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#i wish i could drink more than 2 cups of coffee without wanting to stand on the edge of a balcony holding a knife to my own throat
prodsg · 2 years
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wish you were sober ; myg
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SUMMARY: all you wanted was his love, and he declares it in a way that has you reeling back, knowing he wouldn’t remember any of it when morning comes 
5 + 1 au! five times where Yoongi makes you feel like you’ll never be anything other than friends, and the one time he unconventionally voices out his true feelings. 
PAIRING: min yoongi x f!reader
GENRE / RATING: unrequited love, yoongi is obtuse, fuckboy yoongi, best friends yoongi and reader, 18+
WORDCOUNT: 4.2k
WARNINGS: cursing, attempted SA.
A/N: I wrote this because I got obsessed with the song wish you were sober while on an 8-hour road trip.
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“Yah Min Yoongi!” You yell at your knob-head of a best friend. 
There on your couch lies Min Yoongi, still passed out, mouth agape and snoring. 
On a regular day, you would have let him sleep knowing he’d been to one of his underground rap shows last night, drank a shit ton and got home at dawn and you would even ask him to move to your bed to get more comfortable, but today was his midterm passing day. 
“Yah! Get up, you’re gonna be late!” You yell once again, glancing at the watch on your wrist, seeing that it was 30 minutes to 9:00am, and yoongi’s class was at 9:15
“Yah Y/N, why are you so fucking loud.” The gremlin grumbles from the couch, opening one eye to peak at you. 
“You have your composition class at 9:15, you’re submitting your midterm today min, you know your professor doesn’t let late students in.” You tell him. 
His eyes widen comically, glancing quickly at the clock you had in your apartment’s living room. “Fuck!” He yells, bolting up. 
It took 20 minutes to get to campus, and 10 minutes to get to his building so… 
“Chill, I got you a cup of coffee on the counter, I have my car today so I can drop you off in front of your building so you don’t have to run.” You explain, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door. 
He stands still for a second, blinking; then seemingly sighing out of relief. “You’re a lifesaver, give me a few minutes to freshen up then we can go, don’t want you to be late too.” 
— • —
with 10 minutes to spare and probably a few traffic violations, you and yoongi arrive at the front of his building. 
“Here you go, you owe me a latte.” You grumble halfheartedly, glancing at your watch and seeing that you only have 15 minutes to get to your class for your own midterm, not enough time to get your signature latte. 
Yoongi fixes his flannel, and grabs his bag. “Yeah, I’ll buy you all the goddamn lattes you want, peach. Thanks for waking my ass up, again, you’re a lifesaver.”
Then he does something you don’t expect. 
He kisses your cheek. 
Yeah, you and Yoongi are best friends. But you never kissed on the cheek or became overly touchy with each other. Your peak touchiness was during your particularly bad break-up with an ex that left you in tears. Yoongi had cuddled you then and patted your back as you sobbed into his sweater. 
Other than that, this was a first. 
He didn’t seem fazed by it though, and if he was, he didn’t show it. 
“Thanks again.” He mutters, opening the passenger door and hopping out of the car, closing the door and entering his building without glancing back. 
You shook your head, it was better to not fill yourself up with hope, hope that can fuel the two years worth of feelings you’ve been trying to hide from the blonde rapper since you’ve discovered them. 
“Bestfriends.” You mutter, driving to your own building. 
2
You could feel the music thumping in your ears, sweat trickled down slowly on the back of your neck.
It was Jimin’s birthday, you guys were out at a club downtown, dancing the night away. 
“I’m going to grab a drink taetae, I’ll be right back!” You yell through the music, tae nods enthusiastically. “Be careful!” He yells back, resuming his dance battle with hobi and jimin. 
With a permanent smile etched on your face, you make your way towards the bar. 
“What can I get for you miss?” The bartender asks, polishing a glass as he does so. 
“Whiskey on the rocks please.” You request, sitting down on one of the bar stools, the bartender responds with confirmation as he goes to make you the drink. 
“What’s a pretty little lady doing all alone?” A voice says from behind you. 
Spinning on your heel, you come face to face with a guy who seems to be taller by a foot. 
“I’m not alone, I’m just getting a drink.” You say dismissively, making a move to turn back to the bar. 
You don’t get to though, the man; whoever he is, grabs your hips and spins you and your chair towards him again. 
You immediately slap his hands away from your hips with force. “Do not touch me.” You hiss.
The man raises his hands up in a surrender motion, smirking. “Keep the claws away babe, I’m just trying to make conversation.” 
The audacity that men have. 
“I’m pretty sure starting conversations doesn’t involve putting your hands on women who don’t know you.” You gripe. 
“Apologies, you’re just too pretty to pass up on.” He supplies, as if that’s going to make the situation better. 
“Not interested.” You wave him off with a flick of your wrist, thanking the bartender as he serves you your drink, eyeing the man that was currently talking to you warily. 
“Aw come on, don’t be like that sweetheart.” He disgustingly says, putting his fingers under your chin and forcibly moves your head towards him. 
Before you can slap this asshole, his hand is forcibly torn away from you, as he’s pushed away from you and lands on his ass on the floor
“What the fuc-“ 
“Didn’t she tell you not to touch her already?” Yoongi’s voice steels coldly. 
“And who the fuck are you huh? Are you her boyfriend or something?” The guy spits, bouncers already on their way to take him out of the club. 
“And what if I am? What’s that got to do with her not wanting to be touched by a fucking stranger?” Yoongi spits right back. 
You’re thankful for the pounding bass of the music that blasts through the club, because you can delude yourself into thinking that your heart isn’t beating as loudly as the music is. 
“Damn man, she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend, it’s not my fault.” The scumbag tries to pin the blame on you, bouncers already grabbing him by the arms to lead him out of the bar. 
Yoongi scoffs. “She didn’t have to tell you shit, maybe don’t go around putting your hands on random women without their consent, fucker.” 
Small cheers and applause can be heard through the little circle that has formed around the commotion, as the guy gets ejected from the club. 
“You alright peach?” Yoongi asks, offering his hand to help you hop off the bar stool.  
You place your palm onto his, and you hop off the stool, signaling for the bartender that you weren’t in the mood to drink anymore, but you’d still pay of course. 
“It’s on us, hope you feel better after that whole ordeal.” The bartender explains, smiling softly at you. You nod in thanks as Yoongi drags you out back.
The cold air hits you once you’re outside, a shiver automatically goes through your body since the silk fitted short dress you were wearing barely did anything to protect you from the wind. 
Yoongi ; bless his heart — notices (of course he does) and proceeds to remove his leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. 
Without the drumming of the bass in your ears, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears more clearly, cheeks going flush at something that was a normal thing for you and your best friend. 
“Thanks yoon.” Yoongi nods. “You should be more careful, there are a lot of assholes that only want pussy in joints like these.” 
You snort, punching him in the shoulder lightly. “I know, just didn’t expect him to get extra handsy.” Pausing, you say carefully. “You said you were my boyfriend back there, damn Min Yoongi, if you wanted to date me so bad, you should have just said so.” Jokes like these would be funny, if it wasn’t breaking your heart slowly. 
It’s Yoongi’s turn to snort. “Please, as if I’d ever date you.” He jokingly responds, bumping your shoulder. 
Crack. Crack. You’d pretend that it’s the sound of your heels scratching through the pavement and not the pathetic sound of your heartbreaking at something Yoongi would consider a ‘joke’ 
“And besides, you’re my best friend. I’d do or say anything to save your ass and get assholes off your back.” He continues. 
“Yeah…” bestfriend, of course. 
“How about I take you home, let’s get some ice cream going and let’s watch that shitty movie you always cry over.” 
You roll your eyes, albeit softly. “Inside out is not a shitty movie, you’re just an emotionally constipated dick.” You jest. 
“Whatever, let me go get my phone from Joon and we’ll get going.” He says, dragging you back into the club. 
Right as you near Namjoon, a girl stops you and yoongi in your tracks. 
“Yoongi-ah. Where have you been? You promised we’d spend time together.” She annoyingly whines, clinging onto Yoongi’s bicep. 
“Soojin, I was busy— still am actually, so if you don’t mind.” He shrugs her off, motioning for you to follow him towards Namjoon. 
But this bitch, man, is persistent. (And shameless)
She grabs Yoongi’s face and smashes her lips against his. 
You get a front row seat on how Yoongi's hands instinctively land on her hips, pulling her closer to him as his eyes close. 
Crack. Crack. Of course 
Soojin pulls away from him with a smirk. “Come on, you know you want to have fun.” She begs. 
Yoongi sighs, looking towards you. 
You offer a small smile, despite your heart splitting even more. “Go yoons, I’ll go home with chim and hobi.” You reason. 
He doesn’t even give it a second thought, he smiles at you. “Thanks peach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gone was the caring and protective nature from a while ago, instead in its place is what you would call Yoongi’s default. 
Sultry eyes, signature fuckboy smirk, hands roaming around a body (that isn’t yours). 
He doesn’t even spare you another glance as he’s dragged towards the bathroom by Soojin, she’s the one who shoots you a victory smirk— god did you want to deck her in the throat. 
As they disappear from your view, you let out a sigh. There was nothing you could do after all, you were his best friend, not his girlfriend. 
3
“Dude, literally fuck anaphy.” You spit out, banging your head on the textbook in front of you. 
“I definitely don’t envy you, peach, this is why I chose music production and songwriting over needles and gore”. Yoongi chuckles, pulling his headphones back a little bit, and looking away from his laptop. 
As a Biological Sciences major, you were on track to go to med school after graduating. But on days like this, studying for finals was where you wanted to drop it all and just become a stripper. 
“Yeah yeah, you act like your major is easier but I could never do what you do yoons, fucking make masterpieces out of thin air.” You grumble. 
Yoongi chuckles once again. “Thanks for thinking that, you’re probably one of the rare few who think art related courses aren’t easier by default to science courses”. 
You loved studying with Yoongi. Even though your majors couldn’t be any more different from each other, you guys thrived in each other’s presence. You both knew each other’s limits and when the other should take a break. 
After your episode during your second year, that led to you almost spending a night in the hospital with insanely low blood pressure as a result from not sleeping and eating well while studying— Yoongi has made it his mission to never leave you alone when studying for finals season. He was always there, everytime it was time for the finals season grind, Yoongi was ready to study with you despite him not needing to study at all since all of his midterms and finals were output based. 
This time though, it would prove to be different. 
The ring of his phone startled the two of you slightly. 
“Yes Miran?” He answers, making your heart clench. 
Miran— Yoongi’s newest regular hook-up, a pain in your ass like all of his other hook-ups who made it their mission to rub it in your face that they have this weird grip on Yoongi. Even though he always tells them that you were his best friend and nothing else. 
Yeah, cause that hurts way less. 
“I’m studying with Y/N at her apartment.” He states, rolling his eyes at whatever Miran was saying on the other line. 
“I already told you that I couldn’t make it today, don’t be such a baby about this.” He sighs “No she and I aren’t dating, and neither are we. I already told you this.” 
Of course, the constant reassurance to his hook-ups that you were nothing more than his best friend. 
“Fuck, then why are you being so pushy if you know?” He grits out, annoyance clear in his voice. 
You clear your throat lightly, making Yoongi glace towards you. 
Nodding towards his phone. “It’s alright, just go. I’m almost done reviewing anyway.” You say. 
Yoongi’s eyes soften, effectively ignoring Miran’s blubbering on the other line. “You sure? I can stay peach, Miran doesn’t matter that much.” 
You can hear Miran’s downright insulted (annoying) voice on the other line. 
You scoff softly, “Go yoons, she’s about to blow a gasket. I’ll be fine.” 
Yoongi nods, not even giving it a second thought. “I’ll just come back for my things later, I'll bring you some takeout.” 
“Yeah yeah, have fun.” You lifelessly wave him away. 
“Thanks peach, I’ll make it up to you.” And without sparing you another glance he was out the door. As always. 
4
“I told you to stop staying up so late for days on end, this is the reason you’re sick, like this is all on you Min.” You grumble as you struggle to lay down another cold cloth on his forehead
“Cut me some slack on the scolding peach, I’m sick.” He whines as another wave of shivers rake through his body. 
Yoongi showed up at your doorstep last night, sweaty and cold at the same time. Falling asleep on your couch as per usual, only when you woke up this morning that you found him shivering and running a high fever. 
You had him move; albeit gingerly, to your bed. Changing him into one of your hoodies, and made him some chicken noodle soup. 
You made a few calls to Jin as well, asking the elder if he could pick up more fever medication as you were low in stock. The older agreed and dropped them off earlier. 
“Seriously yoon, how did it get this bad.” You tsk, usually he comes down with these types of fevers once a year. He calls it his “sick period” , the cold months of november and december making him extremely susceptible to sickness. 
He tries to shrug. “I was just so hung up on this one song, I couldn’t leave it alone”. He reasons, eyes closing in relief when you replace the already warm towel on his forehead with a cooler one. 
It was always like that, he’d get stuck on a song and he just wouldn’t know to stop. It was a toxic habit that kept building up since he first started getting into music all those years ago. 
You were the only one who was able to drag and boss him out of the studio without being yelled at by the moody man. 
“Do you want more soup yoon? I can make some more.” You say, combing your fingers through his hair, in hopes of getting him some relief. 
“No, just stay here.” Yoongi croaks out, closing his eyes. 
You grab the already warm towel again, dipping it into the bowl of cold water on the side table. Placing it on his forehead once again after squeezing out the water. 
“You’re gonna be okay Min.” You say quietly. 
Yoongi chuckles quietly, eyes still closed. “I’m so thankful that you’re my best friend.” 
Of course. Bestfriend. 
“Yeah, me too.” You respond quietly, feeling like the cracking of your heart wasn’t just audible to you but to the entire world. 
“I’m just saying, maybe going out on dates isn’t such a bad thing.” Jimin reiterates, ignoring the scoff that comes out of Yoongi’s mouth. 
You shrug fondly at Jimin. “Well, I agreed to go on that date with Hyoseop, we’ll see, I don’t know how to feel about him yet, doesn’t give me that oomph you know.” Not as much as he does, and Jimin knew that. 
Him and Tae have been your go-to people when it comes to barfing up all your feelings for your Min Yoongi. 
“And besides, she doesn’t need to go on random dates, she’s busy enough as it is with uni and us.” Yoongi butts in. 
Jimin raises his eyebrows at that. “You know what, it seems to me that you don’t want her to find a boyfriend, why is that hyung?” He asks, head tilting to the side, daring Yoongi to say something. 
Even though Yoongi and the boys were inseparable and were basically brothers, that didn’t stop Jimin from thinking that his Hyung was an absolute idiot. 
All the crying and sulking you’ve done the past years everytime Yoongi ditched you for a hook-up, Taehyung and Jimin had witnessed. So it’s safe to say that they want to throttle Yoongi into the ground with brotherly tough love. 
Yoongi takes a sip of his drink. He had been against your upcoming date the most, voicing out his irrational concerns since you guys met up this morning. 
“I just think she doesn’t need anyone, she’s independent, and smart. No one’s good enough.” He spews out. 
Taehyung cackles. “I’m sure those qualities don’t have anything to do with wanting to date, hyung.” 
“Still, and meeting a complete stranger. What if something goes wrong? What if he’s a total fucking creep and you get kidnapped or something.” 
It was your turn to cackle. “Yoon, come on, that's a reach.” 
“Yeah, and besides, Hyoseop-ssi is Jin hyung’s friend, he’s the same age as you, hyung.” Jimin explains. “Plus he’s a pre-law student, has 2 older sisters, raised by a single mom; he screams good guy, not to mention that his step-dad is rich as fuck! Dude got a yacht for his birthday.” 
Yoongi’s scowl gets deeper the more Jimin lists off Hyoseop’s ‘qualifications’. 
You sigh, putting a hand over his shoulder. “Chill Yoon, It’s just a date. If it turns out to be horrible then I’ll never see him again.” 
“But what if it turns out great? What happens then.” He spits out. 
“I don’t know, we’ll see- I guess.” You shrug.
Yoongi scoffs, standing up and moving towards the door of Jimin’s apartment. “Whatever, I’m gonna head out first— meeting Seyoung in a bit. See you guys tomorrow.” Without glancing back, he closes the door and disappears. 
Jimin tsks. “Hyung is such a hardass, when is he going to admit that he likes you.” He grumbles. 
“As if.” You scoff
You can’t help a small part of you be hopeful, that maybe, just maybe he would do the soap opera cliché of dramatically opposing your date, and declare his undying love for you. 
But even most soap opera’s didn’t turn out like that anyway. 
+ 1 
“Thanks for the food Hyoseop-ssi, it was really good.” You commend, rubbing your belly halfheartedly for show. 
Hyoseop chuckles, shaking his head at your antics. “Of course, I’m glad you like my cooking.” 
You and Hyoseop have been on 3 dates already, and they all turned out exceptionally well. Although both of you agreed to just take it slow and get to know each other more, rather than just jump into a premature relationship.
You were about to help him clean up when your phone rings. It was 11pm, and only one person could be calling you this late. 
“I’m sorry, let me get this real quick.” You excuse yourself. 
“No worries, take your time Y/N-ah.” 
You smile, moving towards his living room. 
“What’s the matter yoon.” You immediately say, not even bothering to look at the caller id. Only Min Yoongi had the gall to ignore your no phone calls after the 10pm rule. 
“Peach!! C-Can you come pick me up?” Muffled slurred words came through the phone, along with the faint thumping of music in the background. 
“Huh, what’s up? Aren’t you out with Joon and Hobi?” You ask, knowing that it was their scheduled hang out at the club today. 
“I was, b-but— hey watch it! Anyways, they left early and I forgot that I d-didn’t have a car, plus I don’t have a-anymore cash with me so…” he rambles, hiccuping occasionally. 
“Uhm…” you pause, looking back towards the kitchen, where Hyoseop was. 
“Please? It’s r-really fucking cold and I don’t want to p-puke and fall asleep on t-the sidewalk.” 
You sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. 
“Okay okay, I’ll pick you up in a bit, give me 5 minutes yoon, and I’ll be there.” 
“Thank you, y-you’re the best.” He mumbles. 
You end the call and make your way towards Hyoseop. 
“Everything okay?” Hyoseop asks, noticing your furrowed brows. 
“Uhm, I have to go pick up Yoongi from the club, he’s plastered and has no one to take him home. I’m sorry it’s so sudden.” You explain. 
Hyoseop nods understandably. “Go for it, I don’t mind. He’s your bestfriend isn’t he? I wouldn’t want him to get into trouble.” 
You nod, grabbing your coat and bag from the counter. “Yeah, thank you Hyoseop-ssi, I’ll make it up to you.” 
Hyoseop flashes a grin. “If you want to make it up to me, come with me to my sister’s birthday next week on my dad’s yacht.” 
“A yacht? Okay big time swinger, no need to pull out the big guns.” You joke, swatting him on the shoulder lightly. 
“Hey, that’s my condition. Take it or leave it.” He jokes, smiling even wider. 
“Alright alright. I’ll go.” You agree, chuckling at the man in front of you. 
“Good, now go save your best friend.” He playfully dismisses you with a flick of his wrist.
While you speed to leave, you fail to notice the look that Hyoseop gives you, the look of someone who knows when a person is in love with someone else. 
— • —
“Peach! Y-You made it!” Yoongi bellows out as you get out of your car to help him up as he was almost passed out on the sidewalk. 
“Come on Yoon, up we go into the car.” You manage to drag him up and successfully get him inside. 
“Please don’t puke in my car, if you need to vomit, wait until we get to my apartment.” You plead
Yoongi basically passes out in your car, eyes closed the entire 15 minute trip back to your apartment. 
He only stirs when you poke his cheek to wake him up. 
“Come on yoon, we’re here.” He grumbles incoherently, before struggling to unbuckle himself. 
You drag Yoongi’s ass to the couch where he plops down, hands rubbing his face. 
“God what did you drink, how are you this drunk.” You interrogate, grabbing a spare towel from the cupboard and soaking it in cold water. 
Yoongi groans. “I don’t k-know, whiskey, tequila, brandy fuck a l-lot.” You start wiping his face with the cold towel, hoping to ease the effects of alcohol even just a little bit. 
“That’s dangerous yoon, you got shitfaced even though you knew that you couldn’t go home with the boys.” You lecture. 
“I know p-peach.” 
You sigh, continuing to wipe him down with the cold towel, you stop though when he grabs your wrist. 
“What?” You ask, avoiding his gaze. 
Your heart started to beat wildly, the close proximity and his hand on your wrist did not help ease it at all. 
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers. 
“Oh please, you’re acting like you don’t insult my darn good looks everyday.” You chuckle nervously, prying your wrist out of his hand. 
“I’m serious p-peach.” He stutters out. 
“Knock it off Yoon, you need to get some sleep.” You grumble, resuming your actions from before. 
A hand on your cheek stops you in your tracks. You move your gaze, finally locking eyes with your best friend. 
“I r-really want to kiss you right now.” 
And oh does your heart shatter. 
On a regular day, this would have been your ‘it’ moment. The moment where you jump in happiness and act out a cliché seen from a movie. 
You’d probably jump in his arms, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. 
Drunk Yoongi didn’t mean any of this, it was his default (or so you thought) to be flirty to anyone when he’s shitfaced. 
All you wanted was his love, and he somewhat declares it in a way you know he wouldn’t be remembering tomorrow. 
And that fucking breaks your already cracked heart. 
Tears sting your eyes, as you gently remove his hand from your cheek. Chuckling somberly. 
“Real sweet, but I wish you were sober.” You whimper.
Fuck did you wish he was sober. 
You truly did. 
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I hope you guys liked it 🥹
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samflynn89 · 1 year
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[Hiya! Thought I'd send this in? Does not have to be a thread, if you don't want it to be. You seem cool, just wanted to say hi. Also I know I tend to write novels for starters, but you do not have to match length... write however you want! —@not-that-dillinger]
To say that the day had been hectic was an understatement. Or two days, he supposed, though it felt like one never ending day.
Things had already been busy, getting ready for the release of the Encom OS the day before, but then that had been stolen, then things had spiraled from there. Ed hadn't slept that night, and then he came in to work that morning to learn that Sam Flynn was taking back the company.
It had been meeting after wretched meeting after that, with hardly a break in between. Now it was 2 PM (how was it only two???), and Ed would like a moment of to himself, just long enough to drink his coffee in peace without someone requiring his attention to scrounge up the spoons he'd need to survive the rest of his meetings until 5. He wished the drink on his desk was tea, or even his usual more-sugar-than-caffeine, would-you-like-some-coffee-with-that-milk coffee, but he needed the caffeine, and he didn't have the social spoons or the time to stay in the break room longer than it took to brew the single cup and flee back to his office.
Except he'd barely sat down and began to clear the sticky notes for the OS off his desk when there was a knock at his door.
Ed took a deep breath, and slowly counted down from ten. It wasn't Mackey; he wouldn't have knocked, which meant whoever it was, they didn't deserve his annoyance. Then he stood up, schooled his expression to a careful neutral that (he hoped) hid his exhaustion, and answered the door.
Ed hadn't expected Sam Flynn to be there, and he braced, half expecting to be fired on the spot. At least Flynn had the decency to knock.
"Can I help you?" he asked politely.
Sam hasn't slept since returning from the Grid. It's not the first all-nighter he's pulled, and he's sure it won't be the last now that he's decided to step into the role he fought against for so long. He doesn't need a mirror to know he looks like hell, he can see it in the way every employee he passed on his way in has looked at him with alarm. Though he supposes that also could have been shock, his return had been abrupt.
He's running on fumes. The adrenaline rush of the last few hours is giving way to a deep seated exhaustion that he refuses to pay any mind to - certain that if he so much as acknowledged it, he'd crumple under the weight of it all.
So instead, he finds the one person in this brutalist shell of his father's company that he knows. The one person beside Alan, who would have too many questions for Sam's already overloaded brain. It all seems like a solid plan, to seek out someone familiar, until Ed actually opens the door and Sam realizes he's not even sure why he came here in the first place.
They're not friends. They're not even acquaintances.
"Uh, hi," Sam says, knowing he must look just as awkward as he feels. He's got one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans, the other rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. Even if Sam did have a suit back at his apartment, he wouldn't have worn it, which means he's standing in an office in the same clothes he spent most the early morning riding around on his bike in. Great first impression. He can already sense how most the board is going to receive his less than inspiring appearance.
"Can we talk?"
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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Always You | JJK (One)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack
Word Count: 10.2k (yikes, I know) (I will try to shorten future chapters, ya girl is sorry)
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, puking, reader is a drunk cry baby, reader is kinda embarrassing, jk is kinda jelaous, mentions of sleeping around, reader and jk are pretty affectionate, jk’s thighs are mentioned—that’s like, a warning in itself right?
Notes: hiiiii, the first part is here! Once again, really nervous about this so please go easy on me but mostly, just enjoy! :) also sorry for any typos!!!!
© taestefully-in-luv
Next
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The sun is a magical thing. It lights up and warms the Earth, it enhances your mood, it helps plants grow, it literally provides for life. Without the sun, life on Earth would cease to exist. What the sun also does? The sun also shines down on us and lights up the most beautiful things. The sun today, however, is especially highlighting the most beautiful thing. The way the glittering rays gleam through the windows you can see how todays sun focuses on him.
That’s right, you guessed it. Kim Taehyung. His skin is absolutely glowing in the rays, his eyes sparkle in the light that shines down. Yes, Kim Taehyung is an other-worldly being. The way he just stands there and shimmers you can’t help but stare but also like, shy away because his beauty is so god damn blinding. Wait…was this dramatic? This might be dramatic. You’re too far gone to care though. His boxy grin, the way his hair falls into his eyes, the mole on his—
“I just want you to know, you are fucking drooling.” You hear the scoff of the man across from you, Jeon Jungkook, also known as your best friend.
You lazily shake your head as the two of you sit nice and snug in the booths of your favorite coffee shop. It’s one of the colder spring days, the breeze biting at your skin when you were outside but now, you have Jungkook’s scarf wrapped loosely around your neck and hot coffee in your hands.
“I mean, I get it. He’s gorgeous but do you really have to go this far?”
You bring the white mug full of black coffee to your lips. It’s hot and burns the tip of your tongue, but not anything you’re not use to.
“Yes.” You state plainly. You know exactly to what he is referring to. You don’t usually come here at this time, in fact you are usually a creature of habit and come at the same time on the same days… Tuesday and Thursdays in the evening but its Friday and like 1pm. But you knew Kim Taehyung was going to be here when he snapped a picture of the famous white mug with the shops logo on it and posted on his story. You bring your hand up to your forehead, saluting to the sky, “Thank you Snapchat.” So yes, naturally when you saw he was at this coffee shop you hurried to make sure you were too. Maybe it is fucking desperate. Okay it is. But could you blame a girl? He was one of the hottest guys you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.
“This is ridiculous,” Jungkook huffs into his own mug, “You could just talk to him…”
Now it was your turn to scoff.
“As fucking if!”
Jungkook smirks into his mug, taking a sip of the burning hot coffee. “That incapable, hmm?”
“It’s not that I’m incapable JK,” You blow on the drink nonchalantly, “I am simply just not worthy.”
“You are so stupid, I swear.” He huffs into his mug again.
“What do you mean?”
Jungkook breathes out slowly, biting his lip as if contemplating what to say.
It’s like, what can he say? He wishes he could tell you a million things that would ease your mind, that could possibly give you the confidence you need or maybe just slap the reality on you that Taehyung doesn’t deserve you. But then he will get asked ‘why’ and he can’t have that.
“What?” you whine into your cup before setting it down.
“You’re really cool and also pretty?” he says quirking a brow in question. Because apparently that’s all he can come up with.
“That’s a question? Also am I dying? You’re complimenting me?” you tease, giving him an exaggerated look of satisfaction.
“I just mean…” Jungkook runs a hand through his messy dark locks, “You have nothing to worry about, ya know?”
Nothing to worry about he says! What does he know? He can literally get any girl—or guy for that matter—that he wants. You dip your head, frowning at the idea.
Jungkook has been your best friend since your freshmen year and there’s nothing you treasure more than his friendship. You bite your lips and tilt your head trying to recall his first presence in your life…oh! That stupid frat party freshmen year…you met at a frat party during your first semester and totally hit it off. Did he try to get into your pants? Okay, yeah maybe. He offered a room just up the stairs that night, but you refused…seemingly too shy. But Jungkook was nothing but understanding. He pat your back and said he knew a better place, and that was the 24 diner down the street. And the rest is history
“Obviously I don’t know and oh my god don’t look but—” You try saying before Jungkook is completely turning his head around to look. Classic Jungkook.
“Oh hey Tae.” Jungkook says in The Kim Taehyungs direction. Taehyung walks up to your table, you thought the sun only highlighted his beauty but up close he is the sun. You knew it was a magical thing.
“Hey guys! “ Taehyung stands there as bright as a fucking light, waving at you and your best friend. Oh yeah, did we forget to mention Jungkook is also friends with said Kim Taehyung? Okay, so maybe talking to Taehyung shouldn’t be that hard, since you share the same fucking friends. And you guys are technically friends too.
“Sup dude.” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly, picking up his coffee mug once again. His long fingers wrapping around the porcelain, warming him up. You watch as Jungkook takes a sip of his beverage with his doe eyes on you, he nods his head towards Taehyung and winks at you as he gulps down the drink. Of course, he’s teasing you.
“Hey y/n!” Taehyungs smile shines so brightly you want to actually kill yourself. What is up with this dude and being so blinding?
“Hey Taehyung…” you gulp your coffee awkwardly, giving him a small wave of the hand.
“y/n I told you to call me Tae!”
“Right…” you chuckle into the coffee creating bubbles of the liquid like the fucking pathetic lil thang you are.
Yeah, talking to The Kim Taehyung is not your specialty. Never was.
2 years ago
Your head is buried in books on the table of your campuses library with Jungkook fast asleep next to you. Statistics shouldn’t be this hard but it fucking is and you are groaning into your book, on the verge of pulling your hair out when a deep voice that rumbles your insides interrupts you—actually fuck it, you don’t feel like getting into a flashback. Just know that you met Taehyung (officially through Jungkook) and he ended up calling you pretty and you’ve thought about it every day since. Because you are pathetic. What’s new?
And that was it, that’s all it took for you to gain a massive crush on the boy.
“What’s up dude?” Jungkook asks again. He is now scrolling through his phone, probably swiping through Tinder, if you have to guess. And you’re right because he’s turning his phone towards you showing you some random girl, his wide eyes asking for your opinion. You roll your eyes and nod your head ‘yes’. As you can guess, this happens quite often.
“Ummm…” Taehyung runs a frustrated hand through his hair, you slowly tilt your head to soak him in when you notice he looks almost…panicked? “I need help with something actually,” but he isn’t looking at Jungkook as he says this, no. He’s looking at you.
“You see that girl at the counter over there? The one with long hair, not the other one.” He nods his head in the general direction while still remaining discreet.
You tilt your head to steal a glance at the counter and yes you do see the girl he is referring to. She’s got long brown hair that reaches her waist and man, she is gorgeous. Big, bright eyes. Full, pouting lips. Long legs and yeah, the works. Taehyung sure knows how to pick them. Did he need help to get her number of something? Like a wing woman? You mean, does he really need the help?
“Yes, I see her.” Is all you say to him and you expect him to ask you to go over there but instead he says,
“Great. I need you to be my girlfriend.”
You blink lazily at him as you process his words while Jungkook chokes on his drink.
“You want her to be your what?” Jungkook is the first to speak.
“My girlfriend.” He says again before his eyes go wide, “Like, like my fake girlfriend.” Taehyung turns a wonderful shade of red before his hand is reaching to scratch the back of his neck, chuckling to himself. “This girl—Anna…she is a bit obsessed? Ya know? Won’t leave me alone type thing and …and I have tried saying I have a girlfriend but she followed me to this coffee shop when she heard I was here. Like, who does that?”
Now it’s your turn to turn red, because you. You would fucking do that.
“That’s horrible Taehy—” you begin to say before Taehyungs large eyes pierce into your own, “Please y/n.”
“Anna???” Jungkook cuts in setting his phone on the table. “Like Anna Anna?” Jungkook squints his eyes at his friend before scoffing. “...She’s not doing it.” his eyes go between Taehyung and this girl Anna. “Don’t involve her in whatever game you—"
“I’ll do it.” You say, even surprising yourself. “I mean, it’s just pretend and for this moment so why not?” you begin to explain yourself. Plus for a few minutes you can pretend you’re really his girlfriend and your delusional mind will thrive off that.
Tae is quick to straighten his back and smile widely before he is ushering you to scoot over in the booth to let him in. “Scoot scoot” he whispers, grinning from ear to ear.
“Tae, you can’t be serious—” Jungkook is quick to say something, anything. His hands scrambling to grab his phone and hands it to Taehyung from across the table. “Here. Call up some other girl to do this. Don’t involve y/n.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a look of panic before Jungkook speaks up again, “Plus, y/n would be the worst fake girlfriend,” And that’s it. That’s all it takes. Jungkook’s constant negativity pisses you off so much that it drives what you say next.
“No need Taehyung.” You snatch Jungkook’s phone and shove it back in his hands. “Why don’t you call up one of your girls yourself and leave us alone?”
Jungkook looks at you shocked, his brows furrowing so deeply you are almost concerned for his face and the wrinkles that might set in.
“y/n…?” his stupid doe eyes look at you with so much confusion.
“I just mean, I can do this Jungkook. Don’t have to be so concerned.”
At that, Taehyung lights up.
“Great!” and his long arm wraps around your waist and when he was sure Anna is looking he leans in to plant a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thanks for doing this…” he whispers in your ear before placing another kiss.
Your eyes meet Jungkook’s shocked ones. He looks like he just saw a ghost, all the color drained from his face as he watches you and Taehyung.
“Uh….” You don’t have any words for Taehyung—or Tae as he likes to be called.
You don’t even have the balls to glance his way, you don’t even have the balls to breathe in his direction.
“Look at me?” Taehyung’s finger is on your chin, guiding it towards his face.
