which is odd, until he realizes it’s his soulmate. They must be nervous about something. He hopes they’re okay--and sure enough, as the lesson starts, the anxiety fades from his heart.

His soul.

Patton peeks at Virgil, who is drumming a pencil on his desk. Virgil catches his eye and smiles just a bit. Patton smiles back.

He wonders who Virgil’s soulmate is. Virgil doesn’t talk about his much, unlike Janus and Roman. He’s mentioned once or twice that his soulmate is really emotional.

People have trouble, sometimes, telling who their soulmate is. Because emotions are weird and complicated and sometimes people can fake them or they just come off different. So some people go through life never being sure of their soulmate, knowing maybe this person happens to have some similar feelings but it could be a coincidence, who knows.

Other people? They say they knew instantly. They felt it, the moment they met.

Patton hasn’t felt it with anyone. Which is good. Because he doesn’t really want to meet his soulmate all that much.

He hopes Virgil finds his.

He deserves it.

Patton sighs a bit, turns away, and feels a little thrum of happiness in his stomach. His soulmate is happy, relieved about something. Comfortable.

Patton wishes he was the same way.

But good for them.

---

Patton’s headed to math when Virgil accosts him in the hallway. Well, accosts is a strong word. But also kind of accurate. Virgil grabs his arm and pulls him into an empty classroom with no more than a hello.

Patton’s already had a bit of a rough day. He ran out of cereal this morning and cried about it, and his soulmate is really anxious right now which is making all his nerves crawl and screech and flail about. So he hates to admit it, but he really hopes this will be quick.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says slowly. “What’s up?”

Virgil barely responds. He’s hopped up onto a desk and now he’s tucking his legs to his chest. His knuckles are white on his hoodie.

Okay. Yeah. This...seems like a bad sign.

Patton swallows down the torrent of emotions in his gut and walks closer.

“Virgil,” he says softly, “hey.”

Virgil bites his lip, grabs at his binder, and shoves a paper into Patton’s hands. Patton reads it.

It’s Virgil’s earth systems test from last week.

The number circled in red is a very low number. And the letter next to it is a large spiky F.

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton says, looking up.

“I fucking knew it.” Virgil’s voice is tight. He’s not looking at Patton. He’s looking at the ground like he wants to stab it. “I fucking knew I’d screw it up, I didn’t study, I don’t know shit and now I’m going to fail--”

“Hey. Hey. Easy.” Patton reaches over to Virgil and stops himself. “Can I touch you?”

Virgil shakes his head.

“Okay. That’s okay. Thanks for telling me, honey.”

Virgil’s curling even tighter into himself. And the anxiety in Patton’s stomach is ratcheting up a level or seven, tightening like a winch.

Of course his soulmate is anxious the moment Patton needs to comfort his best friend. Of course.

Patton pushes it down like he always does. He sits cross-legged beneath Virgil, who is practically a ball of hoodie at this point, and gives him an encouraging smile. He can’t tell if Virgil sees it. Virgil’s face is hidden in his arms. He’s shaking.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

Patton can do this.

No matter that his insides feel like he’s being squeezed and pressed into a pulp. This is fine. He can pull it together and help his best friend.

“Breathe,” he says, trying to keep his own voice steady. “In and out, Virgil, okay?”

Virgil takes a breath so huge and raspy Patton can almost feel it. His stomach flips once, twice, three times.

He starts tapping a four-seven-eight rhythm on the ground. For both of them. Because his soulmate is panicking and Virgil is panicking and Patton is going to panic too if he's not careful.

He pushes it down.

He always, always pushes it down. Because Virgil comes first.

“Breathe,” he tells Virgil. “In and out.”

Virgil breathes.

Virgil is so, so good like that.

“Keep breathing, you’re doing great.” Patton pauses. “Want me to talk? You don’t have to listen, just keep breathing. Okay?”

Virgil gives him a short nod.

“So,” Patton starts, “I saw the cutest puppy the other day! And since it wasn’t a cat, I could pet it! I got to pet it, and it jumped up and licked my face--really energetic--I love dogs, you know that, and it was just really nice and I felt all happy inside and I want a dog--”

He’s rambling.

He’s rambling and he hopes Virgil doesn’t notice or care, because words are hard to string together when his hear is still hammering. He wishes he could calm his soulmate down, too.

He’s rambling and he hopes against hope that Virgil’s feeling better.

“--and I really think a movie night would be fun, if Roman doesn’t hog all the popcorn again, we could finally watch Brave because I missed it when it came out and I’ve been wanting to see it--”

Virgil’s still breathing. He’s uncurling, bit by bit. Patton catches a flash of dark eyes and almost beams.

“--movie nights are just the best! We should plan one, maybe!” Patton glances at Virgil. “I’d certainly love it--it’d be a reel treat to film my days with your company!”

And Virgil snorts, just a bit.

Patton smiles to himself. There he is.

“You’re breathing?” he asks Virgil.

“Yeah,” Virgil manages.

“Is touching okay?”

“Yeah.”

Patton gets up slowly and scooches next to Virgil. They barely fit on the desk but he balances on the edge and manages to stay on top. He places a hand on Virgil’s, and Virgil leans into him, sighing a bit.

He’s less anxious. And, weirdly, so is Patton--his soulmate has calmed down a bit, too. Patton smiles. He threads an arm around Virgil and sits there, feeling Virgil’s chest expand against his own. He imagines he can feel Virgil’s soul, flickering and dark but never lying, pressed up next to him.

His soulmate is calm. Virgil is calm. And Patton’s calm too.

Everything’s calm.

Of course, that’s when the alarm rings. Virgil shrieks and flails about, and Patton’s own chest sparks with panic, because apparently his soulmate has just been startled, but they’re calming down and Virgil’s calming down and it’s okay now--

Wait.

Virgil is calming down. Patton’s soulmate is calming down. Both had been really anxious recently and now both are okay but both got startled suddenly and both--

Both--

Patton’s staring. He’s staring at Virgil, his best friend, who he’s known for a year and a half ever since Virgil switched to their school. He knows Virgil’s favorite color--purple. He knows Virgil’s favorite band--Evanescence. He knows Virgil’s favorite food--potato chips. He knows Virgil’s schedule, he knows Virgil’s middle name, he knows Virgil’s house almost as well as he knows his own.

He knows Virgil, but suddenly, he feels like maybe he hasn’t known Virgil at all.

“Hey,” Patton says. He hopes his blind panic doesn’t leak into his voice. “Did I tell you? I got an A on my art assignment!”

“Really?” Virgil grins at him. “That’s great, Pat.”

And a flash of pride flickers through Patton’s chest, lightning in his heart.

“We should hurry up,” he tries, “we’re bound to be late.”

Virgil groans. “Oh, shit, you’re right.”

Panic. Annoyance. The pride fades and is replaced by...guilt?

“Sorry,” Virgil says only a second later. “I made you late, I--that wasn’t cool.”

“What? No, it’s fine!” Patton reaches out and squeezes Virgil’s hand. “I don’t mind, okay, honey? Talk to me anytime you need.”

“Thanks,” Virgil says, the gratitude clear in his voice. “You’re the best, Pat.”

Thankfulness, care, love, a soup in Patton’s stomach, making him feel dizzy.

Patton’s discomfort must show on his face, because Virgil frowns. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Patton forces out, shoving down the maelstrom of emotions in his mind. “I--my soulmate’s really going through the feelings right now, is all.”

“Oh," Virgil says, nodding. “Got it.”

“What’s your soulmate like?” Patton asks hesitantly as they walk toward the hallway together.

“Hard to tell.” Virgil pauses at the doorway and gives Patton a little salute. “They’re sad a lot, though.”

“Oh,” Patton manages, and then he starts walking down the hallway without even saying goodbye.

---

This isn’t a big deal.

Virgil is Patton’s best friend. Virgil, unless he’s lying to Patton--and why would he?--doesn’t know Patton’s his soulmate. Patton might have a bit of a squish on Virgil, and this is confirmation that they’re meant to be together. He could tell Virgil and they could be happy. Or he could not tell Virgil, and they could still be happy.

Either way, it’s not a big deal.

So why is Patton standing in the lobby and trying not to cry?

He’d managed to get through ten minutes of math. Then he grabbed a bathroom pass and wandered through the hallways until he ended up here. He’s next to the display case and the theater where Roman always practices--he reads a few plaques on the cups and trophies but he doesn’t recognize any of the names. Every time he moves, his shoes ring out against the endless stone floor.

He’s missing math class. He should care more about that, and he will, when he’s struggling to catch up later. Right now, though, all he can think of is Virgil.

Virgil, who he jokes with in every class they have together. Virgil, who sits with him at lunch and trades his chips for one of Patton’s cookies. Virgil, who’s quiet and snarky and talks bad about himself too much and is just so wonderful and sweet and amazing and--Patton’s soulmate.

Patton’s met his soulmate, and he hadn’t even realized.

Because it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care that Virgil’s his soulmate. It doesn’t change anything.

Ugh.

Patton leans forward and presses his head against the cool glass of the trophy case.

It should make him feel better that his soulmate isn’t a stranger, that they’re compatible, that they’re friends. He’s always felt terrible for his soulmate. It should make him feel better that his soulmate seems to like him despite everything.

Except it doesn’t. Except Patton feels like he wants to sink into the glass case and disappear.

Footsteps behind him. Patton jerks upright and sees someone walking down the hallway towards him. He glances around for an escape. The door to the theater is cracked open.

Patton slips inside.

It’s a big theater, just got renovated last year. The lights are all off. The chairs are clustered together in the darkness and Patton does his best to avoid them, walking down one of the aisles and heading to the stage.

He’s been here a million times. Roman is a theater kid, and so is Janus, and Virgil--

Virgil helps with props.

Virgil helps with props, and he’s annoyed at Roman for always messing with the organization, and one time he spilled paint on the stage and he still feels guilty about it. Virgil loves raising the curtains. Virgil freaked out when the orchestra pit first opened because he was afraid he would fall. Virgil wrote his name in the corner of one of the seats during a three-hour-long assembly. Virgil helped fold up the programs.

Patton knows everything about Virgil.

How much does Virgil know about him?

How much is there for Virgil to know?

Patton isn’t a person. He’s a collection of smiles and words he’s crafted to make other people feel better. He’s a facade. And what’s under there? Who is he, underneath all the stuff he does for other people?

He doesn’t know. Not really.

How can he be someone’s soulmate if he can’t feel his own soul?

Patton touches a hand to his chest and imagines it. He pictures a butterfly with wings of light, fluttering around his heart, caged but tied to Virgil’s soul with a shimmering thread. Two halves of a whole, although that’s a kinda outdated phrase. It’s not about making your soulmate complete, it’s about being there for them and helping them be better.

Patton wants to feel better. But he doesn’t know how.

And what is ‘better’ anyway? What is happy? He knows how to act happy, and he thinks he is happy sometimes, but does he know? If he’s happy, why does he cry so much?

Why is he crying?

Patton swipes at his face. Tears smear on his favorite blue shirt. He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

All the lights are off in the theatre. Patton climbs onto the stage and sits on the edge. His legs dangle off, and even though his feet are only a few inches from the ground, he feels like he’s floating.

The wood is smooth under his hands and hard enough to almost hurt. Patton looks up at the ceiling and counts the stage lights, all turned off, aimed different directions and bubbled like melted glass. The curtain sits behind him, dusty and crimson and worn in places.

The seats fan out around him, like an audience.

Patton curls his hands around the edge of the stage and takes another deep breath.

Virgil always sits right there. They went to one of Roman’s performances together, the night Virgil had off, and Virgil bought Patton some snacks so they shared them as they whispered to each other and laughed at the not-very-funny jokes. Virgil left his hand on the arm of his chair and Patton grabbed it under the guise of being afraid of the sudden blasts of music. Virgil didn’t seem to mind. And it was platonic, of course it was, and Patton was disappointed in that, but in the moment he couldn’t imagine anything better--his face was on fire and the lights shone before them and Virgil was inches away.

The lights are off now. Patton is sitting on an empty stage, and he’s going to miss the rest of math class if he’s not careful.

He’s left tears on the wood.

Virgil.

Patton is alone, and Patton is scared, and Virgil can probably feel it, can’t he, and he doesn’t know who Patton is now but soon he’ll find out and he’ll pity Patton, or get worried, or leave him behind--

Who says he has to find out?

They’re sad a lot.

Patton isn’t sad a lot. At least, Virgil doesn’t think he is. So why would Virgil think Patton’s his soulmate? If Virgil hasn’t figured it out by now, what would change?

You found out today, says a nasty voice in the back of his mind. Why can’t he?

Be quiet, Patton tells it.

Virgil won’t find out.

Virgil won’t find out and everything will be fine.

So: game plan. Go back to math class. Continue life as normal. And just don’t tell Virgil, best friend and squish, that they’re soulmates.

Perfect. Patton can absolutely do this.

---

Patton absolutely can’t do this.

Okay, the thing is, he’s a terrible liar. Like, really bad. Like, tried-to-throw-a-surprise-party-and-blurted-out-the-secret-on-day-two bad. Every time he’s supposed to not mention something, it suddenly becomes the only thing he can think about.

So every time Patton sees Virgil, he immediately starts thinking about the fact that they’re soulmates and Patton can’t tell him and Patton is a terrible friend and he shouldn’t be thinking about them being soulmates and they’re soulmates.

Which means every time Patton sees Virgil, he panics.

Virgil’s catching on. Patton usually manages to recover himself after a few seconds, but he also ends up leaving, cutting the conversation short to spare himself the chance of messing things up. Virgil can tell. Virgil’s worried. Virgil’s a good friend like that.

Virgil’s a good friend who’s his soulmate and Patton can’t tell him--

Well, Patton could. Then he’d have to deal with the pain of his best friend leaving him.

So yeah. Not really an option.

"Hey,” Virgil says during lunch. “You okay? You’ve been...kind of distant lately?”

“I’m fine,” Patton says. “Just tired.”

“Hey,” Virgil says after school. “Wanna hang out later?”

“No thanks,” Patton says. “I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“We could do it together?”

“I’m really busy.” Patton gives him a smile. “Next time.”

“Ugh, I hate earth systems,” Virgil complains as he falls into the chair next to Patton. Patton gives him a sympathetic smile, swallows, and looks way.

“Chips for cookies?” Virgil asks during lunch.

“Of course,” Patton says, handing Virgil a cookie and getting a bag of chips in return. He doesn’t even like cookies, but it’s a good excuse to share his cookies with Virgil. He bakes them every weekend. Virgil likes chocolate chip. Patton draws little hearts in icing sometimes.

“So,” Virgil says, biting into the cookie and groaning, “how was class?”

“Good,” Patton says, and he pushes the chips into his lunch box and doesn’t eat them.

“Did I...” Virgil’s hesitant, drumming his fingers on his backpack. “Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”

Patton stares at him in horror for a few seconds. “No!” he finally blurts out, but he can’t think of how to elaborate, and the tears are already welling up--

“I have to go,” he says, and he pushes his way into the crowd and vanishes.

Virgil’s worried. Virgil has a right to be. Virgil is so good and cares so much and of course he’s upset that Patton’s suddenly distancing himself, of course he’s trying to help--

And Patton wishes he could stop. He really, really wishes he could. But that means he has to be around Virgil more, and explain what happened, and Virgil will know that Patton’s his soulmate and he’ll know that Patton’s a mess--

Well, maybe he already knows.

It’s getting harder to hide.

Patton can’t focus. School drips around him and everything goes through one ear and out the other. Patton tries to concentrate, he really does, but his mind is all scrambled up like a twisted ball of yarn, and if Patton tugs on one string nothing happens but if he tugs on another the whole thing collapses to threads.

“Is everything okay?” Roman asks one afternoon, giving Patton a searching expression. “Virgil says you’re avoiding him, and he’s really worried about it--”

"I’m fine,” Patton says firmly, as if he can turn a lie to truth through sheer force of will.

And Roman gives him a look.

Roman knows something is wrong.

And now Patton is avoiding his other friends. Patton is signing up for study sessions he doesn’t need so he can get away from the cafeteria and stay after school when they’d usually hang out. Roman invites him to rehearsal. Patton pretends he has to look after his neighbor’s dog. Janus asks him if he wants to go out for ice cream. Patton manufactures a family gathering. Virgil asks him if he’s okay, and Patton lies.

Patton’s lying so much.

He hates himself for it, and he can’t stop.

It’s like...like candy. Like Patton’s starving and little lie-candies are right there and they fill him up quickly and buy him more time. And he knows they’re not healthy, knows he can’t do this forever, but he just needs a little more time, something to tide him out of this one interaction, he’ll fix it later--

He doesn’t know if he can fix this.

Things are very quickly becoming unfixable.

Patton is a mess, and the world is overwhelming, and he almost starts crying in Spanish class because he can’t remember the word for hat, and everyone’s staring at him and he wants to just curl up into a little ball and disappear--

He fakes sick the next day.

He’s lying to his parents now. Great. That’s what good people do--lie to everyone they’ve got left in their corner.

He lies to his parents, and they believe them, because he’s never lied to them before.

He stays home. He watches TV and purposely puts on some of his favorite movies. The ones that always make him cry. And he finds himself dry-eyed, staring at Mufasa’s death scene and unable to feel anything, and the tears just stick in his throat and refuse to budge.

He cries later. He cries when Virgil sends him a text of a cute puppy and tells him to feel better soon. He stares at his screen and cries.

Because Virgil is such a good friend.

Patton doesn’t deserve Virgil as his soulmate.

He doesn’t want to leave Virgil on read, so he quickly writes back “I will.”

No heart emoji. No “thank you.” No nothing, because what is Patton supposed to write, I’m not sick and also I won’t feel better because I’m a terrible person and also your soulmate?

Maybe Virgil can feel Patton’s sadness like a lump in his own stomach. It would be enough to make Patton stop wallowing, if Patton even knew how.

It’s a good day at home. Patton makes himself a croissant for lunch and sleeps through dinner. He ends up scrolling on his phone at three in the morning, trying to find a new TV show to watch. None of them catch his eye so he just watches The Office bloopers again. Not healthy, but who cares? The rest of his life is a mess, why not stay up late?

Saw this and thought of u

It’s Virgil. He sent a cinnamon roll. There’s a little smiley face under it. Virgil always texts with all lower-case, and he shouldn’t be up this late, and it must have been really nerve-wracking for him to send that cinnamon roll.

Because Patton’s a cinnamon roll.

Patton laughs a bit and then he feels like crying.

He leaves Virgil on read. He can’t bring himself to care.

He’s probably messed up everything anyway.

---

Patton knows he can’t pull off being “sick” two days in a row, as much as he’d like to. So he sucks it up and drags himself out of bed. There are huge bags under his eyes and he feels like crap inside and out. Well, at least he has the excuse of having been “sick.”

He figured a day’s break would make him feel better about facing Virgil again.

He was really wrong.

The moment he saw Virgil, eyeshadow and purple jacket and fluffy little bangs, Patton’s heart felt like it had been crushed into a little pile of pieces. He’s been ignoring Virgil’s little zaps of feeling, but now they’re back with a vengeance. Virgil is jittery. He’s worried. And Patton can guess what about.

“Glad you’re back,” he says, and nothing else.

Patton pretends it doesn’t hurt.

He needs to fix this, he tells himself. Maybe he should tell Virgil that they’re soulmates. But what good would that do? Virgil’s upset with him, and for good reason. Patton just distanced himself from everyone out of panic, and now he has no idea how to rebuild those bridges.

He’ll have to explain himself somehow, and he has no idea how.

And why would Virgil even forgive him?

Virgil, who’s barely looked at him, whose knuckles are white on his seat. He flops into his chair and mutters something about earth systems, but it’s not to Patton, and he doesn’t even look Patton’s way.

Patton swallows down the ache.

He doesn’t have an excuse for missing lunch, so he sits at their usual table. He brings a book and pretends he needs to finish it. Nobody bothers him. Roman asks what he’s reading but trails off mid-sentence and leaves him be.

Patton tries to keep all his feelings down when he’s near them, to look okay and feel okay so Virgil feels okay and everything stays above water.

He follows Virgil out of the cafeteria, opens his mouth to call after him, and finds no words.

“What?” Virgil asks, turning around.

Patton just shakes his head.

Virgil looks...disappointed. He nods, though, and turns away.

Patton stands in the hallway and watches his best friend disappear. He wishes, for some stupid reason, that Virgil will turn around. Virgil doesn’t.

Virgil leaves him behind.

And that’s what Patton didn’t want all along, what he tried to prevent, what he lied to prevent--and he’s here anyway, because this is what he knew would happen, and fuck, why can’t he do anything right--

Patton runs.

Patton runs into the bathroom, locks the stall door, and stays there for a very long time.

---

Patton’s messed up.

And he hates it.

And he will do anything to make it right--

Will he?

Can he do this?

He has to.

He doesn’t think he could bear it if he lost Virgil for good.

---

Patton knows Virgil’s schedule by heart. So he slips into the hallway where Virgil passes by, sneaks out, and takes Virgil’s hand. Virgil starts and turns to look at him. Patton feels a storm of emotions batter him and he doesn’t bother trying to parse them.

“Come with me?” Patton asks softly, tugging at Virgil’s hand. “If that’s okay?”

Virgil glances up at the clock. Two minutes until math class. Patton is missing math again. Well. Some things are more important.

Of course, Virgil could easily say no, that he has class and Patton has some nerve to just walk up and ask to talk like nothing happened--

“Okay,” Virgil says. It’s so quick and so simple that Patton almost cries right then and there. But he shakes himself and leads Virgil out of the hallway, back to that empty classroom. He sits on the ground next to a desk. Virgil hops on top of another desk and swings his legs out, watching Patton carefully.

“What’s up?” Virgil finally asks, probably trying to be casual but failing miserably. Patton gives him a small smile for his effort.