“No…” Jungkook spurts out, “I mean, y/n don’t we have to go?” Jungkook looks at you with a look you’ve never really seen before. Maybe it’s desperation but you don’t really care.
“We don’t actually” you respond nonchalantly.
And with that you turn to face Taehyung more properly. His face is so close to yours it’s almost suffocating.
“What is it…Tae?” you try out his nickname for the first time. His cheeks flush and he scoots back just an inch.
“Thank you for doing this but…” his eyes slide to the side, eyeing Jungkook. “I was thinking we could do this for a couple of weeks, at the least. Ya know, to make it believable.”
Surprising you and Taehyung, Jungkook rises from his seat at the booth,
“y/n let’s go.” He simply states, not even looking at you. Taehyung looks panicked as you look between the boys.
“Tae…” you started to say before Jungkook reaches over the table to grab your wrist, “Come oooooooonnnnn” But you are quick to yank it back.
“Stop Jungkook, you’re being childish.”
Taehyung tightens his hold on you, “Yeah Kookie, sit back down…please.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung, giving him a look that screams ‘are you serious?!’
“Childish? Okay.” He gives you a look of disappointment before grabbing his phone and his bag and walking away from the table. You watch in disbelief as Jungkook’s figure disappears from your view. What was up with him?
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with him…”
“Right…” Tae responds quietly, his grip on your waist loosening up. “He’s just really protective over you, huh?” Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation, “y/n. I’m serious, let’s do this. I’ll pay for your coffee for the next month if you do this with me. Please, I am quite literally begging you.” He breathes out through his nose in an attempt to laugh. “She won’t leave me alone otherwise.”
You bite your lip in deep thought, your brows pulled together. Taehyung couldn’t help but find you cute.
“For a month? What happened to a few weeks?” you ask, a playful smirk gracing your features.
Taehyung couldn’t help the grin that made its way on his face.
“1 month.” He breathes out. “Unless you fall in love with me during that time and beg for more time….” He pokes his tongue out, his teasing tone going straight to your lady bits. If only he knew.
“Fine, but we should set some ground rules…don’t you think?”
“Okay. Like what?”
“Oh…I don’t—”
Taehyung raises a brow, “Don’t say something stupid like ‘no kissing’…because we want to make it as realistic as possible, don’t we?” he leans in just a bit more. Without Jungkook around Taehyung seems a bit more confident.
“Oh, you want to kiss me then?”
“It’s just for show. We don’t gotta think too hard about it.” His face inches closer and closer.
“Love…” you say, in a complete daze. Too lost in Taehyungs big brown eyes.
“What about it?” he doesn’t blink, just continues to stare into your eyes.
“We…would if one of us catches feelings? Then we should stop it, right?” You choke out.
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as an impossibly cute giggle escapes his lips, “You’re so cute. How many romcoms have you watched to come up with that line?”
“I’m serious.” You push your head back, “This could become hurtful if one of us falls in love…” You say this knowing it’s you. Well, obviously. Just because Taehyung called you pretty 2 years ago doesn’t mean he likes you.
“Okay, sweetheart.” Taehyung gets close again, “I’ll tell you.” And then he leans in, just an inch from your face. His lips hovering over your own and you can see his eyes still on you, like he’s silently asking for permission. You can’t help the nod of your head and you, yourself don’t stop yourself from leaning in.
Taehyungs lips are just as soft as you had always imagined. His lips only peck yours, the kiss is short but sweet. Once he pulls back you see his eyes slide to the counter where that Anna girl stands, and a look of relief washes over his features.
“Thank God, she bought it. She looks pissed,” he laughs loudly, “She saw us and is totally storming out!”
Oh, right. This is all for show.
“Oh, good.”
“Thanks y/n!” Taehyung’s smile is so wide it takes up the entire booth. He goes in for a quick hug, pulling back he smiles again before reaching his hand to pat your head.
“You’re a good girl.” He says and slips out of the booth. Welp, you wish those words didn’t go straight to your vagina.
“Uh, thanks.” You sputter out, not entirely sure what just happened.
“See you later?” he asks then his face lights up, “I’ll bring you a coffee.”
“Well, that is the deal.” You shoot him some pathetic finger guns.
You stare down at your now cold coffee, and look across from you at the now empty booth where Jungkook once sat.
“I’ll text you with more details later!” he shakes his phone in his hand,
“Bye bye…girlfriend.” He finishes off with a wink and skips, yes fucking skips away.
You are left alone at your table, with an empty seat across from you and a cold coffee. And now a fake boyfriend with the guy you have a massive crush on. This couldn’t possibly go all wrong, could it?
~~~
“This is definitely going to go all wrong, you realize that, right? This is a bad idea y/n and you know it.”
Jungkook’s legs are swung over your own as he lays on the couch, his focus on his phone in his hands. He wears his gray puma sweat suit you love so much and smells exactly the same as always—clean laundry and his own musk. You can’t help but eye him over, his dark strands of hair falling into his eyes as he bobbles his head to rid himself of the stray pieces. You aren’t blind, Jungkook is like, crazy hot and sometimes your staring can become a problem.
“Like, ‘we can’t fall in love with each other’” he mocks, “What sort of bullshit? You already in love, aren’t you?” he peeks over his phone to get a look at you waiting for some sort of rejection of his words.
“It’s just a crush, Jungkook.”
“Sure.” His eyes go back to his screen. “You’re pretty dumb for doing this.”
“Did I mention we kissed?”
“Only 100 times now you sicko.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and you can’t help but giggle.
It’s no secret that Jungkook is against this—whatever this is. He always has been…ever since you mentioned it 2 years ago sophomore year.
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?!” you ask in disbelief.
You just confessed your little crush on Taehyung to Jungkook, the two of you sitting across from one another in the library when he rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.
“Can you not yell? We’re literally in a library. And I don’t feel like getting kicked out this week…again.” He rolls his pen between his fingers as he speaks.
“Okay one: that’s your own fault for getting caught with your hand down some girls pants. And Two: what do you mean ‘no’?”
“Taehyung is off limits for you.” He says, totally unbothered.
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means, he’s my friend for one so gross, and also he’s kind of like…emotionally unavailable.”
You chew on your pen, wondering what that could mean. Like, he doesn’t date? He doesn’t ‘do’ relationships? He’s already in love with someone else?
“I’m not telling you.” Jungkook’s pen slides against his paper as he writes, “His life.”
Oh, you asked that out loud.
“Whatever Jungkook, it’s just a crush.”
It feels nice to have a crush on someone other than…
Ding
Your phone goes off and you hurry to check it. What? It could be Taehyung wanting to go over the details of the ‘plan’. But much to your disappointment it was just Jimin.
Jimin 9:42pm
Where are you guys? Party has BEEN started girl
Y/N 9:42pm
We’re about to leave babe, see you soonish
Jimin 9:43pm
You guys fuckin? *smirk face emoji*
Y/N 9:43pm
Did you just…write smirk face emoji instead of putting the emoji itself
Y/N 9:44pm
Also how many times do I have to tell you JK and I aren’t like that
Jimin 9:45pm
Whatevs, see you soon babe xoxo
You set your phone down in your lap, your fingers going to massage Jungkook’s calves as you sneak a glance at him, he closes his eyes in satisfaction as you continue massaging the muscle.
“We gotta get go—also, that’s now what you’re wearing right?”
“Not going tonight. But have fun.” Jungkook sets his phone on his chest, letting out a long breath while folding his arms behind his head. He looks comfortable like, you almost believe him that he’s really staying in.
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m serious.”
“What do you mean?”
“Y/N why don’t we just stay in tonight?” He whines, he unfolds his arms and reaches for your hand. “Let’s go buy a 12 pack, get fucked up and just ya know, stay in.” Though this doesn’t sound like a bad idea, it also sounds like every Friday night with the two of you and you want to do something different tonight. But it would take some convincing. You interlock your fingers with his and he melts at your touch, his dopey smile growing.
“It’s a good idea, right?” he says, blinking up at you.
You smile back, tilting your head just the slightest before your smile drops altogether.
“No.”
“Ugh!” Jungkook throws his head back on the sofas armrest, “Why are you like this?”
“You still love me.” You chirp swinging his legs off yours and standing to your feet.
“Now get dressed and I promise that I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend and you can bring whatever poor girl back to the apartment.”
Oh yes, your best friend is also your roommate. You’ve been living together for the last year—it just made the most sense. He was always over at yours or vise versa. So it made the most sense to save money and just room together. It worked out almost perfectly—almost. He paid his half of rent on time, he cleaned the dishes, he did laundry. Wait a minute, what the hell did you offer? That’s beside the point, the best of all he was always there when you needed him. The one downfall…the girls he brought over.
It got so bad that you couldn’t even sleep. You get it, your best friend is obviously…gifted. If the girls whines and moans and screams were any indication. So you had to set some rules for your sanity! For one, the other must always warn the other when bring home a person for the night. And two, its best if the other is already like, not home. Jungkook quickly agreed…something about how he doesn’t want to hear you either.
So, offering to be gone all weekend so he can have as much sex in his bed as he wants is probably going to be convincing enough.
You study Jungkook’s features, his brows pinched together almost comically, and his lips formed into the cutest pout.
“All weekend?” he asks, kicking imaginary rocks with his feet. “Like, no interruptions?”
“No interruptions you absolute whore.”
“Fine, deal.” He looks into your eyes and something flashes across them that you cant pinpoint. “I guess I’ll get dressed…but wait, where will you stay?”
“Probably with Jimin.” You shrug.
“Hm, okay.” Jungkook walks towards his room while lifting his sweatshirt over his head and throwing it behind him, the article of clothing landing on the floor. “And you’re doing laundry.”
“Brat.” You say rolling your eyes but you can’t help but smile.
You don’t take long to get ready yourself, you settle for a casual look tonight…okay, semi-casual, meaning you’re wearing jeans but you are wearing a nice, low cut blouse that shows a generous amount of cleavage. It’s your go to titty shirt. You aren’t really looking to get laid tonight or anything but you do want onlookers to wish you were.
You bounce your knee up and down while sitting on the sofa as you not so patiently wait on your bff, you call out for him but he only yells back that you need to like, chill out. After what feels like forever, the creak of his bedroom door opening can be heard and you quickly stand to your feet to face him.
“Woah.” Is all you manage to say as Jungkook walks out of his room, his cologne filling the air around you. “You look…” you can’t even finish your sentence without Jungkook’s stupid smirk already on his face. His pants are skin tight, the material practically melted on to his thick thighs that are deliciously exposed thanks to rips and holes. His plain white tee is accompanied by a fine leather jacket and his hair is split down the middle, the waves adorning his face. He looks damn good. And you both fucking know it.
“I look?” he teases, walking closer to you. His cologne suffocating your nostrils but you aren’t upset about it.
“You look…fine. You look better than before at least.” You choke out. It’s not that Jungkook is capable of making you nervous but sometimes he has this aura about him…no, you don’t even want to get into it. Those are thoughts you’ve trained yourself to push away.
“Whatever.” His eyes skim over your body shamelessly, “You look fine too.” He winks, walking past you.
“Ready to go?” he calls out over his shoulder. You can’t help but watch his tight ass walk away. Did you really say tight ass? Well it is!
“Yeah, lemme grab my purse and uh, uh we can go. You’re driving.”
~~~
“About fucking time, sluts.”
“Hello to you too, Jiminie.” You crack a smile as your friend goes in for a quick but tight hug.
When Jungkook finally introduced you to all his friends the one you hit it off with the most was good ol’ Jimin. He immediately became one of your closest friends.
“Yo Park.” Jungkook’s eyes are all around the place, not even sparing Jimin a glance. No doubt looking for his girl for the night already. What? It’s a safe assumption.
“Jeon.” Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “You guys took forever, too busy fucking?”
You hit Jimin’s shoulder with your own, giving him a look that says you’ll scold him later.
“She wishes.” Jungkook finally puts his attention on the two of you, a wide smile growing on his face.
“Shut up.”
“What? It’s true! Oh my god Jimin, you should of seen her face when she saw me walk out in this fit.” Jungkook stands tall, hands grabbing onto the material of his leather jacket,
“She was like “oh my god Jungkook you look so go—” You go to hit his stomach with your fist but thanks to his rock hard abs you only end up hurting yourself. “Fuck! Ow! What’s under your shirt?” you yell over the music.
“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He says with a wink.
The words ring a bell of familiarity in your head, each syllable echoing softly. A small smile forms on your lips and Jungkook gives you the softest smile in return. Did he just say the same line he used on you 3 years ago when you two met?
3 years ago
The music is booming so loudly you can’t even hear yourself think. This isn’t your first frat party and probably won’t be your last but you just can’t get use to it. You let your dormmate drag you to this stupid party only for her to ditch you in the first 10 minutes. Great.
You weave through the crowd trying to locate the kitchen to get your hands on the strongest drink you can find, lord knows you need it.
The kitchen is just as crowded as the rest of the house unfortunately. So many bodies. Bodies doing shots. Bodies doing shots off other bodies. Bodies playing games. Bodies grinding against other bodies. So many fucking bodies. It is honestly overwhelming. You walk towards the punch bowl, reaching for a red solo cup when another hand bumps into yours.
“Whoops sorry, go ahead.” The hand is attached to this boy—or man? Should you say man? He sure looks like one. He eyes you up and down before smiling down at you.
“Freshmen?” he asks.
You slump your shoulders, “Do I really look that outta place?” you pout.
“It’s not that…I just have a way of knowing.” He laughs. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”
Namjoon, huh? He is cute that was for sure. “Y/N.” you say placing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Pretty!” he smiles, then his eyes look behind you. “Ay! Jungkook! What did I say?! No more Keg stands!!!!” Then Namjoon’s eyes are back on you, “Sorry Y/N gotta go, gotta take care of this brat.” Then walks past you to this mysterious Jungkook person.
Your eyes follow Namjoon as he rushes to whoever this Jungkook guy is. Namjoon pulls him to the side obviously scolding him for apparently doing too many keg stands. Jungkook looks like a small child who is about to get grounded, and you can’t help but giggle. Unfortunately, this caught Jungkook’s attention. He looks straight at you, his eyes narrowing. Wait a minute. You recognize him! He definitely looks like the same guy from your Lit class on Tuesday and Thursdays. Yup, you get one long good look at him and he is definitely the same heartthrob of a dude from your class. All the girls go crazy for this guy, you mean, you guess you get it. He is really hot. He’s got on a black t shirt and some ripped jeans, and tousled hair.
Jungkook looks at you again with furrowed brows then smirks. Fuck, you were staring. And got caught. You see Jungkook pat Namjoon on the shoulder a few times then walk past him, much to Namjoon’s annoyance.
And he’s walking towards….you. FUCK. In a total panic, you twirl around to face the wall, yes the fucking wall when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“’Scuse me?” a voice says from behind you. You’re not going to play dumb, you know who the voice probably belongs to. You stay facing the wall, like a fucking weirdo.
“Wanna turn around?” his voice is light and teasing and you can’t help the long release of breath before turning to face him. Wow. Up close he’s even more handsome….
“Hi?” you sputter out, completely unaware of how lame and shy you sound.
“Hey, like what you see?” he nods his head in the direction he just came from, clearly amused.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Apparently playing dumb is how you decide to go about this. You stare at him with a blank expression, swaying from side to side. Lucky for you it’s in beat with the music so you look kind of cool. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“I mean, you kept staring at me so.”
“No, its…it’s not like that”
“Then, what’s it like?”
“I just…I thought I recognized you so…” you wipe your sweaty hands on your black denim skirt. “That’s all.” You finish, still looking at him like you haven’t done anything weird tonight.
“Anderson’s Lit class right?” he asks with a pointed look. “I recognized you too.” His smirk does things to your lower half but you shouldn’t be admitting that right now.
“Oh?” is all you manage to say.
Jungkook studies you for a few moments, his gaze so dark and intimidating and you feel so flushed with his eyes on you. Then he groans with fingers rushing through his messy hair,
“Do you understand this week’s assignment?”
He…he wants to talk about school?
“Yes, I do. Because this assignment is wack as fuck.”
OH. You must of asked that out loud.
“Yes, you did.”
Oh, that too.
“Umm, yeah. What aren’t you understanding?” you finally say something relevant.
“It’s just more like, I think it’s a stupid assignment.” He chuckles, “Oh, you got something—” he reaches his hand forward to your hair, his fingers brushing through your long strands, pulling back with a piece of string. “Got it.” He says with a sly smile.
HOW CHEESY!!!! But like, it still made the heartbeat in your vagina go boom boom.
“Ya know…” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours as he talks. You actually don’t even know what he is talking about but his lips move so quickly you try to follow them. Your eyes on his lips the whole time, you don’t even realize it.
“…and that’s why I think it’s stupid.” He finally finishes with an obnoxious laugh. “Hey—hey are you even listening?” he says, his lips in a pout. You would know because they are all you’ve been staring at.
“Huh?” you blink lazily up at him, “Oh. Yeah. I totally agree.”
Jungkook stares at you seriously for a second before breaking out into a cackle, yes a cackle like he’s some hysterical witch. Which sounds really unattractive but honestly you’re digging it.
“It’s okay, you weren’t listening. I guess I’m not that interesting, huh?”
“No no! You are!” You’re quick to say, your hands waving frantically in front of you.
“Oh? So you do find me interesting?” he smirks, folding his arms across his chest.
You scoff at his words, appreciating his moves on you with a sly smile.
“Are you always this smooth?” you ask, a light teasing tone laced in your voice.
“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He teases back.
Feeling so at home lost in your memories with Jungkook, you finally break free from the flashback. For some reason that’s a flashback you don’t mind reliving.
“Smooth.” You grin at Jungkook, you can’t help the blush that paints itself on your cheeks.
“For you? Always.” He grins back. You two just stare at one another, basking in the memories of your friendship.
“Okay, enough.” Jimin cuts in, his hands on both yours and Jungkook’s shoulders, “Either actually get a room and finally fuck or get on with your nights.”
You and Jungkook exchange awkward glances before turning towards the living room to join the party. Jimin is left at the houses entrance by the front door, totally dumbfounded. “these two idiots…” he scoffs under his breath, his eyes rolling so far back into his head.
Hours pass and you know what? The party isn’t as lame as you thought it might be. You are lost in the music on the living rooms dance floor with a red solo cup in one hand and your phone in the other.
“y/n!” you hear the call of one of your closest girlfriends.
“Trina!!!” you stumble towards her with a lopsided grin, you reach for her bringing her in for a long hug.
“Woah, someone’s drunk.” She laughs her loud laugh that you love so much. “And damn, the titty shirt is out tonight? Nice.”
“Not drunk” you giggle, and then continue to giggle again for no apparent reason.
“Right…” Trina slaps your back enthusiastically, “Where’s…” she then lowers her voice with a smirk, “lover boy?”
“who? Jungkook?” you ask with the tilt of your head.
Trina’s head pushes back with a confused expression, “What? No! I’m talking about…” she lowers her voice again, “Taehyung!”
OH. Right. You had texted Trina as soon as the whole ordeal with Taehyung unraveled. She knows of your long time crush and totally supports the idea of fake dating because as she puts it:
“Girl! This is your chance! Show him what a great girlfriend you would be, he would totally fall in love with you for real for real.”
And you have to say, you like where her head is at. Complete opposite of what Jungkook is always saying.
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t see him around.” You sway side to side, your lit up phone catching your attention.
Jungkook 1:22am
Don’t come home tonight ;)
You can’t help but roll your eyes. How is he so quick?
Y/N 1:23am
Alreadyasydy tslked 2 Jiminie, staying w hum toniteeee.
Jungkook 1:24am
y/n…you’re not too drunk right?
Jungkook 1:27am
y/n????
You are back to shaking your ass with Trina by your side, the bass of the music thumping so loudly you can feel it vibrate your whole body. Body after body pushes into you, causing you to stumble every few seconds. But your grip on your refilled solo cup doesn’t loosen, not as you chug back your drink.
“Gonna grab another!” you slur, nodding your head towards the kitchen. Trina only gives you a thumbs up as she continues to dance with some random girl.
The walk to the kitchen feels like it’s taking forever, the way the walls swirl around you makes you feel sick. You stagger through the kitchens walk way when you feel two arms wrap around your middle.
“My girlfriend!” You hear the slur of words in your right ear, loud and clear.
You turn in the man’s hold with squinted eyes,
“Oh hi Tae.” You giggle, encasing him in a hug. Drunk y/n is way more confident. For some reason seeing him like this you don’t feel as nervous or awkward. Then you feel it. The weird, uncomfortable pang in your chest. Why is that? You look up at Taehyung when the sensation of guilt begins to surface. You remind yourself of the mission you’re on, completely ignoring the inner truth that tries to bubble over and smile at him.
Taehyung looks down at you with a goofy grin, his fingers digging into your waist to keep you steady.
“Oh, you’re drunk drunk.” He teases.
“Am not!” you shake away your confusing thoughts and giggle some more. “wanna take a shot with me?” you excitedly ask him, nodding in the direction of the liquor bottles.
“Hell yeah girl!” he says, taking your hand and leading you towards the counter.
“Y/N are you okay????” Taehyung voice is laced in concern as he holds you. Yes, the Kim Taehyung is holding you. “Shit, I shouldn’t have let you drink this much….” But like in a totally pathetic way.
“You…” you lean back, hitting his chest with your pointer finger, “Don’t tell me how much I can or can’t drink!” your voice buzzes as you fall forward but Taehyung catches you again.
“Right right…” he chuckles but then he looks concerned again. “We need to get you home…let’s call Jungkook.”
“No! we caaaannnnoottt do that…” your words are all jumbled together, Taehyung has a hard time understanding you.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Back pocket.” You wink. Like a fucking sleaze.
Taehyung looks conflicted, but in the end he reaches around for your phone and turns it on.
“Holy shit y/n… you have 8 missed calls from Jungkook. And whole lotta texts.”
Jungkook 1:30am
Are you okay??
Jungkook 1:40am
y/n…Youre a big girl so ill just assume youre okay.
Jungkook 3:02am
Just talked to jimin and you aren’t with him?? where are u??
Jungkook 3:18am
Answer your fukin phone
Jungkook 3:23am
Are you still at the party?
Jungkook 3:41am
You aren’t with Trina either? y/n where are you?
Jungkook 4:00am
Don’t make me go back there….pls just answer your phone so I know if youre like, idk fucking alive
Jungkook 4:10am
Fine im going to look for you
“Fuck.” Taehyung hisses under his breath. “I gotta call him…I’m gonna call him okay?”
Your eyes go comically wide at Taehyungs words.
“No!”
“too late” he says, the phone to his hear.
“Hey man, no its me…Taehyung, yeah…yeah….she….” Taehyung eyes you carefully as he speaks on the phone, “She’s fine. She just has had maybe too much to dri—” Taehyung drags a hand down his tired face, “No for fucks sake I didn’t do anything to her. Really dude?”
You lean into Taehyungs space, trying to put your ear to the phone as well and Taehyung can’t help but laugh.
“I read all your texts to be honest…if you have a girl over…what? No, I’m saying y/n can just stay with me…”
Stay with Taehyung? That should make your heart race but—
You think all the alcohol is catching up to you at once and the world becomes even more blurred and a spinning mess. You would give anything to be cuddled up in your blankets with Jungkook taking care of you—wait, no. You don’t need Jungkook to take care of you. You have a perfectly good Taehyung who just offered his place to you.
“I swear man, I’ll take care of h—” Taehyung rolls his eyes, “she might be too drunk to talk….okay, I’ll ask her.” Taehyung lowers the phone and faces you.
“y/n.”
“Hm?” you blink lazily, swaying into Taehyungs chest. Oh no. You feel it, you feel the nausea building up in your tummy, making its way up your chest. On a scale of 1 to 10 how dead would you die if you threw up on Taehyung?
“Do you want Jungkook to come pick you up?”
Jungkook? Like, your Jungkook? Unfortunately for you, your eyes gloss over and probably also unfortunate for Taehyung as well as he looks at you with an alarmed expression . You feel sick. You want to go home. You want to sit on your bathroom floor and throw up in the toilet with Jungkook sitting next to you while he hums a soft tune to soothe you.
“Y-Yes.” You murmur shyly, you begin to sniffle and Taehyung begins to panic.
“Okay man yeah come pick her up.”
“want Jungkook…” you say as a few tears spill over. You are trying your hardest to keep the puke down but its threatening to exit your poor drunk body.
“I think she’s gonna be sick so please hurry…” Taehyung rushes to say over the phone before hanging up.
The next few minutes are a blur, you know Taehyung rushes you to the bathroom. He is overly sweet the whole time you see nothing but blurred, spinning images. He holds your hair back as your body threatens to release tonight’s dinner and says comforting words but nothing makes you feel better. The puke won’t make its guest appearance and your whole world is spinning at a inhumane pace. You’re about to give up on life and fall to the bathroom floor of this gross frat house and try to sleep when you hear him.
“Lemme in dude.” It’s Jungkook. You stir from your sleepy state and turn your head towards the door. He barges in, his eyes landing on you and they soften. He immediately falls to the floor to caress the back of your head and you immediately begin to sob. The tears are out of your control as they slide down your cheeks.
“Don’t...don’t...feel good.” You say between wails, gripping desperately onto his shirt.
“I know baby, I know.” He pulls you into his chest, his hand soothingly running up and down your back. “Has she thrown up yet?” Jungkook looks up at Taehyung with expectant eyes. Taehyung is so caught off guard while watching the two of you.
“uh, no.”
“Okay, can you leave us alone for a while?” Jungkook says somewhat harshly then his features soften as he whispers “She will probably be embarrassed later if you saw…”
“Right.” Taehyung says, his worried expression not going unnoticed by Jungkook. Then Taehyung is on his way out, but he turns one last time to get a look at you.
“feel better y/n” then he is out the door, shutting it behind him.
“Okay y/n…remember what you gotta do?”
“finger?” you slur.
“Yup. Put your finger…yes like that,” he says as you begin to push your finger down your throat to get yourself to throw up.
“I promise you’ll feel better.”
You begin gagging on your finger as you finally throw up in the toilet, Jungkook rubbing your back the entire time giving you words of encouragement.
“Good girl, good girl.” He whispers.
Your face is a fucking mess. Your makeup smeared beyond belief. The black streaks from your tears marking your cheeks in the most horrific way. Jungkook watches you as you cry into his lap on the floor, his heart breaking at the sight. He hated when you drank too much and got like this. He should of never left you alone tonight.
“Jungkook?” you choke out, your tears still spilling from your dark eyes.
“Hm?” he responds, his fingers brushing back your hair.
“Did I ruin your night? Or did you still get some?” you chuckle pathetically.
“Don’t worry about that.” He brushes more hair out of your face, he lifts your head up and places it on a towel. He stands to his feet at the sink, reaching for a towelette and running it under warm water.
“Gonna clean your face okay?” he warns softly.
“kay…” you close your eyes when you feel the wet warmth of the towelette on your cheek. Jungkook is careful to clean you delicately, wiping away the makeup and leaving you spotless.
He’s back under you, your head in his lap and his hands back in your hair.
“you told me you were going to be with Jimin tonight yet you were with Taehyung…”
“It just happened like that” you whisper, sleep beginning to take over.
“I was…really worried about you when I didn’t hear from you, stupid.”
You smile at his words, his touch making you melt.
“Ya know, you’re not the only one allowed to get some Jungkook. I can be like you and have sex too if I want.”
“What are you talking about?” his hand stops in your hair.
“Would if I was getting some? That’s why I didn’t answer?”
“Were you?” his voice is low.
“Well, no—”
“Okay good.”
“Why is that good? Hm?” you open your eyes just a little bit, taking in the hazy world. “Wish it was you I was getting it on with?” you say quietly.
“You’re drunk.”
“I wanna go home.”
“take a nap first, okay?” his fingers begin playing in your hair again, “I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes.”
Your eyes are already closed when he says this, sleep already welcoming you in its warm embrace. “Kay” you murmur.
Jungkook plays with your hair as you snooze in his lap, he watches the rise and fall of your chest and wonders what it would be like to lay his head on it and sleep too.
Bbrrrr bbbrrrrr bbrrrr brrrrrr
A phone call. The most horrifying buzzing occurs next to your face as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Wait, how did you get home last night? You remember drinking and dancing the night away, you remember hanging out with Taehyung…oh no, you remember Jungkook coming to the rescue. Oh no...
You try to open your eyes, but the light from the sun is too damn blinding. You squint at what is in view. Right in front of you, you see black locks of hair poking out of the blanket, a dark blue blanket. You recognize this blanket. Jungkook’s blanket. You are in Jungkook’s bed. With Jungkook. This isn’t so surprising, you imagine you had refused to sleep in your own bed last night—
Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr brrrr brrrrr
Right. Your phone.
You fumble the phone trying to pick it up and answer it when Jungkook groans next to you,
“Hurry up and answer it” he says, sliding deeper under the covers.
“Hello?” you croak out, your voice hoarse and honestly? Disgusting.
“Hey y/n!” This voice is way too damn chipper for whatever ungodly hour it is.
“Tae?”
“Good afternoon sleepy head! Did I wake you?” Afternoon? What time is it? You pull the phone away from your face to check the time.
2:06pm
Holy shit, you’ve slept the day away.
“No no,” you lie, “Just in bed…” you say sitting up from where you lay.
“Great! Do you think maybe I could…come over? We can discuss the whole fake dating thing.” He chuckles into the phone. COME OVER? Immediately you begin smoothing down your hair with your free hand and start to peel back the covers to get out of bed.
“Umm, when?” you glance over at sleeping Jungkook, his face mostly hidden behind the blanket.
“Maybe around 6? I could cook you dinner? I know you had a rough night…”
Fucking great. You don’t want to think of last night, you will die of fucking embarrassment.
“yeah…listen, you don’t have to do all that—”
“I want to!” Taehyung is quick to cut you off, “As your boyfriend—fake boyfriend it is my duty to take care of you!” you feel like you can see the boxy smile on his face. It makes you motherfucking swoon.
“Okay then, 6.” You smile into the phone. “Bye tae.”
You bring the phone down into your lap, clicking the end button. Dinner with Taehyung? Like a date? You can’t help but feel internally giddy at the thought. You squeal for a second before Jungkook speaks up.
“What’s at 6?” he peeks from under the covers, his voice husky and groggy.
“Oh… nothing” you sing, a bright smile on your face.
“Something with Tae?” he begins to sit himself up as well.
“We’re just going to have dinner and talk about the whole fake dating thing.” You beam.
“You’re still doing that shit?”
Automatically you go from super excited to annoyed. Only Jungkook can do that to you.
“It’s harmless, Jungkook. Plus…”
“plus what?” he raises a single brow.
“Trina says this is a good opportunity…”
“y/n I have told you not to get too involved with this guy, but you don’t listen to me.” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, then bows his head down in defeat.
“But whatever, learn your fucking lessons by yourself.”
You can’t help but feel like Jungkook is once again looking down at you, like you aren’t good enough for Taehyung. Your breaths become unsteady as you just stare at your best friend like he isn’t constantly hurting your feelings on the matter.
“I—I will be fine. I want him, Jungkook. And this is—this is a good opportunity to show him I can be a good enough girlfriend ya know—”
“Just stop.” Jungkook cuts you off in a harsh tone. “I never said you weren’t good enough? You’re just not what he wants.” Jungkook can see how his words break you further. “Fuck. Forget I said that, y/n…”
“Why can’t he want me?”
Jungkook hates just how quietly you ask that…he hates how defeated you sound, how defeated you look…your head hanging low with no attempt to even look at him.
“He’s just…”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t answer that” You stand from the bed and begin walking towards his door. You look down to see you’re wearing nothing but Jungkook’s t shirt and some panties, you groan at your own shamelessness when you hear the rushed ruffling of the comforter behind you and the plop of feet landing on the ground. Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.
“Just move on y/n…”
I’m fucking trying to, is what you want to say but instead you opt for a harsh ‘leave me alone’ as you exit his room.
You spend the next couple of hours pampering yourself, you had a rough night and you totally deserve a piece of cake, this bubble bath and face mask. You want to feel relaxed but you can’t get the image of Jungkook out of your head. You hate it when the two of you fight. You mean, to others this would hardly come off as a ‘fight’ but you and Jungkook never really have negative energy. So, yes. It’s a fight. He’s the last person in the world you want to fight with. Yet here you are.
But then the image of Taehyung cooking you dinner enters your mind and somehow you feel a little more at ease. Was this a date? You giggle to yourself, blowing bubbles that reaches your lips as you sink deeper into the tub. You have an hour before Taehyung was to arrive at your apartment…your shared apartment. God, you hope Jungkook takes a hint and goes and hangs out with Jimin or something.
You finally rise from the tub and dry off your now freshly cleansed body. The scent of lavender fills the air and you feel satisfied with how your bath turned out.
You read the clock…5:30pm and you know it’s time to get dressed.
You settle for some high waisted shorts and a white tank top with a purple bralette where the straps are generously shown. Looking into the mirror, you decide to do light makeup and tinted lip balm. You don’t want to try too hard for the boy you’re trying to woo.
And bam. 6pm right on the dot you hear the door being lightly knocked. You begin walking towards the front door but stop to see if Jungkook is in his room or not. He’s not. Relief washes over you as you continue to walk towards the front door. But where did he go? You’re relieved he isn’t home but feel anxious that you don’t know where he could have gone. Maybe to Jimin’s? Maybe to some random girls? Somehow this makes you feel more anxious. You shake away those thoughts and swing the front door open.
“Hey there.” Taehyungs boxy grin is enough to get you pregnant. Like, god damn. He looks amazing. He’s got dress pants and some floral shirt and his hair looks slightly wet. That’s not the only thing slightly wet. You internally cringe at your thought.
“Hey Tae, come on in.” you open the door wider to let the boy through. He walks past you and makes himself comfortable in the kitchen, setting down a bag of what you assume is probably groceries.
“You like spaghetti?” he asks excitedly, almost like a child.
“Who doesn’t?” you smirk walking his way and sitting down at the breakfast table. “Need any help?” you offer.
“Not at all.” Taehyung begins unpacking his things and gets to work in the kitchen. You watch in awe, your head nuzzled in your hands as he does his thing.