“We’re--” The words get stuck. Patton tries again. “I--”

“Hey, you okay?” Virgil slides off the desk and kneels by Patton. “Who am I kidding, of course you’re not, you haven’t been for weeks and I should have fucking checked on you, I’m sorry--”

“No.” Patton shakes his head vehemently, because when in doubt, he can focus on Virgil talking bad about himself. “It’s okay, Virgil. I promise. It was my fault.”

“If you say so.” Virgil drops all the way to the ground. “So. Wanna talk about it?”

Patton presses a hand to his mouth. He’s not supposed to cry yet, he still needs to explain--

But the way Virgil’s looking at him, so soft, as if Patton hasn’t ghosted him for the past week--

“I--” Patton stammers out. “You--we--I’m sorry!”

“Okay.” Virgil nods. “Good start, Pat. Keep going.”

“I’m sorry, I--” Patton waves his hands. “I just left you, and I didn’t explain why, and that must have felt horrible, and I don’t want to stop being friends with you, I really don’t, and I’m so, so sorry--”

“Okay.” Virgil reaches over and takes Patton’s hands in his own. “What happened? Could you tell me that?”

“Do you--” Patton chokes on his own words. “Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know.” Virgil gives him a wry little smirk. “Depends on the reason, Pat.”

“O-okay,” Patton says. “I--we--”

“Take your time.” Virgil scoots closer until he’s almost close enough to hug, to lean on, and Patton can’t bring himself to close the gap. “Take your time, Pat, I’m listening.”

“We--” Patton screws his eyes shut. “We’re soulmates.”

Virgil’s hands spasm in his own.

“We’re soulmates,” Patton repeats, as if the words will sound less ugly the second time around.

“We’re what?” Virgil asks. His voice is breathless. Patton opens one eye and sees Virgil staring at him, eyes wide.

“Soulmates,” Patton says a third time. It still sounds wrong to him.

A beautiful, twisted kind of wrong--where it could be right, it could be so right, if Patton wasn’t so close to tears.

“Soulmates,” Virgil echoes.

It sounds better when he says it.

“Yeah, I figured it out--” Patton’s voice breaks. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, c’mon.” Virgil’s gentle reminder is almost an afterthought, though. He looks like Patton’s slapped him. “Soulmates. You’re--you’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. It all matches up.”

Virgil is quiet for a long moment. “My soulmate’s upset.”

Patton nods. “I’m upset.”

“I can tell.” Virgil shifts until he’s next to Patton instead of in front of him. It helps. Patton feels less caged-in now. He leans back against the desk and the cool metal legs dig into his back. “So...why’d that freak you out so much?”

Patton takes a deep, shuddering breath.

Virgil’s fingers tap a familiar rhythm on his palm. Four-seven-eight. Four-seven-eight. Four-seven-eight.

Patton breathes again, and again, and again.

“Because we’re--” Patton swallows. “You know what your soulmate is like. Upset. Sad.”

“Not all the time.”

“Too much.” Patton’s hands curl around Virgil’s. “I--I figured--I try so hard to deal with it, and--”

“Deal with what?” Virgil asks. Something’s flickering across his face and Patton can’t tell what it is.

“Deal with...” Patton searches for words. “Crying?”

“Deal with crying.” Virgil looks upset. Or angry. Patton can’t tell and he could try and figure it out with his soulmate bond, but that feels like cheating, and he’s in no state to parse out Virgil’s emotions from his own. “Deal with crying? Why?”

“‘Cause I’m not supposed to--” Patton swallows. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Worry?” Virgil repeats like he’s never heard the word in his life.

“You’ve got all your stuff going on,” Patton says, waving a hand at Virgil, “and I don’t wanna add to that, and I thought I could handle it but then you’re my soulmate so you can tell and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to--to pity me or baby me--and I can’t--I can’t be a good friend or a good soulmate if I’m this much of a mess. I can’t be--I can’t be anything!” Patton stares at his lap. “I’m not anything. Not really. So much of me--it’s just not real, honey.”

“Oh.” Virgil sounds absolutely heartbroken. “Oh, Pat.”

Patton sniffs and raises a hand to press away the tears.

“Pat, c’mon, look at me.” Virgil tucks a hand under Patton’s chin and lifts it up. “There we go. Okay?”

Patton stares at Virgil, who’s smiling at him, one hand brushing over Patton’s cheek.

“I’m sorry you felt like that,” Virgil says. “That’s really shitty and you’ve had a rough couple of weeks. But--Pat, being upset once in a while doesn’t mean you’re not you.”

“Me is--someone who you want me to be!” Patton bursts out. “I’m whatever you guys need and now I ruined it and I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh,” Virgil says again, and moves closer. “Pat, no.”

Patton looks at the ground again.

“You help me.” Virgil says it simply. “But--what, do you think you’re only helpful because you’re cheerful or whatever? You’re only helpful because you put aside your own stuff for mine? Do you think--” Virgil pauses. “Do you really think you’ve ruined stuff by making one mistake?”

Patton shudders.

“Come on. C’mere.” Virgil extends his arms. “C’mon, you need a hug. ‘Cause you’re my fucking best friend, that’s why. And my soulmate too. I don’t fucking care if you get upset. Friends help each other, that’s the entire goddamn point.”

Patton looks up.

“C’mere,” Virgil says again. “I wanna make you feel better.”

“I don’t think I can,” Patton admits, and it feels like he’s dredging up something painful inside of him--a thick rock in his chest that’s finally loosening. “I don’t know how.”

“Fine, then, forget the ‘better’ part.” Virgil shrugs. “I wanna let you feel shitty. How about that?”

Patton leans forward, and Virgil meets him halfway.

He curls into Virgil’s chest. He’s never been hugged by Virgil, not like this, and he’s never known how strong Virgil can be. Virgil wraps an arm around his shoulders and runs his other hand down Patton’s side. Almost involuntarily, Patton chokes on a sob.

“I’m gonna cry,” he warns.

“Go ahead.” Virgil’s voice rumbles in Patton’s chest. “Do it as much as you want--I don’t mind.”

Patton’s breath hitches. He tries to hold it in, out of habit, but Virgil’s hand has come up to rest in his hair and Patton has always been an easy crier.

He buries his face in Virgil’s hoodie and sobs.

The bell rings. Neither of them move.

Patton cries until he runs out of tears. Patton cries until the entire front of Virgil’s jacket is wet. He cries until his eyes burn and he feels like he’s been strung out and emptied and carved away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into Virgil’s shoulder.

“I forgive you,” Virgil says. “Always, Pat.”

“I don’t--” Patton raises his head and blinks away the last of the tears. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Drink some water?” Virgil laughs. “No clue, Pat, you’ve gotta figure that one out for yourself.”

Patton nods.

“But I’ve got you, okay?” Virgil leans in and wipes at Patton’s eyes. “You’re my friend because I like you--you’re cute and funny and sweet and you make terrible puns and you make the best cookies. You’re not made up of the things you do for others, and your identity isn’t what other people think of you.” Virgil pauses. His eyes are misty. “And if you want to think of it this way--you help me the most by being you. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever needed.”

Patton feels like he might cry again. He settles for a combination squeal-giggle.

“And we’re soulmates.” Virgil blinks a few times. “Holy fuck, we’re soulmates. Holy fuck.”

“Language,” Patton chides, because the swearing is easier to address than the soulmates.

“I mean, I hoped--” Virgil seems to catch himself. “I...did have some--ideas--about who it could be. But I didn’t really--it seemed too much to ask for.”

“You wanted it to be me,” Patton says.

“Yep.” Virgil looks sheepish. “You’re--y’know, you’re the best, Pat.”

“You wanted it to be me.” Patton shakes his head. “You--you want? Me?”

“More than anything.” Virgil leans forward and presses their foreheads together. “Okay?”

“Definitely okay,” Patton manages. “So much more than okay.”

“Thank fucking god.” Virgil snorts. “All this time I’ve been pining away and you were right there--my soulmate--the whole time?”

“Apparently?” Patton grins. “Um, surprise? Your soul chose me?”

Virgil smiles back. “Well, my soul does have standards.”

Patton’s grin melts into something even more soppy and lovesick. He doesn’t mind.

“I--um--” Virgil scratches the back of his neck. “I--you--y’know--”

“I love you,” Patton says. “If...that’s what you were trying to say?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, looking relieved. “I...I’m better with leaving it an understood thing. But yeah.”

“Understood!” Patton giggles. “We’re...um, we’re late for math?”

Virgil shrugs. “You miss math for me all the time. I’ll miss math for you.”

“Romantic,” Patton teases.

“You know it.” Virgil pulls Patton closer. “I--I never minded, by the way. When you were sad. You were excited other times, and either way--it always felt like you. Sad or happy. It was a little reminder that you were there.”

“You feel like lightning,” Patton says.

“Huh.” Virgil smirks. “That’s cool.”

“It’s all zappy.” Patton wiggles his fingers. “Feels like you’re pushing me farther, like you’re catching fire.”

“Cool,” Virgil says again, and this time it sounds a bit more lovestruck, and Patton is really happy with the idea of hearing that tone forever.

“You’re--you’re different.” Virgil reaches a hand up and hovers it over his chest. “You’re like...rain? No, like, directly after it rains. When all the grass is wet and it smells like rain and the clouds are still there.”

“Really?” Patton asks.

“Yeah. Happy or sad, it was--it was all nice.” Virgil smiles at him. “You’re my soulmate, Pat. Isn’t that cool?”

“Yeah,” Patton agrees, and smiles back, and for once it isn’t forced at all. “It’s amazing.”

General taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

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@dramaticsnakes

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Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@dragonwithproblems @snowdice @locked-prism @nonasficcollection @enby-phoenix @idont-freaking-know @sign-from-god-complex @hitmewiththatfanart33 @aceawkwardunicorn @callboxkat @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123 @hekking-happy-nonsense @cottonwoolsocks @a-fandom-trashdump @kieraelieson @star-crossed-shipper @somehow-i-got-an-account @just-your-typical-trans-guy @potatsanderssides @starlight-era @thatgaydemigodnerd @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

#sanders sides #moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides fic #averywrites #soulmate september #tw anxiety #okay so this is a bit of a mess and i don't know but here #it came out more angsty than i expected

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jenn-i-guess · 3 years

Text

Kiribaku Childhood Friends AU: Chapter Two

Bakugou still kept that damned plushie.

It was childish of him to keep such a thing whilst attending middle school, and while training to become the next number one hero.

But it was Eijirou’s!

He couldn’t just get rid of it. Bakugou barely got to see his best friend already, attending different schools and all. Katsuki was attending Aldera, and Kirishima was going to a private school called Mustafa.

They still hung out of course!

In fact that’s what they were doing right now, in Bakugou’s room.

Kirishima had come over for help on some math equations that he had absolutely no idea how to do. Which Bakugou had agreed to help him with those pesky decimals and fractions, if Eijirou talked about his day. Leaving nothing out.

Katsuki wouldn’t call himself a clingy friend, he was just worried about him. It was hard so use to seeing Eijirou every day since they were kids and now having to be separated from him.

“Bakugouuu.” Kirishima whined, his cheek smushed onto Katsuki’s desk. “You said you would help meee.”

He snickered, writing down in his own private notebook. “You still haven’t told me about your day, dumbass.”

Eijirou huffed and rolled his eyes, sitting up straighter, “And I already told you! I didn’t do anything but attend that boring school. I mean, I hung out with Tomo at lunch, but we didn’t really-”

“Who’s Tomo?” Kirishima had his attention now, Bakugou staring at him from his bed while furiously clutching his pencil.

Kirishima shrugged, pushing some strands of black hair back from his face. “He’s just a classmate I got partnered with for a project.” He explained, tapping his own writing utensil on his paper.

Okay. Bakugou let out a deep breath. Tomo wasn’t even a friend! Just a classmate. Just a classmate.

“He’s kind of rude though, makes jokes about my size.” Eijirou pouted, sticking out his bottom lip in a cute childish way.

Bakugou had to laugh at that.

It was true, Kirishima was very short, even if none of them hit puberty yet. Bakugou was at least three centimeters taller.

“Rude!” Kirishima glared at him. “Now will you please help me with these stupid equations?”

Katsuki stood up from his bed and walked over, leaning over his desk to stare down at his friend’s paper.

It. Was. A. Mess.

Eijirou’s horrible hand-writing was all over the place, writing questions in the margins, doodling on blank spaces.

“First of all,” Bakugou started, earning a hopeful grin from Kirishima. “Erase everything.” His grin turned into a frown as he stubbornly scrubbed the pink eraser over his whole paper.

————

Kirishima whacked his head on the desk as they finally finished, mentally exhausted from having to remember every single equation Bakugou has said to him.

“Fuckin finally.” Katsuki sighed, stretching his arms over his head as his back let out pleasing cracks and pops. “God, it’s hard to get anything through your thick skull.” He complained.

“I know! I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?” Kirishima asked, rubbing his droopy eyes.

Bakugou thought for a moment before he stood up, Eijirou doing the same. As they got towards his bed, Katsuki sat down and opened his notebook, the bed sinking a bit as the raven-haired sat next to him. “Help me with this.”

He showed the first page of the notebook to Kirishima, a picture of a body figure-kind of similar to Katsuki’s-sketched with what looked like costume ideas. Hero costume ideas.

And they weren’t bad sketches either, no they were detailed. Eijirou sat with his mouth agape as he looked at the drawings and back up to Bakugou’s eyes.

“This is so cool! Is this you?” He asked, a wild grin appearing on his face.

Bakugou’s cheeks flushed as he pulled the notebook away, fumbling with the page. “Yeah. I just need help with the costume.” He mumbled, and Bakugou never mumbled. It was kind of cute to see him act so shy.

“But it already looks completed. What d’you need my help for?” Eijirou asked.

Katsuki sighed and flipped the pages, “I have ideas, I just need help choosing some.” He explained.

“Oh!”

They stared at each other, both expecting one another to say something first, before Kirishima nervously spoke, “Well-those gauntlets look cool. They’re a bit boring though. Maybe put a design on them?” He asked.

Bakugou stared blankly at him before tilting his head, “Designs?”

“Yeah! Make them look cool! Something to match your quirk.”

He hummed in thought before staring down at his hand, balling it up into a fist.

Something that would match his quirk? What would match explosions?

“How about,” he started, watching Kirishima’s eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Grenades?”

His eyes widened when he saw that Eijirou’s ruby orbs were sparkling. “That’s so cool!”

Bakugou scoffed but began sketching, his pencil scratching against the paper.

When he was finished drawing grenade-looking gauntlets, he tilted his head back up to talk to Eijirou again when his nose brushed against something.

Holy shit!

Bakugou leaned back in surprise when he realized his nose had touched another nose because Kirishima was so close! And he wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring down at the paper, smiling when he saw the sketched out design.

“Yeah! That looks good!” He remarked, completely oblivious about Bakugou’s internal panic above him.

Shit! He was so close. And he smelled...so good. Like a mix of lavender and cherries. The smell was intoxicating and Bakugou had to scoot back before he did something stupid (like kiss him).

“So what else were you working on?” Kirishima asked cluelessly.

“N-Nothing else.” Bakugou stammered, closing his notebook entirely from those prying eyes.

“Oh.” Eijirou’s stance deflated a little before he sparked up another question, “Oo! How about your hero name?”

Bakugou smirked, closing his eyes as he triumphantly said, “Lord Explosion Murder.”

There was silence in the air before Katsuki whipped his head around angrily to see Kirishima giggling at him.

Giggling! Not fucking fair!

“Lord-pfft-Explosion Murder?” Eijirou chuckled, his body bouncing up and down as he shook with laughter.

“Yeah, whats fuckin wrong with it?” Bakugou growled, holding his palm up intimidatingly even though he knew it wouldn’t work on him.

“Nothing! Nothing, just uh-” Kirishima snorted, “Isn’t that a bit violent?”

Bakugou balked when he realized that he was absolutely right. And because of it, he smacked Kirishima over the head with his notebook, “Shut up! I can’t think of anything else.” He grumbled.

“Okay! Okay!” Eijirou calmed down, rubbing the red mark that was now on his forehead. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

That’s when Katsuki noticed. That’s when he noticed just how long Kirishima’s hair was getting.

“Your hair.”

Eijirou blinked, looking up at Bakugou like a deer in headlights.

Bakugou unconsciously brought his hand up, fingers grazing the soft locks of deep black hair. “Your hair. ‘S getting long.” He mumbled, combing his slender fingers through the sleeks strands.

“Oh.” Kirishima whispered, his heart accelerating at the rough fingers caressing him. “Um, yeah. I’ve been growing it out.”

The action was so tender. So affectionate. So unlike Bakugou. But the feeling was nice, Kirishima couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter at the attention.

“Hm. It’s nice.” Bakugou, drawing his soothing fingers back and into his lap.

Kirishima almost whined at the loss of touch, but soon yawned. He was bone tired, exhausted from his hard mental work, straining to keep his eyes open.

Bakugou didn’t notice, he had started going through his notebook again, stopping at the page filled with notes about his fighting tactics. He didn’t notice when the raven-haired boy drifted in and out of consciousness.

He really just wanted to lay his head down and sleep for a week.

Bakugou definitely, absolutely, did not notice at all when Eijirou’s head leaned onto his shoulder, soft hair tickling on his skin. And he definitely did not react by leaning his own head down on that pillowy softness.

And as he heard Eijirou’s soft snores, he felt himself begin to relax as well, inhaling his senses to smell like Kirishima’s shampoo.

Well, it was relaxing.

Until Mitsuki slammed the door open and said Kirishima had to go home.

That for sure woke Kirishima up from his five-minute rest.

He blushed heavily when he felt the heavy weight of Katsuki’s own head on his, squirming to stand up when he saw Bakugou’s mother in the room, grinning from ear to ear at the two of them.

Katsuki glared at his mom, standing up while brushing off his sweaty palms.

“Fuck off.” He growled.

“Language, Katsuki.”

#kiribaku #bakushima #krbk #KRBK #bnha #my hero academia #mha #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #bnha fanfic #anime fanfic #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo #kiribaku fanfiction #kiribaku fanfic

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evolsinner · 3 years

Text

⊱┊19

“um..twen~twenty~five.”

fuck. what the fuck! i tried to make it as close to sir’s age as possible, but 25 is the first number that pops into my head!

“twenty~five?” the mother repeats with somewhat surprise. “my boy’s what? twel..” she does the math in her head, “thirteen years older than you?”

actually 20, but 13’s fine too.

i’m obviously getting agitated by the tone in her voice and i guess my lovely date notices this because he places his hand on my thigh. it’s not like i was gonna say or do anything, lol. wait, maybe i was… damn, he knows me more than i know myself.

“mum,” sir speaks up, “don’t make it such a big deal.”

“oh, no, no, no, just making small talk, luv. that’s all,” she backpaddles.

“well, then, let’s talk about you guys,” mr killian retorts. “how’s life treating ya, dad?”

“well, son, business is business as per usual,” he replies. “revenue is good. great, actually. still would have been nice to have you back, though.”

“nah, dad, i reckon that ship has already sailed.”

“‘sailed?’, haha haha,” the father laughs mockingly. “well, if it weren’t for me, son, you wouldn’t be able to afford that bottle of champagne you just ordered.”

“you and i both know i worked my ass off at that company of yours,” sir hits back. “i earned it, dad. all of it.”

“boys, behave now, speaking of company, we have company,” the mother nods at me, her trying to be nice isn’t working.

sir sighs, “fine, tell me, how’s life back home, hm?”

whilst they proceed chit~chatting about their lives and jobs, my date proceeds to do something else under the table. something sinful.

hell naw, not in front of his parents. i won’t be able to control myself! what is he thinking?! just nope. not happening.

i grab his hand and place it on his own thigh. he scoffs arrogantly at my disapproval. which results in the parents’ voices fading and intense frowns replacing their expressions.

“oh, no, no,” sir quickly readdresses them. “i wasn’t..that wasn’t..it wasn’t what it looked like. it wasn’t directed at you guys taking that sick dog you ran over to the vet. i definitely wasn’t laughing. forgive me, how is it..she, i mean? is she doing well now?”

lmao, he’s messing up so bad, it’s hilarious.

after regaining the flow of the conversation pre quick, he latches onto my femur once more, but this time the grip is unyielding. again, i put my fingers between his knuckles to get his leech of a grip off of me. only he hardens it, forcing a pleasurable sensation to trickle up and around my pelvis.

i inhale a long breath of oxygen, so long that the parents pause and wait stiffly for my exhale.

meanwhile, mr killian casually takes a sip from his drink like he’s so interested in what his mum has got to say. his mouth curves into a devilish grin, finding the fact that i can’t express my pleasure openly hella entertaining. this piece of shit!

he softens his hold...

okay, good, great, amazing!

then, he smoothly glides his hand up.

fuck.

i quickly lock my legs together like a venus flytrap.

sir puts his mouth next to my ear, “spread your legs, rosé.”

his voice. that tone. it has the capacity to liquefy the adamantine jewel necklace around my neck. liquefy or maybe tighten it to the point where i am choking by the hands of crystals and a voice too concupiscent for my threshold. slightly, i loosen my legs. not enough. barely enough. i’m fucked. that’s just all there is to it. i am fucked.

“wider,” he whispers in that velvety tone.

i do so an inch more, my face heating up as if i just opened an oven door.

“don’t make a sound,” his libidinous warning just an earshot away from his parents.

how in the hell can they not hear?

his fingers reach the waistband of my panties. this cannot be happening right now. don’t do it. don’t you dare. do not..ohh..damn.. he slides his fingers diagonally under the elastic.

fuck x2.

“so how did you two come to meet?” the mum finds a way to direct the convo back at us, or to me, specifically speaking.

with them talking about the vet earlier, i blurt out, “hospital.”

why am i like this?!!!!!

mr killian’s wayward hand halts and i don’t know if i’m pleased or disappointed.