“Dinner was amazing Tae.” You go to compliment the chef. It really was. The noodles were long and soft and the sauce was very flavorful. Did you really just compliment the length and softness of fucking noodles? Wow, you are whipped. You almost wish Taehyung was your roommate and not useless in the kitchen Jungkook. Oh. Jungkook. The thought of him enters your mind and it has you hurting. You may be having a blast with your crush but you and your best friend are still in the middle of a fight. About said crush. But this really is your chance. You can get Taehyung to like you, maybe even fall for you. And you need this. You need this. So you can’t give up, no matter what Jungkook says.
“Not as amazing as you” Taehyung winks but then his face drops, “Sorry that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” he drags a hand down his handsome face. “I suck at flirting.”
You look up at him, completely intrigued.
“You’re trying to flirt with me?” you can’t help but to smile slyly.
“Of course I am!” Taehyung laughs loudly then reaches for his backpack in the chair next to his and pulls out a notebook.
“So I wrote some ideas for this whole fake dating thing.” He becomes just a tad more serious as a nervous grin lights up his face.
“Oh really? Should I have a look?” you say reaching for the notebook with grabby hands, “Gimme!”
Taehyung chuckles while pulling the notebook to his chest, “No! Miss Greedy.” He teases. “How about I just read them and we can discuss?”
“fine.” You pout, “Whatever you say.”
“Whatever I say? I like the sound of that.” He smirks then his eyes fall to the paper in front of him. “First, we should go on dates…like all the time. The more time we spend together the more believable it’ll be. Ya know?”
“Okay, makes sense. Makes sense.”
“Second, we should attend all parties together and leave together too.” Then his eyes go wide, “I just mean—like don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get you home.”
You can’t help but giggle, nodding your head to his words.
“Third, we should post each other on social media! For example, I can take a picture of tonight’s date and post it on the gram.”
“Tonight was a date?” you ask, a delighted smile making its way on your face.
“Well, yeah…” he answers shyly.
“anything else?” you question, leaning your head in your hands as you look into his big brown eyes.
“Well….. there is one more thing I wrote down….” He answers awkwardly. His eyes sliding to the side to avert your gaze.
“oh? What is it?” you try to take a peek at the paper, curiosity getting the best of you—as usual.
“I’ll just let you read it…” he then pushes the notebook on the table in your direction, you excitedly pick it up and skim the paper. You look at all the things he wrote down, smiling because he even added his own tips.
Buy her flowers.
Movie dates?
Netflix and chill
Cook her dinner
How cute. He even added little doodles. Your eyes continue to skim the page as your smile grows at how much thought he has put into this. Your heart is beating out of your chest…you know this is all fake and for show but you cannot help how happy its making you feel. You continue to smile and hum as your eyes skim lower and lower until you see the last thing on his list.
No Jungkook.
Huh? Your smile begins to falter. No Jungkook? What does that even mean? You look up to meet Taehyungs eyes. He’s already anxiously staring at you.
“I don’t understand?” you breathe out, “What does that mean?”
“No Jungkook.” He half whispers.
“You—you realize he is my best friend? Why no Jungkook?” you pinch your brows together in confusion.
“It’s just…” Taehyung begins to explain himself, “You two are awfully close. And people already get the wrong idea about you two. Like, all the fucking time. Even I think sometimes…that’s not important. It just means for one month, you’re mine. And I don’t want people to get the wrong idea if you’re always with Jungkook.” He pulls at the hair at his neck. “Is this making sense?” Taehyung looks flustered trying to get out all of his words.
“It would make me look pathetic don’t you think? That my supposed girlfriend is always with some other guy? I mean, y/n it’s just for one month…”
One month without Jungkook? Would you really choose a boy over your best friend? Even if only for a month?
“Tae… I don’t know.” You look down at your hands as your breathing begins to pick up.
“I can’t just abandon my best friend for an entire month…”
“I mean, you guys live together so it’s not like you won’t be seeing him. Just in public…ya know?”
Taehyung has a point, you try to reason. If you have a boyfriend it’s only natural to spend most of your time with them. But it still felt wrong. But… a part of you feels like this is a good idea, actually. You’ve always been meaning to put at least some distance between you and Jungkook, ya know, for your own sake. But this feels wrong. You’re about to decline his request when you hear the front door open and Jungkook’s shuffles in. He has his airpods in and doesn’t even spare you a glance. He walks straight to his bedroom and slams the door shut.
You feel embarrassed in front of your guest that your roommate and also yeah, your best fucking friend didn’t even acknowledge you.
“Uh, he’s in a mood” you try covering for Jungkook. Then you feel the buzz of your phone and you go to check it
Jungkook 8:02pm
Watching you fawn over him is just pathetic, but like, good luck.
All you see is red. Jungkook once again shitting on your love life and raining on your god damn parade. You know what? This is your chance with Taehyung and you aren’t going to let your bratty best friend ruin that for you.
“You know what, Tae?” you say setting your phone on the table.
“Yeah?”
“You’re right. I agree with your list.”
“Wait—you do? Even the Jung—”
“Yup.”
Taehyung tilts his head to the side as a wide grin makes its way across his face, “should we shake on it?” he asks with his hand pushed out in front of you.
You take his hand in yours, squeezing tightly before you pull him in and seal the deal with a quick kiss. Taehyung’s shocked expression makes you giggle, “Thought that would make it more official”
“I like having you as a girlfriend already.”
One month without Jungkook? Bring it on.
2K notes · View notes
writersmilex · 2 years
Text
Helping Hand
2Bdamned X Reader.
Summary : (Y/n) does more than help Doc with his work, they help him get healthier too.
I’m really proud of this one! 
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(art by :  BATAsii8989 on Twitter)
Up to the chin stuck in all this work, it feels like he's doing it all by himself!
He wants to do it by himself, for then he has control over everything that happens and nothing can get out of hand. But it has gotten out of hand now. His head on his desk, trying to soothe his pounding headache. It really is too much this time, and he can't drop these tasks he accepted to do.
While squinting his eyes closed, he can only hear the door to his office space open and someone walk in. The footsteps are too soft to belong to either Hank or Sanford, too slow to match Deimos' Then who is it? "ugh, what is it now?" Doc grumbles, finally raising his head to look at whoever entered the room. It's you, standing there with a steaming cup of some hot beverage. There is a sincere look on their face as they approach him slowly. "You look like you could use this." you chuckle lightly, placing the hot beverage; which appears to be coffee before him.
Doc lets out a deep sigh, "thanks..." He gingerly takes the cup, lowering his face coverage to take a drink. You glance over at all the work that 2Bdamned had accepted to do. It really is a lot. While 2Bdamned is refuelling. You grab one of the task reports and take a look at it. Examining the report, it looks easy enough, something in your skill range. "Do you want me to help you?" They ask, already half expecting his answer already. Doc finishes his drink and readjusts his mask. "What is there you can do to help me?" He asks, looking up from his hunched-over position.
"well... I can do this?" You raise the report that you're holding, "It's a simple spying mission, I can do this one for you." You smile brightly. Doc ponders, scratching his right arm while thinking hard. Should he let you take this mission and help him. "uh... Don't you have your own mission to worry about?" He questions, leaning back to sit back straight. Feels better for his back. You shake your head, "No... I could totally do this Doc. I'll give you all the credit too!" you just keep pushing to let you take this task.
Doc sighs through his nose, looking up at you from his hunched-over position. Scanning the task, it looks like something that your skill-set is matching. You are more specialized in stealth than the others he's close to. A spying mission sounds like your type of gig.
"alright, (Y/n). You may take this one..." He wishes he could rub his eyes now, but unfortunately he still has his goggles on. Your smile widens, then you lunge at him, wrapping their arms around his neck and trapping him in a hug. Catching 2Bdamned off guard for a second. "Thanks, Doc. I won't let you down!" You laugh and pull away from the man. Without saying anything, (Y/n) dashes off. Most likely to prepare for their new mission.
At least there is one task taken care of, 2Bdamned is gonna take a 2-hour nap before resuming with his work.
~~~~
After the grand success of your latest mission, you keep requesting to take over some of Doc's work. It has been a great help to him, although he wouldn't admit that upfront. He gives you the easy jobs, so he can worry about the tougher ones.
But it wasn't only gigs that you help with. No...
"Doc, I think it's about time you get some rest. And no, you've had enough coffee for tonight," you say, looking down at the several empty coffee mugs all collected in a pile of empty dishes. You look over at 2B; who can barely keep himself up. He needs to rest now. "I'm fine..." He slurs, it's a useless excuse and he knows it and you don't buy it one bit.
"I can see right through your excuses Doc. C'mon get up." You walk over, grabbing him from under his arms to lift him out of his chair. Then you manoeuvre one of his arms over your shoulders and take him to his quarters, which is a room away from his office space.
Then you help Doc lay in bed. "I want you to sleep and rest now. Full energy equals full productivity." They raise a good point as they attempt to tuck him in a little bit. At the point that You are about to take off his face coverage to make sleeping a bit more comfortable for him, but 2Bdamned stops you by snatching you by the wrist. "sorry, sorry... Should've asked." You apologize meekly and pull your hand away from his grip. Doc grumbles something, then squirms to get more comfortable. Sleep already taking over his consciousness. "good night, Doc." You whisper and get up to leave the room, leaving 2Bdamned by himself. And it doesn't take long for the well-needed slumber to overcome him.
~~~~
And then, the workload was suddenly a whole lot lighter. His mood was a bit better and he didn't feel as tired as usual. Without your... help. He would have had a work burn-out for certain. Speaking of,  It's the usual time for you to arrive at his office space. The door slides open, revealing the person he's been waiting for. Holding now two mugs of coffee, one for yourself.
"ah... Job well done!" You cheer, walking over to hand 2Bdamned his drink. Him mumbling a quick "thank you" You take a quick sip of their drink, still a little too hot for their liking and burning the very tip of your tongue. You grimace and lower the mug down, turning to the man beside them. "So? What's next?" asks, referring to the work and missions. 2Bdamned shrugs in response, "The pile is shrinking, and there is rarely any new tasks adding onto it actually." Doc explains, gesturing to the stack of reports that were once so high.   "Damn." You mumble, looking around the room for any sign of another stock of tasks elsewhere
2Bdamned feels a little guilty. He knows that you have done your very best to help him with his tasks and help you did indeed. He pushes himself away from his desk to look at you. "You have done well (Y/n)..."
"hmm?" you hum in surprise, having finished your hot beverage by now. 2Bdamned rubs the back of his neck nervously, "You helping me... I mean." He says. Why is this so difficult? "Thank you, I appreciate your help," Doc mutters out. Still loud enough for you to hear. You smile brightly a light blush present on your face, "Any time Doc. You're very welcome!" you laugh. And 2Bdamned can feel his face feeling warmer underneath his mask. You put your mug down and once again, move over to Doc and hug him around his neck just like you have done before. And he this time, returning the embrace. Gently patting you on the back a few times.
You pull away and let out a huge yawn. Exhaustion from lack of sleep and all this work catching up with you. Doc chuckles as he watches you tiredly rub your eye to try and get the sleep out. "I think it's time for you to get some rest." He says with a playful tone. He's finally got a comeback for all those times that you have told him the same thing. You can't help but laugh as well, "Ahaha, Yeah... you're right." You giggle, dust off your clothes and get ready to leave the room and go to bed.
"Rest well (Y/n)!" Doc calls after you as you leave the room. You wave in response, "You too!" This is the last thing you say before leaving.
And now that you're off the bed, Doc feels like it's time to also get to sleep himself.
_____________________________________ There we go! Wasn't that cute??
Thanks for reading - Smilex
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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years
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42 Hours
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Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time
Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content
Pairing: Harry Styles x reader
Word Count: 20k 
A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys.  I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite​ (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3
{masterlist}
also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!
When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law.  Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her.  The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time.  She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.
“Always look both ways before crossing the street.  Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”
“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”
“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”
All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl.  Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years.  To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning.  And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume.  However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.
Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.
“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law.  Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.  When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”
Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things.  The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.
It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.
“When you get married, Y/N…anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Y/N pushes the echoing words of her grandmother out of her head. “I’m sorry, just—” She gives a pained smile to the lady working the check in. “Can you explain that to me again, please?”
The lady also takes a deep breath, the smile on her ruby tinted lips just as pained as Y/N’s. “There’s a storm system moving through Utah and Colorado.  These systems have the potential to become tornadoes, and because of that, the conditions for flying are too dangerous right now, so all flights through that area are grounded until further notice.”
“So my flight is cancelled?” Y/N holds up the ticket in her hand that’s stamped with LAX – JFK. “This flight, this flight to New York, which is nowhere near Utah—that’s cancelled?”
The check-in lady, whose name tag reads Brynn, gives another tight smile. “Yes, ma’am.  It’s cancelled.”
“Okay, no, I’m sorry, Brynn, but that doesn’t work for me.” Y/N shakes her head fiercely as the manic rush of emotions through her begins to set in.  The denial, she finds, keeps the oncoming panic at bay, and so she decides to focus on that to ground herself. “My best friend is getting married in the Catskills in one week.” Y/N holds up one finger, as if her words are hard for Brynn to understand. “That’s one week from today.  I’m the maid of honour.  I have to be there to help organize, keep her calm, and make sure she actually makes it down the aisle, because—between you and me—she’s got some commitment issues—” The more Y/N speaks, the more her panic begins to spill out in her words, like a dam with a leak that’s about to burst. “And she forgot the goddamn wedding rings, so I have those too, and I just—I really need to get to New York, like, now. Right now.”
Y/N finally pauses to take a sharp breath, and Brynn, who had been waiting for her to finish, speaks again, her voice flatter than before.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am, but as I said, all flights are grounded right now.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Y/N takes another deep breath.  Roll with the punches, her grandmother had told her.  What else is there to do? “Okay.” Y/N is careful to keep her voice in check when she speaks again. “Alright.  Do you know when they’ll be ungrounded?”
“As I’ve said,” Brynn’s smile is more of a grimace now, and Y/N knows that she’s treading on thin ice. “All flights are grounded until further notice.  We’re not sure when we’ll be able to open them again.  It could be a day, or it could be five.  If you’d like, I can put you down on a list to be called when flights are available again, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”
“Let’s do that, then.” Y/N relents in a tired voice, already making plans to pick up a coffee on her way back to her apartment.  In the back of her mind, she begins to wonder if she has any Baileys Irish cream liqueur left in her kitchen cabinet—and if 8:30 A.M. is too early to be drinking Baileys with her coffee.
It takes Y/N two cups of coffee with Baileys (it had been 10 A.M. by the time she arrived home, thanks to L.A. traffic, and she had decided that 10 A.M. was a fine time to drink when one’s flight gets cancelled indefinitely) to work up the courage to call Jo and tell her that she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding.
Josephine Waters, or Jo to anyone who doesn’t want to get punched in the arm, has been Y/N’s best friend since the girls were five years old.  They became fast friends on the first day of kindergarten, as Jo liked how Y/N could already colour inside the lines, and Y/N liked how Jo tackled a boy who tugged on Y/N’s pigtails.  From the very beginning, the two were a perfect match for each other; where Y/N was reserved, Jo was wild.  Where Jo was disorganized, Y/N was focused.  Each girl balanced the other in the most natural way, and it’s this fact that Y/N and Jo credit for the two of them staying friends for twenty years. As they grew up together, they grew together, taking the very best traits from the other and using it to help themselves develop.  Y/N had been the first person that Jo came out to, confessing to her best friend during an eighth grade sleepover in a quiet and nervous voice.  To Jo’s pleasure, Y/N had been completely supportive, and returned the favour from the first day of kindergarten by punching a boy in the nose for calling Jo a homophobic slur.  Jo helped Y/N through her parent’s divorce.  Y/N helped Jo manage her ADHD.  Jo talked Y/N through discovering her bisexuality in university. Y/N answered every 3 A.M. phone call to comfort Jo after a panic attack.  In every sense of the word, the two girls had been there for each other.
And now Y/N is going to miss Jo’s wedding.
The harsh realization digs a pit in her stomach as she opens her phone and clicks on Jo’s name.  It’s noon in L.A., which means it’s 3 P.M. in New York time, and Y/N knows Jo will answer.  She always does.
Sure enough, after three short rings, Jo’s voice chirps through the phone. “Hey, Y/N!  Has your flight landed already?”
“No, there’s—there’s been an issue.” Y/N downs another gulp of her coffee, wishing she had added more Baileys when she had the chance, and clears her throat before continuing. “There’s, um, a storm in Utah, and apparently it’s bad, and so all flights from L.A. to New York are grounded until further notice.”
Jo makes a scoffing noise, and Y/N can practically picture the indignant look on her face that she’s seen so many times before. “That’s ridiculous.  Did you tell them that New York is nowhere near Utah?”
“Uh huh.”
“What about that my wedding is in one week?”
“I told them that, too. Brynn didn’t seem to care.”
“Bitch.” Jo mutters under her breath. “Okay, just wait a second, Laure just walked through the door, so I’m putting you on speakerphone—”
Y/N hears rustling on the speaker, as well as muttering in the background as Jo speaks to her fiancée, and then Jo’s voice is back, sounding slightly more distant.
“Okay, so I told Laure what happened—”
“That’s awful, Y/N.” Laure’s voice is laced with stress, and Y/N can only imagine how much anxiety this information is adding to her already full plate. “They won’t tell you when flights will be leaving again?”
“Nope.” Y/N pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her free arm around them, leaning her head against the back of her couch.
“Okay, well, planes aren’t the only way to get here.” Laure says, always the more rational out of the two. “Maybe a car—?”
“Y/N doesn’t have one.” Jo chimes in, a hint of teasing in her voice, despite the serious problem that’s in discussion. “She’s scared of driving—”
Y/N sits up, an indignant look on her face. “I’m not scared of driving!” She says hotly, setting her empty coffee mug on the table with a thud. “I just hate L.A. traffic, and honestly, there’s no point!  I can walk to work, and Uber anywhere else I need to go!  A car would be completely useless to me!”
“Except now, when you’re about to miss your best friend’s wedding.” Jo points out. “What about renting one?”
Y/N sighs, her moment of indignation already fizzled out. “I tried that already.  There’s nothing available for a cross country trip.”
“And the drive is so long.” Laure murmurs, and Y/N knows it’s more for Jo’s benefit than hers. “It’s over forty hours.  She can’t do that by herself; it’s not safe.”
“But—”
“Look, Jo, don’t worry about this, alright?” Y/N cuts across her best friend’s anxious voice, assuming her usual role of protector. “I’ll figure this out.  I promise you; I will make it to your wedding on time, looking pretty in my dress, and with your wedding bands.  I promise.”
“We’ll keep thinking about it and see what we can come up with.” Laure promises through the phone, her voice sounding further and further away. “This is just—it’s a bump in the road, but it’s fine.  We can work around this.  We’ll find a way.”
The way that Laure finds for Y/N pounds on her door at 7:30 A.M. the next morning.
Y/N, like any exhausted and stressed out adult who has already begun her ten days of vacation time that she booked off for the wedding, is fast asleep in her bed when she hears the knocking.  The loud noise pulls her out from her dreams abruptly, and she cracks one eye open, squinting through the sunlight that’s lighting up her room.  When the knock echoes through her apartment again, she pulls herself from her sheets with a groan, grabbing her robe from the back of her door and tying it around herself as she makes her way to the front hallway to yell at whoever has the audacity to wake her up.
When she opens the door, Harry Styles is peering down at her with an irritated look on his face.
“Took you long enough, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes as he speaks, finally stepping back from the door that he had been pounding on a moment ago. “Are you ready to go?”
Y/N rubs her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she does so. “Styles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.  What are you doing here?” She demands.  She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, she thinks, let alone the mental capacity to listen to anything he has to say.
Harry crosses his arms across his chest, and it’s then that Y/N notices the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder. “It’s a forty-two hour drive from L.A. to the Catskills.” Harry’s eyes scan over Y/N’s appearance, the very corner of his strawberry pink lips twitching, and Y/N tightens her robe around herself with a glare.
“A drive?” Y/N asks, uncertainty growing in her voice as she crosses her arm over her chest. “What are you talking about?”
“Your flight was cancelled, right?” Harry’s voice grows more impatient as Y/N’s half asleep brain struggles to piece together what’s happening. “So was mine, so I decided to drive to the wedding, and then Laure called me last night, begging me to take you with me.” He shrugs a bit, fixing his sunglasses on top of his head as his jade eyes scan over her appearance one more time. “Not my first choice of road trip partner, but I don’t think the best man can say no to bringing the maid of honour.  And splitting the cost of gas will be nice.”
“Okay, wait, I…” Y/N’s finally coming out of her fog of exhaustion, and the newfound clarity of her mind is causing a newfound pit to develop in her stomach. “Laure and Jo didn’t tell me any of this.”
“Well, I expect they’re a bit busy, given that they’re getting married in a week.” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder with a sharp sigh. “Look, are you ready to go or not?  It’s over a five day drive, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”
“I—yeah—” Y/N nods before taking a hesitant step back from the doorway, positioning herself to the side so that Harry can get by her. “I just have to get dressed and grab a couple last minute things, so…come in, I guess.”
Harry flashes an insincere smile to Y/N as he steps into her apartment, his eyes darting around at the furniture and home decor.  Y/N watches as his gaze lingers on her library of books, her yellow bicycle leaning against the wall, and every other little touch of herself that she likes her home to have, and she can see the judgement that’s clearly apparent in his eyes.
“You can sit, if you want.” She mutters, turning on her heel to go back to her bedroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
The first thing Y/N does when she shuts her bedroom door behind herself is assess the situation in the analytical way that usually calms her.  Alright.  So a road trip across the country isn’t exactly ideal, and a road trip across the country with Harry Styles is even less ideal.  But, at the present moment, being stuck in a car with Harry seems to be the only sure way that she’ll be able to make it to Jo’s wedding on time. And for Jo, Y/N would put up with anything.  Even Harry.
As she rummages through her drawers for some leggings and a tank top, Y/N wonders what she could have possibly done to bring this much bad karma into her life.  While she gets dressed, her mind flickers back to Murphy’s Law, how everything that can go wrong will go wrong, in the worst possible way, and then she thinks about being in a confined space with Harry for five days, and—yeah.  That seems to be the worst possible thing she can think of.
Y/N remembers the first moment she’d met Harry seven years ago, and the unfortunate circumstances under which that meeting had happened.  Jo and Laure had just barely met back then, and Jo had begged Y/N to come out on a double date with her and “this really hot girl from my women studies class who I’m, like, 83% sure swings my way.”
Y/N had groaned at that comment, flopping back on her bed in the tiny dorm that she and Jo shared. “No! I have an essay due in three days that I haven’t even started!”
Jo rolled her eyes as she flopped down on Y/N’s bed as well, ignoring her own half-made bunk that was across the small room, favouring her best friend’s bed like she always did. “We both know you’re not starting that essay until the day before it’s due, and that it’s just an excuse because you don’t want to go!”
“I don’t want to go.” Y/N had agreed with a sharp and fervent nod.  She shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed, knowing from experience that she wasn’t going to be able to focus and argue at the same time. “Why would I want to hang out with a complete stranger while you make googly eyes at a girl from your class?”
“Okay, first, I don’t make googly eyes.” Jo made a face at that comment, nudging Y/N’s calf with her own foot. “And second, he’s her best friend from high school, and he’s coming to visit all the way from London!”
“So?  He’s still a stranger!” Y/N pointed out, her eyes drifting to the sticky note covered novel beside her.  She picks it up and begins to flip through the marked pages as she speaks. “Knowing where he’s from doesn’t change that!”
“It should, because he’s only going to be here for a week, and Laure almost cancelled the date because she doesn’t want to miss spending time with him—” Jo grabbed one of Y/N’s pillows and tossed it at her arm, knocking the book from her hands. “Focus! So I said that he could come, but she said that she didn’t want him to be left out, so I said that I happen to have an incredibly beautiful and witty best friend who would be able to entertain Harry while we all hang out together.”
Y/N inhaled deeply as she gave Jo a withering look. “Did you already tell her I’m going?”
Jo, in return, gave Y/N her most dazzling smile. “Yes.  We’re meeting them for dinner at 7.”
Y/N shakes herself from her memories as she runs to her bathroom to toss her toiletries back into the bag she’d taken them out of the day before, working as quickly as she can. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, she thinks, because the present Harry is currently sitting in her living room, probably snooping through her stuff, and the longer she takes to get ready to go, the more he’ll go through.  Not that there’s anything incriminating in her apartment, really—or at least, nothing incriminating in her living room.  When Y/N makes it back to her bedroom, however, to quickly zip up her suitcase, she does make sure she grabs her favourite vibrator from the box under her bed, tucking it between her half-folded underwear.  If she’s going to be gone for a week, she’ll need something to help her relax.
Within a few more minutes, Y/N is repacked and ready to go.  Her hunter green bridesmaid dress is carefully arranged on the very top of her clothes in her suitcase, all of her makeup and toiletries are packed inside, and Jo and Laure’s wedding rings are secured in little velvet boxes stashed between her socks.  As far as physical preparedness goes, Y/N is ready to go on a coast to coast road trip. As far as mental preparedness goes, however…that’s the thing that Y/N’s not quite sure about.
“What are you doing?”
Y/N glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, her hand still half stretched out to the radio dials in his car.  Although Harry’s green eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face is turned towards the long road in front of them, he still somehow manages to catch her motions, and it irritates her to no end.
“I’m changing the radio station?” Y/N answers after a moment, giving him a puzzled look. “I don’t know why you listen to this weird oldies station, but—”
“First of all—” Harry’s hands turn the steering wheel slightly to guide his car over the curve of the road, his jaw twitching as a smirk works its way onto his pink lips. “This isn’t a radio station, it’s my Spotify playlist.  I put a Bluetooth connection in Stevie a year ago. Secondly—”
“Stevie?” Y/N repeats incredulously, twisting her whole body as best she can to look at Harry straight on. “You named your car?  You’re one of those guys?”
Harry finally gives Y/N a flicker of a glance, the glare obvious in his eyes even behind his dark sunglasses.  He turns his attention back to the road before replying. “Secondly—” He continues from before, ignoring her comment as his right hand readjusts the gear shift. “Driver picks the music.”
Y/N makes a face, the corners of her lips pulling down into a grimace as she settles back into the passenger seat with her arms crossed. “So we’re just going to listen to ‘Tiny Dancer’ for the entire drive, are we?”
“Not the entire drive, no.” Harry flicks on his turn signal with a ringed hand before shoulder checking to change lanes.  Y/N glances at him, her eyes training on the strained muscles in his neck as Harry continues. “We’ll listen to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ too.”
“Great.” Y/N exhales slowly and presses her head back into the seat’s headrest, closing her eyes as Elton John’s voice continues to float through the speakers. “Really looking forward to it.”
“You know, maybe you should try to sleep.” Harry says, his voice prickled with irritation as Elton John bleeds into The Zombies. “I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”
Y/N readjusts her crossed arms as she mutters a short reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Still, she shuts her eyes again, twisting her body towards the window in an attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep.  Being in the car with Harry is already giving her a throbbing migraine, and they’ve only been on the road for less than two hours.  Sleeping through most of the trip will probably be the only way she’ll be able to survive it.
Despite that realization, however, her phone vibrates in her lap three minutes later, pulling her away from her thoughts.  Y/N glances down at the now lit screen, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she registers the name on the message.  Opening her phone quickly, she reads over the reply as a guilty feeling begins to build in her stomach.
BRANT: Hey, what are you doing tonight?  Want to grab some dinner?
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?” Y/N’s head snaps back up, her eyes jerking in Harry’s direction.  Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, catching every one of her movements, and the constant surveillance is annoying to no end.
Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance, or is choosing to ignore it. “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” Harry’s blunt words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring covered fingers against the gear shift. “Everything alright?  Is it Laure and Jo?”
“No, it’s just—” Y/N glances down at her phone again, fingers poised over her keyboard as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s no one.”
Harry snorts once, a short and harsh sound that grates against Y/N’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t buy that for a second.”
“It’s no one to you.” Y/N updates her retort, turning her full attention back to her phone. “My personal life is none of your business.”
Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t!! Caught a last minute ride to New York with somebody.  Maybe once I’m back?
“Personal life, huh?” Harry clicks his tongue once, and the childish noise is even more irritating than his snort. “What, you can’t talk to me about whoever you’re shagging?”
The blunt remark hits Y/N like a shot to the chest, and she sputters for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—we’re not—” Taking a moment to gather herself and clear her throat quickly, Y/N avoids Harry’s gaze as her cheeks begin to burn. “We’re not like that. We’ve just…had a few dates, that’s all. There’s nothing…official.”
“You don’t need to be official to have a shag, now, do you?” Harry lifts his hand from the gear shift to fix his sunglasses, settling it back down on his jean covered thigh once he’s done. “If you don’t want to date the bloke—”
“I didn’t say that.” Y/N cuts over him, pulling herself from her embarrassment enough to give him a cold glare. “He’s very nice—”
“Boring, you mean—”
“And I—this is none of your business!” Feeling the flush of embarrassment rise back to her cheeks, Y/N once again turns her attention to her passenger seat window, avoiding Harry’s pressing gaze. “I’m done talking about this.”
Harry gives an indifferent shrug. “Whatever.” He says casually, tapping his finger against his thigh as his shoulders once again lift slightly beneath his fitted black t-shirt. “I just feel bad for the guy, that’s all.”
The comment is bait. And the thing is, Y/N knows it’s bait.  She knows that the only reason Harry is saying it is to get under her skin and keep her talking about Brant, further embarrassing herself in the process. She’s been around Harry enough to know how he works, and she knows that the only reason he would say that is to bait her.  She knows she shouldn’t take it.  And yet—
“There’s no reason to feel bad for him.” Y/N scoffs as she fidgets with the position of her seatbelt, trying to stop the strap from cutting into her chest. “We’ve been talking for a month, and there’s nothing official happening.  Just because you can’t go that long without trying to stick your dick in someone—”
“You have no idea what I can do, Y/N.  Don’t pretend that you do.” Harry’s tone of voice is just as scoffing as hers, his eyes still set on the road in front of them intently as he gives his sharp response. Y/N watches as he shifts the gears of the car and speeds up, just enough to make the engine roar, but not enough to lose control of the car.  Part of Y/N wistfully wishes that he would just slip up and crash the car, just so she wouldn’t have to continue this conversation.
“All I meant,” Harry continues, unaware of the dark daydreams running through Y/N’s head. “Is that I feel bad that you’re clearly not interested in him, which is proven by the fact that you haven’t wanted him in your bed.”
Irritation flares through Y/N’s body again, stronger than the embarrassment of discussing her sex life (or lack thereof) with Harry, and she half considers just grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it into a passing cliff so she can finish them off herself. “For Christ’s sake, Harry, sex isn’t the only way to—”
“I don’t mean actually having it, that’s not a given.” Harry rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he slows down for a curve in the road, his practiced hands once again changing gears with ease. “You don’t have to fuck him.  But you should want to, especially if you’ve had a month of dates, and you clearly don’t want to.”
Y/N doesn’t hide the incredulous stare of disbelief on her face as she turns to look at him. Harry’s face, though turned towards the road still, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s the ghost of a smirk on his strawberry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses, as if he’s thinking hard about the conversation between them.  Normally, Y/N would be amazed that Harry is thinking hard about anything.  However, given that their conversation is apparently turning into whether or not she wants to have sex with someone, Y/N’s not too thrilled about his sudden investment and serious contemplation of the topic.
Shaking her head decidedly, Y/N finally spits out a finishing phrase. “You don’t know what I want.” She says decidedly, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweater she stashed back there.  She clumsily pulls it over her body without taking off her seatbelt.  Harry keeps the AC cranked as high as he can, and she knows that he’ll kill her if she tries to change it. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know more than you think.” Harry counters, the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip. “And I’m pretty good at reading body language.  You don’t really want him.  He—what’s his name?”
Despite her better judgement, Y/N answers in a flat voice. “Brant.”
The corners of Harry’s cherry lip twitches. “Brant.  Yeah. It’s clear you don’t really want him, and you’re wasting your time.  You’re wasting his time, too.  Poor Brant.”
“Poor—you’re such an ass, you know that?” Y/N’s irritation bubbles over as she gives Harry a nasty look, her hand squeezing her thigh hard in an attempt to ground herself in their conversation. “You can try to pretend otherwise, but you don’t know anything about me, or him, so—”
“You think I’ve been friends with Laure and Jo this long and haven’t learned anything about you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, risking a glance at her as he presses a heavier foot onto the gas. “I told you, I know more than you think, and that includes your type.”
An incredulous scoff leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she shakes her head in obvious disbelief before responding. “My type.  Right. What is my type, then?  What’s Brant like, exactly, since you seem to know everything?”
Harry goes quiet then, his brow furrowing again as he returns his full attention to the road.  With his incessant chatter gone, the only sounds in the car being “Maps” playing quietly in the background and Harry’s ringed index and forefinger tap on the steering wheel.  Y/N breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction as she relaxes back in her seat, her attention turned back to the blurred landscapes speeding by her window.  Finally, she’s managed to get Harry to stop with his ridiculous assumptions—
“You like someone that’s stable and secure, so he probably works in some corporation, or an office job. Majored in business, I’d think, but has a minor in something like mathematics.” The side profile of Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought. “He wants to work his way up in the company, but never wants to actually start anything on his own.  He likes the stability of a blueprint. You’re obsessed with punctuality, so he’s probably always on time to pick you up for dates—and he has to pick you up, because you don’t drive—and your dates are never really dates. Dinners, or movies, or something like that, but they never really have that spark.” Harry’s shoulder lift slightly as he continues to make his conclusions. “Which, honestly, is probably a big reason in why you don’t want to fuck him, because as much as you like stability and safety, you also like the idea of a grand gesture, or something like that.  And you probably split the bill a lot at dinner, right?  Because it just seems fair, but really it’s because you know it’s not a real date.  But it passes the time, and he’s nice, so it’s fine.  But it’s only fine.” Harry licks his lips once more as he collects his next thoughts, his teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as his tongue retreats back into his mouth. “And he’s probably already talking about you coming to meet his family for some holiday.  Not in a romantic way, but just because he likes to plan everything in advance to every minute detail.  Just like you.”
Halfway through Harry’s speech, a flush had begun to creep up Y/N’s neck, continuing to warm her jaw and ears before settling on the apples of her cheeks.  She keeps her eyes trained on her window and her mouth pressed into a tight line, refusing to look at Harry and give him any hint of just how shocked she is that he’s guessed so much.
Harry, however, doesn’t plan on letting her get away from his inquisition. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking at her, his emerald irises burning into the back of her head. “Am I right?”
“I—” Y/N clears her throat quickly, but her voice is still strained and tight when she replies. “No.”
Harry hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with curiosity with he replies. “Really?” The irritating tap of his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music continues. “What did I get wrong?”
“He—” Y/N hates the way her skin is burning from his interrogation, how her voice shrinks smaller and smaller the more she speaks.  If Harry knows her so well, then he knows how much she loves being in control, and in this situation, with Harry managing to pull every one of her most secret inner thoughts and feelings out of her without trouble, she feels anything but in control. “He has a minor in accounting, not mathematics.”
The laugh that leaves Harry’s mouth is loud and bombastic, and his whole body curves over the steering wheel as the sound rolls out of him, his eyes just barely managing to stay on the road while his sunglasses slide down his nose. “Right.” Harry says between belly laughs, his voice stretched out in amusement. “But everything else was spot on?”
Y/N keeps her stiff body turned towards the window, refusing to engage in the conversation any further. That doesn’t stop Harry, however, who fixes his sunglasses as chuckles continue to roll out of him.
“I take it back. Maybe he’s the one wasting your time.” His hand runs through his hair lazily, fixing the curled strands that had fallen into his eyes as he laughed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to sleep with your bore of a boyfriend—”
“He’s stable!” Y/N breaks her silence to protest Harry’s words, her voice heated. “And he’s not my boyfriend.  We’ve been seeing each other, but we’re not—it’s not exclusive, or—nothing serious—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.  It’s fine.” Harry waves off her arguments with a flick of his tattooed hand. “Besides, like you said, it’s none of my business, right?”
Y/N can practically picture what Harry looks like in this moment.  His chestnut curls are probably a mess from fidgeting with them, and his cheeks are most likely rosy beneath his stubble from the peels of laughter that left his equally red lips a moment ago.  Most infuriatingly of all, his dimples are probably present, making little indentations in his cheeks to show how entertaining he’s found embarrassing her. Bastard, she thinks, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dig into her palms, pressing them into her sides beneath her makeshift blanket.
She refuses to let herself confirm if her suspicions about Harry’s appearance are correct, and instead keeps her gaze on the blurred trees whipping by outside her window. “Right.” She mutters, leaning her head against the headrest as she closes her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
As soon as the paint-peeled door to the motel room swings open, Y/N knows that she’s not going to be sleeping soundly tonight.
She’s not sure what her first hint should have been.  Perhaps it was the half-flickering blue and red light of the Motel 6 sign that should have tipped her off, or the front-desk attendant who looked as though he was hiding a few secrets himself.  When Y/N and Harry had first approached the front desk of the tiny, vaguely mildew-smelling lobby, their clothes rumpled from the drive and their attitudes just as bothered, the employee in the Motel 6 uniform had barely raised an eye at them, not bothering to look up from his computer until Y/N and Harry were directly in front of him.
“Hi.” Harry had said, his voice taking on a cautious but polite tone that, Y/N remembers thinking, she would have appreciated hearing throughout their eight hour drive that day. “We’d like two rooms, please—”
“Here.” The attendant’s gum snapped in his mouth as he reached behind himself and grabbed an old key with a flimsy blue plastic tag from a wall of empty pegs. “Queen sized bed, the first door on the left.  It’ll do you two nicely.”
“Um, no.” Harry cleared his throat loudly as he gave a slight shake of his head. “We need two rooms.”
Finally, the attendant looked towards them, his eyes scanning Harry before Y/N.  The latter had self consciously pulled her sweater around her, as there was something in the attendant’s eyes that had bothered her. “Don’t have two rooms.  I got one room left.  Everything else is booked.”
Harry had glanced at Y/N then, and she knew that his thoughts mirrored hers: there was no way that they’d share a queen bed together.  No way in hell.  They’d barely survived eight hours in the same cramped car without one of them driving them off a cliff.  If Y/N had to share a bed with Harry, even for just one night, she’d probably end up smothering him in his sleep before the first snore left his obnoxious mouth.
“That’s really not an option.” Y/N had stepped forward then, crossing her arms around herself as the attendant’s eyes canvassed her again. “Isn’t there something—”
“Look, lady, I’m telling you what’s available.” The attendant’s eyes continued to flicker between her face and her chest, making Y/N’s skin crawl more and more with every word that fell from his gum-filled mouth. “The room might have a pull out chair—some do, but I couldn’t tell you which.  Now do you want to share the room with him or not?  If you don’t want to share, then I could try to find something else for just you—”
Before Y/N had the opportunity to respond to the lewd suggestion, Harry was already stepping forward, his body angling protectively in front of her own.  She watched from behind as his broad shoulders squared beneath his black t-shirt, his shoulder blades flexing as he straightened up to his full height.  When Harry answered, his voice was just as firm as it was dark, lacking its previous polite tone.
“We’ll take the room.” He had said coldly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet before tossing a few bills on the front desk. “Thanks for the help.”
Yes, Y/N thinks, all of that should have been a sign for the state of the motel room that they now find themselves standing inside.
The same mildew smell from the lobby surrounds them, permeating through every inch of air that Y/N breathes in. Dust seems to coat every surface as well, with thick layers of it covering the decades old TV and stand, the small coffee table, and the ledge of the window to her right.  To her relief, there is a small arm chair in the corner, which must be the pull out that the attendant had mentioned.  However, her relief is short lived when she sees the ratty beige comforter on the bed, and wonders if maybe sleeping in Harry’s car, which she had sworn to him that she didn’t want to do, might have been the better choice.
Harry shuts the door behind them with a firm thud, turning the deadbolt lock before attaching the chain from the door to the door frame. “Let’s keep that locked, yeah?” He mutters, walking to the window and making sure the beige curtains—everything in the room is a sea of beige, like some sort of khaki coloured nightmare—are pulled closed tightly. “I don’t trust that front-desk prick not to sneak in here.”
Y/N nods, fixing the strap of her duffel bag with her overnight clothes on her shoulder.  She’s not quite sure where to set it down, as everything around them seems to have been sitting stagnant and uncleaned for a while. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way.  For that.”
Harry acknowledges her thanks with a small grunt, barely lifting his head to look at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”
Despite her gratitude for his actions, Y/N can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his gruff response. “Jesus, can you not just say you’re welcome?”
Harry chooses to ignore her comment, and instead sets his bag down on the arm chair, unzipping it roughly. “You can take the bed.” He says simply, tossing his sunglasses into his bag before pulling out a small bag filled with what Y/N assumes are toiletries. “I’ll take the pullout.”
“Fine.” Y/N reluctantly sets her own bag down on the creaking bed, pulling back the covers to check for anything unsightly.  To her relief, the interior of the bed looks cleaner than the exterior, and she returns the covers to their previous position before grabbing her phone charger from her duffel.
Harry glances at her as she gingerly sits on the bed and plugs her phone into the wall. “I’m going to shower.” He says slowly, as if gauging her reaction to the simple phrase. “Do you, um, need in there, or—?”
“Nope.” Y/N shakes her head, her cheeks flushing slightly as she checks her messages. “You’re good.” She keeps her eyes glued to her phone until she hears the click of the bathroom door behind Harry, signalling that she’s alone.
Taking advantage of what she knows will be a rare moment of solitude over the next week, Y/N changes from her tank top and leggings into her pajamas, wishing that her past self had realized how likely it would be that she’d be sharing a room with Harry. She’d brought exactly two pairs of pajamas with her on the trip, and neither pairs were something she wanted Harry to see her in.  The first pair, a baby pink silk set she’d bought on a whim from her favourite lingerie shop, is eliminated before Y/N even considers them, leaving her with just her usual casual pajamas.  Unfortunately, Y/N’s usual casual pajamas consist of an old sports bra that she’d had since moving to L.A., and a pair of men’s boxers that she stole from an ex in college.  Still, despite her hesitancy, she knows that plaid boxers and a faded grey sports bra are better than pink silk and lace, and she changes into them quickly before sitting cross-legged on the bed and dialing Jo’s number.
Jo, like she usually does, answers on the third ring, her voice extra chipper to compensate for the verbal lecture that she knows is coming. “Hey, Y/N!  How was driving today?”
“It would have been better if I’d known Harry was driving.” Y/N sighs, rubbing her palm over the cold skin of her exposed thigh. “Shouldn’t I have been informed of that decision?”
“It completely slipped my mind, actually.” Jo says casually, and Y/N can just picture her leaning her chin into her palm. “How was the first day?  Are you calling to ask me to help bury his body in the desert?  Because, like, you know I would in a heart beat, but I think it may put a damper on mine and Laure’s nuptials if my best friend murders her best friend.”
“No one’s been murdered. Yet.” Y/N glances at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower echoing through the vents and into the bedroom. “Although a ‘help me hide the body’ phone call may be coming soon.”
“Uh oh.” Y/N hears something crackling against the speaker, and pictures Jo shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Is it that bad?”
Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose as she contemplates the easiest way to answer Jo’s question. “He’s such an irritating ass.  He really is.” She lowers her voice, but only slightly.  If Harry’s eavesdropping, she thinks, then let him hear.  It would serve him right. “He wanted to pick a fight over every little thing, and he’s so particular about his car—did you know he named it?  He named it, Jo.  He talks about it like it’s a person!”
A loud sigh echoes through the speaker. “That’s really not that weird, you know.” Jo replies in her best peace keeping voice. “And, by the way, did you know that you’re really the only person who finds Harry irritating?  Laure adores him, and I really like him, and everyone who meets him thinks he’s very thoughtful!”
“Then they haven’t been trapped in a car with him and his playlists for eight hours.” Y/N begins to tap her fingers against her knee in a quick staccato pattern. “He practically interrogated me about Brant today, as if he has any clue about the people I date.”
“Did he?” There’s a trace of curiosity in Jo’s voice now, and Y/N can imagine her leaning forward in interest. “What did he say?”
“He said he thinks he’s boring.” Twisting a lock of her hair behind her ear as she speaks, Y/N leaves her hand resting against her cheek. “He was rude about it, too.  I didn’t ask for his opinion.”
“Well, honestly, Y/N…” Jo’s curiosity twists into hesitation. “Brant isn’t exactly the most thrilling person.  You know that.”
Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing for what seems to be the millionth time that day. “I’m aware of that.  But he didn’t need to be so smug about it!”
“Okay, well, what’s done is done.” Jo says as she takes on her mediator persona once again. “So there’s nothing else to do now except go to sleep, get back in the car tomorrow, and continue driving.”
The sound of the shower stream cuts off, leaving just the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the roof of the motel as ambiant noise. “I guess.” Y/N mumbles, fidgeting with the waistband of her bra. “I’ll talk to you later.  Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After the line clicks dead, Y/N flops back on the squeaking mattress and begins to scroll through her phone, opening her work email to check if everything is running okay back home while she’s gone.  On top of all this, the last thing she needs is for her work to completely blow up in her absence.  Within minutes, Y/N becomes so engrossed in her phone that she doesn’t even notice the bathroom door creaking open and Harry walking out with just a towel around his waist.
Until she looks up, and then her mind goes completely blank.
Immediately, Y/N feels overstimulated.  There’s just…so much going on that she doesn’t even know where to look first, let alone have the ability to remind herself that she shouldn’t even be looking at Harry like this in the first place.  
Harry’s curls are soaking wet, curling down around his flushed cheeks in a way that, if it were anyone else, she’d immediately describe as attractive.  Droplets of water are clinging to every inch of his skin, his toned and tanned and tattooed skin, that seems to continue forever as her eyes travel down his bare chest, noticing every curve of his muscle.  His jade cross, which is almost the exact shade of his eyes, sits between his pronounced pectoral muscles, moving ever so slightly with each step he takes.  Y/N notices tattoos she’s never seen before, like the giant butterfly across his toned stomach, and—her mind goes blank for just a moment—two vines that are tattooed over his prominent pelvic muscles, which just barely dip beneath the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his hips.
As Y/N’s eyes glue themselves to the way Harry’s towel is moving as he walks, arousal begins to pool in her stomach, travelling all the way down to her core and back again.  For a split second, she thinks that maybe Harry is right.  Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck Brant, because she knows for certain that she’s never thought about him the way she’s thinking about Harry in this moment.
But it’s Harry, she reminds herself, as she tries to force herself to snap her gaping mouth closed. Underneath all those muscles and tattoos—and there are a lot of muscles and tattoos—it’s Harry, who annoys her to no end, who is one of the most self-absorbed individuals she’s ever met, and who has had it out for her since the day they met.
“Sorry.” Harry’s low accent snaps Y/N from her thoughts and pulls her wandering eyes back to his face. “Forgot my clothes out here.”
“It’s—” Y/N’s voice cracks in the middle of the word, still hyper-focused on just how it’s possible for one person to be as attractive as they are irritating, and she clears her throat before trying to speak again. “It’s fine.”
If Harry notices the slip in Y/N’s voice, he doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he just walks to his open bag, locking one hand firmly over his towel as the other searches through his clothes.  He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, examining them for just a moment before nodding in satisfaction and heading back to the bathroom. Y/N almost swears that she sees him glance at her one last time before he shuts the door, but then she gets lost in the taut muscles of his back, and forgets what she’s thinking entirely.
She’s only just begun to contemplate that maybe she should pull herself together when the door opens again, and Harry exits the bathroom in a way that’s a little more presentable.  His hair is still damp, but his body is dry, proven by the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s now clinging to his arms and the boxers that are hanging low on his hips. His tattooed hips.  His incredibly sexy tattooed hips that could probably—
“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he moves his bag from the chair to the ground.  He begins to unfold the bed from the armchair cushions to reveal a creaking twin bed, carefully stretching it out as he waits for an answer.
“I—pajamas.” Y/N glances down at herself self consciously, fixing the strap of her sports bra as she does so. “I just—I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room, so…”
Harry nods tersely as he finishes setting up the bed, his expression unreadable while he walks to the closet and grabs a set of sheets and a blanket. “Cute boxers.” He says casually. “Are they Brant’s?”
Within a flash, the intense rush of attraction and desire Y/N had been feeling is gone, and is instead replaced by the familiar irritation as she watches a smirk grow in the very corner of Harry’s mouth. “No.” She says flatly, turning her attention back to her phone.
“Interesting.” Harry says slowly, laying the sheets and blanket on the bed in a haphazard manner. “Whose are they, then?”
Y/N gets up from the bed and grabs her toiletry bag from her duffel before answering. “An ex.” She says shortly, tucking the patterned bag under her arm. “And why does it matter to you?”
The sound of the rain against the roof and windows gets louder and louder as they speak, and Harry raises his voice to be heard over the precipitation. “It doesn’t.” He shrugs as he maneuvers his lanky body under the blanket without causing the bed to fold in on itself. “Just curious, that’s all.”
“Well, you don’t need to be curious.” Y/N opens the bathroom door, sparing one last withering glance at Harry over her shoulder.  He’s sitting up on the bed with one leg hanging out from beneath the covers as one hand plays with his hair, the other fiddles with a ring on his finger, and the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye lights a fire in Y/N’s chest.  Except she can’t tell if it’s a fire of anger or arousal.  
When she slams the door behind her, it’s her own confusion over that distinction that frustrates her more than anything else.
“Took you long enough.” Harry scoffs while leaning against the side of his car, his white t-shirt a contrast to the dust covered body of the black Chevy Impala.  His dark sunglasses are perched on top of his head, keeping his unruly curls out of his eyes, while his arms are crossed over his chest impatiently as he waits for an answer. “I dropped off the keys ten minutes ago.”
By way of explanation, Y/N holds up the cardboard drink tray in her hands, a brown bag balancing in between the two coffee cups. “I was getting us breakfast, Styles.  Calm down.” She walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in one handed. “I figured you’d be even crabbier hungry.”
“You mean you’d be crabbier without caffeine.” Harry retorts, climbing into the driver’s side in one smooth motion. “Here—” He takes the tray from her so she can buckle her seatbelt, carefully removing the two coffees and setting them in the cup holders between them. “Just be careful not to spill anything.”
Y/N rolls her eyes as she picks up the coffee closest to her (she’d gotten them both black). “Why? Worried about me ruining Stevie?”
Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys as he gives her an irritated look. “Yes, actually. I’ve put a lot of work into her.” The car roars to life as Harry turns the key in the ignition, buckling his own seat as the motor warms up. “Adding on two thousand miles to her in five days is already worrisome enough, and that’s not even counting the other two thousand she’ll get on the way back.”
Y/N doesn’t respond to the comment, and instead lets the sound of Harry’s playlist fill the silence of the car as Harry peels out of the Motel 6 parking lot.  She’ll be glad to leave that place behind, she thinks, and focus on finding something better—and more private—for tonight, wherever they end up.
Harry, however, doesn’t seem content with letting silence fall between them. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks after a few moments, one hand on the steering wheel as he takes a sip of his coffee.
Glancing at him from the corner of her eye suspiciously, Y/N reaches into the paper bag and grabs her Danish, taking a small bite before answering. “Not great.”
“Was the bed bad?” Harry asks curiously, his brow furrowing while his eyes stay glued to the road, moving only to glance at the occasion sign directing him back to the highway. “The pull out wasn’t great, but I’ve slept on worse.  I would’ve thought the bed would be better than that.”
“No, it—I mean, the bed wasn’t amazing, but it—” Y/N clears her throat and swallows the bite of pastry in her mouth. “I, uh, I don’t sleep well when it’s raining.”
At this new information, Harry’s eyebrow quirks up, and he risks a look in her direction to attempt to read her face.  Y/N’s own eyes are focused on the Danish in her hands, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifts the pastry to her mouth to take another bite.
“You don’t?” Harry asks after a moment, the confusion in his voice almost visible within the space between them. “But it’s like white noise, isn’t it?  Supposed to be relaxing, and all that.”
Y/N gives a half shrug of her shoulders. “It’s—well, it’s not the rain, exactly, just—what it’s usually paired with.” Y/N hopes that her clear hesitancy to answer will be enough of a signal to Harry for him to drop the subject.  Harry, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on the reluctance in Y/N’s voice; or, at least, he doesn’t care enough to acknowledge it.
“What do you mean, what it’s paired with?” Harry takes a small sip of his own coffee, careful of the temperature of the liquid. “Like…wind, or—?”
Y/N debates back and forth with herself internally, but she knows that Harry won’t drop the subject without getting a satisfying answer. “Thunder.” She answers finally, setting her coffee down in her cup holder before turning her gaze towards her window. “I don’t like thunderstorms, ever since I was a little kid, and when it’s raining, it always feels like thunder is around the corner.  Puts me on edge, like I’m waiting for it.  And I can’t sleep.”
“So you never sleep when it rains?” Harry asks slowly, and the tone of incredulous disbelief in Harry’s voice is enough for Y/N to be able to imagine the expression on his face. His forest green eyes wide, strawberry pink lips agape, brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw slack as he contemplates a response to a grown woman admitting that she’s afraid of thunder. The image in her head is enough to make the back of her neck flush.
There’s a tightness in the back of her throat, and Y/N attempts to clear it again before answering. “Never.”
“Huh.” Harry taps his fingers against the gear shift in succession three times. “You’d hate London, then.”
The casual comment catches Y/N by surprise, but she doesn’t allow herself to lower her guard. “That’s why I don’t live in London.” She mumbles the words as her fingers pick at the napkin wrapped around her Danish. “I picked L.A. for a reason.  It has lots of heat, barely any rain, and I’m reasonably close to Disneyland whenever I feel like I need something magical.” The last part slips out without Y/N thinking, and the flush creeps further up her neck as a surprised laugh leaves Harry’s mouth.
“Something magical?” Harry repeats, new crinkles appearing next to his eyes as he laughs, as if the dimples that crease his cheeks aren’t proof of his amusement enough. “Do you frequently feel like you need something magical?”
It’s Y/N’s turn to give an incredulous look now, her body half twisting towards Harry to observe his confusing reactions. “How did I just admit that I’m afraid of thunder, and the thing you’re focusing on is that I like Disney?”
Harry shrugs at her words, flicking on his turn signal to exit towards the highway. “I don’t know.” He says as he peers over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. “I mean, everyone has fears.  Not liking thunder isn’t exactly uncommon, you know.  However, hearing that Ms. Serious Type A Perfectionist likes magic—” His grin grows bigger by the second. “Now that’s surprising.”
“Oh, shut up.” Y/N mutters, finishing her Danish in a few more bites.  She waits until she’s entirely finished chewing before continuing the conversation over the voice of Billy Joel coming through the speakers. “Since I’ve admitted something I’m afraid of…” She starts, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s only fair that you admit something, too.”
Harry snorts in response, his hand freezing its movement with his coffee cup still half lifted to his lips. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” Y/N hums as she slips off her shoes in order to pull her legs beneath her to fold into a cross-legged position on the car seat. “Not so much fun when it’s your turn, huh? C’mon, what’s the Brit scared of? Not enough biscuits for afternoon tea?”
A short and harsh breath of air leaves Harry’s nose, half a snort as he sets his coffee down in his cupholder. “No, actually, diminishing biscuit levels are a low level fear for me.”
“Then what’s a higher one?” Y/N prods, watching as Harry’s neck muscles tense as he shoulder checks to change lanes.  There’s something about the movement that catches her eye, but she can’t quite figure out why—or rather, she can, but she’d rather pretend that she’s unaware.
“Uh…” Harry’s fingers nimbly switch on his turn signal before he transitions to the left lane, his right hand moving the gear shift to its desired place. “Crowds.  I’m not a fan of big crowds, really.  Like when everyone’s pressed together, so tight that you can’t breathe, and you can’t hear yourself think because it’s so loud…yeah. I don’t like that.”
The simple answer surprises Y/N as much as she imagines her answer surprised Harry. “Crowds?” She repeats back to him, a forgotten memory of long gone conversations coming to the forefront of her mind. “But what about, like, concerts and stuff?  Laure always told me when she’d go to shows with you…”
“That’s different.” Harry shrugs as one of his ringed hands comes to his lips, rubbing over them slowly as he contemplates his next words. “I…When I’m at concerts, I always go with someone, and if we’re in the general seating area, where there’s a lot of people, I always stick with them.  Like, sometimes, if it’s getting crowded, or people are pushing, Laure will hold my hand, so…” Redness begins to creep up Harry’s pale neck, staining the tops of his ears a deep berry colour as he trails off.
Not for the first time since their conversation began, Y/N is surprised at how candid they’re being with each other.  As she watches Harry’s blush grow, she feels her own diminish, a physical representation of her trading her embarrassment for something more empathetic.
“I get it.” Y/N says after a moment, once it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to continue. “When there’s thunderstorms, um, I feel better when I’m with someone, or talking to someone. It makes me feel less…”
“Alone?” Harry finishes for her, his eyes flickering from the road to her profile.  His green irises capture hers for longer than they should, his focus completely gone from the stretch of highway for at least five seconds before Harry’s attention turns back to driving. “Yeah.” He says slowly, pulling his sunglasses down from his hair to hide his eyes. “Yeah, less alone. It helps.”
Y/N nods slowly, unable to look away from Harry’s side profile.  It’s apparent that he’s on edge after their conversation, and she knows her body language is the same.  Tight in the shoulders, hands clenched, back rigidly straight.  And yet, seeing her own body language reflected in front of her bothers her.  Part of her wants to reach out and take Harry’s hand, soothe him like Laure does in the crowd of a concert, but she knows that’s ridiculous.  It’s ridiculous, and it’s Harry, and Harry, of all people, does not need her comfort.  Not in the slightest.
She watches as Harry clenches his fist on top of his thigh.
“Is this really necessary?” Y/N asks, slamming her car door shut as Harry does the same on the other side of the vehicle.  She leans over the roof of the car, crossing her arms on the cool metal as she tilts her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.  The clouds in the sky are getting darker by the minute, signalling the beginning of the storm that canceled her flight, and the angry black colour above their heads is making Y/N anxious.
Harry, however, seems unbothered by the gathering storm, and nods tersely as he pushes his sunglasses up onto his head before opening the door to the backseat and grabbing his army green jacket. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, slipping the jacket over his broad shoulders before slamming the door shut and locking the car. “I’ve never been to Utah before.  I want a souvenir.”
“Okay, but—” Y/N follows Harry as he walks towards the dilapidated building in front of them. “Here? Really?  Does this seem like the best place?”
Harry glances at her over his shoulder at her, pausing his long strides to look up at the building he spotted from the highway.  If the chipped grey paint that was once pastel blue and dust-coated windows are any sign, the structure is probably older than Harry and Y/N combined, with a splintered front porch wrapping around its small perimeter.  The building has one faded sign above the door that reads “SOUVENIRS/SNACKS” in hand-painted capital letters, and seems to be hanging onto the outside façade by three small bolts and sheer willpower.  Y/N’s almost certain that she’s seen this exact building in a horror movie before someone gets murdered, and while getting back into the car with Harry isn’t at the top of her list of wants, it’s certainly preferable to getting stabbed to death by a serial killer.
“It’s fine, Y/N.” Harry waves off her concern without a second thought about the appearance of the shop. “If you’re really bothered, you can wait in the car.”
Y/N considers it for a moment, but decides against it.  She needs to stretch her legs, and honestly, Harry seems too trusting.  He probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was sketchy until their knife was in his back.  And, seeing as how he has the keys to the only getaway car available, Y/N kind of needs him around without a stab wound carved into his flesh.
“Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs, pulling her own jacket around her tighter as she steps over the worn wooden steps to the door. “We’re on a schedule.”
When Harry pushes open the door, the smell of stale air hits Y/N before anything else.  Despite one open window and a fan in the corner of the shop that’s being used in a weak attempt to circulate the air, it feels like nothing fresh has been in the shop for a while.  Y/N shoots a glance at Harry, caution and warning written all over her face.
While Harry sees her glance, he waves off her concern, turning his attention to the few shelves and wire racks around the small shop that are lined with inventory.  Within a few moments, he’s entertaining himself in the post card section, comparing different photos of the Utah landscape to each other with great care and concern.  Y/N observes him for a few moments before wandering off on her own towards the snack section of the shop.  Although there are a few items that she thinks about picking up, the thick layer of dust over the packaging puts her off from purchasing them.  She grimaces as she continues walking, stopping in front of a tower of silver key chains in the back corner of the shop.  Most of them, she finds, are crosses and bible verses, and all of them give her an ominous feeling in her stomach.  Y/N runs her finger over a miniature silver version of the Ten Commandments, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so.
“I think we should go, Harry.” She calls to him without turning around, setting the key chain back down on the rack carefully. “Just pick your post card and—Harry?”
When Y/N turns around, Harry’s broad figure is nowhere to be seen.  She walks back over to the post card section slowly, her brow furrowed with confusion as a knot tightens in her stomach.  Where could he be? She wonders, running her hand along the dusty wire rack in front of her.  It’s not like there’s anywhere for him to go in the small shop, and she would have heard if he left, or if he drove away.
“Harry?” She calls again, her steps slower now as worry fills her voice. “Where did you—fuck—!” Y/N screams as something grabs her from behind, its fingers digging into her sides harshly.  She whips around to find Harry standing over her, loud outbursts of laughter spilling from his strawberry pink mouth at the look on her face.
An indignant flush rushes over Y/N’s face. “You’re such an ass!” She hisses, gripping his shoulders and shoving his laughing frame away from her. “I swear, you’re like a five year old—”
“Did I worry you?” Harry snickers between his words, a wicked look of mischief alight in his dark green eyes. “Were you afraid something happened to me?”
Y/N’s cheeks burn with anger as she turns away from him, crossing her arms defiantly. “No.  I wish something had happened to you.  Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your immature antics.”
Harry’s lips stay quirked up in a smirk as he follows her, his voice falling into a singsong tone. “You were worried.” He insists, chuckles still rolling out of him every few moments. “I could tell.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N snaps at him in an irritated voice. “Just pay for your stupid post card and let’s go.”
“I already did. There’s a sign on the desk saying the clerk is out for lunch, so I left some money.” Harry nods to the small desk in the corner with a few dollars left tucked under the dusty service bell. “I think that’ll cover it, yeah?”
“Whatever.” Y/N can’t resist shoving Harry one last time before walking towards the shop door. “That’s enough.  Let’s go. I want to make it to the motel before the storm hits.”
The nice thing about Grand Junction, Colorado, Y/N realizes, is that their motels have multiple single rooms available on short notice.  While she didn’t realize the importance of this fact before this trip started, having an evening of solitude and her own stable space away from Harry for the first time in two days is nothing short of a blessing.
When she gets inside her private motel room, which, while still shabby, is leagues above their previous motel, Y/N locks the door before breathing a sigh of relief.  Just the silence in the room is wonderful, and even though she knows Harry is right next door, having a wall between them is a luxury that she doesn’t take for granted.  When she showers, she doesn’t have to worry about being quick, or toweling off as fast as she can so she can get dressed inside the bathroom without Harry seeing. There’s no need to worry about anyone hearing Y/N sing quietly to herself under the (albeit weak) stream of the shower, nor is there an uncomfortable stick of her sports bra to her back caused by water droplets that she couldn’t reach in her hurry to dry off. And after her shower, with some of the knots from her back finally worked out, Y/N is able to stretch out on the double bed in the center of the room, her phone in her hand as she reaches for the takeout menus stacked on the bedside table.  She peruses the menus available before settling on Chinese takeout, and within five minutes, her order of a two entrée plate and fried rice is on its way.
Y/N sighs gently as she leans back on the pillows, wishing that she and Harry had stopped at a liquor store before coming to the motel.  She knows she could probably walk to one, but now that she’s showered and comfortable, the last thing she wants to do is wander around Grand Junction until she finds a bottle of Moscato.  Instead, Y/N flicks on the TV with a click of the ancient remote, and begins scrolling through the channels until she finds a rerun of Dirty Dancing that’s just starting.
An amused yet wry smile appears on Y/N’s lips.  It’s this movie’s fault that she and Harry are on an impromptu road trip, really. Jo and Laure both loved it, and were insistent that they had to get married at a resort in the Catskills similar to one from the film.  As her two friends cross her mind, Y/N settles into the sheets as Baby begins her narration, contemplating whether or not she should call Jo to check in.  Just as the thought pops into her head, however, the phone rings.
Y/N answers within a moment, not bothering to check the caller ID.  She and Jo had a strange habit of calling each other the moment the other thought of it, and when she raises her phone to her ear, she expects to hear her best friend’s familiar voice reply. “Hello?”
What voice she actually hears, however, surprises her. “Hey, Y/N.  I’m glad I got through.” Brant says easily, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “How are you?”
“Brant!” Y/N jerks up in bed in surprise, the remote falling from its perch on her stomach onto the sheets. “I—I’m fine.  How are you?”
“Oh, alright.  Just busy with work, but that’s the usual.” Y/N can practically picture the neutral expression on his face, and how he’d shrug his shoulders as he speaks. “How’s the road trip?  I can’t imagine driving for as long as you have to drive.”
“It’s…it’s alright, yeah.” Y/N speaks slowly as she puts her phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee while her hands begin to fidget with her rings. “Long, but not too bad.”
“Well, that’s good.” Brant clears his throat thickly, as if what he’s about to say makes him uncomfortable. “I miss you, though.  And our weekly dinners.”
A feeling of guilt washes over Y/N.  Truthfully, besides Harry’s inquisition on the first day of driving, Brant has barely crossed her mind.  Granted, he isn’t usually at the forefront of her mind while she’s in L.A., either, but for the last few days, her thoughts have been constantly consumed by the stress of making it to the wedding and her annoyance and frustration with Harry.  
“Y/N?” Brant’s voice crackles through her speaker again. “Are you there?
“I—yeah.” She says quickly, pulling herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, just—long day.  I’m tired.”
“I can imagine.” Brant says sympathetically, but there’s something in his tone that almost sounds patronizing. “Who are you driving with?  Have you been taking turns?”
Y/N pauses the fidgeting of her rings before snatching her phone from its balanced place on her knee. She quickly opens her messages and scrolls to her thread with Brant, searching through the text bubbles for a reminder of what she’d said to him.  Had she not told him that she was traveling with Harry?
Within a moment, Y/N confirms that she hadn’t.  All she had said was that she was getting a ride with someone.  Why had she done that, she wonders?  She’s sure she’s mentioned Harry in passing to Brant at least once.  When she talked about the wedding, probably.  As she thinks about it more, however…what had she told Brant about the wedding?  About Jo? How much does he actually know about her personal life?  Most of their dinner conversations revolve around work, or some book both of them have read.  Had the topic ever come up in detail?
“I’m, um, I’m driving with one of Laure’s friends.” Y/N brings the phone closer to her mouth as her other hand works its way to her mouth.  She begins to chew on a hangnail absentmindedly between her words, something she always does when her nerves begin to get to her.  She can’t count the number of times Jo has grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her mouth to chastise her about the habit. “We’re…we’re in Colorado now.”
“Oh, Colorado.  That’s nice.” Brant says over the rustling of papers. “Listen, Y/N, I’ve got some work to get back to, but I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll call you again soon.”
“Uh, yeah.  Sure.  I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N nods, and then the line goes dead.  Out of curiosity, Y/N checks the length of the call.  The time 3:09 blinks back at her.
Tossing her phone back down on the covers, Y/N resumes her relaxed position in bed, despite being anything but relaxed after that phone call.  She should feel guilty, she thinks, for not telling Brant about Harry. But then again, what’s there to tell? She said she was getting a ride with one of Laure’s friends, and that’s true.  She hadn’t lied.  And even if Brant did know that the friend is Harry, why would he care?  It’s just Harry.  There’s no reason for Brant to be alarmed, because there’s nothing going on. And she and Brant…Y/N glances down at the call time again.  Things are different between them.  There’s…they’re comfortable as they are, she thinks.  They’re not dating, and they’re comfortable like that.  So there’s no reason to tell him about Harry, because there’s nothing to tell.  Nothing at all.