“yeah, well,” i put more confidence in my voice. i’ll just have to make an elaborate story up. i should be good at this. “i was there with my family. my little brother broke his arm so we were getting an x~ray done.”

“oh, is he doing okay?” they both fake sympathise.

mr killian’s fingers catch rhythm again and i try to finish my fabrication off as quickly as possible so that he doesn’t make me fucking orgasm in the middle of it!

“no, yeah, he’s..he’s perfectly healed now.”

sir’s fingers on their way to their destination brush against my shaved extremities and the strip of hair in the centre. i am stock~still, captivated, embarrassed, red hot frozen. red hot frozen? yeah, fucking red hot frozen!! so are the parents with this storytelling of mine.

my breathing slows as i know what’s about to happen in just a matter of seconds.

“i went to get a snack from the indoor vending machine when~”

without a warning, he inserts a finger right into my vajayjay and i stop talking midsentence. my back is as straight as an iron board. sir shifts his sit a little closer to me so that he can get his finger in the deepest that he can. i clench around him so damn hard as a sign for him to get it the hell out of me, but all he does is clear his throat.

clears

his

throat.

that’s all!

“well,” the mother arches a demanding overtweezed eyebrow, “what happened after?”

“babe, you okay?” sir asks me ever so boldly; i could detect the libido hidden in his tone a mile away. “you were getting to the best part.”

“sorry, one moment,” i give the folks a pursed smile before facing my date and pulling him down by the tie to hiss, “fucking quit it right now!”

he finds it amusing.

brah, this bitch.

“not in front of your parents…!”

“did i have a say with that bj at work?” is the only thing he says and brings his head back up to eye level with his parents. “anyways, where were we? after paying, her food got stuck and that’s when i saw her,” he finishes off for me.

so this is what it’s about? to have a one up on the other? to level out the playing field?! i am going to deck him so fucking hard when we get back home!!

“she told me ‘don’t bother, it’s a money~hungry machine that exploits from vulnerable people’,” he continues passionately like it truly happened.

the father cackles.

“so i asked rosé which one she was going for and i paid for the same one which helped push her one out along with mine.”

the father takes the chance to add a little anecdote of his own. this gives sir time to concentrate on his avocation.

he pumps a finger in and out of me. i can feel myself getting wetter and wetter with each pump. i try extremely, terribly hard to maintain a straight face; it’s taking every muscle in my face to do so. i lowkey don’t want him to stop and i’m highkey having trouble remaining casual about it.

“s~sir, please stop,” i croak out.

“‘stop’ what?” he murmurs cockily, curling his finger inside me just to further taunt me. “i don’t see anything happening,” he gestures over the table with his other hand. “do you?”

arghhhhhhhh!!!!!

just when i thought i could manage it, he finds a second pair for his index finger by inserting his middle finger in. he scissors me, pumping in and out more vigorously now to tease the real thing.

he leans into me and whispers, “i want to fuck you so bad on this table right now.”

my eyes pop wide open, “sir...”

“shhh, sweetheart, or i’ll put in a third digit,” he threatens.

his voice stimulates me, his foreshadowing, his fingers and i just cannot keep up with this god slash satan of a man any longer! so forgive me when my control is deteriorating in keeping the extreme ecstasy at bay. my face is getting sweaty and i’m becoming sloppy.

accidentally, i release a deep moan like i just ate the most satisfying cake on planet earth.

fucking.

kill.

me.

now.

sir’s racy fingers become frozen inside of me. he drops his fork and it clanks on the plate. he facepalms so that he can hide his face from his parents’ view. omg, why is he the one embarrassed?! the father chokes on his food, hitting his chest mildly, and the mother immediately stops chewing.

“a~are you okay, dear?” the mum asks unsurely. she needs closure, needs something to rid her of what the both of them do not want to bring their minds to.

“yeah, yeah! stomach pains, aha,” i say with an ‘oh it’s nothing’ giggle.

she doesn’t pressure me on it, instead, “adorable, isn’t it?” she asks the hubby. “except why were you in the hospital, isaac? were you all well?”

dessert is served and sir gradually removes his sticky fingers out of me.

thank the saviour above!

“i was well. my class had an excursion there and i was supervising them,” he replies.

“what does an english literature class have to do with a hospital?” she needles him.

“many things, mum, many things,” he utters, slightly irritated. “perhaps if you took up extra english literature classes, you’d know.”

“isaac!” the father snaps, his accent with the pronunciation of his son’s name ‘i~zack’ makes it sound so very profound. “that is in no way to speak to your mother like that!”

“you’re right,” mr killian puts up no fight and dips two fingers, the fingers into the chocolate sauce poured around the panna cotta. “that was wrong of me. i apologise.”

i watch him bring the chocolate coated fingers inside his mouth before slowly pulling them out as all the sauce smoothly slides off.

i’m pretty sure my man, j.c, has left heaven himself.

“this is delicious,” he tells the waitress above, conceited and all. “what’s in here again?”

#teacher x student #teacher #student #story #funny #poetry #mature #love #food #words #thoughts

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i-learned-that-in-bookclub · 4 years

Text

Relight that Spark Chapter 14

One Night Together

Luke is sick when the band has to perform and his parents won't let him go out. Julie comes over and spends time with him. Juke Fanfic!

Requested by anonymous Please give me some more ideas! I'll try to get them up and going as fast as I can.

Luke's POV

The boys are alive and it is 2020.

I wake up and feel really hot. I am sweaty and have a massive headache. I try to get up but fail.

'Am I sick? No, I can't be sick. I have a gig today. If my parents find out that I'm sick then, I won't be able to perfrom.' I decide to get up, slowly. I walk over to my closet, grabbing some sweatpants and a cut-off tee. I make sure I look less sick before going downstairs to eat. I see my dad sitting down, reading the daily news paper. Mom is making pancakes.

"Morning sweety." She says, giving me a peck on the cheek. I sit down and mom places a plate of pancakes in front of me. She puts the syrup on the table and sits down herself. We all eat and I try to keep my sniffling to a minimum.

I finish eating and head upstairs. I grab my phone and text Julie.

Luke🎸🎤: Hey Julie

Julie🎵🎹: Hey Luke, what's up?

Luke🎸🎤: I'm sick, I might not be able to go to the gig tonight. I'll try to make sure my parents don't find out, but I'm just giving you a heads up.

Julie🎵🎹: Ok thanks for letting me know.

I put my phone down and hop in the shower. The hot water doesn't help my already hot body. I feel faint and get out of the shower. I get dressed and dry my hair. I decide to sneak into my parents room and grab the thermometer. I run back to my room and check my temperature.

"102!?" I yell. "No wonder I don't feel good." I say softer, ploping onto my bed. I hear a knock at my door and my mom comes in.

"Hey Luke, have you seen the thermometer? I can't find it anywhere." She asks, looking around.

"No, I don't know where it could be." I lie, hiding it behind my back.

"Are you feeling ok? You don't look too well."

"I'm fine. No need to worry."

"Hmm, ok. But if you are sick, you won't be able to go to your gig tonight." She states. My face goes in shock. 'I knew this was a possibility, but I mean come on seriously? She can't do this.'

"Not that it would be such a bad thing." She says the last part more softly and leaves, closing the door behind her.

"Ugh!" I yell, chucking the thermometer towards the wall. It hits the wall and falls down. "Oh shit." I say quietly, realizing what I just did. I walk over to the thermometer and see that it is cracked, and the screen where you read the numbers is scratched.

I walk down stairs to grab an ice pack from the fridge for my splitting headache. I open the fridge up and pull the pack out.

Just then I hear, "Lucas Nathaniel Patterson!"

I freeze and drop the ice pack. I turn around to see my mom holding the broken thermometer. My eyes grow wide when I see the thermometer.

"Would you mind explaining to me why this was in your room broken?" She asks sternly.

"Um, I don't know." I hesitate.

"Luke, I know you're not feeling well. And lying about it won't help your case."

"I'm feeling fine."

"No you're not! Do you really want to rick the health of your friends just because you want to play tonight?!"

"I won't be risking their health because I'm fine."

"No. I am not letting you go to your gig tonight, You are staying here until you feel better."

My jaw drops. "WHAT?! You can't do that!"

"I can because I am your mother. Plus, it wouldn't kill you to stay home and study. You need to Ace that Math test tomorrow."

I said nothing, too shocked by her demands.

I finally said something. "You're being so unfair. I am feeling fine. Plus, I'm not going to just STUDY on the weekends!"

"You're not going to your gig tonight and that's final." She finishes, walking away.

I am so angry. Out of impulse, I garb a nearby glass and smash it against the counter. The glass breaks and goes flying everywhere. I feel one of the shards cut my cheek and blood slowly pours down.

"Clean that up!" I hear from upstairs.

I scoff and grab a little broom. I sweep the glass shards into the trash can. 'They'll never understand. I can't be the straight A student they want. They don't support me. Always regret buying me that guitar. They'll never understand.'

I finish cleaning up and go upstairs, forgetting why I came down here in the first place. I walk back into my room and hear my phone ring.

"Hello?" I say, picking it up.

"Hey Luke, where are you, we're on our way to the venue." Julie says through the phone.

"Oh, I can't go. My mom found out that I'm sick and now I'm here all night." I answer, still recovering from the tears I had shed down in the kitchen.

"Oh, ok well. I hope you feel better." We say goodbye and hang up.

About 10 minutes later my mom comes in my room. "Hey Luke, your father and I are going out to dinner. Please stay here and don't cause any trouble. Love you."

"Love you too." I answer back and she closes the door.

30 minutes go by and I'm laying on my bed. I hear someone knock at my window and turn to see Julie. I open the window up and she comes in. Julie sets her stuff down and takes a seat next to be on the bed.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the gig." I state.

"We cancelled. I told the guys that you weren't able to come and we all decided to not go. Performing without you feels wrong." She answers.

"Thanks, Julie."

"No problem. Look what I brought." She opens a box.

"You got pizza?!" I exclaim.

"Yup, dig in." She says. We eat the pizza and talk about school. I finish and lay down on the bed. She does the same and we both stare up at the ceiling.

"Why were you sad when we were on the phone?" She asks breaking the silence.

"I don't know." I say and stay quiet. " I guess..." I pause to figure out what I'm gonna say. "I guess that I got angry that I couldn't go. My parents have always wanted me to be this straight A scholar. They want me to be the perfect child and not get into any trouble and have perfect grades." I sigh. "But that's not me. I'm not perfect and I don't have perfect grades, or even close to perfect. I drown myself in music, not books. And when they said I couldn't go and had to study, I got angry because I'm tired of all of it." A few tears fall down the sides of my face.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But as long as you're happy and do what you love than it's ok. That's all parents really want from you." She answers quietly.

"Thanks Julie." I say, grabbing her hand.

"No problem. Now, let's go fix that cut of yours!"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865526/chapters/66783532

#jatp #julie #juke #julie and the phantoms #luke

12 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

06 | Illegirl

→ previous | next

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, kissing/making out, the yikes of being friendzoned

→ wordcount: 5.7k

You've never really thought about it before but now you realize that teachers do have a life outside of school.

They don't just sleep under their big, teacher desks at night and pop up in the morning right before the first bell rings. You know now that teachers, although with so much authority and intellect, are just humans—they have feelings, they have a life and they can also be your friend.

You beam as you look at your teacher as he lectures. A friend he was...

Your eyes shift up and down Jimin's figure and man, was it too sweet for your eyes. He's so good looking. Actually, even that was an understatement.

Your teacher's tight, white button-up shirt fits his figure just perfectly as his tie sit handsomely on his broad chest. His black jeans look strained on his muscular legs, and your eyes start moving up to settle specifically on his thighs. Goddamn.

Jimin pushes up his glasses (that he only wears in a classroom setting) and that motion draws you in to study his ethereal face. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his wide, almond eyes, adorable nose and those soft, plump lips. So beautiful, so surreal, so...

"Y/N? Y/N. Y/N!"

You jump a foot in the air. "Huh, what?" you shout, startled out of your mind. You know you probably sound like some twelve-year-old caught with porn and you mentally scold yourself for sounding so off-guard.

It gets worse when everyone in your math class laughs at you and you can feel your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"I asked you a question," Jimin says as he points to a problem on the board.

You've always noticed that your teacher never ever cuts you slack for being his friend; he doesn't show favoritism, preferring to treat everyone quite equally, no matter how bad someone might take an L on his test. You always thought that was honorable of him, but now, you kind of wished he'd leave you alone to die in your ocean of humiliation.

Palms already sweaty from all the unwanted attention on you, your eyes shake as you squint at the problem. It's hard to focus on the numbers. "Oh shit," you mutter under your breath, but you've always been a loud mutterer.

Everyone laughs again.

Uneasy sparks blaze in your stomach. You hate how everyone is watching you, waiting and listening for anything out of place to ridicule your every move.

But you take a deep breath and the math problem seems to clear up in your vision. It's an easy one, thank god.

"22 pi over 7," you squeak quickly, ducking your head under.

"Hm? Speak a little louder, Y/N," Jimin says as he adjusts his glasses, craning his neck towards you as if he couldn't hear you.

Goddammit, Jimin.

"22 pi over 7!" you yell in the stupidest and shakiest voice ever to be heard by mankind.

Finally, the fire in your stomach burns out when Jimin nods. "Correct," he chuckles slightly, his eyes glinting a bit. " Try not to daydream too much, Y/N. Even geniuses need to pay attention."

The fire is back and hotter than ever, except it's not only in your stomach, it's everywhere in your body. So. Fucking. Humiliating.

Trying to cool yourself, you set your head down on the desk, looking at your shoes as if those dirty, black Watt Star Converse were something actually worth looking at for more than half a millisecond.

Damn. I used to never get distracted... What the fuck is wrong with me?

After school, you trudge to your math teacher's classroom, still embarrassed about the incident earlier. When you walk in, Jimin's erasing the whiteboard, his back facing you.

As quietly and quickly as possible, you set your stuff down at your desk in the front of the classroom and sit. I will not initiate conversation. He's gonna hate me for getting distracted during class.

But when your teacher turns around, he laughs warmly, eyes scrunching up in the way that you love most.

"Y/N, why so quiet today?"

You flinch. "Oh, uh, no reason." You always sound so suspicious when you lie to Jimin.

"C'mon, you look disturbed," your friend says as he sets the whiteboard eraser down, abandoning it to walk towards you. "What's the matter?"

Oh, you know, just simply embarrassed that I think my friend, my teacher is hot and got fucking distracted over his goddamn body during his class.

But you can't say that.

"Oh, um..." you trail off, racking your brain for a good excuse. But as smart as you are academically, you're as stupid as a guppy when it comes to making plausible excuses. "I'm on my period."

You cringe the moment the words leave your mouth. Why, Y/N, why the fuck—

You want to crawl in a hole when Jimin raises his eyebrows in question. "Oh," he says. You swear you see his face flush pink as he turns his back towards you again, walking towards his messy desk. "Did it start today?" he asks.

Okay, what now?

Now it's your turn to flush pink; you didn't think Jimin would ask questions about your fake female problems. "Uh, yeah," you lie. "The cramps distracted me." Feigning pain, you try to convincingly grasp your stomach.

Jimin looks up at you from his desk, his silky black hair falling loosely over his twinkling eyes. To your surprise, he's smiling. "It isn't the first time I heard that excuse, Y/N. I know what you're really like on your period, remember?"

Well, shit. You did remember, you had just hoped he didn't... But it was your darn luck that he did. What did you expect from your intelligent teacher?

Face steaming, you huff. "Oh, whatever!"

Jimin only laughs, his eyes nearly disappearing as his full lips open up to a breathtakingly beautiful smile. You gulp. There's no doubt about it.

You're crushing on your teacher; he's much more of a distraction than your period will ever be.

"Operation help Ji—I mean, Mr. Park starts now!" you announce as the members of your math club cheer loudly.

"I don't know what kind of fucked up nasty humans were mean to our teacher, but we're totally gonna show them!" Nicole declares, Sarah and August agreeing aggressively by her side.

"But the question is... how?" Jungkook asks shyly, scooting closer to you.

Very aware of his movement, you slightly squirm, but pretend nothing happened. "I was thinking of a math tutoring club? For anyone who wants tutoring or is failing the class," you say. "And that way, if asshole parents complain again, we'll be able to say that Mr. Park did everything he could to help them—he has a fucking club dedicated to passing his class!"

"Ingenius as usual," August laughs.

"And when would we start this club?" Sarah asks.

You grin, your eyes sparkling with ambition. "If we can, tomorrow."

"No, no, no!" you practically scream, hitting your favorite pencil against a packet of math problems aggressively. "For the last time, you can't divide x to get an answer! You're gonna lose solutions! Do you want to lose solutions? Do you want to lose that A?"

The teen you're tutoring looks about ready to cry but you honestly feel no remorse. She had been constantly checking her goddamn text messages, giggling over quite inappropriate texts about Jimin. It makes you sick.

If she thinks Jimin's so fucking hot, why doesn't she at least try to be good at math?

"Hey, hey, Y/N, calm down," a familiar, silvery voice calls.

Jungkook.

"I'm trying!" you protest, flinging up your hands.

Jungkook laughs, sliding into the chair next to you and looking at the girl you were tutoring.

"What are you having trouble with?" he asks the girl in such a silky, smooth voice that if someone told you he was an angel, you'd believe them.

"Everything!" the dumb girl wails.

You roll your eyes.

"Hey, hey, then let's start from the very beginning, okay?" Jungkook soothes, smiling softly.

Goddamn, I wish I was that patient.

You just start to zone out as Jungkook literally reteaches this girl how to factor. You honestly wonder how she even passed elementary school. But then again, you have to admit you're a little jealous that this girl has so many friends to text. Yet you'd rather be smart than be popular—that's just how you roll.

You pause. But it's not like you don't have friends. You just don't have that many. And I actually like all the friends I have for once...

You don't remember falling asleep when a large, warm hand gently shakes you awake. Your groggy eyes open to see Jungkook, a goofy smile plastered on his face. "Tired, Y/N?" he chuckles.

The girl he's tutoring rolls her eyes. "Hmph. She yells at me for checking my messages but she does something even more unproductive," she grumbles.

Oh no. You did not just wake up to deal with attitude. You're not gonna have it. "Excuse me, but while I'm out here mastering linear algebra, you don't even know how to factor. Guess you had one too many hours of texting, huh?" you snap.

"Dayum," Jungkook mutters under his breath. He casually holds his hand out for a high-five, which you do, extremely dramatically.

"For your information, I know how to factor now," the girl huffs.

"For your information, that's a required skill for fifth graders," you bite back. "In addition—"

"As hilarious as this is," Jungkook interrupts, placing a hand on your arm, "You should calm down. It's a tutoring session, not a roasting session."

You sigh as the girl practically drools over your friend.

"Sure, Jungkook, sweetie. Thank you so much for your help so far," she giggles, flirtingly twirling her hair with her slender finger.

"Yeah, whatever," you reply as you feel Jungkook's hand slipping off your arm, the warm heat now gone.

Jungkook goes back to teaching the girl, oblivious of her seducing attempts. You roll your eyes as you look around the tutoring club—the turnout was better than you expected, honestly. For the first time in a classroom, however, you feel lost. You're not the best at teaching, (to be exact, you're the worst). Your patience is shorter than your height, (which is saying a lot), but everyone else in the math club seems to be teaching naturals.

Feeling a little guilty you can't do much to help out, you start to play with your pencil, twirling it around and doing cool tricks that you've accumulated over the years. But of course three minutes in, your hand loses grip of your writing utensil and it flings off, hitting the ground and starts rolling away from you.

Sighing irritably because you have to physically move to go get it, you stand up from your chair, crawling on the floor to reach your pencil. "Found you, you idiot," you tell your blue oxi-gel when you hear a light laugh coming from above you.

Facing forward, you come face-to-face with a pair of knees covered with smooth, black material. Looking up, you see your teacher smiling down at you.

"Were you actually talking to your pencil?" he teases, face set with a brilliant grin.

"I... uh..."

"God, what is this?" Jimin asks as he looks around his classroom filled with students. "Y/N, are you organizing a cult?" he whispers with a full grin plastered on his face.

"What no!" you protest as Jimin helps you stand up. "It was kinda supposed to be a surprise but..."

"It's a math tutoring club," Jungkook chimes in. "We're helping students reach that A, you know?"

"You guys made a tutoring club for me?" your teacher says, placing a hand to his heart. "I'm about to burst into tears."

You chuckle at Jimin's dramatized actions. "Well, no one deserves mistreatment. Ahem, especially not body objectification," you say as you glare at the girl Jungkook's tutoring. She rolls her eyes.

"Awww," Jimin coos. "You guys are amazing. You know what? We're ordering pizza, my treat!"

People cheer so loud your ears physically hurt.

You sigh out, clutching your full stomach as you slide into the shotgun seat of Jimin's nice car. "Damn... Since we already ate, does that mean we're not eating dinner at your house tonight?"

Jimin chuckles lowly. "Why? Wanted to go to my house?"

Your cheeks blush red as you shake your head aggressively. "No! I was just saying..."

"Well, I mean, we didn't have dessert yet, didn't we?" Jimin suggests, smiling. His fingers softly brush against yours as he reaches for your seatbelt, buckling it for you. "You always forget to wear your seatbelt, Y/N," he laughs. "You never know when I might fuck up on the road."

"Hmph!" you say, crossing your arms over your rapidly being chest. "Stop babying me! I was gonna put it on this time!"

"That's what you say every time," Jimin chuckles as he starts his car with a press of a button. "Now, cupcakes or brownies?"

"Huh? Um, cupcakes?"

"Great! We'll stop by the market to get some ingredients. We're going to learn how to bake!"

Oh no. Why did that sound like a disaster waiting to happen?

But surprisingly, it was a miracle waiting to happen. You stuff your face with aesthetic, black frosting, occasionally biting at the soft, plush bread. "To think we can bake cupcakes but not cook ramen right the first time," you chuckle.

"To be fair, we actually used directions," Jimin says, neatly slicing up his cupcake to eat piece by piece.

You scrunch your nose. "You look like a prince who's too snooty to eat with his own two hands."

"Or maybe I want to be hygienic? You know, unlike you," Jimin teases as you huff in response. Jimin pokes at you, making you turn to him in exasperation.

"What?" you sigh.

"I dunno... I never really got a chance to thank you..."

You raise your eyebrows, thoroughly confused. "I mean, but it was a team effort..." you try to say modestly. "Besides, I didn't do much of the teaching. I mean can you believe this girl didn't know how to fac—"

Jimin rushes in for a hug, knocking the wind out of you—you lose all train of thought, you lose your voice and all sense of functionality. All you can hear is your heart beating wildly in your chest and Jimin's steady breaths against your ear.

"Y/N... Thank you," he whispers, gripping you tighter. "I know it was you who came up with the idea. And I just—I'm so touched. When I told you my problems, I only expected you to listen, maybe, I don't know, sympathize? But you took my problems and found a solution, putting it into action. No one's ever done that for me before... I don't even know what to say..." your teacher trails off, still hugging you tightly. "I'm emotional, I know... But I almost broke down crying when I saw you and your friends hosting this club... all for me."

Your brain turns into mush at Jimin's heartfelt confession, and you can't help but hug him back, burying your face into his shoulder. Words can't seem to make it past your mouth—you can't afford to ruin the moment by saying something completely stupid.

But that's when you feel it. The rapid thumping of a heart. Except it's not yours—it's beating faster than yours.

It's Jimin's.

You walk into Jimin's class slightly earlier than usual, your phone pressed against your ear as you bob your head up and down, staying silent for a few seconds and then talking away.

"I know, I know, I miss you too, Jin," you say just as you slide into your comfortable seat, slipping your backpack off your aching shoulder.

"Yeah, I know, I love you too. Of course, I'm still alive!" you huff, rolling your eyes. "And no! I didn't burn the house down... yet. No, we don't eat ramen daily—we eat it every other day," you protest.

You're quiet again as Jin gives you a piece of his mind.

"Yes, I know ramen's bad for me," you sigh. "Fine. We'll try to make salad or something today. Mhm. Yeah. Yes, I'm in his class right now. No, Jin! I can't just hand my phone over to him, are you out of your mind? You can call him on his phone at some other time."

You sigh loudly as your cousin rambles on the phone. "Wait. What?!" you suddenly shriek, causing a few early-comers in the class to stare at you in shellshock. Quickly lowering your head in embarrassment, you aggressively grasp your phone with both hands. "What do you mean you're going to be away for another month?" you whisper angrily. "Are you serious? Why does the drama team have to be so good?"

Jin chuckles on the line as you pout. "I know, congrats and all but you've been away for too long. Stop teasing me, I just miss you!" you huff.

Your cousin attempts to explain himself as you sit through it all, nodding your head occasionally. "Okay, then," you say in a sad, defeated tone. "I guess, good luck... Anyways, I've got a test this period, gotta fly." You pause, frowning. "Of course I studied! Who do you think I am?! Yeah, well thanks, I'm pretty confident. Mhm. Yeah. Have fun. Love you too. Yup. Bye." Smiling softly, you end the call with your cousin, slipping your phone into your backpack to replace it with your lucky pencil and eraser. There, now you're completely ready for the math test.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jimin, watching you. When he catches your sight, he gives you a small smile paired with a discreet thumbs-up. Your heart flutters.

Gosh darn diddly dang.

Ever since that night you felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, you can't help but wonder if maybe, possibly, hopefully, you're not in a one-sided crush. It was pretty plausible Jimin had always been so caring because he liked you back—either that or he majorly friendzoned you.

The annoying school bell blares, throwing you out of your thoughts, and as if exactly on cue, your teacher stands up from his desk, taking graceful steps to the front of the class. He clears his throat to gain the attention of still-rowdy students. "I hope everybody's prepared," Jimin says as he shifts from the weight of stacked tests. "If you studied polar curves as I said, you'll be fine for the unit test."

A low murmur fills the class as your peers start to panic.

"What the fuck is a polar curve?"

"Shit, I don't even know what unit this is!"

"Definite integrals, you shithead."

"Well goddamn, I'm gonna fail again."

You cock your head. Yeah, definite integrals might be challenging at first, but they weren't hard—it just required a lot of practice. But something told you most of your classmates didn't even know how to spell 'practice.'

As Jimin passes the tests out, you hear students groan from their first glance of questions.

"No noise, no talking!" your friend reminds his students. "If you need extra scratch paper, pencils or erasers, they're up here in the front; you know the drill. Good luck to you all!"

But you can barely hear your teacher as you're already racing to finish up a problem on the exam. You've figured long ago that Jimin's test questions were always in order from hardest to easiest—which explains why most kids rarely finish. You, on the other hand, learned to immediately flip over your tests and work your way from the back to front.

You don't hear anything, nor do you see anything except for the all too familiar graphs and curves printed out on white paper. Your favorite pencil flies across the exam faster than your mile time, and soon, you're finished.

Wiping your sweaty and cramped hands on your jeans, you look up at the clock in the front of the classroom. You've finished at least twenty minutes early. You sigh softly. I don't feel like checking answers.

Almost instinctively, your eyes glance at your teacher's desk—it was starting to become a habit to look at him. But also, you wanted to see if he was grading the math tests from earlier periods. Except, he most clearly wasn't.

Why? Because he was looking at you. And your eyes meet. Electricity courses through your veins and you swear your heart stops beating for a few seconds. You can't hold the gaze as you quickly turn your head, releasing a breath you didn't know you had held.

Goddamn. Now, this is awkward.

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, you take a small breath and grip your pencil in your hands again. Maybe it's time to check answers.

Except—except, you can see out of the corner of your eye, your teacher still watching you. It wasn't a creepy stare though, no. It was like a handsome prince lovingly admiring his beautiful princess. Well, you were no beautiful princess, and though Jimin might be handsome, he was no prince. But still. His gaze made you feel... secure and even admired. Your heart flutters in your chest.

Why is he watching me?

You're too scared of the answer to even possibly ponder it.

So, sighing quietly, you use all your willpower to pretend like your teacher is not watching you as you cross your legs and tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You give your lucky pencil a nice squeeze. It's time to check answers.

"Did you know you frown when you concentrate?" Jimin asks as he does the dishes, diligently washing a bowl that had been previously filled with a healthy salad.

You sit on the kitchen counter, making some tea as you cock your head. From all that watching, he would know all of my stupid behaviors when it comes to test-taking. But you feign ignorance. "How would you know?"

"Well, not to sound weird but sometimes I watch my students take their tests," Jimin says as he dries his wet hands on a nearby towel, then sauntering over to sit next to you on the kitchen counter.

Your heart falls. So I'm not special. He watches everyone.

"No, not all of my students... I only ever watch you," your teacher admits as he scratches the back of his neck in what seems like slight embarrassment.

Your heart leaps in your chest. You don't know how to pirouette, twirl, turn, but your heart was surely doing it at the moment. Was this it? Was he confessing? Were you not in a one-sided crush?

"It's because I care for you," he starts awkwardly. "I mean, don't you tend to watch things you care for? Just to see if they're alright? I dunno..."

Ohohoho, you have no idea.

You nod enthusiastically. "Mhm, of course." Your lips stretch out into a large smile—you're unable to control it. You feel warmer than the cup of tea in your hands. "So you truly care for me?" you tease slightly, casually nudging Jimin.

He nudges you back, laughing. "Of course, Y/N, you're like a best friend to me."

Your eye twitches slightly, your smiles wavers and vanishes and you don't feel as warm anymore.

Well shit, you were friendzoned.

Smiling in accomplishment, you stretch back from your seat, mentally celebrating the finishing of your homework. Your blasted teachers had given you some extra weekend work, but jokes on them, you finished it all in—you glance at your watch—seven hours.

Wait a minute. Seven hours?! You do a double-take, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand and polishing the glass of your watch. The delicate, silver hands still pointed all signs that it was indeed, 10 pm.

Well fuck. I've literally been at school seven more hours than I should've. I've been at school for practically 15 hours! That's more than half of the hours in a day—I spent approximately 63% of the whole day at school!!! And even worse, I mISSED DINNER!

You take deep breaths to calm yourself, immediately looking up to see—no surprise—Jimin working hard at his desk. His eyebrows were scrunched up cutely, and he was biting his pink lips in concentration. The sight of him instantaneously calms you down.

But then you notice Jimin looks frustrated, stressed even. You always admire him for taking care of his own problems, yet sometimes you wish he'd learn to burden others with his dilemmas.

Slowly and quietly, you creep up behind your teacher, looking over his shoulder. "Need any help, Mr. Park?" you whisper in his ear, a small, teasing smile plastered on your lips.

Jimin jumps slightly, turning around to look at you. His serious look is replaced with a reciprocated bright smile. He flutters his eyelashes and runs his fingers through his silky hair, refusing to break eye contact with you. "Oh c'mon no one's around," he says, chuckling. "Jimin will do."

"Yeah, no shit no one's around," you pout slightly, casually placing your chin on Jimin's shoulder. Ever since he majorly friendzoned you, you have to admit it was easier to have physical contact—though your heart beats wildly in your chest every time the two of you touch.

"Hmm..." your teacher hums, twirling his red correcting pen. "It'll take just a bit more... Is our little Y/N bored?" he asks as he reaches out to mockingly pat your head.

You groan dramatically.

"What time is it?" Jimin asks absentmindedly, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"10," you mutter lazily, wanting to doze off with your face up against Jimin's warm neck.

"WHAT?!" your teacher shouts, shifting suddenly to grasp your arms and bring your whole body in front of him. He even tugs you forward, closer to him. Your heart is already having its own mini explosions, not being able to comprehend such closeness from your ultimate crush.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this late, Y/N?" Jimin cries. "Shit, I'm so sorry, I made you wait so long! God, I lost track of time!"

You just shrug, although a bit surprised at his outburst. At this moment, you're just worried Jimin'll hear the aggressive thumping of your poor heart—it can't take this anymore. You're definitely not built for unrequited love. "It's all good," you say, trying to smile calmly. "It's no big deal, really."

Apparently, your stomach thinks otherwise as it lets loose a large growl, much to your horrification. "Oops," you whisper.

At that, Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. "Fuck, we've been here for seven hours, Y/N, it is a big deal!" He grabs both of your hands, taking you by surprise. "We skipped dinner! I swear to god, Jin will kill me if he found out!"

You giggle. It was slightly amusing to watch Jimin fret so much. "What if we don't tell him?" you whisper mischievously, leaning forward. You're trying so, so hard not to scream in the utter joy that your crush is literally holding your hands right now.

Nope, I'm not going to acknowledge that at all, you tell yourself dutifully.

Now you're waiting for Jimin to answer, to say something funny, or witty as usual. Yet, he doesn't. Instead, he's actually quite silent—it doesn't seem normal. You take a peek at his face to make sure he doesn't look sick or anything, or maybe it was just a dumb excuse you made up to check his ethereal features out.

That turned out to be a big mistake.

You peer into Jimin's eyes, only to catch them looking at your lips. His eyes flutter back up to yours, and now the two of you are staring at each other. Your eyes speak a language only the two of you can understand.

His eyes tell you to inch closer to him, to part your lips.

Your eyes tell him to tug you into his lap, an all too familiar action. He doesn't let go of your hands.

You can feel his breath, hear his breath.

Hell, you can hear his heart. And you're not mistaken—you swear on your own life that you hear the quickened pounding.

And still, you're staring right into his soft, but slightly hooded eyes—never breaking contact. You're so close. So, so close to him, the closest you've ever been.

He slowly, tantalizingly slowly leans in, almost to give you a chance to back out. Oh, hell no. You're staying.

His beautiful, breathtaking face is so close that your eyes are almost crossing to meet his. Then, he closes his eyes just as he closes the minuscule gap between the two of you.

Your lips meet.

You don't know how something can go by so quickly and slowly at the same time. Each movement of your connected mouths is so languid, so relaxed, yet quick, but victorious fireworks are exploding behind you.

Straddling Jimin, you feel his body heat, your bare legs chafing against the smooth material of his slacks. It's so close to heaven that it is.

He works his magic, lips pulling and parting at the precise moments, his tongue finding its way into your waiting mouth. You can barely function from the heat of the moment, but you realize that you are glad he doesn't taste like beer this time.

Jimin sweetly squeezes your hands that are encompassed in his, leaning back slightly for both of you to breathe. Immediately, your eyes are open, and they lock onto his. But as if in a time restraint, both of you hurriedly shut your eyes again and lean in to meet each other's lips once more.

It's euphoric, really.

And for the first time in your life, you get to feel what physical affection is like. This one's not a lustful, drunken kiss, it's so much more than that. You put your heart in this, and you hope Jimin did the same. It surely felt like it.

With one last, sweet and soft, lingering kiss, your teacher, crush and friend leisurely pulls away. You almost lean forward to follow his lips—you guess you miss them on yours that much.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Jimin's hooded ones.

Goddamn. You don't know how to feel, what to say, what to do, what to think. Your hands are still tightly enclosed in his.

"Oh..." you breathe out, hoping Jimin would say something for you, anything. But he doesn't. He remains silent. It's so not like him.

Regret starts to pour into your body, coursing through your veins. It feels like poison. You can feel yourself wilt, as you realize—it was still one-sided, Jimin had merely been caught up in the heat of the moment, again.

"Fuck," you whisper, mostly to yourself. "Fuck," you say louder, tears starting to well up in your eyes. Jimin loosens his grip on your hands, and you slide them away, the warmth all gone. You search for your teacher's face for anything, any sign that he was okay with what both of you had just done. But again, nothing.

"Oh my god. What have we done?" you mutter, looking down and away. You were yet to slide away from Jimin's lap, but you couldn't bear to move away from that sort of comforting warmth.

"Shit, Y/N," Jimin breathes. It's the first phrase he says after the... well, kiss. "I'm so sorry," he mutters, his hand fluttering around your face to cup your cheek, but you flinch away. Goddammit, Y/N, why?

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Y/N," Jimin whispers, he tugs his hand back to his chest. "It was a mistake! I didn't mean it. Oh god, don't tell Jin." He notices you're still on his lap and jumps up, making you fall down onto the cold, classroom floor—you're too shocked to react much. "God, I'm so sorry!" He tries to help you up, but you shake your head and stand up on your own.

"Y/N. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake," Jimin repeats. "It really was."

Your head is spinning, and you don't know what to say, or do, for that matter. "Then, a mistake it was," you finally manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "Can we go now?"

I made out with him again. And he wasn't even drunk this time.

You repeatedly have that thought, over and over and over again. You can't seem to get the feeling, the sounds, the sight out of your head. You'd given your all into that little kiss, but Jimin deemed it was merely 'a mistake.'

That didn't hurt at all, nope, not at all.

You're quite good at lying to yourself. Because you know that hurt you a lot. God, I'm so humiliated. You just want to roll up in a small ball and throw yourself into a deep, dark corner. But you can't. Unfortunately, that shit is only figurative.

Sighing, you take a slight peek at Jimin in the driver's seat. His face is completely emotionless, which makes you worry.

We just ruined a perfectly good friendship, goddammit.

You're dropped off at your house; no words are exchanged between you and Jimin, you don't even turn back to give him a parting wave (like you usually do). Unlocking your front door, you quickly walk inside, slumping down to the floor immediately. With your back leaning heavily against the door, you bury your face in your hands.

Things had been going so well. Life had been going so well.

Now it seemed like you lost your best friend—who knows what more you might lose?

—previous | next

—masterlist

#jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #teacher au #jimin fanfic #illegirl

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onceshy-twicebitten · 4 years

Text

Male reader x Jasper Hale.

Plot Line: The reader’s lived in Forks his whole life. The Cullens show up and he’s afraid to admit his crush on none other than Jasper Hale. His friends however, have a plan to let Jasper know how much their friend swoons over him. Who knows? Maybe Jasper might feel undeniably flattered.

In this fanfiction Alice and Jasper are just best friends. Jasper is bisexual. Fake names have been made for the reader’s friends.

Friend names include: Jane and Westley (Wes)

TW: cursing, a lot of teenage embarrassment, and fluff.

Words: 1,626

———

And then, in the midst of it all, I saw your eyes. To fall is to accept, and to be damned is to reject. Yet in the end, no matter what I may feel or see, damned is all I am to be.

There was a long pause of silence. Your friend, Jane, looked at you and gave a soft smile. “Y/N... you’re really good at poetry but that’s just depressing.”

A loud snort came from your left. You turned your head to see Wes waving his hand. “Sorry bro, but that was absolute shit. Sad poetry about how much you like the guy? Scared of rejection? What are you a 13 year old girl?”

“Hey! I take offense to that,” Jane snapped back. She pulled her pony tail out, starting to redo it. “Listen, I think it’s sweet that you like him so much. However, I have to agree with Westley. Being upset about it isn’t going to help you and you know it.” They were right. You didn’t want them to be, but they were. Letting out a sigh, you let your head drop to the lunchroom table.

“Just end me now,” you complained, your voice muffled by the table.

“Y/N... come on. Pick your head up. How about after school we can all get online and play video games? I bombed the last round of Call of Duty,” Jane said. Wes laughed again. “Bombed it?! You did worse in that last round than I do in English!”

Then they started to bicker. You let out a huff of air, sitting up. You looked down at your depressive poetry book. It was filled with poems about how much you liked Jasper Hale. One of the many members of the ‘Cullen Clan’ as the town called them. They just moved here and you couldn’t get Jasper out of your mind. On the first day of school you tripped in the halls, dropping your books everywhere. You didn’t think that the most handsome, polite, and chivalrous man would come to your aide... but he did.

Your eyes met and suddenly you were in love. Well, you didn’t say you were in love until three months later, in the middle of November. Thanksgiving break was coming up, and you were excited to not have to stop yourself from staring at his gorgeous face.

For a split second, you felt eyes on you. You turned around and scanned the lunch room... but no one was looking at you. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Jasper and the rest of his siblings. Damn. His hair had gotten longer.

That’s when the bell rang. You quickly stood up, almost stumbling when you did. In a rush, you grabbed your books and waved goodbye to your friends. You’d talk to them after school.

***

The second you got home, you made your way to your room. Dropping off your bookbag to procrastinate your math homework, you turned on your console. Jane and Wes were already online as if they ran home at the speed of light. Well, Wes probably did. God he was such an idiot.

You turned on your headset and joined their party invite. “Hey guys-“

“Y/N! WE HAVE AN IDEA.” Oh god. They said that in unison.

“What’s your idea...” you asked, rather wearily. You felt your heartrate slightly pick up at the thought of whatever they were thinking. You knew it wasn’t going to be good. Whenever those two conspired, chaos seemed to follow.

“Okay, so Wes and I were talking-“

“And Jane and I thought-“

“We could just ask Jasper out for you.”

“WHAT.”

‘Okay. No. No. Absolutely not. Hell no. Not in a million fucking years. No. Not at all. God no. Please no.’ It took Wes clearing his throat for you to realize you said all that out loud .

“Guys... please don’t. I’m already embarrassed enough about it, you know? I don’t need you two screwing this up for me and making me out to be a fool in front of the guy I like!” You had a point. They could completely ruin your reputation and embarrass the hell out of you in front of the whole school. Oh god. “How would you do it?”

Jane laughed over the com. “We were thinking we could just put a letter in his locker. No, you won’t get to read it. No, it won’t be embarrassing. Something short and sweet. Right, Wes?” Wes groaned. “Noooo. We gotta make it romantic. Endearing. Full on flattery that Jasper couldn’t do anything accept ask Y/n out! ‘Oh my dear Jasper, how I’ve thought of you many a moon. Like a Romeo without a Juliet, I long for you. Your smile and glowing eyes, how I dream of them. Oh won’t you be mine?!’”

“WES.”

Your cheeks burned red. You couldn’t help it! He was embarrassing the shit out of you! “So help me God if you actually write any of that down-“ you gritted your teeth, your face a deep red. You took the headset off, pressing the power button. Nope. Can’t do it. Taking in a deep breath, you turned your headset back on, putting it back over your head. Wes was apologizing, swearing that he and Jane wouldn’t actually pull anything like that.

***

You dreaded this. More than dreaded this. You despised it. Loathed it. You wanted nothing to do with it. The closer you got to school, the more mortified you started to feel. Nothing had even happened yet. Just the thought of Jane getting to school early and putting a letter in his locker... oh god...

When you got to school, you could see The Cullens pulling up. You glanced at their cars as Jasper stepped out. He instantly looked at you. SHIT.

You turned your head as fast as you could, rushing into the building. ‘Nope. No. Not happening. Hell to the no. Jesus christ Jane- why did you have to do this to me you bitch. What if I become too embarrassed that I go speechless? What if I get rejected? Then what? I go home and cry about it like the scared little boy Wes thinks I am about this? Man. So what if I cry? Okay. Guys cry all the time. Maybe not over rejected crushes but- but whatever! Ugh!’

Your thoughts ran absolutely rampant. You couldn’t stop them. You rushed to your locker and started to unpack your bag. Grab your books. All of them? Yup. No stopping at your locker today no matter how heavy the load is. Pencil pouch? Yup. Got it. Water bottle-

“Y/N?”

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh no. God please no. You turned to see Jasper and your hands became sweaty. Suddenly all of your books slipped out of your hands and landed on your feet.

“Fuck!” You shouted, stumbling slightly back. You felt a strong hand steady you, and Jasper was looking at you with a worried gaze.

“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching down to pick your books up. Okay maybe he didn’t read the note and if he did dropping the books distracted him enough-

“I... read the note in my locker,” he said. FUCK. “And... I’m flattered.” What.

Jasper had this small smile on his face, holding out your history textbook to you. “I assumed you had at least a slight crush on me by now. I’ve... caught you staring. Though, I guess I was staring as well in those cases.”