Y/N refocuses on the TV screen, where Patrick Swayze is dancing in a tight black tank top. Right.  Nothing to tell.
When Y/N leaves her motel room the next morning with her bag over her shoulder, Harry is already waiting by his car, leaning against the dusty black body with two coffee cups in his hands.  He’s dressed in another black t-shirt (Y/N wonders just how many identical copies of the same shirt Harry has) with usual jeans covering his long legs.  His curls are tied out of his face with a dark green bandana, and Y/N knows that if his eyes weren’t covered with his black sunglasses, the bandana would make them even brighter than they usually are.
“Hey.” Harry calls to her, extending a ringed hand that holds a coffee cup towards her as she walks over. “I got the coffee this morning.  You drink it black, right?”
Y/N nods as she takes the cup from him, careful not to brush over his fingers with her own. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Harry crosses around to the back of the car, opening the trunk with a turn of his key. “Here.” Harry holds out his free hand for Y/N’s bag, taking it from her and setting it down on top of the suitcases in the back. “I got it.”
Y/N regards Harry with a bemused look as she wraps both hands around her coffee cup. “Thanks?” She says again, more questioning this time as she looks at him strangely. “I can do that myself, you know.”
“I know.  I’m just trying to be polite.” Harry’s voice takes on its usual bite like he’s flipping a switch. “Is that alright with you, princess?”
Within a second, the familiar irritation with Harry returns to Y/N, and it’s almost comforting to snap back at him in a testy voice. “Don’t call me that.”
Harry snickers under his breath, and although the sound makes Y/N’s annoyance grow, she detects a different tone in it than a few days before.  Before she can place a finger on why it sounds different, however, Harry is climbing into the driver’s side of the car and starting the engine.
The two of them are silent as Harry finds his way back to the highway, and they stay in that silence for the first few hours of that day’s leg of the trip.  As the third hour begins to pass, Y/N is content listening to the throaty and captivating voice of Stevie Nicks fill the cab of the car. By the second chorus of the song, Y/N is humming along quietly, her foot tapping to the same beat that Harry’s fingers are spelling out against the steering wheel.  It’s comfortable, she thinks after a moment.  The silence between them.  It feels different than it did on their first day, when Y/N was questioning her choice to get into a car with Harry and commit to a 42 hour drive. The silence seems to be fueled more by comfort than tension.  It’s…refreshing.
A memory from the first day ignites in the back of her mind, a spark so bright and obvious that she can’t believe it took her so long to see it. “Stevie.” Y/N says suddenly, turning to Harry as a smile spreads over her face. “You named your car Stevie, as in Stevie Nicks?”
Harry laughs, his shoulders moving up and down beneath his black t-shirt from the motion.  One hand lifts from the steering wheel and points a finger gun at her. “Took you long enough.  I was wondering how many days you’d have to listen to my music to get it.”
Y/N gives his hand a light shove. “I was too distracted by the fact that you named your car.” She rolls her eyes, bringing her bottle of water to her lips for a short sip. “I still think it’s weird.”
“It gives her character.” Harry defends himself as he rubs a hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly. Y/N can see the mirth swirling around in his light irises. “A bit of personality.  Just because you don’t value personalities doesn’t mean anyone else doesn’t.”
“I don’t value personalities?” Turning in her seat to stare at Harry head on, Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just your taste in men, that’s all.” Harry says it casually, like it really can just be a “that’s all” type of sentence.
Within a heart beat, the comfortable atmosphere in the car turns to ice as Y/N straightens in her seat, her spine tense, tightening every nerve in her body along with it. “What the fuck does that mean?”
When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darken, his guard going up as he senses the shift in Y/N’s tone. “Nothing, just…motel rooms have thin walls.” Harry mumbles, having the decency to keep his eyes on the road as his ears redden slightly. “And from what I overheard, Brant doesn’t exactly seem…stimulating.”
Y/N sputters indignantly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response as anger rises in her chest. “You—” She sucks in a quick breath that hits the back of her throat harshly. “You eavesdropped on me?”
Harry licks his lips once, clearing his throat once before answering.  The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel has resumed, his nervousness apparent in his movements as well as his facial expressions. “Not on purpose.  I told you, the walls were thin.”
“So put in head phones!” Y/N exclaims, gripping her water bottle so tight that her fingers begin to strain in protest against the metal exterior.  She has half a mind to throw the bottle at Harry in her anger, barely able to talk herself down from the ledge of the idea.
Harry’s posture shifts in his seat as his shoulders square, and Y/N can practically see his defensive side emerge from within his chest. “It’s not like you two were having phone sex.” He rolls his eyes at the idea. “It was the most boring conversation in the world, and lasted, what, three minutes?  Makes you wonder how long he lasts in other ways, doesn’t it?”
“Stop the car.” Y/N’s voice is low and void of emotion as she replies, her body turned back forward in her seat.
“Am I wrong?  It’s not like you know for sure—”
Anger bubbles over in Y/N’s chest, cancelling out any rational thought she has inside her and leaving pure, unadulterated fury. “Stop the car, Harry!  Now!”
Harry half jumps in his seat when Y/N yells, and he quickly jerks the car to the side of the highway without so much as a turn signal.  Pulling her seatbelt off as he pulls over, Y/N is out the door before Harry can so much as put the car into neutral.  While her more rational mind would tell her that she has nowhere to walk to along a highway in Colorado as the sky darkens to an angry black above them, the only thing she’s thinking of is getting away from Harry.  Stupid, self-absorbed, ignorant, and rude Harry.
“Y/N—” The sound of Harry scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him pushes her to walk faster. “Y/N, come back—”
Y/N turns around on her heel fast and hard, heart pounding so fast that she thinks it might break through her ribs. “What is your problem?” She hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why do you insist on being so—so nasty about him?  You don’t even know him!”
Harry freezes where he is as the wind whips his hair around his face, his bandana barely keeping the messy curls in place. “I don’t—” His speech falters, and he sucks in a sharp breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’m being…nasty.”
“Well, you are!” Y/N takes a deep breath in, placing her hands over her stomach as it expands with air.  It’s a trick that Jo taught her back in high school, as a way to ground herself to her body. Feeling the movement of air in and out of her lungs helps calm her, even if by just a fraction. “Brant is just—he’s someone I’m talking to.  We’ve gone on dates, but we’re not dating, and even though we’re not dating, that doesn’t mean that you can insinuate things about him, or eavesdrop on our private conversations!”
Harry’s jaw tenses as he listens to Y/N speak, waiting until she’s finished her speech to respond in a harsh and clipped tone. “I already told you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. And I��m teasing you.  It’s supposed to be a joke.  Isn’t that what friends do?”
“But we’re not friends, Harry.” Y/N’s voice is flat, the fury in her tone replaced with a hollow emptiness. “We’re not friends.  I don’t need you teasing me about a boy like we’re buddies, or whatever, because we’re not.”
Although Harry opens his mouth to respond, no words cross over the edges of his pink lips.  His jaw tightens even more as he closes his mouth again, and Y/N can see a million things flitting through his green irises, which are getting darker by the moment.  Y/N’s not certain if the darkness is from her words, or the black sky rolling above them that’s sapping the light of day from the atmosphere, and she’s not sure if she can take the answer either way.  Part of her knows that maybe—just maybe—she’s blown this whole thing out of proportion, and maybe she should examine why Harry making fun of Brant bothers her like it does.  It’s not like she’s unaware of his shortcomings, she thinks, but then she wonders why she’s now seeing them as shortcomings, when a week ago, she saw them as positives.  Y/N never has to worry about Brant being too much for her, or forgetful, or scatterbrained—he’s organized, and secure, and stable, and that’s what she likes.  It’s always been what she likes.
Harry’s delayed response tears Y/N from her thoughts. “Not friends.  Got it.” He mutters, rubbing his hand over his stubbled and taut cheeks. “Just get back in the car, then.  Let’s go.”
“Hello!  My name is Gracie, I’ll be your server today.” The waitress in the tiny diner smiles at Harry and Y/N, a notepad in one hand and a half filled coffee pot in the other. “Can I get you guys anything to start?”
“Coffee.” Harry and Y/N speak at the same time, each person’s eyes flickering to the other before looking away.  Y/N keeps her eyes focused on her off-white ceramic coffee cup as Gracie fills it, refusing to make eye contact with Harry again.
The last hour has been almost unbearable.  After they got back in the car, Harry had turned off his playlist, and for the first time since the road trip had begun, true silence had fallen between them. Y/N had thought she would like it, but truthfully, it had been the worst thing she’d ever heard.  Every few minutes, she’d hear Harry shift, or sigh, or tap a tense finger against the gear shift, and she wished that she could say something, but she didn’t.  She couldn’t.  She’d been grateful when he wordlessly exited the highway and parked in front of a diner, as the conversations of stopped truck drivers and the clatter of a kitchen was a good distraction from their argument.
A movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and Y/N glances up just enough to watch Harry slip a pat of butter into his coffee, stirring the contents of the cup with his spoon until it’s melted together.  She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and almost opens her mouth to make a comment (“Really, Harry?  Just add milk like a regular person, instead of drinking a cup of grease.”), but bites it back before it can fall off her tongue.  They’re not exactly in the position to make quips to each other, she thinks, especially after she told him that they weren’t friends.
Which they’re not. They’ve never been friends; that fact isn’t exactly news.  Not getting along has been Harry and Y/N’s signature since the day they first met. So why is there a pit in Y/N’s stomach that gets deeper every time Harry looks away from her?
The click of heels alerts Y/N of Gracie’s returned presence before her voice does. “Have you two decided what you’d like to eat?”
“I’ll have a turkey club, please, on whole wheat bread.” Harry folds up his plastic menu carefully. “And a glass of water on the side.”
Gracie nods, taking the menu from him before turning her eyes to Y/N. “And for yourself?”
“Um—” Y/N had barely glanced at the menu, too lost in her thoughts to think about it. “I’ll just have a burger, please.  And a water, as well.”
Gracie nods as she writes down the order, taking Y/N’s menu and giving the pair one last smile before disappearing to the kitchen.  A fresh wave of silence falls between Harry and Y/N as each of them sips their coffee, both of them doing their best not to look at the person sitting across from them.
Y/N’s best, however, is not up to her usual standard, as she can’t stop herself from stealing a few quick glances while Harry looks out the window.  He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, she notices, as the stubble on his cheeks and chin is even darker than it was the day before.  There’s a permanent crease between his eyebrows, his face as tense as she’s ever seen it, and a darkness over his whole expression overall. It’s like there’s a new wall up between the two of them, and Y/N’s never felt more detached from him.  Which, honestly, is saying something.
She’s looking back down at her own half empty coffee when Harry finally speaks a few minutes later, his voice just as tense as his expression.
“Shit.” He says in a low voice, and then the next sound Y/N hears is that of someone ruffling through pockets.  
She looks up to see Harry doing just that, his hands digging through the outer pockets of his army green jacket. “What?” She asks, her curiosity outweighing her need to continue the silent treatment. “What is it?”
“I had the vows in my—my pocket, but they’re—” Harry jams his hands inside a pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket, and Y/N watches as his face visibly relaxes. “Oh, thank God. I thought they fell out.”
Harry removes his hand from his pocket, two folded up notes clutched within his hand.  Each one is labeled carefully, one with Jo written in Laure’s neat penmanship, and the other with Laure scribbled in Jo’s quick writing.  
Y/N recognizes the papers immediately.  It’s easy, really, considering the amount of time she spent helping Jo rewrite draft after draft of the same sentiments. “You have Jo and Laure’s vows?” She questions, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Why?”
“The same reason you have their wedding bands.” Harry shrugs as he turns the papers over in his careful fingers, making sure not to crease them. “They forgot them.”
A small smile plays on the edge of Y/N’s lips at the memory of her forgetful friends. “Right.  Of course.”
Harry’s eyes flicker to Y/N’s mouth at the sign of movement, and he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. “Want to take a look?”
“At their vows?” Y/N looks around, as if someone could be watching and monitoring them. “I—that doesn’t seem right.”
“Fine.  Then don’t look at them.” Harry says easily, setting the note labeled Laure on the table between them.  His nimble fingers unfold the paper labeled with Jo’s name as his green irises begin to scan across the sheet. “I’ll read them.”
It only takes a few seconds of watching Harry read over the words for Y/N to crack. “Wait.” She brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing anxiously on her cuticle as Harry quirks an eyebrow at her. “Will you read them to me?”
When she asks, Harry spends so long staring at her that Y/N thinks he’ll refuse.  His jade eyes meet hers with an intensity that almost makes her flinch, but Y/N holds his stare, refusing to be the first to back down. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Harry gives a sharp nod, looking down at the note before he starts to read from the beginning.
“‘My darling Jo’,” He begins, his voice soft and low, his accent thick. “‘It seems so strange that this day is finally here.  I feel like we’ve been building up to it ever since the day we first met, and yet it’s always seemed so far away.  When I was a little girl, I always’…” Harry trails off as his eyes continue to move across the words, and he clears his throat before attempting to continue to read aloud. “‘I always thought that there was something wrong with me.  I thought that the things that I felt, and the way that I loved, was dirty.  I thought it was wrong.  I thought that—that I was going against God, and against nature, and that I was going to be punished for it.  And then I met you’.”
Harry pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and Y/N does the same.  There’s a shine beginning to appear in his eyes, and Y/N recognizes it as the beginning of tears because she feels the same thing brimming in her own eyes. She feels a bit guilty for reading the vows, but reasons that it’s for the best.  If she were to hear them for the first time at the wedding, she doesn’t think she’d be able to keep it together.
“‘The moment I met you, I knew that the way I loved could never be wrong, or be dirty, because I was loving you’.” Harry’s accent grows thicker the more he reads, and although Y/N hasn’t seem Harry in many different emotional states, she can tell that this is a sign of how the vows are affecting him. “‘Being with you could never be wrong, and God could never get mad at me for it, because only God could create someone as perfect as you.  I promise to love you when you wake me up at 3 A.M. because you’ve stolen all the blankets, and I promise to love you at 6 P.M. when you almost burn down our apartment while trying to cook for me.  I promise to support you through everything, listen to your stories, and watch in wonder as you make a difference in this world.  I promise to never let my anger get the best of me, and to always give you the benefit of the doubt.  I promise to love every version of yourself that you grow into, just as I’ve loved all the versions you once were.  I promise to love you in every way humanly possible, and even in ways that aren’t humanly possible.  I promise to love, period.  I’—” Harry’s voice cracks, and he glances up at Y/N as he clears his throat to continue. “‘I love you’.”
Y/N doesn’t realize just how emotional listening to Harry read Laure’s vows has made her until the first tear wells over the corner of her eye.  She turns her head towards the window to wipe it away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, but from the way Harry is looking at her when she turns back around, she knows that he caught what she was doing.
“That, um—” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to attempt to clear the emotion from her throat. “Wow.”
Harry carefully folds Laure’s vows back up, taking extra care to re-crease the paper exactly how it had been folded. “I didn’t know she…felt like that.” Harry says after a moment, his voice quiet. “Like she was…wrong.”
Y/N, unsure of what to say, just nods while reaching for Jo’s vows in front of her.  Like Harry, she takes great care when unfolding the paper, smoothing it gently between her hands. “I’ll read Jo’s, then?”
Harry nods as he takes a sip of his water. “Sure.”
Y/N licks her lips once, wetting them with what little saliva she has in her mouth before beginning. “‘Laure’,” She starts, emotion already rising up to form a lump in her throat. “‘I don’t even know where to begin.  I’ve tried to write down all the ways I love you a million different times, but I can never seem to find the right words.  The problem is, I don’t think that there is a big enough word to describe what I feel for you.  ‘Love’ is only four letters, and four letters is just not enough to contain everything I feel.  ‘Adoration’ is nine letters, but even that doesn’t come close.  I think the best way I can describe it is ‘permanent’.” Y/N pauses her reading to take a long gulp of water, the coolness soothing the dry and parched feeling in her mouth and throat. “‘Anyone who knows me knows that I have trouble committing.  The idea of having something forever, of being in one place, normally terrifies me. But the idea of having you forever, and being in one place with you forever…that’s all I want.  I want us to be permanent to each other.  Even when we struggle, and we will struggle, I know that we won’t fall apart.  Committing to you isn’t any trouble.  It’s as easy as breathing.  I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us.  I love you, permanently.  I’ll love you when you’re sick and gross, and I’ll love you when you’re old with a bad hip.” A small laugh falls out of Y/N’s mouth before she continues. “I’ll love you when you haggle at flea markets for the best prices, and I’ll love you when you do something so stupid that it makes me want to tear my hair out.  I love you permanently, and I want all of our family and friends to witness me saying that.  I’ll never back out, or bail, or run away from you.  You’re the one thing in my life that’s never felt hard. You’re my home base, and my north star, and you bring me back down to Earth whenever I need it.  I love you permanently, Laure.  I’ll never stop’.”
As she finishes reading, Y/N folds the paper back up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before grabbing the other note sitting on the table.  She pushes them towards Harry, her misty eyes unable to meet his. “Here. Put these away again, somewhere safe.”
Harry takes the vows from her, slipping them back inside his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping. “It’s probably—” He clears his throat once more, and Y/N knows that the vows have caught him in his chest just as they’ve caught her. “It’s probably good that we read them now, so that we’re…prepared for the ceremony.”
“Yeah.” Y/N wraps her hands around her coffee mug, the warm ceramic surface heating her cold fingers. “You’re right.  They really…love each other.”
Harry taps his fingers against the table top, a concentrative and thoughtful expression on his face.  His eyebrows are knit together above his stormy green eyes, and his pink tongue swipes over his pinker lips once before he speaks. “You know, Laure is my closest friend.  I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Immediately registering the tone of Harry’s voice, Y/N’s head snaps up, her own eyes becoming stormy as they meet his own. “Jo would never hurt Laure.” Y/N says defensively, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up at even the suggestion of her friend hurting someone. “Didn’t you hear her vows?  I’ve never heard her sound so sure of something in her entire life.”
Harry’s jaw flexes at the cadence of Y/N’s voice, and his is just as agitated when he responds. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened—”
“And I’m just saying, it won’t.” The tension between them doubles as Y/N shoots Harry an icy glare. “Do you just look for the worst in people?  Is that all you do?”
“You think I look for the worst in people?  Really?” Harry barks out a harsh laugh, pressing one hand flat against the table as the other fixes his bandana. “Christ, if that’s what you think of me—”
“Why would I think anything else?” Y/N asks incredulously, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. “All you’ve shown me is—”
“Alright, I have the turkey club on whole wheat, and the burger here.” Gracie appears suddenly to Y/N’s right, her tray loaded with food. “Here you guys are…” She sets the plates down in front of Harry and Y/N, her gaze darting between them nervously as she reads the tension in the booth. “Is…there anything else I can get you two?”
“No.” Harry’s voice is hard. “We don’t need anything else.”
By the time Harry pulls the car into a motel just off the highway in Lexington, Nebraska, all Y/N wants is a moment alone.  The strained atmosphere during that day’s drive had been unbearable, and between the anxiety from her confrontation with Harry and the sound of thunder beginning in the distance, Y/N just needs some space to herself to relax and calm down.
Of course, just because that’s what she needs, doesn’t mean that she’s going to get it.  When Harry returns back to the car with a single key in his hand and a sour look on his face, Y/N knows for sure that the universe is against her.
This room, at least, she’s pleased to find, has two actual beds, which are pushed up against the wall perpendicular to the door with a small night table between them.  However, that’s where her pleasure stops, as the click of Harry turning the lock behind her just reminds her that she’s trapped in here, with no chance to get away from Harry, the oncoming storm, or any one of her problems that have developed over the last four days.  The reality of the situation hits her all at once, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control to toss her bag on the bed and walk brusquely to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her before she allows herself to show a sign of her emotions.
The rest of the evening passes in silence.  She showers before changing into her sports bra and boxers, but the amount of exposed skin sends a vulnerable shiver down her spine.  Y/N opts for pulling a sweatshirt over her body, and then sets herself the task of braiding her hair to distract herself.  After that’s done, she busies herself with her skincare routine, taking up as much time as she can in the bathroom before she absolutely has to leave its private interior.
Harry, however, seems to want to see as little of Y/N as she wants to see of him, and pushes past her to enter the bathroom the moment that she steps out of it.  His routine, it seems, is designed to take up just as much time as hers was, because by the time Harry exits the bathroom, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him, Y/N is already tucked under the covers of her bed, although she’s far from asleep.
In the time it took for her to shower and get ready for bed, the storm had picked up, and the only thing audible in the room was the sound of rain pelting against the roof and window, the wind howling through the trees, and Y/N’s shallow, uneven breaths. She wraps the sheets tightly around herself, pulling them taut to her chin with clenched fists that tighten every time a clap of thunder echoes through the room.  Although she’s turned to face the wall, away from Harry, she can hear his footsteps pause as he gets a glimpse of her shivering form beneath the blankets, and she does her best to will herself to appear asleep.  Breathing in as deeply as her tight chest will allow her, Y/N attempts to even her breathing, forcing her shoulders rise and fall in a way that appears natural and normal.  But all it takes is one clap of thunder for the controlled motion to go out the window.
“Y/N…” Harry’s voice is low, but despite its raspy cadence, it lacks the rough edge that it had earlier. The bed behind her squeaks, signalling that Harry’s taken a seat on the edge of it. “Are you—?”
“I-I’m fine.” Y/N says quickly, pulling the sheets tighter to her chin as another shiver rolls through her body. “Go to sleep.”
There’s another creak of Harry’s bed, and Y/N imagines him climbing under the starched linen covers, his damp curls flopping into his eyes as he lays back on the lumpy motel pillow. The image is almost enough to distract her until there’s another clap of thunder.  The sound seems to shake the motel room, and Y/N can’t stop the small whimper that leaves her lips as her body jumps in response.
“When I was a little kid, my mum took my sister and I to the fair every year.”
Harry’s deep voice cuts over the rain, and Y/N shifts in her bed, turning over to face him.  She keeps the covers pulled up to her chin, but readjusts herself so that she can keep her head on her pillow while looking Harry in the eye. “What?” She asks, confusion audible in her quiet tone.
Harry shifts himself as she does, continuing to move down until he’s completely horizontal, with one hand tucked under his pillow as he speaks. “My mum took my sister and I to the fair.  It came to Holmes Chapel every spring, and there were always rides, and games to play, and so many things to see.  It drew crowds from nearby villages every year, really big crowds, and my mum always held my hand tightly so I wouldn’t get lost.”
“I don’t understand, what—” Another clap of thunder shakes the room, making Y/N flinch halfway through her sentence.
“You’re okay.” Harry says immediately, his calm jade eyes focused on her as the reassurance slips from his mouth.  He waits a moment, gauging Y/N’s body language and waiting for his examination to be positive before resuming his story. “So…my mum always told me not to wander off, but when I was six, I did.  I saw some older kids playing games that I wanted to play, and Gemma was busy playing some sort of game with a ball—I can’t really remember what—and when my mum turned her back, I ran off.”
Y/N’s about to open her mouth to ask why he’s telling her the story when the answer clicks into place in her head.  She thinks back to the conversation in the car the day before, how she told Harry that it helps when someone talks to her to distract her from the thunder.  That’s what he’s doing, she realizes, as she forces herself to focus on his quiet and level voice.  He’s trying to keep her calm, even after everything she said and did today.
“I don’t look like it now,” A small smile flits across Harry’s blushed lips. “But I was pretty scrawny back then.  And all the people around me were so tall, my eyes were barely level with their hips. Everyone was rushing around, going in all directions, and I kept calling for my mum, but she couldn’t hear me.  No one stopped to help me.  I felt like I was…trapped.  Like it was a huge forest of legs, running all around me, circling me, and I couldn’t get out.  I was probably only gone for five minutes, but to a six year old, it felt like an eternity.  And just something about it…I don’t know.  It changed me.  I still don’t like crowds because of that day.”
Y/N’s shoulders unclench the slightest bit as another gust of wind blows against the window. “That must have been scary.”
Harry’s own shoulders lift in a slight shrug as he shifts the sheet to cover him more. “It was. But I can’t change it.  I just have to deal with the repercussions of it. That’s all a fear is, really.  A side effect.  We just have to deal with them as best we can.”
More thunder booms loudly outside, but Y/N manages to keep her flinch to a minimum, despite her hands curling into fists again under the covers. “Harry…” She whispers his name into the darkness between them, his outline barely visible save for his green eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry about today.”
Harry shakes his head, his damp hair rubbing against his pillow. “You don’t have to apologize.” He whispers back, his tone as gentle as she’s ever heard it. “I was an arse.  I shouldn’t have pushed the topic.”
“I shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” Rubbing her eyes with one fist, Y/N lets out a low sigh. “I felt so shitty all day because of our fight.  I’ve never…none of our fights have ever made me feel like that.”
“Maybe it’s because…” Harry’s tentative voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at Y/N nervously. “I don’t know.  I thought we were getting along better.  For a moment, at least.”
“We were.” Y/N’s teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she feels a sudden shyness overcome her at the admission. “I’m sorry I said that we…weren’t friends.  I think…I don’t know.  I’ve been stubborn for so long, but I can see now that you’re different than I thought you were.”
“Yeah.  Me too.  I was wrong, too.” Harry runs a hand through his damp curls, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “How did we even end up like this?  I barely remember what made us hate each other so much in the beginning.”
“Seriously?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, barely peaking out from beneath the sheets as another clap of thunder sounds. “You don’t remember?”
Harry mimics her expression. “Do you?”
“Yes!  It was the very first night we met.  We had that double date with Laure and Jo.” Shifting beneath her covers, Y/N moves herself into a better position on her side, so she can be more comfortable while still maintaining eye contact with Harry. “And you were rude, and made inappropriate jokes, and you left in the middle of the date to go chat up a sorority girl!”
“Wait a minute, no!” Harry protests the memory, half sitting up in his bed as he speaks. “That’s not what happened!”
“Yes, it is!” A small laugh falls off Y/N’s lips at his indignant reaction. “I remember it perfectly!”
“No, you remember it wrong!” Although a flush creeps up Harry’s neck, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing in his visible cheek. “I was making jokes to try and break the ice, which didn’t work on the Ice Queen, it seems—” Harry motions to Y/N teasingly. “And you’re the one who started talking to some bloke before I started talking to that girl!”
Another clap of thunder echoes through the room, but Y/N hardly notices as she thinks back to the night they met, and who Harry could possibly be referring to. “A bloke—?  He was a classmate of mine!  I had to talk to him!”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” Harry grumbles, crossing his muscled arms over his sheets. “I had been so excited when Laure said she had an American girl for me, and then—”
“You were excited?” Y/N asks, her voice laced with surprise. “Really?”
The flush on Harry’s neck works its way to the apples of his cheeks. “Well, yeah.” He mumbles the words as his eyes drop from Y/N’s, slipping both hands beneath his head. “She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”
“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” Y/N finishes for him, rolling her eyes in the darkness.
“No.” Harry gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight. “No, she wasn’t wrong.  You were all of those things.  But I wasn’t, and it seemed like…I don’t know.  Like you didn’t think I was good enough for you.  I couldn’t keep your attention.”
The teasing smile slips from Y/N’s face as she registers Harry’s words. “You thought that I thought you weren’t…good enough?”
The nervousness is clear in Harry’s voice now, even over the pounding of rain against the window. “That’s what it seemed like, yeah.”
“I never—I didn’t think that.” Y/N says slowly, managing to relax her body beneath the sheets as she keeps her focus on the memory of meeting Harry. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, but that’s because Jo set the date up without telling me.  I thought you were handsome, and I liked your accent, but then you started to act weird, and you started flirting with that girl, so I thought you were an ass.”
“You still think I’m an arse, princess, be honest.” The teasing tone replaces the nerves, and for once, Harry’s joke has the intended affect on Y/N.  When she rolls her eyes again, it’s more playful, and the same tone is in her voice when she responds.
“I told you, don’t call me princess.” She replies, running her teeth over her lip gently. “So…I guess we both kind of fucked up that day.”
“Yeah.” Harry nods, a sheepish smile playing over his red lips. “I guess so.”
“Can we just restart?” Y/N’s voice is small when she asks the question, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. “Like, all the way from the beginning. No more grudges, no more yelling. Even if it’s just for this trip, for Jo and Laure—”
“It doesn’t have to be just for this trip.” Harry cuts in, his eyes catching Y/N’s again. “We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time.  It’ll be a lot easer if we get along.”
Y/N nods in agreement, tugging down her covers to extend one arm towards Harry.  She makes a fist, holding out just her pinkie finger to him with half a grin on her face. “Truce?”
The space between their beds is small, and Harry’s long arm easily makes it across the no man’s land to meet Y/N’s pinkie with his own.  He loops it together with a smile that matches hers, tired and content and just at the edge of a humble new beginning.  Harry’s response is almost inaudible as thunder booms loudly outside the room, but Y/N can still pick out the cadence of his accent under the noise.
“Truce.”
(pt II)
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honeypiehotchner · 3 years
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My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot
This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp
(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)
quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy
small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)
Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.
Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 
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You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.
With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.
“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.
“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”
You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.
Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.
You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.
The colors are gone.
+++
twenty years later
You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.
The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.
Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.
“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.
You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.
You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.
It’s never you.
You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.
All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?
You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.
As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.
You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.
“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”
“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”
“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”
“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”
“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”
Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.
“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”
You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.
“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.
“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”
You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?
“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”
Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”
Blue. Blue.
You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.
+++
seven months later
“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”
“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”
You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”
“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”
She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.
“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”
“Oh. Cool. Who?”
“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”
You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”
“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.
You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”
“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”
“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.
“Sooo, you’ll come?”
You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”
+++
“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.
“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”
“Fine.”
Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.
Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.
One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.
You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.
After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.
“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”
Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.
There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.
“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.
“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”
But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”
“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”
“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.
His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”
At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.
But neither you or Tom move one inch.
The only issue is people are beginning to stare.
You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.
“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”
“Don’t you have to sit up front?”
He nods. “I do, but—”
“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.
“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.
“I’m sure.”
He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2
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Part 1
Hiii I don't know if you take request but can i request like a chris evans x reader like the reader and chris are married and chris is having a bad day or something so chris go out to the pub and go home drunk and its been going for 3 days and the reader and chris has a 6year old and the reader have been doing all the work and taking care of they're daughter and they're daughter miss chris bc chris is never home and just go home until 12 or 2 in the morning or if chris is home he never play with her daughter and they're daughter is sad abt it bc they're daughter though chris doesn't love her anymore and chris miss her play in school even though chris promise so that day when chris miss her daughter's play the reader confront chris abt it and chris said he doesn't care abt his daughter and he said he didn't know why he married the reader bc she's clingy but chris didn't know that they're daughter heard what chris said abt her and chris didn't know also that the reader is 6-7 weeks pregnant and the reader and chris heard they're daughter sob and that moment chris realize it all his mistakes? and apologize to them idk if this make sense and im sorry if this is so longg, thank you in advance stay safe! <3
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒅𝒂𝒅! 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔
𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕
Chris paced back and forth as he tried to call you for the 10th time. It was the next day, he was sober and the images from last night clouded his brain. Seeing the pain and anger on your face as he said he wish he never married you.
Seeing isabella crying from his disgusting words. That hurt him the most, he regret everything.
The phone went to voicemail again making Chris groan. You had every right to not talk to you, but he wanted to know you and isabella was okay. You were still his wife.
Chris sighed sitting down on the couch. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, exhaling for the hundredth time.
The house phone on the table beside the couch rung causing Chris to quickly grab it. He thought it was you but no, it was your doctor.
"hi is this Mrs Evans?" Chris frowned, "uh no but this is Mr Evans." Chris said, he was deeply confused.
"oh well you tell Mrs Evans that have her next appointment date to check on the baby."
Chris stood up, he wasn't sure he heard right. "I'm sorry, the baby?"
The innocence lady on the other side of the phone phone gasped, "oh I'm sorry, you didn't know."
"no it's fine." Chris sighed softly, his heart picking up speed in his chest. "I'll tell her, thank you." He hung up the phone throwing it onto the couch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He mumbled to himself. He really needed to find you and isabella.
*
You laid in the uncomfortable bed, isabella sleeping soundly beside you. It was around 8 in the morning and thoughts from yesterday filled your mind.
"I wish I never married you"
"Forget isabella, I don't care about her stupid play"
It hurt just knowing he thought those things. It took some time last night, but you managed to go to sleep around 3am. Now it was morning time, you were in a crappy hotel, and Chris was blowing up your phone like crazy.
You sighed pulling back the blanket. You walked to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror, your almost 3 month along bump was showing. You tore your eyes from it looking at your face. You were trying not to think about Chris in that moment.
"get it together y/n." You whispered to yourself.
"mommy." You looked back to the doorway seeing isabella. Her stuff bear was in her hands as she rubbed her sleepy eye with the other hand.
"good morning honey."
You walked over to her, "did you sleep good?" Isabella looked up at you. "Yeah, I slept great." You laughed, "that's great. Uh do you wanna go get some breakfast? We can eat some pancakes and waffles, what you say bug?"
Isabella started to think, it was almost like you can see the wheels turning in her head. "Uhh yeah. Can we see daddy too?"
Your stomach did a flip, you didn't think she'll be okay with what he said about her, but She was 6 so maybe that was the reason.
"umm... Yeah, yeah. We can see daddy." Isabella smiled, "okay, I watch TV now." She walked back over to the bed, hopping in it. You exhaled, running your hands over your face. Here goes nothing you thought to yourself.
*
Chris phone ringing interrupting him from his daze. He picked it up seeing your contact. His heart picked up as he answered it.
"y/n, are you okay?" On the other side of the phone you sighed, "yeah, I'm fine. Look um isabella want see you so can you meet us at the diner at (some street name)?"
Chris nodded even though you couldn't see him. "Yeah, of course." He walked to the foyer to put on his shoes. "Umm, I love you." Chris said. He wasn't expecting you to say it back, but you did. When you did, his heart skipped and a smile formed on his face.
You hung up the phone. You let out a sigh once again. Here goes nothing.