Okay. What. This is not- this is extremely different from what you thought was going to happen. Was he... confessing?

“I truly am flattered that you’d write something so nice-“

“It wasn’t me!” You cut him off, your cheeks slowly turning a deep shade of red. “I- I um- my friend Jane she wrote it. Her and my other friend Westley knew that I liked you and they wrote the note together... somewhat. So I’d stop... avoiding you. And my feelings. I guess.”

Jasper smiled. Oh. He was uh. He was smiling. Okay. Okay that’s a good thing- right?

You couldn’t help but smile back. You took the history book from him and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m... so sorry if they wrote something absured.”

“No. It wasn’t anything bad. You don’t have to worry about what was written. However... I must admit, I thought you were... well, attractive. When we met on the first day. I wanted to let you know that I’d love to take you out on a date.”

He still had that soft smile. Those gorgeous eyes... he was so handsome. His voice was so soft, and in a few words you could just hear the southern accent. Your stomach turned and your heart skipped a few beats.

“I um... I- I would love that. I’m- I’m actually free tonight-“

“Perfect. How about I pick you up at six?”

Oh. OH. You looked away from his eyes, smiling like an idiot. “Six... six works. Yeah.” You glanced back up, seeing he was holding another book of yours. Your poetry book. Your eyes went wide as he handed it to you.

“Alright. I’ll see you at six then, okay darlin’? And... you don’t have to be afraid to talk to me. My siblings aren’t as mean as they look. I promise.” The bell rang. He waved goodbye to you, turned around, and started to walk away.

Holy shit. Jasper Hale just asked you out. You have a date with him tonight! You screamed in your head, quickly scrambling for the things you needed. Slamming your locker shut, you spun on your heel and headed to your first class. So maybe you could accept this. Your feelings for Jasper. And... maybe you could fall in love. Just this once.

———

Hi! So I hope you liked this. I’m sort of planning on writing Jaspers version of this, and maybe how the date goes! If this gets popular enough I 100% will!

#twilight #x male reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x male!reader #twilight the movies #twilight breaking dawn #twilight eclipse #twilight new moon #the cullens #twilight fanfiction #twilight fluff #twilight fandom

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sarahegerton96 · 5 years

Text

My Saviour-Taron Egerton

This is something Ive been working of for close to 3 weeks, final work count is 11′500 words approx, hope yous enjoy it :)

Y/N:

“Goddammit all to hell! Y/N!”

My boss’s voice rang out through the office, and out of the corner of my eye I saw several people wince at the tone. I kept my face blank even though I wanted to do the same thing, dreading going into his office. I took a silent, deep breath as I pushed away from my desk and walked into Mr. Walker’s office.

“Yes, Mr. Walker?” I kept my voice neutral, knowing it was the safest route. My eyes widened as I took in the scene on his desk, knowing this was bad. Oh, so very bad.

Spilled coffee covered the posters spread out on his desk, posters that he needed for a presentation he’d been working on for months for a huge client.

Of course, when I say he’d been working on them, I meant the team he bullied around. He’d been bragging about this client since the moment they were assigned to him, telling anyone who cared to listen- and many who didn’t- that this one was sure to land him a promotion and an office upstairs. So naturally, he had other people do the work for him.

Chester Walker was what I liked to call a brilliant idiot. He couldn’t do any actual work with any intelligence, but he somehow figured out a way to keep climbing up the ladder. Either he knew exactly how to blame the right people when things went wrong, or his daddy placed money in the grubby hands of the higher ups. Probably a little bit of both.

“I need you to get down to the third level and have them print another copy of this presentation. Run, yell, do what you fucking have to in order to get this to me on time.” He was already trying to clean the mess up off his desk, not looking at me once.

“B-but, sir, it’s going to take at least 20 minutes for those to print again. The meeting is in less than five!”

He looked up from his desk, his thin hair falling over his sweaty face as he glared at me. “Well then you should’ve been down there fifteen minutes ago! Just get your ass down there and bring them up to the meeting when they’re done.”

I snapped my mouth shut, fuming silently as I rushed away to do his bidding. There was no point in arguing that there was no fucking way I could’ve had them reprinted for him on time when he literally just ruined them. He’d only yell some more, wasting both our time. And there was no way I could just tell him to go to hell- I needed this job, as much as I hated it.

I burst into the printing room, and my eyes locked onto one of my best friends. Samantha saw me, and the look on her face must have clued her in to how desperate I was.

“What do you need, girl?”

“Chester just spilled coffee all over his presentation for the meeting that starts in,” I glanced at the clock on the wall, “thirty seconds.”

“Shit,” she muttered. Placing her hands around her mouth, she yelled out to the three other workers down there. “Everyone, drop what you’re doing. Start reprinting Chester’s stupid posters. My girl needs ‘em!”

I relaxed just a bit as she turned back to me with a grim smile, the other workers clacking away on their keyboards to find the project she was talking about. Everyone in the building knew who Chester was. He made sure of that.

“With everyone printing different pages, we can cut the time in half. Sorry I can’t do more than that, sugar.”

“It’s alright Sammy. That’s better than nothing."She sighed and turned to her own computer, pulling up the project in the database history and calling out which pages she wanted everyone printing. I paced back and forth along the carpet, watching the clock tick by second by grueling second.

Eleven minutes later, I was pounding up the stairs towards the ninth floor where the meeting was. I knew it was a risk going into the meeting sweaty and out of breath, but I was desperate to get there as fast as possible. Thank god I wasn’t completely out of shape, or they would’ve found me dead in the stairwell after three of the seven flights I had to climb.

I shoved open the last door, gasping and panting but glad no one in the meeting could see me from here. I leaned against the door, closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down before walking at a clipped pace to the meeting room. I knocked on the door sharply and waited for Chester to invite me in- as I knew he preferred.

I kept my breathing as steady as possible while I walked to the front of the room where Chester held court. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, burning into my skirt and blouse that I hoped to god didn’t show how sweaty I was.

"Took you long enough, Y/N. I apologize again gentleman. I’m sure you all know how hard it is to find good help.”

Tittering laughter filled the room at Chester’s words as I stiffly shoved the posters at him.“Careful girl, you already ruined the first set.” Chester’s snide words made my back stiffen and I opened my mouth to contradict him. He raised an eyebrow at me, shooting a glance towards the rest of the table and my mouth snapped right back shut. If I mouthed off to him in front of these people, I was for sure going to lose my job.

“Sorry,” I grit out. I knew had to get out of there before I exploded. I spun on my heels as Chester began his presentation, his nasally voice grating on my every nerve as I mentally eviscerated him.

TARON :

I watched in fascinated rapture as the woman stomped out of the room, steam nearly blowing out her ears. She kept her head high, her hazel eyes flashing fire. Her strawberry blonde ponytail swung quickly, the tips of her hair brushing the small of her back. She was a tiny thing, probably 5'2" without the wicked heels she was wearing if I had to take a guess, and slender with just enough curves to fill my hands.

And fuck, did I want those curves in my hands.

“Mr. Egerton ?”

I jerked my head back to the other side of the table where the piece of shit my company had been dealing with over the last few months was standing.

I merely stared at him, not saying a word. It didn’t take long for him to drop his eyes, and satisfaction filled me. He coughed awkwardly, then continued with his presentation. I tuned him out as my mind drifted back to the woman.

Y/N. I scrunched my nose, thinking that the name didn’t really fit her. It sounded too… delicate. And even though she was a small thing, she had steel in those bones of hers. No, she wasn’t anything like a flimsy piece of lace.

A man a couple seats down to my right was speaking now, and I finally tuned into the conversation.

“As you can see by the charts up on the board, we project that sales would go up by at least 15% with in the next year after implementing said changes.”

“Only 15%?” My voice rang out in the room, and everyone turned to me. “By my math, if all the changes that I expect to be put in to place go well, there should be a 27% increase and that’s just within the first eight months.”

Chester’s face went bright red and he glared at the other man. “Did you input all of the data I gave you David?”

“Y-yes sir, I know I did.” He started flipping though the pages of a folder in front of him, his face pale as he frantically searched for the info.

“Obviously you didn’t.” Chester’s sneer was nasty, and my blood boiled even hotter at the way he was acting. I ran a goddamn tight ship, but I always treated my employees with respect. This was only fire on the flames of the annoyance I’d had with him since the beginning, plus the way I’d nearly jumped out of my chair and strangled him with the way he’d talked to Y/N.

“Enough,” I said harshly as I stood. “I’ve heard plenty. David, come with me.” I turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance, knowing that everyone on my team would automatically follow; as would David. My reputation as a ruthless business man was slightly exaggerated but it wasn’t inaccurate, and I used that infamy to my advantage when I had to.“David.” In the next second the man was hurrying to walk beside me, his mouth opening, probably to make another apology. I interrupted him before he could even begin. “Where is Y/N?”

“Who?” I glanced to him to see him confused, and I realized I referred to her by my own nickname for her.“Y/N.”

“Oh. Um, this way.” He motioned to the left toward the elevators. “She’s three floors below, where Mr. Walker’s office is.”

“What’s her role here?”

“She’s his… assistant.” He pushed the elevator call button.

I turned to my associates. “Gary, Emily, Reid. Go ahead on to the office, I’ll be there shortly.” They all looked at me with a little bit of curiosity, knowing this wasn’t my usual m.o.

“You got it boss,” Gary finally responded. I rolled my eyes at him, ignoring his chuckle as I turned back to David, all of us stepping into the elevator.

“Now why did you hesitate when you said she was his assistant?"David swallowed hard, but kept eye contact. A kernel of respect for him grew, knowing that not everyone was able to do that when I was in a mood.

"Well, that’s what she is. He calls her his 'glorified secretary’ though.” The distaste was obvious in his voice and stamped all over his face. My respect for him grew a few more notches.

“Hmm. Can I see the file?” He handed it over to me without hesitation, and I shuffled through the papers. I found and email to David from Chester, notes about the data for today’s projections. I immediately noticed several important factors were missing, and I quickly figured out that those numbers would have affected the data and given us exactly what was presented to me today.

It was obvious that Chester had failed to pass on all the information I’d needed for David to correctly prepare the presentation. It wouldn’t surprise me to find that Chester had barely done any of the work for this, only wanting to take the credit when all was said and done. I made a noise of disgust in my throat, closing the file and handing it back to David.“Sir?” David was looking at me warily, and I was sure all my rage and frustration was showing on my face. The elevator stopped, pinging to let us know we were on the floor we needed.“Take me to Y/N.”

Y/N:

I slammed another desk drawer shut, taking my anger out on the poor thing. Everyone had been avoiding me for the last half hour. Wisely. I was in no mood to deal with anyone else’s bullshit today. In fact, I was just getting ready to leave early. I didn’t care if Chester got mad at me for it, there was no way I was staying here to help him after he lied and threw me under the bus in front of everyone earlier.

I took my note to Chester to his office, grumbling out loud to myself the whole way. It was a bad habit of mine, but one I hadn’t been able to get rid of.“He’s so freakin’ stupid. I don’t know why he even wants this job, when he doesn’t know anything. I mean, that’s just got to be so stressful. Well I guess if you’re smart it would be, but he’s dumb enough to think that everything is perfectly fine when everyone just wants to wring his fat neck.”

I was just saying the last part as I stomped out of his office, freezing when I noticed David standing awkwardly at my desk with a stranger. David gave me a tight smile, but I barely saw it as I took in the other man.

Standing almost a foot above my own height, he was lean but I could see even through the tailored cut of his expensive suit that he was fit, and probably still packed with muscle. He had a confident and intense aura about him, and my mouth went dry at the look in his eyes as he perused my body from my heeled feet to the tie in my hair holding my ponytail.

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he already had a five o'clock shadow covering his jaw and cheeks, the black stubble that matched his hair calling to me. My fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and feel the prickles against my skin.

“Y/N, I presume?”

Holy shit. A full body shiver went through me at that voice, deep and gruff with the hint of a British accent. I swallowed hard and nodded, taking a few more hesitant steps towards the mystery man.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Taron Egerton .”

A lightbulb went off in my head at David’s introduction of the stranger, and I stiffened. This was the head of the company for the presentation Chester had been in charge of, and if he was here at my desk, and only after half an hour, that meant the meeting hadn’t gone well. And since Chester had blamed the lack of visual aids on me, I assumed Mr. Egerton was here to berate me for it. I had no choice but to save my ass.

“Mr. Egerton ,” I started as I stepped toward him and held out my hand in greeting. “I would like to apologize for the Y/N in today’s presentation. I hope that my mistake didn’t deter you from working with us.”

He let me finish my apology before taking my hand, and when our palms touched sparks shot through me. I was grateful I hadn’t been speaking at the time, because the effect he had on me would’ve been obvious when I tripped over my words.“No apologies necessary, love”

My eyebrows shot up in confusion at his words, “My name is Y/N."“I know I don’t like it that much”

I felt my face flush, embarrassment and a little disappointment filling me at the blunt words. Turning to my desk and sitting, I replied, “Then feel free to leave.”

I shook my mouse to wake up my screens, focusing on them even though I could feel him staring at me. It was probably irrational of me to be sad he didn’t like my name, since I didn’t either, but I couldn’t help it.

“David, wait for me down the hall.” Mr. Egerton ’s voice brooked no argument, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as David immediately did as he was told. I snorted a tiny bit under my breath at his obedience; I wouldn’t be so easy to order around.

Mr. Egerton walked around to my side of the desk, spinning the chair so that I was facing him. He bent down to get closer, his words low but commanding.

“You’re going to have lunch with me. I can already tell you want to fight me, but I wouldn’t suggest it. I have no problem putting you over my shoulder and spanking that ass if you do."His words made me bristle and warm all at once, the mental image of his threat enticing me and pissing me off at once. I could feel the tip of my nose turning red like it did when I was holding back my anger.

Pushing against the floor, I rolled the chair back and out of his hands so I could stand, grabbing my purse angrily.

"I’m going to go with you so that you don’t cause a scene, but don’t think for one second that I want this,” I grit out so only he could hear. This office was open and full of gossips, although fairly harmless ones.

He let out a low laugh, and the hairs on my neck raised in appreciation of the sound. Traitor body, I thought to myself as I stormed past Mr. Egerton towards the elevator doors. I punched the button and waited, listening to him and David talk behind me.

“Although your charts were wrong, they were not incorrect David. You weren’t given the information you needed, so your data was off by no fault of your own. Give me your email address and I will send you the correct information. I expect to see the updated charts in two days.”

“Yes, sir.” David sounded a tad confused, reflecting my own thoughts. Why would the owner of a giant corporation want to deal with someone lower on the totem pole? Usually men of Mr. Egerton ’s status thought they were better than all that, preferring to deal with the higher ups.The elevator doors opened and he followed me in, leaving me trapped with him in a big metal box. His scent enveloped me, and I took a slow deep breath to really appreciate it. It was something smoky with a hint of freshly cut wood, and I only wanted to get closer, imprint it in my mind forever.

Shaking my head to get myself together, I turned to the man who’d somehow managed to discombobulate me without even trying. “What am I doing here, Mr. Egerton ?”

“Please, call me Taron .” I made a non-committal noise, and his mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing for a moment. He moved closer to me, backing me into a corner and placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

My mid was telling me to push him away, but my body had different ideas. My pulse quickened, beating hard in my veins as his dark eyes captured my own light ones.

“I can see you want to fight me Y/N, and I like that. But I have an offer you can’t refuse."I paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You’re really going to use that on me right now?”

He chuckled and stepped away from me, breaking the tension. “I know, it’s cliché, but I couldn’t help myself.”

With that one sentence, I learned something about Taron . He was intense, but a bit of a goof underneath that. I wasn’t sure why that made me instantly more comfortable with him, but it did. I finally relaxed, but crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at him, still expecting an answer to my previous question. His eyes flicked down to my cleavage, now more pronounced by my crossed arms. A sliver of satisfaction filled me at the heat that flared up in his eyes before he snuffed it out and got to business.

“I want you to come work for me.” His tone brooked no argument, but that wasn’t the kind of person I was. I didn’t follow commands like a dog, and I wasn’t going to start with him no matter how delicious he looked and smelled.“No.”

TARON :

I stared down at Y/N, hiding my shock at her answer. I was trying to avoid looking at her tits again, because I wanted her to know I was serious about this. I didn’t want her here with that shit head Chester. I wanted her in my space, around me. All the fucking time. It was a little disconcerting how suddenly this need for her had consumed me, but fuck if I was going to try to fight it.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“Oh really? You mean like Chester?” I knew it was a dick move, but I wanted to get my point across. “You would rather stay here and take the blame for all his mistakes? Let him walk all over you?”

“And what’s the alternative here? You want me to come work for you, where I’ll probably end up spread out on your desk or under it, sucking your cock while you try to have a conference call? I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want my life to end up like some trashy romance book!”

My dick throbbed painfully at the images she painted for me, and though I was guilty of wanting just that, I wasn’t the kind of man to expect that.I crowded her against the wall again, ignoring the ping of the elevator saying we’d reached our floor. I spoke in a low voice, so she was the only one that could hear me if other people were around.

“Although I’d love to have those pretty lips surrounding my cock, that’s not what I meant. I see your drive, your passion, and it would thrive in my office instead of being stifled here in this one.” I stepped back and turned to leave the elevator, ignoring the looks of the couple of people standing outside watching. “Let me know if you change your mind, Y/N.”

That woman was so goddamn stubborn. It’d been nearly a month since my visit to the office, and she had avoided speaking or seeing me at all costs. My takeover of the company was almost complete, although only two other people knew that it was happening. I hadn’t said anything to Y/N, but after I bought that company out I was going to promote her.

I didn’t want her to think I was doing it because I wanted her under me. And I didn’t want her to think I was using that to get her to like me. Not after all the gifts I’d tried sending her that she’d sent back in the same day. Every time I’d gotten the gift back, I’d grinned and chuckled, storing it away for later. She was going to accept the gifts someday, whether she knew it or not.

I had noticed though that in the last basket I’d sent, she’d taken out a caramel chocolate bar. I’d smirked, loving that she’d given a tiny piece of herself away even if she didn’t know it. I was desperate to know her, to get inside her head and figure out what made her tick.

Of course she was beautiful; that was obvious. But with every spurned gift I only yearned more to know her. And today, I was going to make sure I got exactly what I wanted.

Today was the meeting for all the staff, to tell them about the takeover and introduce to them their new owner and overall boss- me. I knew exactly what changes I was going to be making, and I knew some people weren’t going to be happy about it but I didn’t give a fuck.

“We’re here, Sir.” My driver’s words brought me out of my head, and I nodded crisply. I didn’t wait for him to open my door, reaching for the handle and letting myself out. I headed into the building, glancing at my watch to make sure I would walk in at the precise time. I got in the elevator, doing my best not to think about the fact that last time I was here I had Y/N in here with me.

I stepped off onto the 5th floor, making my way to the meeting room. I heard the voice of the previous owner of the company, Pete, just finishing letting them know he’d sold his company. Stepping through the door, I caught his eye and he motioned towards me.

“I’d like to introduce you to the new owner, Taron Egerton .” Polite clapping followed his words, but I barely heard it. I’d caught Y/N’s eye, and the heat in the air between us was high, her gaze shooting daggers at me. Something I would deal with later, especially seeing as how I was about to flip her world upside down.

“Thank you Pete. I hope your retirement is as enjoyable as you’ve been planning.” He chuckled at my words and shook my hand, waving to the people gathered in the office.

“Good luck with this one!” He chortled and waddled his 72-year old body out of the building. The room went quiet, and I stood looking at everyone until I heard the chime of the elevator in the distance signal his final departure.

“Okay everyone. As you’re aware, I just bought this company. I am a demanding boss, but I am fair. I may ask a lot, but nothing I’m not willing to give in return. If you’re a hardworking employee, then you have nothing to worry about.”

I saw a few surprised glances, and I let the ensuing whispers die down before I began to talk again. I caught Y/N’s eye while everyone was semi-distracted, giving her a small smile and a quick wink that only made her glare harder. I swallowed the chuckle with a cough, catching the room’s attention once again.

“Chester?” The heavyset man stood, a smug smile on his face that I was about to wipe off.“Yes, Taron ?”

I held back the snort at his presumption of using my first name. “You’re fired."Gasps rang out through the room, and Chester’s face went white. I glanced at the crowd, noticing a fair amount of them looked pleased with the new development, even though they tried to hide it. Chester began to splutter, and I cut him off.

"You don’t do any of your own work. You blame other people for your faults. You’ve been stealing from the office and those under you, and I don’t tolerate dishonesty or thieves. Get your shit and go.”

His face turned red, but he wisely held back whatever words he wanted to say. He turned and stomped out of the room, all of us watching as he went. He stepped out of the room, and I turned back to the others with a pleasant smile.“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on.”

Y/N:

Holy shit.

I wanted to clap, laugh, and cheer for this new development. My anger with Taron had temporarily abated, my happiness at his firing of Chester overshadowing everything else.“Y/N.” Taron ’s voice was sure, his gaze pinned on me as I froze in my seat. Oh shit, was I next?I stood on shaky feet, clasping my hands together to hide my nerves as I stared him down defiantly despite the pounding of my heart.

“You will be replacing Chester. If there’s anyone not on the team that you need or would like to move around, come to me and I will take care of it. I would also like to speak to you about your new responsibilities after this meeting is over.” He nodded, signalling that I could sit back down.I fell back into my chair, still processing what the hell had just happened. I tuned out the rest of the meeting while my brain tried to decide what Taron ’s motivation for this was. There were people here who had been there longer, in the actual field of work, that would have been better able to take over than a secretary.

Was this all his way of finally getting me to work for him? Anger rose anew at the thought, his manipulation and secrecy pissing me off. He couldn’t have bothered to tell me he was taking over? I ignored the voice in my head that said I’d been ignoring him so even if he had tried tot ell me I probably wouldn’t have listened.

I sat there fuming for the next 20 minutes, every possible reason for all of this getting worse and worse in my brain. Taron finally dismissed everyone and then motioned for me to follow him. I did so silently, waiting until we were alone to have the conversation that was bubbling inside. He didn’t initiate conversation, the ride in the elevator up to his office a couple floors above silent and vibrating with tension.

He let me in his office first, shutting the door behind me. As soon as I heard the click that signalled we were now private, I let loose.

“What’s the point of this? Are you doing all of this just to get back at me for ignoring you? Are you going to blackmail me with my new job, take it away if I don’t fuck you?”

His face had been impassive at first, but at my last words his eyes darkened and his expression turned thunderous. My words died at that look, my nipples perking against my will as he grabbed me and pressed me against the door, his face coming close to mine.

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen closely Y/N. I promoted you because I know you have the ability to get the job done, and fairly. I know it’s where you want to be. I know that everyone you talk to loves you, and that you will make a fuck of a lot better boss than Chester ever was."His words floored me. "How… how do you know that? About me, I mean?”

His eyes roamed over my face, the intensity bringing a blush to my cheeks. “David is a well of information once he gets started.”

I mentally cursed David, and then myself for giving him tidbits about me when I knew he was a worse gossip than old ladies in a small town.

“One last thing Y/N, and then we’ll get to business.” He leaned even closer, his face tilting so that he could talk directly into my ear. “When I fuck you, it will be because you’re begging for my cock in that tight, sweet little pussy of yours and not because of any goddamn job.”

He pushed away from me and turned, leaving me breathless and wet at his words, my ear still burning from the touch of his hot breath. I watched his saunter over to the chair of his new office before he sat, regarding me with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Are you ready to get to work?”

I sprayed my new office with the can of air freshener I’d bought last night for the 50th time, trying to get rid of Chester’s scent that had seemed to permeate every corner. I finished the round of freshener, then fell into the brand new chair that had showed up this morning before I got in.

I hadn’t questioned it, only relieved that I wouldn’t have to sit in the same chair as Chester. The idea of that gave me the creeps. I was still getting used to the idea of being in charge of a whole team, but I couldn’t deny the excitement this new challenge brought me. It was where I’d wanted to be all along, and I was so incredibly grateful for all the support the people on my team were already showing me with this being my first official day on the job.

I’d stayed late to make sure that I had everything in order, and pretty much everyone else in the building had already left. I packed up my bag and headed out the door, taking the elevator down to the parking garage. I was mentally running through everything I had to finish tonight before delving even deeper tomorrow, which was probably why I didn’t hear the man shuffling up behind me while I tried to unlock my car door.

A hand grabbed my hair and slammed my forehead into the driver’s side window, pain blasting through my head and making me cry out. The hand tightened in my hair and I dropped everything in my hands to reach up and try to stop it from causing me more pain. I yelped loudly as tears gathered in my eyes while my head was yanked back, the rest of my body pressed against my car by the body of the man behind me,

“You little bitch. You fucked him so he would fire me, didn’t you? And then I bet you took his cock down your throat so you could have my job. Did you spill the beans about my skimming from the company too?”

The nasty voice took a minute to register through the pain, but when it did, I was even more horrified than before.

“Chester?”

His hand yanked on my hair again, and I couldn’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes at that point.

“Fucking whore. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up! You’ve ruined everything!” Chester’s voice was high and reedy, panic obvious. I had no idea what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into, but it sounded like he was scared shitless. It was hard to feel bad for him at the moment though. I just had to figure out how to get out of this situation.

“Chester, just tell me what you need, I can help.”

“I can help,” He sneered in my ear, his breath wafting over my face and making me gag. “How much do you think your boyfriend will pay to get his slut back?”

I was so confused. “What boyfriend?”

He jerked my head around to face him, and I was horrified to see his face covered in bruises, his left eye completely swollen shut and the right bloodshot and full of anger. I glanced down and saw that the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair was covered in a makeshift splint, his fingers purple and twisted unnaturally.

“Taron Egerton , the man you fucked to get my job.”

“I haven’t fucked him!” It was true, but by the maniacal laugh he let out, he wasn’t going to believe it.

“Yeah right. I’ve always known you’d do whatever it took to get that job. And it looks like you succeeded.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he let go of my hair to slap me across the face before I could say anything more. I fell to the ground and curled up in a ball instantly to protect myself from what I was sure to be the beginning of a terrible beating.

I heard a loud thud and crunch and flinched before I realized the sound wasn’t coming from me. I heard some more grunts and odd sounds, and I lifted my head warily to see what was going on. My eyes widened in shock when I saw Chester on his back on the ground with a giant man towering over him, punching his face furiously. At this point, I couldn’t recognize Chester’s face through all the purple and red, blood flowing like crazy.

In the second after I took all that in, my saviour’s voice rang out through the empty parking garage.

“Don’t ever fucking touch her again!” With one more brutal punch, the man turned and faced me, chest heaving and fire in his eyes.

“Taron ,” I whispered out, stunned. He stared at me, his eyes raking over the wound on my forehead and cheek, my skin throbbing when his eyes landed on them. His jaw clenched and he took out his phone, pressing a button and putting it to his ear as he turned to kick Chester in the side a few times.

“E” He paused. “Yeah, the parking garage. Thanks.”

He hung up and turned back to me, holding out a hand.

I stared at it, taking in the blood and swollen knuckles before looking up to his face again. He looked at his own hand, realizing why I hesitated. He swore and then pulled out a cloth from his pants pocket, not even wincing as he cleaned off as much blood as possible. He shoved the cloth in his pocket and then held his hand out again.

“Come on Y/N, let me help you.”

His voice was soft, almost like he was asking me to trust him. And I did, despite the level of violence I’d just seen from him. It was highly possible that Chester was dead, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. If Taron hadn’t shown up, I could be the one laying there on the ground, covered in my own blood.I took his hand, careful of his wounds, and let him help me up. I bent down to grab my dropped purse and keys. I looked back up to Taron , a calm I wasn’t really feeling in my voice as I spoke.“Thank you. See you tomorrow then?” I turned back to my car, my hand shaking so violently I couldn’t get the key into the hole.

“Fuck Y/N,” he growled and swept me up in his arms. I started to protest, but he hushed me with one word. “Stop.”

I automatically settled in his arms, meeting his gaze with questions in my own.“I’m taking you home with me. I need to make sure you’re okay, and you’re in no condition to drive. Please, just let me do this for you. You can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

I shut my mouth, just nodding as I realized I really didn’t want to be alone. I found a weird comfort in his arms that I hadn’t felt in years, if ever. I let him put me in his car just a couple rows over that I hadn’t noticed before and buckle me in, wondering what was going to happen now.

TARON :

We drove in silence to my place, my anger still a burning hot thing inside me while she probably didn’t even realize she was shivering next to me. Thank fuck I’d worked late tonight and drove myself, or else who knows what would have happened to Y/N. The thought of that bastard Chester hurting her made me clench my hands on the wheel. the temptation to turn around and kill that fucker almost too much.

One look over at Y/N though, and I knew I was where I needed to be. I’d already called E, the mystery man on my staff who handled the ugly things like this, and Chester would be given to the very men who’d gotten to him before I did.

Yeah, I knew all about Chester’s gambling problem. He’d been stealing from the company for years to pay his debts, and he’d made a big bet the night before I’d fired him that he had no way to cover now. I would never have imagined that he’d take it out on Y/N though, or I would have made sure he never got near her.

I was feeling the guilt for not protecting her, but it was something I would have to deal with.I pulled into my driveway minutes later, punching in the code to my front gate before driving through and letting it shut behind me. I pulled up to the front door, knowing that someone would move my car where it needed to be eventually. I had Y/N to take care of right now, so the car could wait.

Going around to the passenger side door, I opened it and saw she hadn’t even unbuckled herself. I did it for her and pulled her into my arms again, loving how perfect it felt to have her there. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and snuggled into my chest, and I nearly stumbled at the warmth that shot through me.

I clutched her tighter to me and made it into my house and up the stairs to the master suite in record time. I walked straight into the bathroom and set her down on the toilet seat. I turned the shower on, testing the temperature before I pulled back.

“Y/N?” She didn’t move, still shivering. “Y/N, I need you to look at me.”

Her head slowly moved up, her eyes glassy but meeting mine.

“Hold it together for another few minutes so you can get warmed up. If I leave, will you be okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered and lowered her head again. I stared at her for a few seconds, warring with myself. I didn’t want to push her too hard, but I didn’t want her going into shock either.

“Alright. I’ll just be right outside the door so if you need me, just shout.”

“Okay.” Another small whisper, but she was responding.

I hesitated, but walked out the door and shut it softly behind me. I listened with my ear to the door, and I let out a sigh of relief when I heard movement and the sound of clothes hitting the tile. The sound of the water changed a minute later, and I knew she’d made it in.

I began to pace the carpet, fuming about the events of the night. My right hand throbbed with the memory of punching that asshole in the face, and I didn’t regret the bruises already forming.A sudden weird sound had me pausing, and I strained to listen. When I heard a second choked-back sob echo in the bathroom, I was opening the door and striding in there without even thinking about it. I pushed the shower door open and saw Y/N huddled up on the floor, arms around her knees as she sobbed as quietly as possible.

I knelt down, not caring about the water ruining my expensive suit, and took her in my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with her tears as she let it all out.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe.” I repeated those words over and over, holding her tight to me and petting her hair. I was practically vibrating with the need to go and kill Chester, but knowing that Y/N needed me here more kept my ass plastered to the bottom of the tub.

The water had started to cool by the time Y/N lifted her head from my shoulder, her hazel eyes now a muddy colour but no less beautiful for the torment in them. She sniffled and reached up to rub her eyes, clearing them a bit as she finally focused on me. She looked down at herself and I saw a blush rise on her cheeks when she realized she was naked, in my arms, while I was fully dressed and now soaking wet.

Despite the unholy temptation to glance down and take in her body for myself, I kept my eyes focused on hers. I needed her to trust me right now more than I needed to see her bare skin, and I wanted her to know that.

“Come on Y/N, let’s get you out of her and into something warm.” I kept my voice soft and reassuring, and I waited for her nod of assent before clasping her against my chest as I stood.She let out an adorable little squeak when I lifted her, and automatically wrapped her legs and arms tight around me. I held back a groan at the feeling of having her pressing against me. I needed to focus on getting her what she needed, not what my body wanted. Desperately.

I leaned over to shut the water off and stepped out, not caring about the water dripping from us as I headed back into my room. I reached behind my door and pulled my robe off the hook, awkwardly placing it around Y/N’s shoulders while I held her.

“You’re going to have to let go of me,” I said in a gently teasing voice.

She hesitated, then loosened her grip on my body. She slid down, and I bit my tongue as she rubbed against my dick that was unmistakably hard. Just because I knew I wasn’t going to be doing anything with her tonight, it didn’t mean my dick knew that. We both ignored him however, and I wrapped her up in my robe while I pretended not to notice her body.I brought her over to a chair and had her sit down. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

I hurried into my closet and stripped off the ruined clothing, leaving it on the floor to deal with later. I quickly changed into some sweats and t-shirt and made my way back out to Y/N.

Stepping out of my closet, my eyes locked with Y/N’s in the mirror I’d sat her in front of. Her face was still slightly red from her crying, but her eyes seemed to hold more cognizance than before which I was immensely grateful for.

I held her gaze as I moved toward her, letting the silence between us hang there, the tension in the air there but set to the side. I stepped up behind her and lifted my hands, cautiously placing them on her shoulders. When she didn’t flinch or back away from me, I knew she was going to be okay.

“I want to take care of you tonight. Will you let me do that?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded haltingly.

“I want you to be sure. I swear I won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable, but I also want to make you feel good.”

A small, strangled sound escaped her and I suddenly realized how my words sounded. My cock jumped beneath my sweats, and I mentally berated it. I moved my hands from her shoulders to her neck, pausing when I felt her quick heartbeat. Pushing away the sudden desire to clasp a hand around her neck and make her tilt back for my kiss, I moved my hands higher into her hair, beginning to massage her scalp.

Her eyes closed and a blissful moan fell out from between her parted lips. I bit my tongue again, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time tonight. Ignoring the blood rushing from my brain, I continued to massage her head, waiting until she’d practically melted into the chair to take my hands away.

Her eyes popped open when my hands left her, and I smiled at her. “I’m going to get you something to sleep in.”

She nodded and settled back into the chair. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked back to my closet, finding a pair of shorts with a tie and one of my t-shirts for her. After handing them to her and telling her she could go change in the bathroom, I set about making sure that my bed had clean sheets for her. I was just placing the comforter on top when she came out of the bathroom, prompting me to look up at her.

My mouth went dry as I took in the sight of her wearing my old high school mascot shirt- and nothing else. She was holding the shorts in her hand, and gave me a little shrug.

“They weren’t really staying on.” She set them on a nearby chair, and then wrung her hands together as she waited for me to respond.

My dumb ass was still stuck on taking her in. Her long, strawberry hair spilling around her slim shoulders in waves. Her eyes large and cautious. Her braless tits peaking underneath the thin cotton, calling to me. She finally cleared her throat, and I stood up straight from the bed."Right. Uh, well, you can have the bed. I’m going to go out to the couch.”

I started hurrying out of the room, but her grasp on my arm halted me as I walked past her.“Please,” she said in a broken voice that had me turning to face her. “Don’t leave me alone."I shut my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "If that’s what you need, then-”

My words were halted by her hand tightening on my arm and pulling me towards the bed. I’ll take that as a yes.

She climbed into my bed like she’d done it a hundred times before and buried herself underneath the blankets. She looked so cosy, so content, that my heart beat hard in my chest imagining what it’d be like to have her in my bed past tonight. In my life.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I slid in next to her and kept as much distance between us as possible. Not because I didn’t want to curl up behind her and encase her in my arms, but because I knew she’d gone through something traumatic tonight and I wasn’t willing to make her feel like I was pressuring her into anything. even though she’d been the one to ask me to stay, it didn’t mean anything more than that she didn’t want to be alone.

I heard her shift in bed , and I could feel her staring at me. Risking a glance, I saw her on her side facing me, a soft look in her eyes.

“Thank you, T. For saving me tonight, and for everything after. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

I swallowed hard as red began to take over my vision. “I’m glad I was there too, Y/N. But no need to thank me.”

With that, I looked away from her, waiting until she turned onto her other side. I listened to her breathing, noticing when it deepened and slowed indicating she’d fallen asleep. Only then did I turn on my side to face her, studying the hidden lines of her body, the unique scent of her that enveloped me as I lay there, thanking whatever gods existed that I was there at the right time tonight. It was those prayers I fell asleep to hours later, my eyes never once leaving the woman in my bed.

Y/N:

I jerked awake, my heart pounding while I stared at the ceiling as the dregs of the dream I was having faded away in the early morning light coming through the window.Wait, that wasn’t right. I had blackout curtains, so what-

I whipped my head to the side as memories flooded my brain, and my heart softened and sped up all at once to see Taron sleeping next to me, noticing our legs tangled together and his hand laying on the bed between us, lightly gripping the ends of my hair.

The dream I’d been having came back to memory and I felt my cheeks heat up at the realization that I’d been having a sex dream about Taron . It was no wonder, when I’d been suffering for weeks to battle my desire for him, and then being surrounded by his scent and presence all night after he’d literally saved my life? Yeah, there was no fighting that now.

My clit pulsed when a vision of T slowly fucking into me from above while my legs were held up by his broad shoulders, and a light moan left me. I was wearing nothing but T’s shirt, and even that was tantalizing. My nipples had been hard since I woke up, and I could feel how wet my pussy was from the dream.

I shifted unconsciously, and I bit my lip as a wicked idea ran though my mind. He seemed to be sleeping deeply enough, maybe if I touched myself just a little to ease the ache, he wouldn’t know?

I kept my head turned towards him so I could watch for any signs he was waking up, and my right hand slid down beneath the blankets to touch my wet pussy. I couldn’t help the small gasp as my fingertips brushed my clit, sending lightning through me.

I paused, waiting for T to wake up, but he didn’t move a muscle. Happy to see that, I continued to slowly rub my clit with two fingers. I studied the lines of his face, the chiselled jaw of his that called for me to kiss it, to feel the stubble growing there rough against my soft lips. Just looking at him and remembering the way his hands had felt on me last night, massaging my head already had me dripping wet. I shuddered as my fingers began to speed up and my eyes closed in pleasure.

“Y/N,” I imagined him saying into my ear. My free hand moved under the shirt I was wearing, pushing it up my stomach so I could squeeze my breast like I imagined he would.I could practically hear him moan in my head, and my fingers moved faster on my clit as my hips lightly thrust into the air.

“Y/N,” Taron said again in my head. I shivered at the sound, how real it was. Something tugged my hair, and the sharp tingles it sent across my scalp hand me moaning. Man, if I’d known accidentally laying on my own hair would have that affect, I’d have tried that a lot sooner!“Y/N, stop.”

My eyes popped open and I froze, little pieces putting themselves together. Exactly how real his voice had sounded. The pulling on my hair. It had actually been him the whole time, awake.I stared up at the ceiling, to embarrassed to look over at him. Fuck, could this get any worse? I still had one hand buried in my pussy and the other gripping my tit, but I couldn’t seem to move.“Look at me Y/N.” He waited patiently for me to gather up the courage. When I did, it was to see him with eyes dilated and full of desire. His body was tight with tension, and one quick glance down had me noticing the giant tent in his sweats.

“I… I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.” The words fell from me, breaths shaky and stuttered.

“I don’t really think you are. I think you’re sorry I caught you rubbing your pussy in my bed, but I doubt you’re sorry you did it. Are you?”

His eyes blazed at me with need and a challenge. Would I pretend like I didn’t know what he meant, and let this be the end of it? Or…

“No. I’m not sorry.” My heart sped up even more, and I knew he could see the pulse beating in my neck. “I’m only sorry I’m the one doing it, and not you.”

It took a split second for my words to register, but when they did, his reaction was more than I could have hoped for.

A low growl reverberated in the air around me, and in just a couple seconds he was kneeling between my spread legs, everything bared to his sight as he pushed my arms above my head and into the soft bed.

“It’s been fucking torture,” he groaned while he leaned down and nibbled on my neck. “To see you walking around in those fucking pencils skirts and those damn high heels. To need and want you so badly, and not being able to touch you. But now that you’re in my bed willingly, offering up this pretty as fuck pussy to me? Now, I’m going to get my fill.”

He paused to pull back and study my face, looking for any sign I wasn’t on board.“I need you,” I whispered. It was all he needed to hear. Dropping his forehead onto mine, he stayed there for a second, giving me one last chance to back away. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled my body up to meet his, rubbing myself against him through his pants.That seemed to be the last straw. His mouth was on mine before I could take another breath, and I moaned loudly when his tongue came out to tangle with mine. He groaned in response, and sooner than I would have wanted he pulled away.

“Now tell me my sweet little Y/N,” he murmured as he sat back on his heels, inspecting me. “What was it that had you stroking that pussy this morning?”

I bit my lip, embarrassment flooding me again. I really didn’t want to tell him I’d dreamt about him, but I wasn’t sure he would believe a lie if I tried to tell one. His hands moved to grip my thighs, squeezing them before bringing his hands closer together, his thumbs stopping when they met the crease between my leg and pussy lips. He stroked the sensitive skin there, telling me wordlessly that he would continue if I answered him.

I swallowed. “I was dreaming about you, and, ohh…” I broke off when his fingers moved closer, stroking my wet lips. Such a light touch, and so powerful.

“Don’t stop baby, tell me about the dream.”

I fisted the sheets next to my hips and pressed up towards him as I continued in a strained and panting voice. “I dreamed that after you climbed into bed with me last night you didn’t stop yourself from pulling me closer. That you, um, rubbed your cock on my ass while you played with me.”

“Mmm, sounds like a good dream,” he said in raspy tones.

“Yeah… this is better.”

“I haven’t even really touched your pussy yet,” he teased.“Please,” I begged, looking down my body at him. “Please touch my pussy.”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

I watched hungrily, heart beating wildly in my chest, as he leaned forward and took one long lick through my folds. I moaned, my head falling back onto the pillow while I trembled beneath his hands and tongue.

I was no inexperienced woman, but I had never felt anything like this. I had never been so close to coming from just a few swipes of a man’s tongue. His tongue rasped through my folds over and over, dragging me closer and closer to orgasm until my hands were buried in his hair and my hips were grinding up into his face.

“Please, oh please please let me come.” Words fell out of my mouth and echoed around us in his room. His hands grasped my thighs tightly a second before he took my throbbing clit in his mouth and sucked, flicking his tongue across the surface and making me burst into a million pieces.

“Taron! Fuck!” My whole body was shaking, jerking under him as he held me down, humming against me in obvious pleasure at my reaction.

I was just barely starting to come down when T pushed himself up and over me, his eyes fully dilated and my juices still glistening on his face.

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that. And Y/N, it was even better than I dreamed.”

I flushed under his praise, a shy smile tilting my lips up. “I think I know what you mean.”

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me, kissing him and tasting myself on his lips. He groaned into my mouth, tilting our heads so that he could kiss me deeper, harder, ratcheting my desire for him right back up.

I pulled away first to look at him. Even though he’d gone down on me and kissed me like he was just seconds away from fucking me within an inch of my life, he still held his hips away from mine. Hell, he was still wearing clothes! The orgasm he’d given me with my mouth had only temporarily satisfied me; I wanted to feel him pumping in and out of me, our skin slick with perspiration as we barrelled towards the edge together.

I moved my hands down his body and grabbed his firm ass, pulling him down tight against me so I could rub against him. The moment our hips met and I shifted underneath him, and strangled sound wrestled itself from T’s throat and his hips thrust hard into mine. A loud cry left me, part surprise and part pleasure at the absolute wildness of the movement.