*
You sat in the diner, isabella beside you coloring in the booklet they gave her. You both were waiting for Chris to come.
Your mind was filled, you couldn't even figure out what you were thinking about at all at this point.
After waiting a few more minutes, you heard the diner door open. In walked Chris. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers and stuffed animal. You were guessing it was his apologize.
He walked over to you both, just like yours, his heart was beating pretty hard in his chest.
"hey." Chris smiled shyly at you as you got up. "Hi." You tore your eyes from his, looking down at isabella. She was looking up at her daddy with a soft smile on her face. Chris kneeled down to her height. "Hi baby." He said to her softly. "I'm sorry for yesterday, I didn't mean any of it, I promise. Can you forgive me?"
isabella's small smile grew to a bigger one. "Yeah." Chris smiled at her. "Okay, give me a hug."
Isabella giggled as she Wrapped her arms around his neck. Chris hugged her close. He felt relived she forgave him, he felt so bad for saying what he said to her and he's going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
He pulled away from her, he handed the stuffed animal to her before standing back up.
He looked back at you. "Uh these are for you. It's not an apology, I'll give you a sincere apology later, but for now I have these." He looked at you, he had bags under his eyes from his sleepless night, and tear streaks on his cheeks from the crying he did.
you quickly tore your eyes from His taking the flowers. "Thanks." You cleared your throat. "Uh shall we have breakfast?"
Chris inhaled, "yeah." He walked over to the opposite side of the table and took a seat. You did the same sitting back beside isabella. You all ordered trying to forget about the tension that was very much between you and Chris. It was nice that you both were talking, but you just couldn't wait for the much needed talk later that night.
*
It was around 8 pm. You and Chris decided to drop her off at his mom's house. You didn't want what happened the day before to happen again.
You sat on the couch fiddling with your shirt end. Chris was in the kitchen getting you both something to drink before you talked.
"so um.. I got you some water." Chris said walking over to you handing you the glass of water. You thanked him Taking a sip before placing it on the coffee table. Chris sat beside you with a sigh.
"I.. I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean any of it. It just slipped out because I was drunk and tired, I wasn't in my right head space in the moment and I took out on you and Bella and I'm sorry." He breathed out. He scanned your face waiting for you to speak. You shook your head, you didn't look at him but you spoke.
"yeah you're sorry, but you really hurt me. I wish I was never, that's fucked up and it hurts so much. If you never wanted to marry me why did you?"
You turned to Chris, tears threatening to spill over. The look on your face hurted Chris, he fucked up big time and he knew it.
"no, I didn't mean that, I swear. I love you more than anything. I don't regret marrying you, it was just a stupid mistake... I'm sorry baby."
Tears were starting to form in chris' eye. He felt guilty, he knew no amount of words could fix what he done but he was sorry more than anything.
"you promise?" You looked at him. Your lips were trembling Because of your crying.
"I promise." Chris said. He cupped your cheek with his hand. He placed a light kiss on your nose, but it wasn't enough for you. You went way too long without kissing him, you weren't going to waste another second not.
You grabbed his chin kissing him. Somehow his chap lips felt soft. They felt like home to you, you missed them so much.
You pulled away looking back at Chris. "I have something I need to tell you." You said fiddling with his hands.
"I'm pregnant."
Chris gave you a sour look, you already knew why. "You know?" Chris nodded, "the doctor called. they have an appointment for you, they want you to call them back to tell you."
You exhaled, "well... Surprise." You laughed making Chris smile. He missed that sound. He's been gone for so many nights he totally forgot how it sounded.
"can I come to the next appointment?" Chris pouted his lip making you laugh. "Of course you can. You need to your little peanut. I'm thinking it's a boy"
Chris frowned, "no I'm pretty sure it's a girl."
"you haven't seen them yet." You said to him Rolling your eyes playfully. "I know but I want another princess."
"touche."
--
It's not that good but thank you for reading. I had fun breaking y'all hurts on the first part lol
@chris-butt @patzammit @bval-1 @raveviolet @mrsbbarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captianamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @katiew1973 @andreasworlsboring101 @skepticnovak @funfickgirl22 @hxnesthxneybee @christhickevans @melchills-j @franchesca-791 @moonlacebeam @wallowsgirl14 @areamir
@thevelvetseries @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl34 @a-moment-captured @shookbeech @pamelalur15 @llamaproblem @jessyballet @hazeljean2 @ohbarracuda @mrspeacem1nusone @n3ssm0nique @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @chrisevanisliterallysir @beautiful--blessing @coldmuffinpartycloud @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest @writingmeow29 @corrinez
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You Are In Love (M.YG)
Warnings : mentions of cheating
Word Count : 2149
Synopsis : while laying in bed, she realizes she’s in love with min yoongi
When my eyes opened, I was met with my boyfriend’s sleeping face, and a smile spread across mine. His arm was lazily draped across my body, unlike the tight hold he had on me when we had fallen asleep the previous night. Watching him sleep peacefully like this, I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I am to call him mine. “What are you looking at?” He grumbled in his morning voice, his eyes slowly opening to meet mine.
           “The most handsome man in the world.” I whispered, leaning up to kiss his nose. He scrunched his face before pouting, saying I missed the obvious target and pulling me in for a sweet kiss. When we pulled away and I met his eyes again, his hand moving to brush some hair out of my face, I was hit with the sudden realization that I was in love with him. I knew I was falling; I’d been falling for him since we started dating. But being with him like this feels so domestic, and I want to wake up to his face every day for the rest of my life.
           “Coffee for the pretty lady.” Yoongi smiled as he sat across from me, placing both our drinks on the table between us. I thanked him and reiterated that he didn’t have to pay for me. “Let me be a gentleman.” He pouted and I giggled, completely giving into him.
           I was so nervous, playing with my hands in my lap as we talked and got to know each other better. But as the date went on, I found myself laughing more and becoming more comfortable with him. After we finished our coffees, we decided to take a walk around and enjoy the nice weather. At one point, he had slipped his hand into mine, smiling down at me when I looked over to him. “I like holding hands.” He said simply, his gummy smile on full display.
           “Me too.” I tightened my grip on his hand, and we continued walking around like that, telling each other stories of our lives, and just enjoying each other’s company.
           I met Yoongi through a mutual friend, Jung Hoseok, and there was a connection almost immediately. He was a bit distant at first, and I later found out through Hoseok, and then Yoongi, that it was because he found me pretty and got nervous around me. It took him almost three months to ask me on our first date, and then another month to make us official.
           “For you.” He said with a nervous smile as he handed me the plush he had won at the game at the fair. A blush rose to my cheeks and I accepted it, thanking him. “Those games are rigged, but I really wanted to win you something.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as we slowly walked by all the concessions.
           “You’re cute.” I told him, causing him to stop walking. I stopped a couple steps ahead of him, and turned to face him, a look of confusion on my face. He just stared at me in silence, a small smile dancing across his lips that slowly grew into his wide, gummy smile that I adored.
           “You think so?” He chuckled, taking the two steps towards me, and slipping his hand into mine as we continued walking.
           “I know so.” I countered as I started swinging our arms back and forth, looking around at all the lights that seemed to brighten the darkening day. We made our way to the ferris wheel, completing our fair date night with a cliché. I looked out at all the lights, and watched as couples wandered around hand in hand, much like Yoongi and I.
           “Can I kiss you?” His question caught me off guard, and I looked at him with widened eyes, before giggling at his question.
           “You’ve kissed me before; you don’t need to ask.” I told him, and he wasted no time; cupping my face and crashing his lips to mine as if he would die otherwise.
           “Just let me be a gentleman.” He said softly after he pulled away, his hands still cupping my face as he rested his forehead against mine. The ride quickly came to an end, and we decided to call it a night.
           We held hands as he drove me home, his thumb running over my knuckles subconsciously. The ride was silent save for the soft music playing from the radio, but the silence was comfortable. When we made it to my apartment, he walked me to the door like he always does, but he seemed really nervous this time. I thanked him for a fun night and gave him a quick kiss goodnight. “Y/N.” He called before I could open the door, and I turned to face him. “Be my girlfriend.” He spit out quickly and my eyes widened. “I mean, uh, would you want to be my girlfriend?” He started kicking his feet and rubbing the back of his neck, and I couldn’t help but smile.
           “I’d love to, Yoongs.” I walked towards him, lazily wrapping my arms around his neck, and bringing him in for a sweet kiss.
           “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch with Hoseok?” He asked and I nodded, asking him if he could pick me up. “It would be my pleasure.” He kissed me one more time before heading home.
           Hoseok wasn’t surprised when we told him we were dating, having to deal with our pining for months. He would act as if he hated being the third wheel but was actually really happy we both were happy. He’s taken so many photos of us it’s almost like he’s our own personal photographer.
           “God you two are disgustingly cute.” Hoseok rolled his eyes as he walked into Yoongi’s kitchen, Yoongi behind me with his arms wrapped around me as we cooked together. Neither one of us moved from our position, and Hoseok snapped a couple pictures. He definitely wasn’t complaining when he dug into the food and ate most of it, going on about how delicious it was.
           “It was made with love.” Yoongi smiled, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
           “Wow I cannot wait until you two are out of the honeymoon phase.” He quipped, but I could see the small smile on his face as he watched his two best friends fall in love.
           Before meeting Yoongi, I believed I wasn’t meant to find love. Everyone I liked and dated seemed to treat me like shit; toss me aside for something better. I was scared Yoongi would do it as well, but he’s proven over and over again that he’s in this for the long run. And as I lay here in bed, staring into his eyes, realizing that he’s the love of my life, I can picture him at the end of the aisle, smiling as I walk towards him.
           “Y/N! What a small world.” Mark exclaimed, pulling me in for an awkward hug. “This is Jennie, my fiancée.” I looked down at her ring finger, seeing a beautiful diamond ring adorning it. “This is Y/N, my ex. She’s chill people though.” He said to Jennie. I smiled at her, extending my hand for her to shake. She did so with little hesitation. Yoongi slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he looked at the couple in front of us.
           “This is Yoongi, my boyfriend.” I told Mark, smiling up at Yoongi who was already looking at me with a smile. “This is Mark.” The two of them shook hands, and the four of us stood around for a couple of minutes before I excused us so we could go greet the man of the hour. “I forgot he and Jackson were friends.” I told Yoongi, trying to calm my pounding heart.
           “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Yoongi immediately led me to the closest chair, sitting me down and kneeling in front of me. He placed his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature while looking at me with concern in his eyes. I grabbed his hand from my forehead, holding it in my hand as I told him I was okay.
           “Mark’s the guy I told you about. The one who doesn’t do marriage. The one who was cheating on me; with Jennie.” He cupped my face with his hands, wiping away the tears I didn’t know fell.
           “Well honestly, that’s his loss. You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. And because he was an idiot, I get to show you what true love looks like.” He ended his small speech with a small kiss. “Now, what do you say we go wish Jackson a happy birthday and then sneak away and go see that movie you wanted to see?” I smiled and nodded, taking his hand as we both stood up and made our way to Jackson.
           Yoongi was right. We just celebrated our 6 months last night, and I’ve felt more loved during these last 6 months than I did the 2 years I was with Mark. Yoongi always reminds me how much he cares about me, how beautiful he finds me. Not a day goes by without him reminding me. I was so sure I was going to marry Mark, but in this moment, I know that was just a silly dream, a wish. But marrying Yoongi, I can picture it. I want to spend the rest of my life showing Yoongi all the love he’s shown me, and then some.
           Come outside. His text read, and I didn’t even think twice about throwing on some clothes and meeting him outside. The sun had long set, and the stars littered the sky. There was only a small breeze ruining an otherwise perfect night.
           Yoongi was standing beside his car when I got outside, a wide smile spreading across his face when he saw me. I practically jumped into his arms, giving him a quick kiss. “You make it seem like you haven’t seen me in ages.” He joked; his arms still wrapped around me.
           “I haven’t seen you in 2 days. That is forever!” I jokingly exclaimed, throwing my head back to further make my point. A chuckle escaped his lips, and I absolutely loved the sound. I have since the first time I heard it. I could listen to it on repeat all day and not get bored.
           “You know what, you’re absolutely right. 2 days is far too long without you, angel.” He leaned in for another kiss, one I happily returned. “Shall we go?” He asked, pointing to his car, and I nodded, even though I had no idea what he had planned. I trusted him.
           He had driven us to an open field and laid a blanket down. “I wanted to star gaze with you.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.
           “You really are too cute, Min Yoongi.” We laid beside each other, and I listened as he pointed out different constellations to me. He would tell me the stories about them, and I would hang onto every word.
           “And that one right there, that’s Y/N Y/L/N.” My eyes widened as I looked at him, sitting up quickly. He sat up too, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket, unfolding it, and showing it to me. “As of today, there is a star named after you. Because you are my star.”
           “You really just went and named a star after me.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Just take my whole heart, Min Yoongi. I don’t even want it back.” He chuckled, wiping away the tears that fell.
           “If I could buy you the entire world, I would.” He told me. And I know he would.
           “You are my world, Yoongs.” I admitted to him. And that’s when he pulled me in for the most passionate kiss I’ve ever felt. And it didn’t end there. It ended later that night, in my bed, soft moans in the air as we slept together for the first time.
           As I laid beside him, recounting all my memories with him, I realized I’d been in love with him the entire time. For me, there wasn’t going to be anyone else. Min Yoongi was it for me. “What are you thinking so hard about, love?” He said softly, a small smile on his face.
           “How absolutely, irrevocably in love I am with you, Min Yoongi.” I admitted and watched as his small smile grew. “I’ve always been in love with you.” I continued.
           “I am so in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.” He chuckled. “And I’m going to show you that every day for as long as you’ll have me.”
           “I was thinking forever.”
           “Forever sounds good.” Forever sounds perfect.
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violettelueur · 3 years
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GOJO SATORU || BECOME A REAL COUPLE
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| featuring : gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen
| warnings : grammar errors other than that n/a
| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)
| word count : 2700
| published : 05 december 
| request : Hi hiiii!! I saw that your requests were open again :) I would like to order a black coffee please! a fake dating → feelings realisation where (fem) reader is from one of the big 3 clans and is pressured into finding a SO by her clan. So Gojo offers to fake date her; meeting her parents etc. Only for them both to realise that they ended up falling for each other. Would love to see how you determine the way they handle it and confess for real. Thank you!! Love all your work so far x
| barista’s notes : can i be completely honest with you? this little piece isn’t really my best ʕ ゚ ● ゚ʔ even though it’s only been 2 days but i already feel like my writing skills have disappeared ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but other than that, thank you so much for loving all my work ʕ•ᴥ•ʔノ♡ i really hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!
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“You have to get married soon Y/N! You’re 27 and we have no heir for the Kamo clan!”
“Didn’t I leave the clan 10 years ago? There is no way I’m going to listen to someone like you nor my child is forced to become a jujutsu sorcerer, and what makes this more irritating is that you came all the way to my workplace to tell me this,” you snapped back at the man in front of you, before turning around trying to walk away from the situation. However, it seemed like the old man wasn’t going to give in to the situation or to the rejection of your answer, he was stubborn - just like you were, after all, that was the only thing you inherited from that man.
“Y/N! I am your father and I demand you to listen to me!”
“Shut up!” you shouted before turning to look over your shoulder. The man that stood there pride and arrogance running through his veins - something that you didn’t inherit, fortunately. There was no way you could call this man your father. The same ‘father’ that criticized you for not having the same blood manipulation like the rest of the family - well that’s what he gets for being with a woman from a different clan that had a different curse technique that you inherited - an outcast, that was what you were within the Kamo clan, yet they still demanded you to get married and have a child to keep the lineage going. There was no way in hell you were going to follow their rules.
“What a disgusting father you are, no wonder mother left you,” you commented with a smirk before continuing to walk away to go back to where you were heading. On the other hand, it seemed like someone else wanted to disturb your plans.
“Y/N~”
                                     ꕥ
At this current moment in time, you were standing in front of one of the very few vending machines that were located within Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College wondering what you were going to choose since you were still undecided. Cold Water? Milk tea? Coffee? Maybe a carbonated fruit drink to satisfy your sweet tooth? You weren’t so sure.
“Have you put money in the machine yet honey~?” someone asked you from behind, causing you to quickly turn around to see a tall white-haired figure standing before you with a teasing smile painted upon his face.
“Satoru? Ah...no I haven’t” you muttered as you scratched your cheek with your finger, trying to occupy yourself with something to not look at him. “Let me pay for you then,” Gojo then offered as he reached over to the side, accidentally brushing his arm - causing you to tense up - before he placed some of his coins within the slot to add some currency into the machine before you could even deny his offer.
“I could pay for myself you know, and we’re alone, you don’t have to act,” you stated before sighing in defeat, as you turned back around to decide what you were going to choose once again. “I know,” Gojo commented back to you before gently placing his chin upon your shoulder, leading you to tense up once again from the physical contact before slowing relaxing, “but what type of boyfriend would be I if I didn’t treat you a little?”.
‘Well fake boyfriend Satoru’
                                        ꕥ
“Your family pressuring you again?” Satoru cheerfully asked as he walked beside you, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere from the conversation that you had with your ‘father’ just a few seconds ago.
“More like the Kamo clan than the L/N clan, get married this, get married that. Is that all I am good for? Marriage? Augh, I just need them to leave me alone, I left for a damn reason,” you ranted as you put your hands in your pockets, restraining yourself from punching something to let out some steam.
“How about I date you then?” Gojo suddenly asked, leading you to look at him with the most wide-eyed expression like he had just said something completely stupid - to which he did - but before you could even augre what he just stated, Gojo quickly began to explain what he meant by his little statement. “What I mean is let’s fake that we’re dating, we deceive everyone that we’re together and the Kamo clan will finally leave you alone once they realise that you are in a relationship with someone from the Gojo clan aka me, they can’t augre with that,”.
Still looking at your colleague with a dumbfounded expression, you turned your head to look in front of you before thinking about what he had just suggested. What Gojo stated to you was somewhat a clever idea. The Kamos family was obsessed with bloodlines and for you to be with Gojo means that they would foolishly believe they can become more powerful. Even though you didn’t physically inherit the blood manipulation curse technique, you still had in somewhere in your veins due to your father meaning they would believe they still have a chance for a powerful heir. However, that would mean you have to announce this to the clan as well as your mother’s clan - which wasn’t much of an issue for her side - it was just too much effort for a fake relationship.
“Satoru that is so much effort, you’re going to have to meet the Kamo clan then,” you commented, after realising the pros and cons of this little ordeal. “I know, but once we end this little fakery of a relationship, they don’t have to know, you don’t have to report your every move to them, remember you left,” Gojo explained back, leading to any worries that you had manifesting to instantly fade away with the wind. 
Taking one last sigh, you turned back to him and nodded. “Fine, let’s fake date Satoru,” you finally declared before taking your hand out in front of him for a handshake, leading to the powerful shaman to take hold of your hand before firmly shaking it, “okay fake-girlfriend! Leave it to me,”
                                ꕥ
Sitting in front of your dad across a table was something you never wished on your worst enemy, you hated that you were back in the four walls that you had escaped from many years ago. However, for some odd reason, when Gojo was by your side, you felt completely safe.
“Since when did this little association between the both of you come to play?” your father asked in a suspicious tone as he eyed both you and Gojo - yet, knowing how greedy your father was for power, you could tell he was delighted at the fact you were ‘together’ with the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer. 
“Ah~ We have been together since our last year at Jujutsu Tech,” Gojo explained as he turned to look at you with a cheeky smile on his face to which you smiled back at him, trying to keep up with the facade of being a fake couple. “And you didn’t inform me this Y/N?” your father then asked to which then you explained, “well, I did leave the clan a year after that, so I had the right to no inform you. After all, I’m not your daughter like you stated beforehand,” 
Angered by your sudden statement, your father immediately slammed his hand on the desk as if the statement wasn’t true at all. “I demanded you to come back, I demanded you to respect the name of the Kamo Clan and this is how you taint it,” you father roared in fury, causing Gojo to put an arm out in front of you as if he was protecting you from anything that could happen to cause you to look at him in shock.
“Technically, Y/N didn’t even taint your name, she took their mother’s, so you’re in the wrong here, don’t do something that you will regret,” Gojo sinisterly threatened the man that was in front of both on you, before taking your hand in his as a way to comfort you - surprising you once again from his actions, yet for some reason, you gripped on his hand somewhat conveying him that you were thankful for him standing up for you.
                                      ꕥ
“Ah Miss Y/N, did you come to see your mother?” a maid asked in a surprised tone, once she noticed that you came out of your designated room with you adjusting your red obi sash around your waist as your wore your family’s kimono, white was light in colour embroidered with the minimalist design of flowers and butterflies - giving you a somewhat soft feminine look, contrasting the portrayal of your character somewhat.
“You know you don’t have to put the ‘Miss’ in front of my name, and I do apologise for the sudden visit, I forgot to inform you all,” you told the maid with a gentle smile, leading to the maid to smile at you back before you then continued with, “Ah, I did come to meet my mother, but have you seen Satoru? Like a tall man with white hair, who is also wearing sunglasses,”. However, before the maid could answer your question.
“Y/N~”
Turning around, you found Gojo walking towards you with your mother by his side, causing you to freeze in shock as you didn’t expect him to go to your mother without you. “I thought we agreed to greet my mother together Satoru,” you commented as you pointed your index finger at him to emphasise your point, only for him to smile at you cheekily before scanning his eyes up and down at your new outfit. “You do look beautiful in your kimono though, is this what you wear when you come back home?” Gojo then asked, to which you nodded at his question - trying to ignore your pending blush being slowly painted in your cheeks - before you quickly greeted your mother, who was watching from the sideline.
“Good Afternoon mom, I apologise for coming to visit you so suddenly,” you said to her, to which your mother softly smiled at you before cupping your cheeks in her hands. “There is no need to apologise, I’m happy that you came back home since you are so busy back at the school, but also I’m happy that your boyfriend introduced himself to me, he is quite a different character must I say,” she commented with a light laugh, causing you to turn to him wondering what he had said to her, only for him to put up a peace sign as if that would answer your wondering thoughts. Although, before you could even vocalise your confusion, your mother linked her arms with yours before guiding you down the corridor to welcome you home.
“I can tell he really cares about you Y/N,” your mother stated, causing you to look at her with a perplexed expression to which she then smiled back at you before beckoning Gojo to follow the both of you to invite him for some sweets and tea that were being prepared.
‘If only you knew mom, if you only knew how much I care about him as well even though this isn’t real’
                                      ꕥ
“You’ve been staring at the canned latte for some time, do you want that one?” 
Suddenly, you instantly snapped out of your thoughts - not realising that you were in a daze - causing you to then immediately click on the button indicating on the mentioned drink. “Ah, sorry I was just wondering if I should go with the strong or light one,” you then answered, trying to hide the fact you were looking back on the moments that you had with Gojo.
“Are you okay?” Gojo then asked as he removed his chin from your shoulder, letting you crouch down to grab the coffee from the dispenser before collecting the coins from the other dispenser to give back to Gojo, only for him to shake his hand and say, “if you need another drink, you can use it,”
‘Is that why he put extra in?’
“Are you sure?” you quietly ask, only for the cheeky shaman to nod his head before he deciding to walk with you to wherever you were heading off too. “Like I said before, what type of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t spoil you a bit?” Gojo then asked once again, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.
“You know we’re not really dating right? We are a fake couple,” you mentioned, as you opened the can of coffee to take a sip after reminding him about the little plan that the both of you came up with to avoid the whole ‘marriage’ drama from the Kamo clan.
However, you didn’t hear an answer from your friend. Only pure silence surrounded the both of you, causing you to be perplexed on why you didn’t instantly hear a sassy comment back from the shaman, leading you to pause and turn your head to the side, only to see the man look at you dead in the eyes with his crystal blue ones.
‘Since when did he?’
“What if I don’t wanna be a fake boyfriend anymore?” Gojo questioned you with an uncharacteristic serious tone, causing you to look at him in bewilderment before quickly coming to the conclusion that he was probably teasing you.
“You mean you want to end this facade? If you want we can, there is kind of no point in continuing this little act,” you replied, as you took a sip of the caffeinated drink causing you to gain a little bit of energy in a short amount of time.
“Y/N, I’m being serious, I don’t want to be your fake-boyfriend anymore, I want this to be real,” Gojo then declared, causing you to suddenly choke on the liquid in shock before letting out a coughing fit as you tried to clear your throat leading to Gojo patting your back to help you out.
“Ha?” you then expressed, not sure on how to react to his declaration as you tried to look for any deception in his eyes. “Oh you are being serious Satoru,” you then commented to which then he nodded as if he didn’t already convince you that he hadn’t already.
Quickly looking away from the man, you were trying to hide the rose hues that slowly was coming upon your face. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. You thought you were alone on this. Ever since that moment when you and Gojo met your father, you always wanted to stay by his side, you felt like you were important, you felt safe, you felt warm. 
It was like what your mother explained to you when you were young, ‘don’t make the same mistake as me Y/N, when you find someone you want to be with, make sure they make you feel safe and protect and not just the ‘butterflies in your stomach feeling’, I want you to feel loved and important, I’m so sorry for putting you through this’
“Y/N, come on say something, I’m not a nervous guy but this is something else you know,” Gojo pleaded as he wasn’t really enjoying the long silence that was going on around both you and him, only for you to suddenly grip his dark blue jacket before pulling him closer to press your face upon his chest as if you were still trying to hide but somewhat trying to express some confidence in what you were planning to do.
“Are you absolutely being serious ?” you then asked, once again asking how serious he was being.
“Absolutely serious,” Gojo then replied as he placed his large hand on the top of your head before caressing your hair, trying to comfort you from your embarrassment.
“Then I don’t wanna be your fake girlfriend anymore….please,” you then murmured as you gripped his jacket more tightly as you confessed your long time thoughts, only to suddenly feel a peck being placed on the crown of your head.
“Of course honey~ let’s become a real couple”
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dourpeep · 3 years
Note
OKAY time for a college au!!
You 3 know each other from before college
You and kazuha were seating next to each other during your first year of high school you became close enough to greet each other whenever you guys pass by each other
And you and Xiao were best friends from kindergarten to 2 grade but unfortunately you had to move suddenly you two tried to keep contact but the two of you made new friends and kinda lost contact with each other
So when you go to college you meet kazuha at the front desk when you're trying to get your schedule and yall are like "omg I'm so happy to see someone that I know here!" and when you guys check your schedules it turns out that the two of you have the same class during the first period
And you're like "we've got 30 minutes wanna go grab a cup of coffee and get lost together?" and kazu knows that you playfully flirt with your friends so he jokingly says "are you asking me out for a date? Because if you are then I accept!" and you guys talk on the way to class and the two of you barely make it on time
Class ends and you're sad to say goodbye to the only person you know on campus but then all of a sudden he hits you with a "by the way can I have your number?" so you two exchange numbers
Later you're going to your last class and it turns out that this class doesn't have many people you go sit in the back and someone comes up to you and is like "can I sit next to you? " you say yes obviously
But the thing is... there is something very familiar about this guy and you just can't put your finger on it so you kind of stare at him without realizing it
Of course he noticed how hard you've been staring at him and turns around and is like "what? Is there something on my face?" that's when it finally clicks
And you're just like "XIAO??! IS THAT REALLY YOU?!!" but the teacher comes in so you two can't really talk
But the moment class ends you tell him who you are and take a few minutes to catch up
Though I say catch up it was mostly you teasing him saying shit like "I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!" (he's starting to think that maybe he should have sat somewhere else)
So you're like "hey how we go actually catch up I've got some coupons for this café I went to this morning with a friend"
He doesn't have a reason to say no so he just accepts the invitation
When you guys get there who do you meet? KAZUHA! This man actually works there!
When you see him you're like "kazuha why didn't you tell me that you work here?" but he pretends not to know you and is like "oh? Well who might this fine customer be?" you can tell he's joking by the way he's trying not to laugh so you decide to play along
Poor Xiao is starting to regret coming with you (but don't worry he got 2 plates of almond tofu as an apology)
-no primogems (I'll make another part later where you 3 become roommates)
YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS-
dhfaeiahe I realize now that I should've just posted this as is since I wasn't planning on adding to this but might as well add in some thoughts I've had about this lovely trio eh??? tbh I didn't add much I just slipped in a few little things hehe
Can you guess the roomates?? Also the bio professor is Albedo ehe
Anyway!!
Considering it's the first semester of college, you haven't yet decided on your major. Luckily, you have quite a few general education classes to take, so you register all in one night.
You'll have the time to figure it all out as time goes by, no?
The rest of summer is spent juggling moving into the campus' dorms, working, and keeping up with some friends from high school. While you've kept contact with a few friends, you definitely kicked yourself in the ass for forgetting to ask Kazuha for his number...how could you forget one of your best friends?
But, you suppose that he's far off in a whole other city with his wish to experience more. You can't help but wonder what he's up to.
Then, the first day of classes starts.
How did you not figure out where everything is first? Instead of moping, you trudge to the administrative building early to ask for directions and, even better, a map of the large campus.
Instead, you find a familiar head of cream-colored hair.
Immediately, you gasp and he turns around in confusion, only for a soft smile to spread over his features. It's only been a summer but it's a relief to see that you know another person. Comparing schedules, he points out that you both have Communications 1301 together.
For once, you're glad you have to take these mandatory courses...
But with an abundance of time (as Kazuha just so happens to know where the class is), he accepts your jokingly firtatious proposal to head to the cafe just across campus to grab a morning drink.
It's hardly been long since you've last spoken to him, but there's still so much to talk about! It turns out he opted to rent out a small studio apartment just a few blocks away from campus! Naturally, he invites you over sometime.
He's also admitted that he decided to major in English--something you're not surprised to hear. After all, Kazuha's a natural at the subject, exceeding the assignments and always so eloquent.
If you recall correctly, he used to tote around a little notebook full of little musings and poetry during high school. You wonder if he still does that.
You talk about how you've just moved into the dorms a week ago, how you're lucky to be rooming with two musically inclined (if not a bit rowdy) people. You're sure that he'd take a liking to them once everything is calmed down a bit. Kazuha just raises a brow in half-doubt.
Before you know it, it's been an hours and, to your horror, your first class starts in five minutes. Not to mention that it was back closer to the admin building and you were on the opposite side of campus.
But it's still fun, Kazuha laughing as you jolt up and tug him to stand, the two of you running to get to class on time. With heaving breaths and flushed faces, you make it just a few minutes late. Luckily, your professor didn't mind because it was the first day...
Following class, you have to make your way to Bio 1301, Kazuha having a major-specific English course to get to. Before you can speak, though, he offers his phone to you. It's newer than his old flip phone you'd tease him about all the time, the screen clean save for a few stray fingerprints.
After you put in your number, he beams and quickly sends you a call so you can have his too.
"Call me after you're done with classes, alright?"
You promise to and the two of you set off.
Biology proves to be uneventful, a full hour and a half of the (rather attractive) professor going over what to expect as well as passing out lab waiver forms. A necessary precaution, he said with a reserved sigh. You wonder what happened.
When the hour ends, you have some time before World History, followed by a Trigonometry course.
By the time you find your trig class, most of the seats are already taken, making that feeling of dread fill the pit of your stomach. Nothing is worse than being forced to take whatever seat is left. But, noticing a seat by the windows, it's not so bad.
You're in the back, though, settling your bag beneath your chair and picking out a pen and schedule book.
At some point, someone walks in and asks if the seat in front of you is taken. You don't bother to look up long as you fish out a notebook, letting him know it's free.
As class goes on, you realize that the guy in front of you most likely hasn't been paying attention. Considering that the professor has been rehashing stuff from Algebra...you're not surprised. But something about his dark hair catches your eye. Not to mention his striking gold eyes...hm.
It's not until you catch his profile as he stares out the window that it clicks.
"Xiao."
His eyes dart to look at you, a confused look washing over his face. You repeat his name.
"Yes?"
Part of him is just about ready to leave as recognition floods your expression, smile wide. How could you possibly---
"I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!"
The tips of his ears turn red fast, something that you remember very well about him, and his gaze quickly flicks over to the professor still dragging on. When gold settles back on you, they're practically begging for you to lower your voice.
"It's been forever--I can't believe that you-"
"If you're going to talk, do it outside of class."
Ah. Oopsie.
Time seems to drag on while you buzz in your seat, excited to see your childhood friend after loosing contact. You've missed him over the years, always wondering what happened to him, how he's been. And finally, when class ends, he gets up and waits for you.
Naturally, you want to catch up, so you invite him to go to the cafe with you for a late lunch.
"You still like almond tofu right? It's all you used to eat when we were little." Laughing, you nudge his shoulder and the color returns to his cheeks as he mumbles a yes.
When you step into the cafe, a familiar voice greets you.
"If I knew a cute customer would be coming, I would've gone on break."
Kazuha leans on the counter, mirth in his eyes and you gasp. It makes sense now, why he's so well acquainted with the campus and why he'd already known what to order when you arrived for drinks-
"What can I get for you today?"
"Your number."
Xiao's face pales at the blatant flirting, wondering if he should've just declined the invitation to the cafe until the two of you burst into laughter. Though, it's hardly better.
"Sorry, sorry- This is Kazuha, one of my friends from high school. Kazuha, this is my childhood best friend Xiao."
With a day so filled with nice coincidences, you doubt that life can get any better than this.
Oh, how wrong you'd be.
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seokahwrites · 3 years
Text
NUISANCE | chapter 2 (or, i hate him so much my heart skipped a beat)
5.6k
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back to nuisance masterlist
pairing.
| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader
summary.
| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good.
tags.
| 2 BROOKLYN 99 REFERENCES TELL ME IF U CATCH THEM; paragraphs dedicated to jungkooks back muscles; im so sorry like a few parts were really thirsty; but there’s a very sweet paragraph dedicated to jungkook’s smile; reader and jungkook bonding???; jealous reader; smug jungkook; love sounds like hate; a lot of plot convenience if you haven’t noticed
a/n.
| hello everyone! first off THANK U FOR THE MASSIVE SUPPORT ILY. i feel like this could’ve been better but i’m not sure how. but no they’re not moving too fast bc… well 😃😃 also i’m planning on writing more serious pieces after this series even though i’ve barely started :P anyways, i hope u all have an amazing day lots of love
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“What kind of neanderthal doesn’t go outside for two days?