“Wait, Y/N, I can’t.” He started to pull away, and I wrapped myself like a koala to stop him. I waited until he opened his eyes and looked at me before speaking.“Why not?”

TARON:

Goddammit. Every second she spent wrapped around me was weakening my resolve. She stared up at me with her molten eyes, pleading for me not to go.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. After last night…” I trailed off, the familiar anger with Chester burning in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through my nose to calm down.A soft hand pressed against my cheek, and the calm I’d been looking for settled over me like a blanket. I opened my eyes to look at Y/N, and saw her eyes full of some emotion I was afraid to name.

“While I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she began, “I’m not looking for you to be gentle right now. I’m not going to break. Nothing happened to me; you were there to save me. And I need you, T. Remind me what it feels like to be alive.”

I hesitated for just a second, and she saw that. A wicked gleam replaced the soft emotions that were there before, and when she spoke again her words came out on a throaty purr that was impossible for me to resist.

“Come on Taron. Don’t you want to know what it feels like inside my tight, wet pussy? I bet you can slide in all the way on your first try, even though you’re so fucking big.” She moved one hand down and slipped underneath my pyjama pants, finding me bare and hard, throbbing and leaking with need for her.

I couldn’t help the thrust my hips gave into her soft hand, her grip just the right strength to have me leaking more precum than before.

She purred, and continued to talk while she used her heels to push my pants down, baring my cock in her hand to the both of us. The sight was so fucking erotic that I nearly lost it, but it was her next words that made me snap.

“Mmm, imagine all this cum leaking from my pussy baby. Don’t you want to see that? I’m on birth control, so you can come in me if you want.”

“Jesus Christ,” I grit out as she rubbed her thumb across the head of my cock and gathered my cum to taste it. My mind blanked, only one thought going through my mind. “You want me to fuck you Y/N? Fine.”

I yanked her shirt the rest of the way off and flipped her over onto her stomach, tying her arms behind her back before she could say a word of protest. I ran my fingers down from her shoulders the fabric of the shirt, then over the skin of her ass to her thighs, taking the touch away from her right before I smacked the right side of her ass. She let out a yelp and jumped a little, but calmed when I rubbed my hand over the pink mark.

“That’s what you get for pushing me, you naughty girl. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, and now you’re about to get more than what you bargained for.”

I paused for a second, then leaned down and murmured carefully in her ear, “If this isn’t okay, just let me know.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Please, don’t stop. I love it.”

I grinned and sat back up. I spanked her other cheek a little harder than the first time, and the sound she let out had my cum leaking onto her skin where I straddled her thighs. I leaned back just a little and used my hands to spread her lips apart as much as I could with my legs keeping her tight together, and my mouth watered at the sight of how wet she was, the insides of her thighs shimmering with her arousal. I slid a finger down and ran it across her, then pressed forward into her tight hole just enough to tease her.

“You weren’t kidding, you’re fucking soaked baby. This cunt is going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

“Please!” She wriggled under my hands, trying to entice me to push more than just a finger inside her.

“All in good time, Y/N. Let me play a little with this naughty pussy of yours first.”

A whimper left her and her hands clenched in restraint. God, just seeing her back tense and her skin ripple with goose bumps as I lightly thrust my one finger in and out of her had me growling. I was going to tease her a little longer, but I had overestimated my self restraint.

I wrapped one hand around her bound forearms and pressed down, telling her silently to be still. Slipping my now soaked finger from her pussy, I brought it up through the crease of her ass, swirling the tip across her puckered asshole. My eyes widened when all she did was melt under me, a loud moan filling the moment of quiet. My finger paused there, pressing just a tiny bit as I tested her reaction.

“Um, oh my god, just… shit.” Y/N’s words were jumbled, and if her brain was as scrambled as mine was at this little revelation then I could understand.

“Y/N… do you like having your asshole played with? And don’t lie to me,” I said in a mocking voice as I pressed my finger against her again and relished the way her hips automatically pressed back towards me.

“Yes,” she mumbled into the blankets. I could barely understand her, but since I already knew what the answer was, it wasn’t difficult to decipher.

A low, excited laugh left me. “Oh baby, we’re going to have so much fun together.” I pulled my finger away and loved the way she let out a disappointed sound. Pressing slightly harder against he back, I cam up to my knees and took my cock in hand, pressing the already wet and dripping tip against the spot my finger had just left.

She jerked against me in surprise, and I let another laugh escape me as I pulled away.“Don’t worry, I’m not going there yet. Although I have to say, the way you pressed back against me like you wanted my cock in your ass first, is very tempting.” I moved my tip down to her cunt and notched it against her, pausing for a second while I steadied myself.

“Taron, stop teasing me and just fuck me please!”

How could I deny her when she begged so pretty? With one thrust, I went balls deep just like she’d mention earlier, her pussy immediately pulsing around me as she screamed my name out. It took everything I had in me not to come with her, the fact that with just one thrust of my cock in her had her breaking apart nearly too fucking good to resist going with her.

I managed though, and after a few deep breaths I had enough control to start pulling out of her. Little moaned and whimpers left her as my cock rubbed against her sensitive walls, her body still shaking from the orgasm she was having.

“Shit Y/N, I don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

“Doesn’t matter. S-s-sooo good,” she moaned out as I started to really fuck her, her ass bouncing into my hips and adding one more layer to the moment.

I was panting, my skin burning hot as a film of sweat gathered on my skin, sheer willpower and need for her to come again before I did driving my hips hard and fast against her.

I used my free hand to spank her ass rapid-fire, feeling how she clenched tighter around me with every smack. I continued to fuck her as I took my thumb and ran it back and forth across where we were joined, making both of us moan. Once my thumb was completely coated in both our juices, I brought it back up to her ass and played with her forbidden spot.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” she gasped loudly and threw her head back, her spine arching in pure pleasure as I pressed my thumb inside her. I felt her begin to ripple around my cock again, and my eyes widened while I slammed my hips harder into her, going so fucking deep I swear my cock touched her cervix.

“Shit, are you going to come again from my thumb in your ass?”

“Yes,” she cried out. “Fuck me so deep with your cock in my pussy and your thumb in my ass. I’m gonna come!”

I pulled up on her bound arms so her chest was lifted off the bed as I drove my thumb all the way in, my cock pistoning in and out of her gushing cunt.

Less than a second later, she was coming all over me, and I couldn’t resist the call that time. I yelled out along with her, coming so hard inside her that I couldn’t even breathe. My cum glazed her walls and spilled out around us as I continued to thrust in and out of her, dragging our orgasms out as much as possible.

I wanted the feeling to go on forever, but eventually we started to come down. We both collapsed onto the bed, and I began to untie her arms, rubbing them to make sure the circulation was going through and she wasn’t injured in any way.

Once I determined she was good, I turned her over and cuddled her into my side. She happily curled into me, humming with happiness with a big smile and eyes closed. We were still panting from exertion, but I’d never felt so replete and satisfied. I hadn’t expected Y/N, but I was sure as hell glad for her.

I knew I was going to keep her around; it was just a matter of convincing her to stick with me. Looking down at Y/N in the soft sunlight of the early morning, watching her as she began to fall asleep in my arms, I knew this was only the beginning for us.

@primaba11erina

#smut #taron egerton smut #taron x reader #taron imagine #taron egerton

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guerritosporecitos-blog · 5 years

Text

The white door opened with the hinges squeaking. I looked there with Josh sweating like hell. I stood up to hug him. I honestly thought he was going to leave like he has been joking about this whole time.

It's been hours since I had seen him and he was finally at out some step. I fell asleep and he was in his bed too.

But when I woke up two hours ago, I didn't see him anywhere.

I couldn't text obviously, so I just had to wait.

I actually asked Lynn, the lady at the front desk who was a massive friend of his, and she said that she did see him pass by a few minutes before six in the morning. It was about nine in the morning now.

He had our bags in his hands, the ones we've been using before that day for school. I grabbed mine beaming.

I opened the top and thank fucking God my chemistry notes were just fine. I use these to help me cheat my quizzes. Just stuff it in a cutout eraser and done. Flip it and hide it.

I flipped in my math sheets. Now for Algebra, I wouldn't need it, but maybe it would help every once in a while.

"How is everything not damaged by the water?"

He quit searching around his leather bag staring me in the eye. "I'm sorry?"

"From the sewer, I mean."

"Oh, " He ran a sweaty hand in his sticky hair. " I actually know another way around, that's how my gun has been undamaged before that day."

"Then why didn't you tell me about that one?"

His eyes moved to the ceiling, thinking of how to put it all lightly. "Your body just isn't at that, build?"

I knit my eyebrows feeling around my arms. "I can lift a few pounds."

"Oliver, I wouldn't count five to be enough."

"I mean, in PE I could swing a bat and have the ball go eight yards." He looked down my body and I could see his teeth show while he tried to smile, calling it out as bullshit.

"You should stay a nerd."

I rolled my eyes fishing around. I wanted to know if I had everything. Nothing behind.

A blue pencil pouch with three zippers dividing my markers and highlighters from glue sticks and away from the pens, erasers, and pencils. 0.5 binder just for my Ukrainian language class, three inches for all of my subjects, periods in order. And a good luck charm. I was just going to take out the school workouts working on before and toss it in the trash. Cleaning my bag out.

"Did you have something wrong with your neck this morning?" I turn my head over to him, hair flicking out my eyes.

I felt around my chin, collarbone, and neck. I didn't find anything. "No?" I started from the left moving to the right.

That's when I found the bump. I poked, moving it around at it rolled up. Then moved its only self.

His eyes widened while I just sat there not knowing what to do. My face was draining from color with a heart going over the speed limit.

I gulped down my anxiety standing up.

I was rushing and tripping to the bathroom mirror. I turned my head in different angles for the best position to view this. I shook in fear backing away.

"Just, lay in bed and I'll find my box cutter. I think I already know what it is." He was already up to be looking around the room.

"Wait, you'll be doing surgery on me?" I mean, he's smart but he doesn't have a medical degree.

He looked around the floor, his pockets, and even nightstands panicking. "Josh, it could just be a wart, we could go to the hospital close by if it's that big of a worry!"

"Those don't move! They just, grow!" He had all drawers moving back and slamming shut, worried to death, shaking, and sweating again. "Where is it?!" He turned to search around. He exhaled when he finally found something that would do for him. He jogged grabbing the knife off his stand after looking around again. I shook my head backing up to the wall; he grabbed my arm pulling me to my bed and I stood my ground in fear. "I promise, I only want to see what this is."

"You don't know what the fuck you are doing!" I refused to lay in bed so he pushed me up the wall I was already against. I fought back but it was like pushing a wall of bricks. I couldn't push him off. "Get the fuck away from me!" The blade slides out. I whimper about moving the farthest I could.

Then he's cutting my neck. I bit my lip down gripping the ends of the door frame.

His whole face was dropping watching me cry out in pain. "I know, Oliver, I do, but please don't move." I looked in his eyes while he was concentrated. "I almost got it." He used the knife as a spoon bringing out a squirming creature. "Shit!" He jumped back watching it flop around the floor, just dying there. I joined him away from the premature big. He was up to the shower, the over side of the blood. I was jumping over the mess with a wasp, bumble bee, what the fuck ever holding down my bloody neck. "You see. Think about this next time you argue with me. Because just as for now, I probably saved your life. Twice. Both times you were arguing with me. In that forest and right now."

He exhaled. "I couldn't help out Jenna but I got you out of that car. I'm doing some good."

"Wait, "I ignored the blood dripping to the floor and sliding down my arm. "you know about Jenna?"

"Of course, I know about Jenna." He tore off the toilet paper to hold up my neck. "How else would I have magically come to your rescue?" He stood back crossing his arms.

"I- but how?" I could see he was getting impatient, but so was I.

"You are arguing with me again."

"It's been almost five weeks of me wondering. Why can't I know?"

"Oliver, arguing. I think and said I had enough of it."

"But I-"

He pressed a finger to my lips, I smacked it away. "Just clean the damn blood, patch yourself, and flush that parasite down the toilet. Right now that's all that matters."

"You can't fucking make me! I shouldn't go by anyone's rules just because they saved my life! What is the meaning to save a life of you'll just control it and make the life feel useless!"

"Now you're being overdramatic. All I did, was cut your neck."

I looked at my puddle with the bee who stopped moving. "But why won't you tell me how you knew."

He rolled his eyes walking out of the bathroom. "Just clean the blood and I'll make your breakfast."

I huffed opening up a cabinet for towels. I found one green and ugly, deal. I set that on the sink. With toilet paper, I dropped it in the bowl flushing it down. I cleaned the floor watching it stain. I exhaled finding a rag, getting it wet, and scrubbed the red. I heard eggs boil rolling my eyes. Eggs I would eat because they aren't fertile, yet he loves to point out my hypocrisy for it. I worked my arms on the tile floor.

Josh walked in munching on the plain cookies we made two nights ago.

I looked up with a small smile. "I really think I would need stitches."

"I'll take you in then. It does look bad."

"Don't fucking worry me." I stood up gathering the two towels.

"I just told you the truth, was that not what you wanted?"

I pasted him with my hair hitting my shoulders, being sassy about it. "Don't manipulate this."

"Don't argue."

"You are talking too, Josh." I set the rag down on the top and wrapped a towel around like a scarf.

"I'm just responding."

"Well, " I crossed my arms, sitting on my bed, crossing my legs. "maybe I'm doing the same."

He clenched his jaw. To keep preoccupied, he was cleaning off his knife.

I shrug one shoulder heading out the door.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To the um, hospital?

"Oliver, they'll have to ask for your name."

"I could bleed out!"

He stood up walking to the bathroom. "I could help you!"

"Josh, I think you should stop being paranoid and let me do what I know is right for me."

"If us two can walk in here so could soldiers!"

"Joshua, I'm bleeding! They have free health care around here, I know they do. Take me to the hospital or I'll fucking head there myself!"

He shook his head getting the knife. "They make one move and we'll be living outside in a cave." I hopped off the bed with a wide smile.

"I sure it'll be fine."

It was hard to explain to them what had happened to me. They shamed Josh for doing this without a license, but a good defense was saying we didn't have time. I was laying in bed with curtains around me. Another patient, I think he was hit by a car, was on my right, but there were curtains covering my view.

Here we had free health care, I was just lying to stay alive, but I won't complain about the bonus.

They also had a few cases this. Not much, only six to total, but to know parasites have moved to humans.

The bee Josh cut out left a scar around my back. Hard to see with the tattoos but it's there.

They only wanted me to stay a night to see if I'll be well, sleep okay, and if my pain is just for a short period before they hand down medicine.

Turns out they came around three months ago but no one has been alerted. Every one of them was from the city, so with the next week, they will close the gates off to keep everyone here safe.

We don't know how they came to be all of a sudden, but they exist.

I asked a load of questions, I thought it could be a great report.

"My neck fucking hurts."

"I know, " He sighed looking down. "but I did the best I could do."

"No, I'm actually really thankful. Honest. It's just hell to have, this. And the unnecessary wires making it hard to move around."

"They are needed."

"Well, yes but still. They couldn't spend more time on making it teleport than making man-made viruses?"

"You're the brilliant one here and you pick to complain rather than to be a know it all?"

"I feel like we haven't meant."

"We did, you're just confusing. You want to study during our plans with Jordan and then you complain when you get a chance."

"I'm just in pain. Let me study and moan."

"Maybe I will leave you behind one day."

"You didn't today."

"Because you spend a little to too much time on a computer. Walk outdoors and talk to us all. I have to shoot people to spend only an hour with you."

I sat up raising an eyebrow. "So you wish to spend more time with me? I thought you hated me?"

"I never said I hate you, you can just be an idiot."

I gaze down my legs. "That's fair."

We had a little silence between us, but I wanted to speak when I was upset with him leaving.

"You should go to bed. You are in pain and you need a night to relax."

"What? No! Please don't leave."

"Oliver-"

"Well, what if you were right and there are shoulders from Seven here?" I wasn't convinced but I didn't like the idea of being alone.

"Oli-"

"What if!"

He exhaled nodding along. "Fine. I'll stay. But we won't talk, won't speak, just sleep. I'm tired too." I nodded moving to my side.

Now, I don't think I'm hunted down, but the thought of being alone somewhere I don't know about does scare the shit out of me.

Today was, a day. He went back to Seven for our school supplies and did homemade surgery on me.

I'll slap him one day for the pain.

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mintyjin · 6 years

Text

neighbor au: yugyeom

sorry for less posts lately- it’s finals season and I got into a super cool thing but that means I gotta plan for it and life is crazy

no one likes the graveyard shift, not really

you definitely don’t like it, but what can you do? gotta pay for university somehow

but it’s not all bad, you know. the graveyard shift is how you met yugyeom

he’s the only other tenant who gets back to the building at 4:12am

that breeds an odd sort of friendship

the sort of friendship where you run into each other with tired eyes and hoods pulled over your heads, meet each other’s eyes and laugh

like dude... why the fuck aren’t we asleep?

you’ve grown accustomed to each other, so much so that you’ll pull out your earbuds to talk to each other for a few minutes before going into your respective apartments and collapsing

yugyeom knows all about your job and it’s horrible, monotonous shifts spent staring at a glaring computer screen until your eyes ache, but you actually don’t know why he’s out this late

guessing by the bag he carries at all times, he’s probably a student

you feel like you remember seeing some math books outside his door

yeah, he’s a student. that’s gotta be it

in the elevator up to your floor, yugyeom will pull a protein bar out of his pocket and offer it to you

like... he always has them

finally you ask him if he ever eats anything else. like does the boy have a balanced diet or does he live entirely off protein bars cause uh

“I ate some ramen for breakfast!”

“....I’m sorry I asked.”

“Ah, Y/N, so judgmental.”

and you’re like listen here you little shit if you stay up this late all the time then you need to take care of yourself

besides, being a regular student makes it hard to stay healthy, so night classes? you really got to take care of yourself

yugyeom stiffens up a bit and looks at you cautiously out of the corner of his eye

“Night classes?” he repeats

“Aren’t you a student?” you ask

“Yes... but only by day.”

and you’re about to ask what he means when the elevator doors open and he gets off, waving goodbye with a smile and trudging off to bed

so... yugyeom has a secret

the next day, you go out of your way to walk by yugyeom’s door before you head to class

to your surprise, there’s a note taped to it

“Yugyeom, back to the usual place tonight. Call me. JB”

...what? what? what?

what! does! that! mean!

date? drugs? what?

and like, you could just text yugyeom and ask him, but that would mean admitting to having snooped around a bit, so... no

you see him after your shift the next day and you almost ask him what he meant by only being a student by day but,,,, he looks rough

his eyes are bloodshot, he’s sweaty, he’s pale

“Are- are you ok?” you ask, feeling concern rise in your chest

“Uh, I had a rough night. I’ll be ok, I just need sleep. And coffee. Tomorrow.”

“No, seriously, Yugyeom. You look like you just survived a tsunami. What happened?”

and he’s obviously exhausted, no doubt from staying up so late nearly every night combined with whatever happened to make him look so dreadful

but when you fret over him, he looks shocked for a second, his mouth forming a little o, and then he smiles

and sure, it’s a pretty thin-lipped smile, but it meets his eyes

and if you were paying attention, you would’ve noticed his ears get pink

“It’s just my hyungs,” he says by way of explanation. “It’s a long story- I’ll tell you next time, ok?”

“Um, ok,” you say, watching yugyeom take a step out of the elevator

the doors start to close behind him but you can’t hold back

you stop the doors closing and call, “Yugyeom!”

surprised, he whips his head back to meet your eyes

“Take care of yourself, ok? I can’t lose my 4am elevator buddy.”

finally, he grins

“You, too, Y/N,” he says, waving and stifling a yawn

you smile back, feeling a little better as the elevator doors finally close

totally unaware that you’ve completely turned his attitude around

he’s gone all smiley and blushy and he’s like... y/n... is pretty cute...

the next night, your shift goes on longer than usual

something came up and your boss demanded you stay after to fix a minuscule problem that anyone could’ve fixed, really

but she seemed especially insistent that you do it

the life of a corporate slave, amiright

and as you make the trek back to your building, the sky is already starting to get brighter

bruh...

needless to say, you’re in a terrible mood

with the looks to match, surely, with messy hair and hooded eyes, red from you rubbing them every few minutes

you stumble into your building, heading blindly to the elevator

“Y/N!”

is that....

it’s yugyeom

“I was waiting for you to get back.”

you’re stunned. “What?”

he nervously fidgets with his hands. “We’re 4am elevator buddies, right?”

you can’t help but laugh at that

“It’s not exactly 4am anymore...”

“Still, it feels wrong to ride the elevator at a weird hour without you. Also, I told you I’d explain something.”

oh yeah! you’d almost forgotten about yugyeom’s deathly appearance in the midst of dealing with your boss

“Yeah, what was up with-”

“Do you want to go up to the roof?”

and you’re exhausted. you’re so so so very tired. but yugyeom has hopeful eyes and a smile begging to pull at his lips and you can’t help but want to see him smile all the time so you sigh and say you might as well go up to the roof

and when his face lights up, you feel yourself mirror his expression

cause listen- yugyeom is cute

always doing some dorky shit to make you smile

you want to spend time with him outside of an elevator. and if that means going to the roof of your apartment complex instead of falling into bed, so. be. it.

yugyeom never disappoints, you know. on the elevator up, he offers you a protein bar

“Sure!”

“Chocolate brownie or cookie dough?”

“Honestly, Yugyeom, you’ve got to start eating some fruit.”

“Stop nagging me! Yah, between you and Jinyoung-”

and when the doors open, you’re laughing your ass off at yugyeom’s whining, totally forgetting about sleeping

who needs sleep when you have a cute boy? exactly

it’s a bit cold so far above the ground, though, especially this early in the morning

you cross your arms, content to just bear with it, but then yugyeom drops to the ground and unzips his bag and pulls out a blanket, holding it out to you

and you’re like,,,, yugyeom wtf

but hey! blankets are warm! so you take it, wrapping it around your shoulders and sitting down on a raised concrete slab, motioning for yugyeom to sit next to you

and he does, albeit hesitantly

“So...” you start, “you promised to explain?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s kind of a long story...”