Jungkook asks through the open bathroom door as he’s sitting on his couch, your mouth still too foamy and minty to give him a quick-witted answer.
You spit into the sink and glare at him through the mirror, “I was being productive and I cooked horrible food all day,” you splash water on your face and pause at the door frame on your way out, “Unlike some people that spend their hours hunting for their next prey.”
You don’t stick around to watch the way he rolls his eyes, walking over to your bed to grab the orange wrap skirt and white top for today’s outfit. But you couldn’t really put it on since someone was still in the room.
There isn’t an inkling of a thought in Jungkook’s doe eyes, the time it was taking for him to get a hint was more than enough for you to pass your eyes over his black tank top, stinky green shorts and dark sandals. How did he look better than you in a tank top? Fuck him. Wait, no he doesn’t. Still, fuck Jungkook.
Once your eyes are back on him, the fiend has a shit-eating grin on his face as if he’d just caught you red-handed in the middle of a dirty sin — you were just judging him.
You raise your eyebrows in an attempt to maintain your composure, “Well?” And wave the clothes in your hands to help him understand the situation.
No sound comes from the ‘Oh’ of his lips, his small brain finally coming to terms with reality. But just before he heads out the door, “We’re having lunch at the deck,” and he doesn’t wait for an answer, slamming the door behind him.
Who the hell did he think he was?
Now, you didn't have to go along with Jungkook’s plan — hell, it was probably the last thing you wanted. However, does going to the rooftop deck to have a nice lunch and a-little-too-early drinks really sound like a bad idea?
And the answer to that question is what led you to pulling your clothes over your head and reassuring nobody but yourself that, “I’m only going because of the fucking food,” cursing Jungkook here and there too, of course.
Just before heading off, you grab the cruise’s complementary sun hat, a long string of pastel beads for your neck and your favorite pair of sunglasses — not that you were going to use them for more than keeping your hair away from your face anyways.
Breathe in, Y/N.
You’re out the door, “I’m ready.”
Your exposed skin stings as you feel Jungkook’s eyes go from your leg exposed from the slit of your skirt, to your fluttering stomach and slowly — as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail — up, up, up, until his gaze meets yours. And that look is back, the one he’s only ever used whenever he couldn’t hide what he truly felt for you: aversion.
Yet, instead of the slander you were expecting, Jungkook does nothing but shake away whatever was on his mind and lock the door. Beep, And he goes the entire way to the elevator without uttering a single word.
Still, even if the silence was deafening you don't make much of a fuss, only observing Jungkook’s silent figure as he stared ahead and around anywhere he wouldn't have to meet your eyes.
He was a pain in the ass even when he wasn't speaking.
Ding.
You’re the first to exit, part because you were excited to get a breath of fresh ocean air and part because you couldn’t stand whatever the hell was happening in the elevator.
There were half naked people everywhere, kids running around and chasing after each other through the zig zag of chairs and tables. From the wooden floor to the samples of blue and yellow on the umbrellas, cups and slides, the view was the very core of vacation.
Jungkook suddenly stands before your wide eyes and takes you by the wrist, taking the lead as he shoves his way to the stairs that lead to the highly-expected rooftop restaurant, the place safely guarded on the opposite side of all the commotion.
As your sandals flip-flopped against the wooden stairs, you start to see a flood of blue and beige chaise lounges, white coffee tables centered in the space of each one and the alabaster bar surrounded by people in all sorts of summer attire. Maybe Jungkook was onto something.
Speaking of, he grabs your shoulders — ruining the view as always — and pushes you down the first empty couch he finds. “Stay here, I’ll get us some food.”
You don't fight him on it, deciding to just let the sea breeze caress your face, closing your eyes and taking it all in. Things were nice.
That is until you look at the entrance and see Jungkook talking to the same raven-haired girl from yesterday. The sight bothers you and you can’t quite put your finger on as to why, perhaps it was because he could’ve at least had the fucking decency to not hit on people while he was ordering your food. God. Only he could put a stain to an otherwise perfect morning.
And you could’ve looked away, but just as a bee is attracted to pollen or a driver is allured with the sight of a car crash, you simply couldn’t — not that you were attracted or allured to Jungkook in any way, though.
The woman’s cotton cover up flowed with her hand as she playfully hit Jungkook on the arm. You envy her, you’d never touched an implant before. Jungkook crosses his arms at this movement, probably thinking his biceps were going to pop out even more. Your body threatens to convulse in second hand embarrassment.
But the lovebirds are interrupted when the cashier calls out for Jungkook, his order ready and trayed up. You look away and could only hope it was just in time for none of them to notice that you were ogling, but Jungkook’s mystery girl catches your stare and her angelic smile dissipates in front of your eyes. Chills, literal chills.
You feign surprise when Jungkook sits beside you, placing the tray of colorful drinks and drool-worthy pasta on the table with a clang.
“I hope the mimosas are a good enough treat for your highness,” he bows his head.
You can’t repress your squeal nor your smile as the glass meets your lips and you have a real summer drink for the first time in forever, the girl’s glare fading with every sip you take. Jungkook simply watches, amused when you down half of the drink in one go.
You’re content, only with a simple worry in your mind. “What time is it?”
Luckily Jungkook had brought a watch on his wrist, your phones long forgotten on the nightstand, “One something,” he grabbed both plates, handing over yours, “Why? Gotta run away from me again?”
You try to scoop as much chicken, sauce and pasta as you can twirl on your fork, practically salivating once you're munching down the food. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Jungkook crosses a leg over the other as he eats the chicken from his own plate, “What are you up to today?”
Huh. You asked yourself the same thing. “I actually have no idea,” you admit, “I just saw the words massage and wine and thought ‘I have to go’.”
“Of course,” and he doesn’t sound the least bit surprised — or judgemental, at that. “You did the same exact thing at the last firm getaway.”
Your hand flies to your mouth, “Oh, God. Why would you remind me,” Jungkook is slapping his knee at a miserable attempt of stifling his laughter, “Nothing will ever compare to the misery of being surrounded by a bunch of sobbing tipsy widows.”
His laugh only booms alive and you try to convince yourself that it scratches your ears, but it doesn’t and you find yourself giggling as well. What the hell was in that mimosa?
“God, youre such a fucking idiot.”
“Lower your voice, boozer,” you slap his thigh — hurting you much more than him — and catch a few glares in your direction.
Jungkook drinks his entire glass, “Eh, screw them,” not sparing a second thought to the strangers, “Are you heading to the fifth floor again?”
The alfredo pasta in your plate has been reduced to nothing, “Yeah, why?”
“I’m heading that way too.”
You snort — you know, like a wild boar. “Gonna meet up with yesterday’s catch?”
He has a conceited smile on his face and you fear the next words to come out his mouth, “Maybe,” he places his plate on his lap and leans closer to you, his breath tickling your ear, “Jealous much?”
Scoff.
You push him away, drinking the rest of your orange juice. Scoff (again). You’ve never met someone so egotistical. How dare he?
“Don’t act like being seduced by an incubus like you is such a big deal,” you hope to poison him with your words but he only bites down a sweet smile, “And it’s not like she’s seen anything that I haven’t in the past two nights.”
Goddammit, Y/N. Where the fuck did that come from?
Jungkook drapes an arm over the couch, “Someone’s been enjoying the view.”
You try your best to scowl at the demon, but when your eyes accidentally tarry on Jungkook’s collarbones and arms — why is it always the fucking arms? — for a few moments too long, red paints your cheeks instead and you simply fiddle with your empty glass.
Jungkook’s victory weighs heavy on the lifted corners of his lips as you wait for him to finish the rest of his food — he ate like a five year old.
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“This is where I leave you, I guess.”
The walk to the fifth floor was a quick one, you and Jungkook standing in front of the familiar entrance, that same chalkboard from yesterday scribbled with roses this time.
A woman is the one welcoming you at the door today, the same list and my-boss-forced-me-to smile on her face, just like yesterday’s guy.
“Ms. L/N,” she calls out as you and Jungkook come closer, “You must be the last couple to join us today!”
She manages to sneak her way behind you, pushing both of you into the dim room before her words could even reach your eardrums. Did she say couple?
Jungkook attempts to correct her, “I’m just here to drop her off—,” to no avail.
The woman has a menacing smile and look to her eyes that shuts the both of you right up, “The first activity was just about to start,” she rushes to the exit and shuts the door, but not before a friendly, “Have fun!”
Was this cruise actually full of psychos?
You and Jungkook are frozen in place, only noticing the handful of couples sitting on the floor, the petals spread across the room and romantic candles sticking out the walls, a moment too late.
“Welcome! Welcome!” An elderly woman approaches you, her short hair wrapped in a pink bandana, the boho print matching the rest of her clothes and chunky jewelry, “I’m Hattie, your instructor. Why don’t you two sit down so we can start?”
Though you're both in shock, none of you attempt to make an escape, taking quick but hesitant steps to the last empty space in the back. A flustered Jungkook is the first to talk once you’re sat down, “What the fuck, Y/N?”
Hattie seemed to have been saying something when Jungkook whispered a tad too loud, both of you putting on a smile when she looked. “I have no idea what’s happening either,” you grit through your teeth,
Once she looks away, you and Jungkook take a breather.
“I legit didn't see anything about onboard couple’s therapy, I was really tired,” you rub between your brows, “You can go, Jungkook,” your head gestures to the sealed exit, “I can take the embarrassment. Plus, that’s kind of the whole point.
“But that guard lady locked us in here,” his fading hope is visible in the way he buries his head in his hands, seemingly forgetting who he was with when he asks, “Am I really stuck here with Y/N?”
Are you fucking kidding me. You can’t believe you were empathetic with the monster for even a second. “Don’t be over dramatic, it’s only until six.”
His shock takes over his hands and the volume of his voice when he hits his legs, “WE’RE GOING TO BE HERE FOR FOUR HOURS?”
The murmurs and whatever that instructor was saying, are quickly silenced.
“We’re sorry,” you apologise on his behalf as he struggles with reality, “Please, continue.”
She coughs and puts back that old lady smile of hers, clasping her hands together, “As I was saying, we have three tasks ahead of us,” she puts up a finger for each one she lists, “A loving touch, a loving conversation and a loving drink.”
Her voice is drowned out by your dread, your eyes glancing at the couples holding hands and touching, whispering what were surely forbidden secrets into each other’s ears, the candle wax melting and falling in a picturesque way and how the music was crispy to the ears. It was all so… romantic.
And then there were you two idiots that stuck out amidst the crowd, both awkward yet number one is redder than the roses and number two was sweating like a hog. I’ll let you decide which is which.
Hattie’s words are what bring you back to the present, “For us to loosen up, we will begin with the loving touch session,” please say massage, “Each couple should head up to their respective massage rooms.”
At last, the sun is found in the storm.
You follow with an excited sway when Hattie finally comes to bring you to your room. She closes the door behind her with an, “Enjoy!”
A masseur is waiting on the opposite side of the massage bed with welcome arms, “Good afternoon, Mr. and Ms. L/N.”
Jungkook raises his hand, “I’m actually Jeon, she’s the only—.”
“My mistake, Mr. and Ms. Jeon,” Goddamit, Jungkook can’t you say anything helpful for once? “Which one of you will be massaged first?”
You practically leap to grab the robe in his hand before Jungkook could steal the chance, pointing to the jade door, “Is this the changing room?.”
The man nods, a little taken aback from your excitement.
You're out of your clothes and in the backwards robe in the blink of an eye, laid down on the bed in less than a minute, your head now resting on the top of your crossed arms.
“So, Mr. Jeon,” you feel a cold oil drizzle over your back, experienced hands spreading it across your back, “You’ll be placing your hands—,” wait, where did they go, “— right here.”
And just like that Jeon Jungkook’s hands were on your bare back, the concept of a loving touch finally flickering in your mind. His hands were a little more rough and shakier than you would’ve imagined.
Why was that going through your mind?
You should’ve been wishing death on him, yourself and everybody else in the boat, shouldn’t you?
“A loving touch is all about, not only a physical connection but really feeling your partner’s body, go ahead.”
Jungkook, being the pet he was, followed his orders and he did it a little too well, he slowly moved his hands from the knots on your shoulders to the very low of your back and you’d be lying to yourself if you said it felt horrible.
“It’s connecting on a whole new physical level with the other,” Jungkook’s hands travel to the dimples of your spine and linger for a moment too long, but they quickly come back up and focus on the crevices of your neck instead, each movement seemingly aiming for all of your stiff muscles.
Not too bad at all.
The masseur’s philosophical rant about touch and love is completely ignored, your mind hyper focused on every inch of skin Jungkook set his fingers on, his hands sailing further down the sides of your body, the extra attention he pays to your waist not unnoticed.
“Fuck.”
Indeed.
Oh, God. What did you just say?
No, no, no.
Perhaps it was just low enough for nobody to hear it—
“I guess that means you should switch now,” the masseur chuckles with a cringed tone.
It was not.
You prop yourself up and look at Jungkook who you could only hope wasn’t laughing at you, your eyes glassy and pleading for something unclear.
And the bastard was snickering, looking in no direction in particular with a blush to his cheeks and a mocking, lip-biting chuckle on his face.
Once you’re up and standing, it quickly dawns on you that it’s Jungkook's turn. Meaning you had to touch Jungkook and massage Jungkook and touch Jungkook.
The world did hate you.
Jungkook realises he was taking too long and mutters a quick, “Uh,” before pulling his top over his head and you shut your eyes — weren’t you Ms. Jeon, though?
The masseur has to call out your name for you to open them back up again, Jungkook laid on the bed with his head on top of his arms.
“I suppose you know what to do, Miss,” the man smiles.
“Yeah, Y/N,” he exhaled and you can hear his smug, “You know what to do.”
The square footage of Jungkook’s back intimidated you the tiniest bit now that it was splayed out before you, you must admit. Still, you place gentle hands on his back and you’ve confirmed once and for all that those bumps were indeed not from a disease but muscles. Rock hard muscles.
You don’t even remember you had to repay him the favor of embarrassing you — because yes, it was his fault — as you get lost in every dip and fold of his skin, your fingers moving on pure intuition.
The curve of his back, the ridges of his shoulders and the little jolts on the surface of his skin, you could feel all of it.
A hand to your wrist jolts you awake, Jungkook stirring with a glaze to his eyes as you both look up at the masseur, “It’s time for your next activity, Miss.”
Oh, God. What just happened?
You cough and don’t bother to excuse yourself as you leave the room, Jungkook grabbing your forgotten clothes and putting on his robe as he follows behind you.
You try to shake away the burning that creeps it’s way to your fingertips and cheeks as you sit back down on the floor. But it doesn’t work, your sweaty palms joining the party instead. Great. Just great.
Hattie’s voice saves the day, “I hope we’re all relaxed and ready to converse with our partners,” not at all, “If you could all just face each other, cross your legs and hold hands. This intimacy is important when facing important feelings and questions with your partner.”
As if Jungkook slathering oil on you like you were a nice roast chicken wasn't enough, now you had to hold hands with him. Is death still an option?
You’re facing each other, Jungkook’s palms up, “Shall we?”
Uneasiness settles in your stomach, a feeling you’ve never felt with Jungkook before. Sure, you’ve felt judged or uncomfortable but never truly uneasy. Maybe it was just your body reacting to the physical trauma you had to endure.
You nod.
“You know,” Jungkook seems to still be waking up, “You’re not too bad with your hands,” and he laughs.
But it’s a welcome sound that unbundles your nerves in the most peculiar way, your own smile coming back. “You’re not shabby either.”
“I could tell—.”
“I suppose you honeymooners didn’t hear my explanation,” None of you bother to correct her anymore as she places a deck of cards between you, “But all you need to do is pick a card in turn and answer the question. Don’t forget to look into each other’s eyes,” she winks and stands up, making her way to the front of the crowd.
“I guess this is when we start asking each other the questions,” the cringe in your tone is all that rasps your ears as you hold hands… with Jungkook.
“Go ahead,” his head points to the pile of cards in front of you but his eyes only look at Hattie and the way she seemed to ignore every other couple in the room except the both of you.
You breathe in as deep as you can, your hand grabbing the first question, your uncontrollable blush heating up tenfold when you realise this was probably even more intimate than the event-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred in the massage room.
Your mouth stumbles before properly saying, “How long have you been together?”
But Jungkook doesn’t seem as embarrassed as you, the same tint painted on his cheeks but he manages to laugh all the same, your chuckles joining his.
“I’d say about two years?”
Sly bastard. “I’d say two years too.”
He’s the next to grab a card, placing both of your hands on his left one before reaching.
“This is a great one,” he snorts, putting on a serious face when he replaces the card with your hand, “Are there any issues you’d like to bring up?”
You throw your head back just like the exorcist girl, and cackle— were you okay?. “Well, where should I start?”
This was actually kind of fun.
“Okay, but let’s be real for a moment,” he lightly squeezes your hands, “What is your issue with me?”
Or, maybe not.
“Well,” you curse at the old woman for putting you this close, your eyes left with close to no space to avoid Jungkook’s, “There’s just this way you look at me.”
Your gaze is back on the confused boy, the furrow between his brows strong enough to be considered a wifi connection. “What are you talking about?”
“Like—,” you try to come up with some way to explain, “—The first time we met, right? It’s like, you just go silent for a few seconds and literally look through my soul. It makes me feel like I murdered your entire family.”
Jungkook’s eyes grew wide with every word you spouted, the flush on his cheeks practically steaming from his skin.
Did he seriously not know? Oh, well.
“I’m just gonna go ahead and grab the next one,” you say to the top of Jungkook’s head since his face was pointed to his lap.
“Oh, God,” you squeeze Jungkook’s hands with a little more force than necessary, but at least it makes him look up, “You ready?”
Nod.
“What do you love most about your partner?”
Now that was a real couples’ therapy question. Great job, Hattie.
“I think you should answer this one,” you seem to state the obvious, “Since I was the only person to answer the last question.”
Jungkook’s shoulders fall from their perfect posture, “Fine.”
His eyes have that same glint you mentioned before as he scans you up and down. Was that the fifth time today? New record, guys.
“I guess,” he purses his lips with a slight smile, “She always knows how to make a moment memorable. Oh?
Your palms were sweating once again and you wouldn’t have taken note of it if you weren’t holding Jungkook’s goddamn hands at the moment. Why you of all people?
“Coming of a little strong, partner,” the nervousness in your giggly tone ever the obvious thing.
A small smile, “What about you?”
Oh, right. You needed to answer.
It wasn’t like you were an actual couple, “Uh—,” but why is the air between you so thick?
You struggle to find an answer and decide to go with the first thing that pops in your mind,“Well,” Shut up, Y/N, “He always manages to sneak his way in my thoughts.”
Why didn’t you shut up?
However, at this Jungkook smiles, but it isn’t the taut one you’ve seen hundreds of times before, no. Jungkook’s entire face scrunches up and the moons under his eyes seem to have constellations that creased outwards; the way his nose rumpled, his cheeks puffed up and his front teeth steamed the spotlight. Jungkook wasn’t smiling, the boy in front of you was beaming.
And he was beaming at you.
“Next one?” He asks, his face still shining.
You can’t even move at the sight.
Shuffle. “What is your favorite memory with your partner?” He puts it down, “I have like three answers for this one.”
The lightness is back in an instant and you keep that picture of Jungkook on the back of your mind, “You do?”
“Yup,” he pops the P, “First, at the last Christmas party, I go to take a piss at the men’s bathroom, as one does.”
“Please, don’t say it,” you groan and you can’t even hide your face because Hattie would probably slap your hands into Jungkook‘s.
“But, wait,” he feigns shock, “I hear someone gagging in a stall, more specifically a woman. And who else could it have been but the Y/N L/N.”
The almost forgotten memory of you retching your heart out in a smelly toilet and a suited Jungkook carrying you back to Seokjin comes back, and though it’s fuzzy and the mere thought of it is dreadful, Jungkook’s laugh is contagious, even to you now.
“Ah, I never thanked you for that.”
“You don’t need to—.”
“I didn’t finish,” you look at him disillusioned, “And I shouldn’t, because Mother Jin rubbed it in my face the rest of the night about how I was the boss and he was the lousy, underpaid assistant.”
“Classic Jin,” he chuckled. “Okay, second of all, when you threw a coke at my face two seconds after meeting me.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny, Jungkook,” your voice is dry, “But to my defense—.”
“I looked at you weird, totally a justifiable course of action,” he raises his brow, “What about you?”
“What about me?,” Your confusion is cleared up when you’re reminded that you were simply playing a silly card game, “I would have to say… Watching your boss throw a drink at your face after you asked her to make you a partner in the firm.”
Jungkook seems to have buried the memory, “What is it with you people throwing liquids at me?”
You put a thoughtful hand to your chin, “You just have a very drink throwable face.”
He’s quick to snatch your hand back into his and it doesn’t even ring in your mind, “Another one.”
Groan. “Fine, uhm—,” you purse your lips, “Honestly? Maybe, right after that when you were on the sidewalk crying and piss-drunk and you just kind of talked to me.”
Jungkook’s surprised expression has a genuinity to it, “Oh, no. What did I say?”
You shake your head as if to say ‘Nothing’, “You were just going on about how hard you’ve been working and you couldn’t even go out with your friends and you didn’t look at me in the eye even once,” you’re staring into the empty space, “You just said ‘this was a nice dream but I have to wake up now’ and blacked out.”
Your giggle is akin to a little schoolgirl’s and you look backat Jungkook, the night sky in his smile back once again. Hm. Cu—
Hattie claps and the noise bounces you back from your trance. You whip your hands out of Jungkook's hold, afraid they were going to end up drenched from your heart palpitations — Seriously, why was it so hot in the middle of the ocean?
You avoid Jungkook’s searching eyes to the best of your abilities. This could only be a fever.
“We seem to have reached the end of our loving session,” the biggest smile on her face, she can’t wait to get rid of us, “Each couple’s loving drink is awaiting at the exit. The robes are complementary, please do not forget your possessions and stay in love!” Thank God.
You’re on your feet in no time, practically jogging to the exit when Hattie suddenly grabs hold of you, making Jungkook stop in his tracks.
“You two kept on interrupting my class,” she narrowed her eyes but there’s a nicety to her, “But I let it slide, it’s not like I haven’t dealt with worse. Plus, you two have something special that most of the other couples in this room didn’t have.”
A woman scoffs at Hattie’s words when she passes by with her own wife.
Your lack of response is filled with Jungkook’s curious words, “And what is that?”
She leans in a little closer, “Shine,” she whispers this time, “A shine to your eyes and a shine to the way you dance around each other, it’s envying.”
The shine she was referring to was surely the dislike you had for each other. Surely.
You were so sure that you wouldn't stick around for another crazy word of hers and you go back to your almost-running pace to the elevator, not looking back to check if Jungkook had followed behind you.
Why were you so embarassed?
You reach your room in no time and hide yourself beneath the sheets. For a few moments you don’t move, as if you were waiting for something, or someone, to come knocking at the door; and when no one does, your chest weighs a little heavier as if you were disappointed.
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“Are you telling me that Jungkook made you moan?” Jin’s voice shrill through the speakerphone, your knees to your chest as you sat at the balcony.
“That’s besides the point, Jin,” you groan, “But, yes.”
He hisses through his teeth, just like the snake he is, “Yeah, there’s no coming back from that.”
“Please,” you’re begging at this point, “Help me.”
“I don’t know what to say Y/N. The symptoms you described don’t sound like the flu, it sounds like raging thirsty hormones.”
Beep, you hear through the glass doors, making you turn, “You’re the worst,” the handle was rotating, “I gotta go, Jin. Love you, bye,” you whisper into the microphone as you grab the phone and make your way into the room for who knows what reason.
And there you were, like a fucking idiot, standing in the middle of the room when Jungkook walks in, scratching the back of his neck when you lock eyes.
“Hey.”
You bite your lip, “Hey.”
The air weighs down with words that wanted to be said and the uncertainty of what they meant, and nobody says anything as you fidget with your skirt Jungkook makes his way to his pile of clothes.
You watch as he digs his way and he seems to be looking for something.
Does he need help—
“Fucking hell, Y/N?”
Excuse me?
You come closer to his little circus act with your hands behind your back, “What?”
Jungkook stands up and you can feel his breath on the tip of your nose, “Where’s my shirt?”
Now, you were truly baffled.
“What shirt?”
He goes to the bathroom and continues his search for said shirt, “My hawaiian shirt,” his voice echoes, “It’s pink, it looks exactly like yours.”
Wow. And he picked on you for that on your very first night together. Wow.
“Why would I steal it?” You start searching through the pile of clothes on the chair, sure to find something.
“I didn’t say you stole it,” Jungkook is striding towards you, “You could’ve just gotten them mixed—.”
His sentence never finds an end when you stand up and turn at the very same moment he comes behind you, your bodies clashing and falling to the floor with a bang. Jungkook is on top of you, the only thing stopping your faces from touching being his upend arm, you don’t even notice your hand was holding onto it until you feel something flex beneath your fingertips.
Could this day get any better?
It takes a few moments for any of you to move, but when you do it’s up and rushing, both of you dusting off your clothes as if there was anything to dust off and staring intently at the ground.
“Uhm—,” Jungkook is the first to break the silence as he grabs something from behind you, “Found it.”
And you both wait for someone to say something else, still no one does and Jungkook puts the shirt back in the pile, walking towards the door.
But just before he could take those final steps, you grab him by the wrist and breathe out. You hated this.
“Look, Jungkook,” he does, “I’m really sorry for running off, I just felt really weird, you know?”
He early waits for you to continue.
“It’s just—,” you let go of him, your fingertips burning from the touch, “—today was a lot. I think we’ve never had real, sober time together that lasted for more than an hour and there was so much touching and talking,” you find yourself rambling, “It was just, really overwhelming because we’re not that close, “So, let’s just go back to insulting each other every two seconds and have a good dinner?”
He seemed to be expecting more, but if he was he doesn’t say a word about it and puts on a happy façade, “Only if you promise to not moan in the middle of our meal.”
Your expression falls flat. “You know what, forget it—.”
“Fine, fine,” he puts his hands up in defeat and unlocks the door, “They’re serving sushi tonight,” he doesn’t wait for you as he heads to the elevator, “So hurry up, dumbass.”
You smile, tucking your hair behind your ears.
Dumbass.
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| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @giadalin / @mrcleanheichou / @btsmylife21 / @primadonnasdream / @paizthemaiz
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starrystarrytrouble · 3 years
Text
Four Valentines (Ethan x MC)
Four years of Ethan hating Valentine’s Day.
For CFWC love stories event day 14: I hate couples and Choices Feb Challenge day 14: valentine
Words and rating: 2.5k, general
Author’s note: He really, really hates Valentine’s Day. And we’re about to make him suffer in four different ways. Grumpy Ethan is my favourite Ethan. Hope you enjoy reading.
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Intern year
The laughter coming from the supply closet was unmistakeable.
First, her giggle, familiar and catastrophic, but then a second voice that widened his eyes.
It wasn’t unusual for Ethan to find interns making out or worse in supply closets. He’d been caught in them plenty of times himself.
But it wasn’t normal for him to feel such white hot rage.
He opened the door with force.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Eve froze in complete shock as Lahela rubbed the back of his neck, with a sheepish grin.
Ethan raised his eyebrows in cold hard warning. Jaw tight, eyes blazing, it was clear that answering wasn’t optional.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” she mumbled, holding his gaze.
She fumbled behind her in the dark space and pulled out a bag while Lahela tried to explain.
“Oh shit, look we were just…”
He stopped speaking as he noticed the attending hadn’t taken his eyes off Eve. Whatever this conversation was, Bryce wasn’t part of it.
Eve held up a candy bar and then another, and another.
“We’re packing these to give out to the kids in paeds during our break,” she said, and then almost reading the question on Ethan’s mind added, “Because it’s Valentine’s day.”
Blue eyes shifted to the pink tutu and fairy wings on her shoulders.
“And we thought we’d dress up too. To cheer them up.”
“Right,” the word left Ethan’s mouth firmly but for a second, something vaguely resembling relief softened his features.
Bryce had never seen two people hold a conversation with so few words. And Eve’s next words, uttered in a tender whisper, explained why.
“We weren’t doing anything else. I wouldn’t…”
“I’m only interested in your jobs, doctors. So I suggest you hurry up.”
Ethan swept away, his face betraying no further emotion.
Eve flopped against the wall, curling over, hugging her chest with a big sigh, her breathing still erratic.
“What?” she said, at Bryce’s quizzical look.
“He’s gone. He was fine with it.”
She nodded and carried on arranging the candy into paper bags.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yep, I’m great,” she said with a plastic smile that Bryce saw straight through.
“Eve, I’ve been caught in supply closets with girls, and not one of them looked as scared as you do and we weren’t even doing anything fun.”
She shook her head and threw a Hershey bar into a bag.
“Wow, Ramsey must’ve got you good,” he said with a final grin.
“What?”
She stared back at him, doe-eyed and petrified. A flush was creeping up her cheek as she bit down hard on her bottom lip.
Bryce understood immediately.
She wouldn’t be the first intern to have a hopeless crush on Ramsey. But that’s all it was, hopeless. She had to know that, right?
She glanced at him again nervously, her sudden shyness a side to his friend that he’d never seen before.
This crush had to be serious but it wasn’t his place to pry. With a flash of his usual winning smile, he picked up another chocolate bar.
She’d tell him about it when she was ready.
“I mean, he must be a real hardass to get you so scared.”
Relief washed over her, not unlike the glint he’d seen in Ramsey’s face earlier.
“Right, yeah he is. Total hardass.”
When they stepped back into the corridor, Bryce had his best smile ready to dazzle the kids. He didn’t notice the lingering glance Eve gave across the hall to her attending.
And he didn’t see the longing look Ethan gave her back.
Second year
She had all the jokes ready. Puns by the hour.
Valentine’s Day. Eve Valentine’s Day.
Her day. A day dedicated to his love for her.
But it was already 7pm, the sun was dangerously close to setting, and Ethan was not playing ball.
He hadn’t acknowledged the day at all.
Which was okay in principal, she knew he wasn’t a hearts and flowers man, but now that they were dating, or together or whatever the hell it was, she wanted a small mention of 14 February.
Just so she could use the puns.
For some reason, he seemed to be ignoring her and that she wasn’t expecting.
When Baz gave her a heart shaped lollipop, wishing her ‘Happy Eve Day’ with a cute swoop, she couldn’t help but giggle. And all the time, Ethan was standing right there with them, suddenly very interested in his coffee maker. At least Baz appreciated romance.
Then as Sammie, their 8 year old clinic patient laughed herself silly when she heard Eve’s full name, Ethan buried his head in his notes. And when she asked him if they could grab a drink after work, head buried in a mountain of paperwork, he’d only glanced up briefly and nodded.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was planning a surprise. But she called Elijah at home and there were no flowers or packages waiting for her.
It just didn’t seem fair. The hospital was closing, she was exhausted, they barely had time for each other, and now all she wanted was her boyfriend to give her 5 minutes of attention on Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t unreasonable.
She stared at her dinner options in the vending machine. Dim magnolia moonlight wisped in through the window.
The hand at her shoulder warmed her heart.
“Still nothing?” Sienna’s voice was gentle but her eyes were tinged with sympathy.
“Nada.”
“He’ll have something secret planned, Ethan’s that type. Some romantic gesture straight out of a rom-com that’ll make you swoon like you’re Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. What time do you finish tonight?”
“10pm. That’s kinda late for grand gestures.”
“Yeah,” Sienna looked sad again, “I’m sorry, this sucks. Come on, let’s get some air.”
They walked up to the Edenbrook roof silently, the cool Boston night rustling life back into Eve. It wasn’t so bad. This was just one day and they had plenty of others to come. Maybe she’d win him over next year.
Sienna jerked backwards suddenly and shook her head.
“Oh, no, I’ve just been paged, give me 2 mins and I’ll be right back.”
Before Eve could answer Sienna was running towards the stairs.
And then, there it was.
From the doorway she flashed Eve a look.
It was utterly wicked.
Pieces of a puzzle she didn’t know she was solving started to fit together. Her pulse quickened with each step as she turned the corner, she knew a welcome face would be there to greet her.
And he was.
It was so simple, but maybe that’s what made it romantic. Champagne in plastic cups and a single red rose. The curve of the sun dipping below the lavender sky, and the full moon shifting up to meet blazing stars. A warm fresh breeze that filled her lungs with the thrill of it. Darkened blue eyes, daring her to try to stay away from him.
But it was the knowing smile he wore, the secret one he saved just for her, the one that he must’ve had since he was a little boy, the smile that probably got him out of trouble all through his life, that really made her heart skip.
She bit the inside of her cheek and grinned.
“You could’ve said something earlier you know?”
“And let you make terrible puns about your name all day?” he said without missing a beat.
She rolled her eyes and shifted closer to him, running a finger over the thin fabric of his shirt.
“Sure you don’t want to ask me to be your valentine?”
Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her against him.
“I do not.”
The kiss was soft and longing, Eve pressed her palms against his chest as he nipped along her jaw lightly.
“You didn’t have to do this you know,” she whispered.
“Actually I did.”
His lips found her throat and she moaned softly.
“It is your day after all.”
Third year
It was supposed to be a 10 minute interview.
One journalist, one quote, and then he was free to enjoy the opera in peace.
That’s what the Director of the Boston Opera House promised him and Ethan owed her a favour. A big one after he and Eve were caught enjoying his opera box extremely creatively.
So it was agreed. Ethan was sponsoring the Valentine’s Day performance this year and a journalist from the Boston Globe would ask him a few questions about his love of the arts.
Except the reporter was fresh out of college with bouncy brown hair. The type who’d worn jeans and a flowery shirt with his sleeve rolled up to a goddamn opera. And the interview wasn’t about opera, oh no.
It was all about Ethan’s least favourite day of the year.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, a middle-aged cliché in front of this hipster hack who was typing so fast on his iPad, that he made Ethan dizzy.
“So Dr Ramsey, are you just a romantic at heart?”
Ethan’s clenched his jaw.
This went on and on.