“Well, I’m already up this late, so I might as well hear it.”

yugyeom just nods a really quick, tense nod and clears his throat

“So, you were right. I am a student. But I don’t take night classes. I’m out so late all the time because I’m on a dance team.”

“A dance team? But why does that-”

“There’s seven of us and our schedules never line up, so we rehearse late at night.”

and like,,, that’s weird, but it makes sense

“The other night, when you said I looked terrible, we had a fight. We’re ok now, but... fighting with friends is never fun.”

“Oh.”

“...Yeah.”

“So, can I see you dance?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“I don’t have music!”

“You have a phone, don’t you?”

“....OK, just let me find the song.”

you’re like yes!!! this is going to be so good

but when a familiar kendrick song starts playing from his phone and yugyeom starts to dance, your jaw falls open a bit

you didn’t expect him to be this good

it’s just that he looks like he was born to do exactly what he’s doing

wow

when he finishes, you applaud somewhat unintentionally

and yugyeom is blushing and running his fingers through his hair and he’s a little winded and boi he’s attractive

you swallow to keep yourself from drooling and lose your shit because yugeyom... how come you never told me you’re so good at dancing omfg can you teach me actually no I'm hopeless but can I come to one of your shows maybe? wait do you have shows? you never got into that I still don't know a lot but you’re so good! so hyped to call you my friend!

and yugyeom laughs and pulls you to your feet

“I’ll teach you to dance.”

but it’s different from what he did

one hand tentatively rests just above your waist, the other lightly takes your hand

and you’re freaking out cause omfg is kim yugyeom going to dance with me??? but also this blanket is falling off my shoulders oh dear

but then yugyeom starts to move ever so slightly to the side, guiding you, and you just let the blanket slide off

who cares about the blanket

and neither of you want to admit it, but the dim light of the very early morning makes the scene ethereal

and neither of you would ever admit to the deep blush coating your cheeks

but you’re smiling, too, and laughing

cause yugyeom twirls you and keeps you literally on your toes trying to guess what he’ll do next

he’s just so sweet and fun and... well, you’re about 99.99% sure he’s flirting with you

so you take a chance and rest your hands on the sides of his face

yugyeom’s feet stop moving, his hands still against your sides

you hear him take in a sharp breath

and your heart is pounding but you’ve come this far come on y/n you can’t back out now

you lean forward, standing on the tips of your toes, and lightly kiss his nose

and when you pull back, yugyeom’s face follows yours so that your lips are mere centimeters away

“Is- is it ok if-”

you cut him off, planting your lips on his

and it’s feather light and barely three seconds, but when you pull away, yugyeom tilts your chin slightly up and kisses you again

this time a little harder, with more feeling

and you are over the moon

coherent thought is a thing of the past

and this time, when you both come back up for air, you smile up at him and say, “Maybe we should hang out before 4am?”

he’s just like, “I really don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

#got7 #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #got7 yugyeom #yugyeom #got7 yugyeom scenarios #got7 yugyeom imagines #got7 yugyeom fluff #got7 au #neighbor au #kim yugyeom #yugyeom scenario #yugyeom scenarios #yugyeom imagine #yugyeom imagines #yugyeom fluff

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gggggghgghhvhb-blog · 5 years

Text

It's been hours since I had seen him and he was finally at out some step. I fell asleep and he was in his bed too.

But when I woke up, two hours ago, I didn't see him anywhere.

I couldn't text obviously, so I just had to wait.

I actually asked Lynn, the lady at the front desk who was a massive friend of his, so she said she did see him pass a little before six in the morning. It was about nine in the morning now.

He had our bags in his hands nodding but needed me away. The bags we've been using before that day for school. I grabbed mine beaming.

I opened the top and thank fucking God my chemistry notes are just fine. These I help cheat off of for a quiz. Just stuff it in a cutout eraser and done. Flip it and hide it.

I flipped in my math sheets. Now Algebra I wouldn't need, but maybe it would help every once in a while.

"How is everything not damaged by the water?"

He quit searching around his leather bag staring me in the eye. "I'm sorry?"

"From the sewer, I mean."

"Oh, " He ran a sweaty hand in his sticky hair. " I actually know another way around, that's how my gun has been undamaged before that day."

"Then why didn't you tell me about that one?"

His eyes moved to the ceiling, thinking of how to put it all lightly. "Your body just isn't at that, build?"

I knit my eyebrows feeling around my arms. "I can lift a few pounds."

"Oliver, I wouldn't count five to be enough."

"I mean, in PE I could swing a bat and have the ball go eight yards." He looked down my body and I could see his teeth show while he tried to smile, calling it out as bullshit.

"You should stay a nerd."

I rolled my eyes fishing around. I wanted to know if I had everything. Nothing behind.

A blue pencil pouch with three zippers dividing my markers and highlighters from glue sticks and away from the pens, erasers, and pencils. 0.5 binder just for my Ukrainian, three inches for all of my subjects, periods in order. And a good luck charm. I was just going to take out the school workouts working on before and toss it in the trash. Cleaning my bag out.

"Did you have something wrong with your neck this morning?" I turn my head over to him, hair flicking out my eyes.

I felt around my chin, collarbone, and neck. I didn't find anything. "No?" I started from the left moving to the right.

That's when I found the bump. I poked, moving it around at it rolled up. Then moved its only self.

His eyes widened while I just sat there not knowing what to do. My face was draining from color with a heart going over the speed limit.

I gulped down my anxiety standing up.

I was rushing and tripping to the bathroom mirror. I turned my head in different angles for the best position to view this. I shook in fear backing away.

"Just, lay in bed and I'll find my box cutter. I think I already know what it is." He was already up to be looking around the room.

"Wait, you'll be doing surgery on me?" I mean, he's smart but he doesn't have a medical degree.

He looked around the floor, his pockets even nightstands panicking. "Josh, it could just be a wart, we could go to the hospital close by if it's that big of a worry!"

Then he's cutting my neck. I bit my lip down gripping the ends of the door frame.

He exhaled. "I couldn't help out Jenna but I got you out of that car. I'm doing some good."

"Wait, "I ignored the blood dripping to the floor and sliding down my arm. "you know about Jenna?"

"Of course, I know about Jenna." He tore off the toilet paper to hold up my neck. "How else would I have magically come to your rescue?" He stood back crossing his arms.

"I- but how?" I could see he was getting impatient but so was I.

"You are arguing with me again."

"It's been almost five weeks of me wondering. Why can't I know?"

"Oliver, arguing. I think and said I had enough of it."

"But I-"

He pressed a finger to my lips, I smacked it away. "Just clean the damn blood, patch yourself, and flush that parasite down the toilet. Right now that's all that matters."

"You can't fucking make me! I shouldn't go by anyone's rules just because they saved my life! What is the meaning to save a life of you'll just control it and make the life feel useless!"

"Now you're being overdramatic. All I did, was cut your neck."

I looked at my puddle with the bee who stopped moving. "But why won't you tell me how you knew."

He rolled his eyes walking out of the bathroom. "Just clean the blood and I'll make your breakfast."

Josh walked in munching on the plain cookies we made two nights ago.

I looked up with a small smile. "I really think I would need stitches."

"I'll take you in then. It does look bad."

"Don't fucking worry me." I stood up gathering the two towels.

"I just told you the truth, was that not what you wanted?"

I pasted him with my hair hitting my shoulders, being sassy about it. "Don't manipulate this."

"Don't argue."

"You are talking too, Josh." I set the rag down on the top and wrapped a towel around like a scarf.

"I'm just responding."

"Well, " I crossed my arms, sitting on my bed, crossing my legs. "maybe I'm doing the same."

He clenched his jaw. To keep preoccupied, he was cleaning off his knife.

I shrug one shoulder heading out the door.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To the um, hospital?

"Oliver, they'll have to ask for your name."

"I could bleed out!"

He stood up walking to the bathroom. "I could help you!"

"Josh, I think you should stop being paranoid and let me do what I know is right for me."

"If us two can walk in here so could solders!"

"Joshua, I'm bleeding! They have free health care around here, I know they do. Take me to the hospital or I'll fucking head there myself!"

He shook his head getting the knife. "They make one move and we'll be living outside in a cave." I hopped off the bed with a wide smile.

"I sure it'll be fine."

Here we had free health care. I was lying to stay alive but I won't complain about the bonus.

They also had a few cases this. Not much, only six to total, but to know parasites have moved to humans.

They bee without Josh left a scar around my back. Hard to see with the tattoos but it's there.

They only wanted me to stay a night to see if I'll be well, sleep okay and if my pain is just for a short period before they hand down medicine.

Turns out they came around three months ago but no one has been alerted. Every one of them was from the city, so with the next week, they will close the gates off to keep everyone here safe.

We don't know how they came to be all of a sudden, but they exist.

I asked a load of questions, I thought it could be a great report.

"My neck fucking hurts."

"I know, " He sighed looking down. "but I did the best I could do."

"No, I'm actually really thankful. Honest. It's just hell to have, this. And the unnecessary wires making it hard to move around."

"They are needed."

"Well, yes but still. They couldn't spend more time on making it teleport than making man-made viruses?"

"You're the brilliant one here and you pick to complain rather than to be a know it all?"

"I feel like we haven't meant."

"We did, you're just confusing. You want to study during our plans with Jordan and then you complain when you get a chance."

"I'm just in pain. Let me study and moan."

"Maybe I will leave you behind one day."

"You didn't today."

"Because you spend a little to too much time on a computer. Walk outdoors and talk to us all. I have to shoot people to spend only an hour with you."

I sat up raising an eyebrow. "So you wish to spend more time with me? I thought you hated me?"

"I never said I hate you, you can just be an idiot."

I gaze down my legs. "That's fair."

We had a little silence between us, but I wanted to speak when I was upset with him leaving.

"You should go to bed. You are in pain and you need a night to relax."

"What? No! Please don't leave."

"Oliver-"

"Well, what if you were right and there are shoulders from Seven here?" I wasn't convinced but I didn't like the idea of being alone.

"Oli-"

"What if!"

He exhaled nodding along. "Fine. I'll stay. But we won't talk, won't speak, just sleep. I'm tired too." I nodded moving to my side.

Now, I don't think I'm hunted down, but the thought of being alone somewhere I don't know about does scare the shit out of me.

Today was, a day. He went back to Seven for our school supplies and did homemade surgery on me.

I'll slap him one day for the pain.

0 notes

baekhyunsahoe · 6 years

Text

BBKY92 has posted!

By some small miracle, chanyeol makes it back to his apartment, jongin in tow. He thought they had taken uber pool but apparently not so they were having an impromptu drunken sleepover.

Chanyeol’s place is mini sized. It’s got zero bedrooms, one bath, and a small kitchen. they nearly trip over and die over the shoes at the door but somehow manage to land on the bed [if you can even call it that]. It’s nothing more than a futon on the floor with a bunch of pillows and some stuffed animals.

Jongin’s sprawled on his back, chanyeol side eyes his sockless state of foot that had probably been sockless since the start. That guy never liked socks. Chanyeol never liked sweaty feet from not wearing socks. It could not go on like this. He’s about to voice his views on this matter when jongin drops his phone on his own face.

Chanyeol bursts out laughing, jongin’s groaning background noise.

“are you okay?” chanyeol asks to be ‘polite.’ Jongin scowls and the phone slips out of his hand again. “you are not okay.” Chanyeol confirms.

“my screen is so bright dude.” Jongin complains. “its blinding”

“you can change it on your settings.”

“I did – oh shit!”

“what?!”

“kyungsoo called me.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widen. A mad kyungsoo was basically the end of your days. Or jongin’s days at least.

“why didn’t you answer it?” chanyeol asks in horror.

“I didn’t hear it!” jongin yells.

Chanyeol shakes his head and reaches for his phone. “oooooooo. he called me too.”

“seriously?!”

“deadass.”

“oh my god… I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up here any second now…” jongin blinks up at the ceiling seemingly having accepted his fate.

“fuck that.” Chanyeol scoffs laying on his side and snuggling the nearest pillow. “tell him youre staying over. Im sure he can survive one night without you.”

“okay.”

“stop saying okay.”

“okay.”

“I changed my mind, have him come here and get you the fuck out of my bed.”

“im sorry.”

Chanyeol throws a stuffed toy at him, reminds himself to say sorry to rainbow [his alpaca] later for using him as a weapon, and reaches for his laptop.

“I’ma throw up.”

“go to the bathroom.”

“okay.”

Chanyeol barely gives jongin the time of day as the younger male wobbles to the toilet. That’s what he gets. He had spent a whopping $80 earlier and it did not even include tip yet.

The alcohol is still rampant in his veins, chanyeols cheeks are flushed despite the cool temperate of his room. His eyes feels heavy, sleep threatening to overcome him soon. But he had some business he had to take care of. It was only 6pm [ they had been at the beer and chicken place for 4 hours before migrating to the nearest bar and ordering more rounds ] [ thankfully lit!jongin had been in a friendly mood and paid for it that time ]

Chanyeol quickly logs onto his tumblr and in five seconds flat uploads his video, checks bkhyn92s page, sees no updates, and slams his laptop shut. He lays down and is idly wondering if he had a password lock on there when he feels jongin collapse next to him, out like a light.

-- it isn’t morning yet when chanyeol wakes up next.

Its his turn to yack it.

Feeling like he was going to give birth through his mouth to a mutant chicken beer and soju blob chanyeol barely makes it to the bowl of his toilet.

“help me im dying.” He says to his shower curtain. it is of no help as the 2nd round causes chanyeol’s eyes to water.

After making a blood oath with himself in his mind to never drink again, chanyeol’s got the taste of tooth paste in his mouth instead of well. We don’t need to describe it.

The time on the microwave glimmers at him in the darkness.

10;30pm

Chanyeol settles on his bed, trying to ignore jongin cuddling rainbow the alpaca and is about to drift back off into much needed sleep when his phone vibrates loudly.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.

BZZZZZZZT.

Ignore it, chanyeol thinks.

BZZZZZZZT BZZT BZZT BZZZZZZZZZZZZT

Don’t ignore it, chanyeol reconsiders.

With a dramatic FUCK MY LIFE muttered under his breath, chanyeol answers without looking.

“WHAT.”

“hello chanyeol.”

He blanches. That voice.

“s-soo?”

Do kyungsoo, the guardian of the seven rings of hell. No jk. But he totally can be if he ever applied for that job.

“nice of you to answer. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t.”

“of course. Um.”

“jongin there?”

“yeah. He’s knocked out.” Chanyeol says apologetically hating how he was going to get the blame for jongin’s idea to get shitfaced in mid afternoon.

“is he ok?” kyungsoo asks, instead of the SEND ME YOUR LOCATION for proof chanyeol was expecting. Kyungsoo was a bit overprotective in the cutest and deadliest way possible.

“he should be.” chanyeol kicks jongin in the leg to see if he is alive. Jongin groans. “yeah hes fine. Did you want to come swoop him?”

“no way. He might yack in my car.”

Such a caring bf. That’s bae. Jongin was a lucky guy.

“well don’t worry, hes safe here with me. Unless he tries to draw a penis on my face. Then I cant make any promises.”

“my relationship turnover was coming up anyway.” Kyungsoo jokes darkly. Chanyeol snickers despite a small voice in his mind squeaking pls don’t hurt me through out this whole conversation. “by the way, I heard you were going on a date with Baekhyun tomorrow.”

Jesus did jongin alert the media? Was there a new snapchat filter for this too? which countries still didn’t know? Has that billboard for rent been bought out to make a glowing neon sign yet? Did he make a medical breakthrough to relay messages to fetuses in the wombs as well? You know, since he felt the need to open his big mouth and tell everyone.

“uh. Yeah. I guess.”

“I’m pretty excited to see how this turns out.”

“do you know Baekhyun?” chanyeol asks curiously. One part of him felt kinda weird talking to kyungsoo on the phone while his boyfriend was spooning an alpaca.

“we went to the same music school together.”

“oh.” Chanyeol, the greatest conversationalist ever. Replies.

“he’s a nice guy once you get to know him. Don’t be offended by his ratchet self. He may seem like a thot, but that’s just an image he tries to maintain.” Kyungsoo says helpfully.

Chanyeol meanwhile is trying to do some math in his head. Did he hear correctly? Was he still drunk? Why on earth would anyone want to up hold their thottie honor? This is why chanyeol was single.

“don’t tell him I told you this, but hes still pretty down in the dumps about his break up. He was actually serious about that guy. It just didn’t work out you know?”

“uhhuh.” Chanyeol wanted to know more but at the same time he didn’t want to pry. He was raised to be respectful of other peoples business. Baekhyuns secrets, personal and his, didn’t need to be told to him by someone else.

“I could tell you more if you want.”

“sure.”

That previous paragraph never happened.

“he’s probably going to try to smash.”

“what.”

“yeah. Havent you heard the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one?”

No. of course not. the last time he checked he hadn’t subscribed to the Thotsmopolitan.

“are you sure about this?” chanyeol asks swallowing hard, the feeling of nervousness deep-throating him.

“yup.” A yawn. “I might have said too much.”

“wait. So should i… you know.”

“if you like him, you shouldn’t.”

Ah yes. that made total sense. Don’t get into the pants of someone youre feeling.

“because that will automatically make you look like a fuckboy. it’s a test of sorts. That’s why im telling you. I think youd be a good match for him.”

“why is that?”

“youd just balance each other out.”

Chanyeols starting to wonder just how much kyungsoo knew about him. Whenever he third wheeled it was all good times; karaoke bowling pet cafes… nothing ever deep. Perhaps jongin be talking shit?

“anyway. Good luck tomorrow and have fun! Tell jongin he better be home before I wake up with breakfast ready or else.”

“yes sir!”

“goodnight chanyeol.”

sweet

“So you’re chanyeol?”

“yes. last time I checked.”

Baekhyun looks amused despite the judgemental tone of his voice.

Chanyeol just looks uncomfortable.

The date came sooner than he would like [he had a mere less than 24 hours to prepare himself and half those hours were him hungover on soju]. Now he found himself sitting in the same chicken and beer spot [seriously was there no other place to go to around these parts?] with jongin’s music teacher for company.

“and when was that?” Baekhyun asks innocently sipping at his water. Chanyeol takes note of his hands. Theyre very pretty. Like the rest of the guy. Except when he opens his mouth. He seems to be snarky but playful which isn’t bad, but chanyeol is socially awkward at times like these.

He swallows a weird lump in his throat. “um.” He didn’t quite know how to answer that.

“kidding!” Baekhyun laughs. “I don’t need to know last time you checked.”

Then why did you ask, chanyeol thinks crazily. He sips his water too with a pained smile. Baekhyun was seriously intimidating and he didn’t know why. Maybe its because they were both sober and what kyungsoo had said echoes back and forth in chanyeol’s mind like a 1980s horror cartoon. ‘he’s gonna wanna smaaaaaaaaaAssshhhhhhhhh’ kyungsoo replayss in a creepy singsong voice.

“want to get something to drink?” chanyeol blurts.

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “do you want to get me drunk…?”

“no! no. I just.” Chanyeol rambles, horrified at the insinuation. He wasn’t a fuckboy!

“chill. I wanna get me drunk.” Baekhyun winks. “a pitcher and a bottle of chamisul sound good to you?”

“sounds good, yeah, great actually.” Chanyeol agrees nodding his head repeatedly. Baekhyun laughs again.

“someones eager.” Baekhyun comments. “or a raging alcoholic.”

Chanyeol pouts but he realizes Baekhyun is just teasing.

The alcohol arrives soon enough and after the first two soju bombs chanyeol is feeling less stressed and more relaxed. Baekhyun looks the same, a sign he must have high alcohol tolerance. Whos the raging alcoholic now?

“tell me about yourself.” Baekhyun drawls, gaze focused solely on chanyeol. His pretty eyes are outlined with black liner, and despite appearing as sober as fifteen minutes ago has a slight pink glow dusting across his cheek bones. “why are you single.”

Chanyeol blinks, has to seriously come up with an answer to that question. He ends up laughing awkwardly, scratching his head. “oh I guess I just don’t really have much time to date and plus its hard to meet people nowadays, I think… “

“How long have you been single?”

“Um… a few months,” A FEW YEARS, his mind and penis scream at him in devastation.

“Ooh. No hook ups or anything?” Baekhyun asks casually pouring a shot for the both of them.

Chanyeol isn’t sure if he should confess to not having boned in A FEW YEARS or to try and seem cool by saying he got hoes in different area codes. But he didn’t wanna be a fuckboy. gods, was this a test? There was no winning!

“No…” he ends up answering honestly. He takes his shot without Baekhyun and downs his beer.

Baekhyun looks truly surprised. “wow. So you’re saying you haven’t gotten laid in months?” he whistles, and takes his drink.

“its not really a big deal to me,” chanyeol explains hastily, defending his unwanted chastity belt.

“uhhuh.” Baekhyun nods, pouring yet another set of beer and soju. “hooking up isn’t a big deal to you.”

“no!” chanyeol exclaims. “no, I meant. Like. Nevermind.”

Baekhyun smiles coyly at him through his eyelashes. “cheers to that.”

“cheers to what?”

“hooking up.”

They down their respective alcohol even though chanyeol isn’t sure what the hell that meant but strangely finds himself not too worried. Baekhyuns presence is becoming comfortable, and with every shot, chanyeol feels like he can be more and more himself. Baekhyun laughs a lot at his reactions and stories, and chanyeol is captivated everytime Baekhyun opens his mouth, looks at him, pours drink, takes a shot, anything really. Baekhyun is truly gorgeous, and attractive af. There was just something about him and chanyeol is suddenly thinking about baekhyuns previous question except about Baekhyun – why was he single?

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