“What’s your favourite thing about La Traviata, is it the love story?”
He could swear the journalist smirked with that last question. He knew Ethan hated this and the bold asshole was actually enjoying it.
The other guests were pouring in, filling the red velvet seats, and all the while Ethan hoped he could escape his box. He’d rather be back at that Taylor Swift person’s concert with Sienna and Eve than trapped with this idiot.  
“It’s the day of love, do you have plans?”
The question might have sent him over the edge, but then he saw her. Entering the box in a golden floor length gown with a soft smile that made his breath catch in his throat.
She looked gilded.
More beautiful than the building and every single soul who’d ever walked within it.
He caught her eye and like the snap of elastic, that was it. Even after a year of dating, they were locked in, the only two people in the opera house, the only two people in the whole damn city for all he cared.
He felt every muscle in his body contract and then relax, as she drew in breath gently and not breaking eye contact, stepped closer to him.
The journalist followed his gaze.
Eve had been watching Ethan’s interrogation from the hallway secretly, trying to stifle her giggle at the way he’d reacted to question after question about love and romance. The journalist had found his sore spot and was enjoying every second of making him squirm. It was adorable.
She knew that he did the asshole attending routine at work, but it hadn’t taken long for her to find the softness he kept hidden away. And watching him roll his eyes dismissively at the smirking reporter reminded her that it was a privilege to know the real Ethan Ramsey.
And to love him. Ethan wasn’t the only one who could be commanding. Her entry was the journalist’s queue to wrap up, and he knew it.
“Last question Dr Ramsey, what made you sponsor the Valentine’s Day production?” he asked with a thousand megawatt smile.
Ethan sighed.
“As I said earlier, I believe in the power of the arts. Today’s occasion is mere coincidence. The arts need support 365 days a year.”
The journalist nodded, not quite content with the answer.
“Any final thoughts on Valentine’s Day?”
“None.”
“Right, and one more for the road, can I get the name of your companion for tonight? For the society pages?”
A wary look drifted on Ethan’s face, all too aware of what was about to happen as Eve reached forward to shake the journalist’s hand.
“Eve. Eve Valentine.”
“Valentine like… today?” he grinned widely with a knowing look.
Ethan groaned.
Fourth year
Bryce scanned the glittering room. Edenbrook had really gone all out on this book launch, there were pink and red roses at every table and twinkling lights at every turn. But then it wasn’t every day the great Ethan Ramsey published a second book.
And yet, despite all the people here, some of the best doctors in the entire country, Ethan was in the corner with Naveen.
“Hey, congrats,” Bryce smiled as he clapped Ethan on the back, “This is some party. But where’s your Valentine?”
Ethan rolled his eyes and spoke flatly, “You’re as bad as she is with those puns.”
“Actually I’m worse,” Bryce said with a proud smirk.
Naveen was still chuckling after the young surgeon had gone.
“The famous Dr Ramsey can’t possibly hate Valentine’s Day, not now.”
Ethan followed Naveen’s eyes to Eve. She was huddled with two of her old UCLA professors, champagne glass in hand, commanding the conversation with her usual ease. And she looked divine. Her dark hair floating down one side and her sparkling eyes as enchanting as the night he’d first kissed her.
“I’m impressed you wrote another book, Ethan. I imagine you have less time on your hands now.”
Naveen surveyed his mentee with a small smile.
“But then again, I imagine it’s easier to focus now that you’re together and not so distracted…”
Ethan said nothing.
“…And not pining.”
Without taking eyes off Eve, Ethan scoffed.
“I have never pined, Naveen.”
The Chief’s eyebrow raise and mischievous grin were enough to force Ethan to break into a crooked smile.
“I have never pined…much.”
The two of them laughed softly as Naveen tugged him into a small hug.
Eve approached them with a wicked look, placing both hands on Ethan’s shoulder and resting her face on her fingers as he wrapped his arm around her waist and stroked her side tenderly.
Naveen looked at her warmly.
“Eve, I must apologise on my mentee’s behalf. I did tell him not to hold his book launch on Valentine’s Day. He seemed to think people would show up anyway. Turns out he was rather correct.”
She glanced at Ethan with a gentle blush.
“I don’t mind, Naveen. Actually he picked today as part of my present. Didn’t he tell you?”
Ethan shook his head with a smirk that made her heart skip.
“I’m sure he’ll find out for himself.”
Naveen looked at them curiously and Eve couldn’t help but explain.
“My Valentine’s gift, it’s on page 1,” she said, pointing at the copy of Ethan’s new book that Naveen was holding.
He rustled over the pages, watching the couple from the corner of his eye.
Eve whispered something in Ethan’s ear and he laughed. A full candid laugh, eyes rich and blue. Years disappearing off his face with each breath as Naveen saw him again as the young man who’d sauntered into his office years ago, full of promise and ambition.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and Ethan drew her tighter, mouthing three words against her forehead softly that brought an incandescent smile to her rosy lips.
Naveen looked back to the volume in his hands. He flicked the book to the first page and felt joy press at his chest.
On fresh white paper were two words:
For Eve.
Notes
The intern year section is set on the same day as my ‘Be Mine’ fic. The journalist is loosely based on Robin Tora from RT who is wasted in that book. Sienna is a Swiftie, change my mind.
Thank you so much for supporting my indulgent, often downright dumb fics since OH2 ended.
You guys are the best and I’m so grateful your love.  
Cant wait for OH3.
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ladyfallonavenger · 3 years
Text
Life in Death
Vampire Bucky Barnes x Reader (Vampire AU)
Word Count: 2580
Warnings: 18+ only, if you are younger than 18 please scoot along. Smut, angst, low self esteem bordering depressive feelings, memory erasing, blood tasting, blood drinking and neck biting.
Not beta read, all mistakes are my own. Please feel free to like, reblog and/or comment. Feedback is always appreciated.
Part of @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 2 Years of Dark writing challenge.
Prompt: A night time visitor proves much worse than any of your nightmares
This is actually the first part of a series. The reader has an unexpected visitor late night which will have a huge impact on two worlds that silently coexist.
I also want to thank @petite-madame for helping inspire me with some amazing art work of Bucky and Steve (Steve will be seen in other chapters)
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It had been a long day for Y/N and she was thankful that it was the weekend. Kicking her wet shoes off as she entered her apartment, she sighed heavily. Shrugging off her drenched coat, she took in her appearance in the hallway mirror. She looked like a 'drowned rat' as her grandmother used to say. She jumped at the sudden furry movement at her ankles, looked down and smiled at the angelic face looking up at her.
"Sorry Alpine, you took mommy by surprise" she uttered as she moved towards the kitchen to feed the cat.
One hour, a hot shower, snack and bottle of water later, Y/N was feeling more like herself. She'd tidied up, grabbed her laptop and a cup of coffee and headed straight for the living room. Looking up at the night sky, she shivered. The moon looked eerie. Almost like how it did in Tom Savini's Night of the Living Dead. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn’t want to add fear to her list of emotions experienced today.
Alpine jumped onto the sofa and purred curling up next to Y/N as she checked her emails. Y/N rolled her eyes at the first email. Her ex-boyfriend sent her a message pleading for her to give him another chance. She deleted it. The relationship had been over for nearly five months. He'd cheated on her with a 'younger model' as he'd first explained it when he compared her to a car. Now that younger model was cheating on him with an older man who was on the more affluent side of town. Karma? Maybe, but she didn’t have time to gloat. She was swearing away from relationships now despite her friends telling her that her fear of them was irrational. It was ok for them to say, they never had her upbringing. She had been forced into living with an overly religious aunt after her abusive father killed her mother in a drunken rage. Dismissing her thoughts she checked the next message. She'd received notice that she was being let go from work due to a remodelling of the company infra-structure. Her department was being amalgamated with two others and her role was now surplus to requirements. Five years with a company and no loyalty from them in return. Termination to happen at the end of next week and 4 months severance pay. At least it bought her some time to find a new job.
Time seemed to pass quite quickly. Y/N looked up at the moon again and it looked more eerie than before. Alpine started hissing and arching her back all of a sudden. Y/N looked at her and tried to calm her but Alpine decided to swipe (though she missed) at Y/N’s hand and make a dash out of the living room. Knowing she'd be back soon, Y/N put Alpine's strop to the back of her mind. But that's when it hit her. That strange sensation when the hair on the nape of your neck stands, that stomach churning feeling that you're being watched. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Placing her laptop aside, she stood up. Cautiously, she made her way out to the hallway checking the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Nothing. Just shadows of objects in the dim lights. Doing her best to bury those feelings of insecurity, she made her way back into the living room. Suddenly a hand covered her mouth and she was pulled against a wall of a torso. Fear gripped her as hard as the hand over her mouth did.
"I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth in a moment, scream or struggle and I will snap you neck in an instant. Nod if you understand" the low voice whispered in her ear. She nodded and he released her. Stepping around her, she looked at him. There was something familiar about him that she couldn’t quite seem to place.
"Look if you want money I'm not..." he cut her off putting his hand up as he paced slowly, looking at the floor and focusing on each step.
"Money, the desire of the materialistic. I don't have a need for money" he stopped and slowly looked up at her. His long brown silky locks framed his pale face angelically as his ice blue eyes pierced her very soul with a burning feeling she couldn’t describe.
"So if you don't want money then -" it suddenly hit her, "Oh fuck, you're Bucky Barnes!" she exclaimed. He nodded with
a smirk.
"I wondered if you'd recognise me" he remarked.
"Well it's not every day that one of New York's renowned elite members of Stark Creative Industries, not to mention my favourite member, turns up in your flat near 11pm acting like a psycho" Y/N snapped with sarcasm and feeling really out of depth. Within a blink of an eye, in a move faster than any human could manage, he was in her personal space, hand around her throat and eyes glowing with a very strange hue.
"Do not mock me, I could take from you whatever I wish and you'd succumb to my every whim" he leaned into her and whispered "with little effort I could take every part of your mind and body" his words dripped like honey making her gulp and squeeze her thighs together as her panties dampened at the mere thought of him possessing her body.
"What... what are you?" she asked, with uncertainty in her tone. She knew he was different: pale, cold to the touch and yet something about him pulled to her.
"I'm what you always believed in, always desired. I'm a... a vampire" he quietly revealed, baring his fangs to her with a sardonic smile. Her heart rapidly began to beat as she realised her child and teen fantasy was real. Vampires existed yet in a twisted turn of fate, a psychotic one ended up in her apartment. "I told you I'm not psychotic" Bucky hissed reading her mind and letting her go as he sulked at her accusation.
"Can you stop reading my mind please? Like you don't have enough advantages over me already" she sniped as she walked over to the sofa and perched herself on the arm. Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion. There was an awkward silence in the room. Bucky hadn't pictured it panning out like this.
"Why are you not afraid of me?" he asked incredulously.
"Why should I be? If you want to kill me why should I stop you, it's not like I've got lots going for me. My whole life has always been a shit storm so if you want to extinguish the weak flame that is my life, who am I to stop you" she sighed staring at the floor. Bucky looked at her and felt something, a pang of something he thought was dormant as he hadn't felt it in years. "So I will ask you one more time Mr Barnes, what do you want from me?" her tone sounded deflated.
The weird silence between them resurfaced. Bucky’s 'victims' usually gave in right away. They were usually the untraceable 'off the grid' type, law breakers and people who'd brought misery or pain to others willingly and with no remorse. Tony often teased him calling him the Vigilante Vampire. The truth was when Bucky had become a vampire, it was to escape a death sentence for a crime he didn't commit. So why had he picked her? That was simple, her soul called to him for help. Pleading with him to end her pain. Unlike his past prey, there was something exquisite about her soul. Something beautiful that attracted him like a moth to a flame and here he was. But why?
He moved in the direction of the sofa stopping before her and cupping her chin in his left hand, the smooth cool metal of it was soothing. His gaze locked on hers.
"Dear Y/N you really have no idea how bright your flame burns do you?" his voiced was laced with compassion and a sudden attraction that he didn't think was possible. He could hear her heart speeding up.
"I've never had a reason to believe it did. Please, if you're going to end this, get it over with" she pleaded flatly. He was overwhelmed by her inner pain and in an instant understood everything she was feeling.
"I admit, my original reason for coming over was to try a new taste that had been recommended to me. You see my previous delicacies are usually acrid because of their deeds and actions. It taints them. You seemed so cut off from the world yet at the same time everything about you is unlike them. I wanted to taste something sweet" he admitted leaning closer.
"And now?" Y/N gulped. Bucky’s lips were centimetres from hers.
"I just want you" he uttered bringing her lips to his. This time her true fear struck her but he tried to soothe it away knowing that someone showing her love and devotion terrified
her. The light kiss deepened as his tongue probed her lips and sought entrance to her mouth. In a move that even surprised her, Y/N ran her tongue over his fangs eliciting a whimper from him. Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bedroom.
To look at him, it would be easy to forgive the assumption that he was all about rough passion. The kisses he was sharing with her were deep, sensual, erotic and full of desire. He set her on the bed and gave her a chance to surface for air. He wasted no time in removing the pyjamas she was wearing. He crawled over her kissing and nipping her skin. He reached the crook of her neck and had to steady himself. Her pulse point was rhythmically calling him, toying with his restraint. He took it as an opportunity to move back to remove Y/N’s bra and panties. Her first instinct was to cover herself with her hands but he was having none of it. He began to assault the ample canvas of flesh from her breasts down to her navel, kisses and licks in random sequences all eliciting moans and whimpers of delight, fuelling him further. Shifting lower on the bed, he was now faced with her pussy. He ran his fingers between her sensitive slit watching her buck upwards. Holding her in place, he began to suck on her clit. She was crying out his name repeatedly as he toyed with her, grazing his fangs against her swollen nub and driving her over the edge 3 times. His expert tongue was lavishing in her wetness. Her taste was an explosion of sweetness in his mouth making him hanker for more.
"Te requiro mea" he whispered to her alluringly as he glanced up at her face, wanton with lust and love. She smiled softly at him.
"I need you too" she breathlessly spoke. He gave her a shy lopsided grin, impressed that she understood him, and began to kiss up her body once again, his impatience and need getting the better of him. She reached out to him, as he kicked off his shoes, helping him remove his suit, silk shirt and boxer shorts in rapid timing. Moving back over her, he kissed her gently and looked into her eyes.
"It may hurt a little my precious little doll, if you want me to stop I -"
"No, Bucky I want this" she replied in a soft, warm tone. He nodded and lowered his mouth to hers once more as he slowly began to guide himself into her until he was up to the hilt. Her velvet walls contracted around him like a perfect sized glove to a hand. She could feel his hesitation, whatever the reason, the concern flashed in his eyes. But Y/N wasn't willing to stop now, he was like a fruit from the famed Rossetti’s Goblin Market. Forbidden, sweet and an ultimate temptation. Pushing through his internal conflict with a boldness she had never possessed before, she moved her kisses over his jawline and rutted her hips in a way that gave him no choice but to move.
"I'm yours body, mind and soul" she whispered in his ear nipping at his ear lobe. The words began to fuel his thrusts as he pinned her down to the mattress, their fingers entwined as he built up his pace, each time hitting her sweet spot. He could feel her tightening around him as he began to sweat droplets of blood (something he'd never done before), his blood mixed into their kisses, her tasting him in a way that awoken her senses to a whole new level. He cold feel she was ready to cum and knew he wouldn't last much longer. She guided him to her neck and felt him resist.
"I can't, I could kill you" he confessed almost tearful.
"I want you to, I trust you" she punctuated each word with a raspy breath. As she cried out his name in euphoria he roared, joining her, and sank his teeth into her neck like a feral beast eating for the first time. His eyes glowed with a golden hue as he fed. His body was overcome with emotions dead to him for over a century. He forced himself to pull away from her neck feeling her go limp in his arms.
She had taken 45 minutes to wake from the bite, she felt very weak but fuller than she'd ever been. She was still in his arms. He'd been tracing patterns on her bare shoulder with his metal
fingers. She looked up at him with an exhausted smile, he responded by kissing her forehead and tip of her nose
"I didn't drink too much" he promised.
"I know. Thank you Bucky" she uttered.
"What for?" he asked confused.
"Making me feel like I was worth something. Even if it was for one night" she sighed happily. The words struck him like an arrow through the heart. It made his next few decisions harder to make. Kill her, make her like him and risk changing her by turning her into what he was, or the third decision which was more dangerous than the previous two. She could feel him tense as he pondered his next steps?
"You're staring" he grinned as Y/N glanced up at him.
"I'm never going to see you again, am I?" the sorrow in her voice tore at him deeply. He closed his eyes knowing that whatever he said would gravely hurt.
"Yes you will my precious little doll" he planted his lips to the top of her head with tenderness as he fought back the tears threatening his eyes. Watching her drift back off to sleep, he performed a quick ritual and spoke in Latin so that she would forget him. Alpine jumped on the bed and stared at Bucky. Within minutes he had the cat purring at him.
"I don't know what will happen next Alpine but you must look after her, until I see her again ok" he told the cat who seemingly nodded. Within minutes, he was ready to go. Saying one more Latin phrase – a declaration of love, he sadly dropped his head down. His heart was breaking as he left knowing that she would forget while he’d remember. More importantly, the fallout of this made her a target for torture or death if the truth were discovered - and it was about to be.
@team-marvel13 @smokeybluebrooke-lyn @aidinniram @thatfangirl42
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not-your-damsel · 3 years
Text
Craving You
Word Count :: 4,994
A/N :: Go easy on me, my sweeties. This is my first full fic in the hottest of minutes.
This is just some soft, tender, Husband! Hitoshi Shinsou x Pregnant Fem! Reader missing each other dearly. We’re sticking with Keiid’s adult version of Toshi because that version of him has me absolutely fuckin’ weak ��
CW :: Minors DNI, NSFW, 🔞, Smut, Tender Loving Hours, Slight Choking. Pretty much it, I wanna say.
You will 100% be blocked if you’re a minor liking/re-blogging this work, or if your age isn’t in your bio and you’re liking/re-blogging this work. Simple as that!
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You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his side of the bed not only empty, but cold. You sighed and attempted to sit up, holding your rounded stomach, feeling as your body ached. “Toshi?” You called out, silence answering back before sniffing for any hint of coffee in the air that he so loved to brew, strong enough to wake the dead. Nothing. Had he even been home at all last night? Being pregnant had done some weird things to not only your body, but your senses and sleeping habits. You noticed you’d sleep deeper than usual, something you hated. You wanted to be able to know when Hitoshi got home, when he hit the bed, anything. You wanted to be able to help should he need it. Take the other night for example. On his way home from being out on patrol he stumbled on a man who was robbing the local convenience store and though he caught the robber, he hadn’t escaped the ordeal without the guy putting up a surprisingly good fight. Toshi came home that night beaten to hell and you’d spent the better part of the evening with him on the toilet while you cleaned and patched him up. He didn’t want the help, wanted you to rest with your swollen ankles raised but you wouldn’t hear of it. When you were done, you carded your fingers through his short wild indigo locks, kissing his forehead while he caressed your stomach before wrapping his arms around you. You slipped your black cat slippers on, waddling from the loft down to the kitchen to grab a cup of black tea. Once you finished there, you made your way to the bathroom, turning shower on to your desired temperature. Your back was hurting and you wanted nothing more than to have hot water splashing against the painful spot as hot as you could bear. Carrying a whole other human inside you was hard work. You couldn’t wait to get back to work, kicking ass alongside your husband, the Shinsou’s back at it being a top hero power couple. You felt so out of shape and bloated and your breasts hurt when they were too full of milk, back and ankles on fire and swollen... you just seemed to be in perpetual pain these last 2 months. Not only that, you and Hitoshi’s sexual activities had to be put on hold and that was getting to you both and you knew it. You didn’t have to ask Toshi to know how much he was aching for you to the point of it making him at least a little crazy. As reserved as he was, gentle in his demeanor with you, and calm as a still lake, he was a human and he had needs. He’d never tell you, but he had to keep himself on more than one occasion from ripping your clothing off and bending you over the nearest surface to fuck you silly. Your dom and sub roles in the bedroom had to also be put on hold because Hitoshi could be a particularly rough man when it came to that, never truly knowing the full extent of his strength. He’d been absolutely terrified out of his wits of being rough once you started to show.
Great. Now you were sorely in pain and horny. “Stupid, stupid woman.” You seethed at yourself. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the door to the shower open. It wasn’t until you felt the cool air hit your back that you felt a large set of hands slide from your hips to cradle around your stomach, your body tensing ever so briefly before relaxing. “Hitoshi, you scared the shit out of me.” You breathed, your shoulders relaxing. “I’m sorry, kitten. Are you ok?” He asked, hearing his voice was more gruff than usual had you turning to look at him. The normal bags under his eyes now looked like a set of luggage. He’d taken on more hours over the past several weeks to help build up some parental leave for when his daughter was due, he was busy doing so much and you felt bad. You cupped his cheeks before stepping forward on the balls of your feet with your lips poised for a kiss. He lent the rest of the way down to meet you, the water hitting his short wild tresses in the process, wetting it. “Toshi, thank you. You’re doing a lot and it shows. I wish you could rest already, we appreciate it and you so much.” You held the back of his neck, your thumbs rubbing lovingly along the sides behind his ears. He gave a tired, crooked grin, pecking your forehead then your nose before pulling away and looking at you with love, “It’s all for you guys, I love you with everything I am and I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” He joked with a chuckle.
Before you had a chance to protest, moving to swat him at his choice of words, he grabbed your wrist and held it to his chest, dipping again to kiss you passionately, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip for permission, but you were already opening for him to invade your wet cavern with his muscle. Hitoshi’s kiss was hungry, conveying all the pent up want and need he had for you, his wife. His large hands roamed down your back, thick fingers skimming the curve of your spine before they landed at your hips giving them a loving squeeze only to then rest on each cheek of your behind where he pulled you against him, allowing you feel how hard he was for you. Gasping in his mouth before continuing the kiss, you threaded your fingers through his hair again, tugging and earning you a groan of pleasure from deep within his chest. With your hand still held against his chest, you dragged your nails across the neat indigo chest hairs that lay there before sliding over to graze over his nipple, hardening it. Toshi was breathing harder through his nose now, his hips rolling of their own accord before pulling away. You whined, eyes lidded and drunk off his searing kiss. He grinned before looking around your spacious rainfall shower to the built in bench. “Do you trust me, kitten?” Hitoshi asked. You shook your head in confusion. “What kind of... you know I do, with my life.”
Hitoshi guided you to the bench to sit for a moment before he stepped out of the shower to grab a couple of things. “I-I’ll be right back,” he said with his hands held up, nonverbally telling you to stay put, where you smiled and nodded as he stepped out of the bathroom. You’d heard him faintly talking to himself before a loud bang sounded out followed by him swearing under his breath loudly. “Toshi? Are you alright?” You called, tilting your head from where you sat with a hand on your stomach rubbing it. “I’m ok, my love!” He called before turning up at the door a moment later with a couple things in hand, namely a towel and his hero weapon, the capture cloth. You were puzzled to say the least. “What are you doing, sweetie?” You asked him with your brow cocked and lips parted in wonder. “Well, I know we haven’t been able to get as intimate as we’d normally like due to me being so busy at work and you being... being... so pregnant,” ‘Nice choice of words, Hitoshi.’ He mentally slapped himself, “So I had an idea while I was on my way home. Care to try?” He asked you, purple tried eyes looking at you so hopeful it ached you to see. You’d nodded and began the monumental task of trying to stand until he stopped you. “No, no, let me set it up, ok?” Toshi nodded as he helped you to sit back down again.
You guys’ shower was rigged in a such a way that there were bare decorative pipes that were hanging from the ceiling with holes drilled in them that assisted in providing the rainfall effect. Toshi rigged his capture cloth expertly through those pipes and used the towel, folded, against a portion of it. Before you knew it, you were looking at a rigged swing made out of the two items. The towel was placed as a little padding for a seat of sorts and Hitoshi stood back to survey his handy work. He nodded, happy with the look of it before looking back at you with a lopsided grin. “What do you think, kitten?” He asked, reaching his hands out to help you up from the bench. “I think it’s really smart... and I think you’ve been thinking about this for much longer than on your way home.” You poked at his side with your nails, causing him to jump a little before he grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it. “Ok, ok. I’ve been thinking of what to do for a couple of weeks now, you got me.” Hitoshi admitted, pulling you close into his side. “I just... I just really, really miss you.” He said lowly. You looked into his beautiful, tired eyes, noting that they were lust blown. His purple orbs almost drowned out by dark, black pupils resembling voids. Drinking you in, full of want and need, his hand roamed your back, squeezing in a massaging manner that had your own eyes slipping shut. He felt how tight and knotted various places of your back were, frowning to himself. “I miss you so much, kitten. So fucking much.” Hitoshi was now pressed against the side of your face, gruff voice in one ear as he kneaded the skin of your sore back. “Toshi, I miss you so much too, I wish I can know about your safety the way I used to.” You were now pressed against his body, your arms around his neck while on your tippy toes to reach him better.
Hitoshi’s hands abandoned your back to glide down your hips, further below to start squeezing the backs of plush thighs as he lent down to kiss you passionately, his tongue in your mouth again, exploring every inch of it trying to memorize it even after all these years together. “I missed the way you feel against me. I absolutely crave the way you taste to the point that it’s all I think about, getting in the way of my work, do you know that, little kitten?” Toshi said against your neck before he bit down on your pulse point. Moaning, your fingers dipping into his hair where your nails grazed his scalp. “Tosh- ah!” You squeaked, Hitoshi lifting you off the shower floor as your legs and arms immediately wrapped around your hulking husband for support, swollen, large belly pressed against his chiseled abs suddenly had you feeling some type of way as you stared down at where you both pressed together. “I love you.” You said, looking up to him to find that he was already staring down at you, watching as you took in the roundness of your stomach, holding his and your baby inside you. Your eyes brimmed with tears as he walked both of you to his little set up. “I love you, too. Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” Hitoshi asked, unsure if this was something that had to do with pregnancy hormones or something he possibly did. You hugged him, warm tears falling onto his shoulder. He held his capture cloth in place as he set you down, perching you on a few bands he’d lined up to make a makeshift seat that was plush from the towel he set there. He backed up cautiously in case you’d tip in any single direction and he needed to grab at you. You went to wipe your eyes but Hitoshi was already doing it. His large hands cupping either side of your face, large enough to eclipse your delicate face easily. It would’ve looked comical in any other circumstance, but he loved the way you fit perfectly in his hands.
“Talk to me, baby girl.” He said, squatting down to be able to look at you better. His hands now at your thighs, rubbing soothingly up and down them while occasionally rubbing your belly. “I’m happy is all. I just... as a pain in the ass as it can be sometimes, I couldn’t be happier carrying our baby.” you said, another round of fat tears spilling from your face. “I’m sorry, I’m all over the place and I missed you, I’m so stupid an-“ “Hey.” Hitoshi’s tone was stern, shivers instantly running down your arms and legs so strongly that even he felt the goosebumps break out across the skin of your soft thighs. “I don’t want my kitty cat talking about herself that way,” his hands now skimmed over the tops of your thighs, slipping in between them and parting them. “I take offense when my wife is talked about in any sort of negative capacity,” he leaned in closer, you were so enraptured by what he was saying, having not been spoken to like that for what felt like forever that you weren’t even paying attention to his actions. “Even if it’s from my wife.” He licked a fat stripe up your core, able to cover more ground with his tongue flattened, a hiss of a gasp being drawn in as your feet swung from the sensation. “Toshi!” You threaded your fingers through his hair and balled your hand into a fist, pulling his hair, spurring him on as he licked more forcefully, tongue delving into your hole as he nudged himself deeper into your wetness. His hands closed around your hips and pulled you closer, the stubble of his beard rubbing against your skin deliciously as he worked like a man starved.
Toshi was giving all he had then, moaning into you, as he slurped and sucked, tasting what he longed for for weeks. His hand closed around your thigh, propping it up over his shoulder to delve deeper. Even with the shower running you could see the pre leaking from Hitoshi’s tip. Wiggling a little and masking it as movements to his actions, you take your free foot and gently rub it against his length causing him to pull away with a hiss before looking up at you through purple lashes. His eyes became lidded, grabbing that same leg and throwing it over his other shoulder before diving back in and licking with fervor. “Ah, fuck!!” You yelped, feeling as though you’d fall backwards but Hitoshi’s hands wrapped around your back and pulled you closer, anchoring you in place, assuring your safety. It was then that he started to tongue fuck you, his wet muscle delving in and out while intermittently swiping up to pay attention to your clit when his nose wasn’t bumping into it. Your moans got louder, soft thighs shaking around his head as you felt your first orgasm approaching fast.
Hitoshi wrapped one arm around your back as sturdily as he could so he could bring a free hand into the mix. Two thick fingers slid into your core, replacing his tongue as he began pumping at a brutal pace, crooking them just right. “Oh, oh God...” Your voice shook, one hand in his wet hair and the other latched onto his shoulder, nails leaving crescent moon indents into his flesh now that your legs were free. Toshi’s breathing was ragged, his mind on one goal and one only, the one thing he’d been envisioning his fingers do for the last 4 nights at the agency while he filed reports into the early morning hours. Your walls began to flutter, his lidded purple orbs flitting to yours as he came up for air, watching his wife get overtaken with pleasure. “I love you... I love you...!” Toshi panted into your pussy before you threw yourself back from the force of your orgasm, liquid gushing forward and coating his arm and then his face as he dove in to lap up what he could, instantly wrapping his arms around you again for stability so you wouldn’t fall backwards. He went from vigorous licks to kitten licks which melted into soft kisses. Kisses leading from your drenched core to your thighs and then your stomach as he rubbed loving circles into it with his thumbs, getting up from his position on the floor of the large shower, kissing the top of your head when he reached his full height. “You did so good for me, my beautiful kitten, you always do. I love you, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I love you, too.” You panted out.
He tipped your worn out, blushing face upwards to look at him, still catching your breath but not caring as you leaned forward to reach for Hitoshi’s cock before he grabbed your hands softly. “Baby, no need... w-wait till we’re done here, I’ll be raring to go again.” He smirked. In your post orgasmic haze, you didn’t even realize that from the sheer visuals and moans alone that you’d provided was enough to make him come, the water having washed away his mess. Toshi gathered both of your wash items, placing them closer on the bench in the shower before helping you down off the makeshift swing to stand before himself. He deposited some shampoo in his palm before massaging it in your scalp, washing your hair before running his hands through it to rinse it. He did the same with the conditioner, only leaving it in your hair as he washed your body lovingly. Admiring every curve and dip, no sexual drive behind his actions, just pure love before rinsing you off. When he was done, you gently guided him down on the bench so you could reach his head properly. Hitoshi stood at a whopping 6’ 1”. He was always on the taller side out of the many students at UA, coming in at 5’ 9” when you two met but as the years went on, he just kept sprouting. You were smaller compared to him, standing shorter in stature, you just reached above his shoulder when you and him stood side by side and you loved it. You loved climbing him like he was a mountain, latching onto him, your smaller frame melting and melding into his larger one, and it was one of your most favorite things in the world when he was spooning you.
A large palm came to rest against your stomach as you worked the lather in his hair, pulling you from your thoughts. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” Hitoshi asked, feeling as his unborn baby would push against wherever he’d touch. “You.” You hummed to yourself as you rinsed his hair free of the conditioner, bending to pour some body wash on his washcloth. No loofahs for Hitoshi Shinsou in your house, ‘Too damned girly’ was how he’d put it and you giggled at the thought. “What’s so funny, hm?” He grinned lopsidedly, bending to kiss your stomach with his eyes closed, lips brushing across your skin. It was moments like this that you wanted to snapshot and put away forever for you to cherish, observing the endless beauty he never seemed to know he has. At least until the silent admiration was interrupted by him pulling away and holding his chin exaggeratedly. You laughed, as you rubbed the cloth over his neck muscles to loosen him up. “She’s gonna pack a wallop, huh?” He joked, rubbing his jaw as you nodded with a smile. Hitoshi sighed as you kept working the washcloth over his upper body, his back, pressing as hard as you could which earned you some relieved of grunts. “Up, sweetie.” You stepped back a bit as Toshi stood, willing the jelly feeling you’d imparted on him out of his body. Bringing the washcloth to his abs, you rubbed, the scent of his body wash filling your senses as you got drunk off it. Your husband always smelled so nice, so warm and comforting. Like a cozy cabin tucked away in the woods on a cold winter night, it brought you comfort and safety. He watched you work, noting how you’d pause every now and again to deeply inhale his scent and with every open of your eyes, the more they lidded. When you got to his member, it was semi erect. You looked up at him and he smiled with a wink, “I told you. Gimme that, I think we’re done here.” He said as he finished up the rest of his body in record time, you giggling at his quickness as you put the items away before he tossed the washcloth back in its spot, and swooped you into his arms.
You squealed out with a laugh, Toshi minding where your stomach landed, his broad shoulders between your breasts and stomach, pushing the door open and draping a large towel over your body before bringing the both of you to your bedroom where he gently plopped you onto your large bed. He hovered over your laughing frame, watching as water dripped down from his hair onto the bed above your own head. Your laughing slowed as you noticed his silence, smiling at him and bringing a hand to his scruffy cheek to thumb gently at a scar he had over the left side of his lips leading into his chin. He turned his head and kissed inside your palm, his hand wrapped around your delicate wrist as he held it against his lips. “Turn around, kitten.” He gruffed. Hitoshi was helping you maneuver, perching onto the bed himself as he molded the front of himself to your back, his fully hardened cock prodding at your ass cheek leaving a smear of pre along your skin. Kissing along your neck and shoulders, Toshi ran a large hand from your stomach to your thigh, grabbing and propping it against his own leg which he used to open you up. Your breathing was already uneven, knowing what was coming yet not getting to you fast enough, your hips already rocking back into him for stimulation only he could provide. Hitoshi chuckled against your ear, “Does my kitty want it that bad?” He teased, reaching his hand between the two of you to pump his cock in his fist, teasing your already wet entrance. “God, you’re already soaked, baby, fuck.” He gritted out. “Toshi, stop acting like you’re not dying too and make love to me already,” you whined. “You’re always so coc- HAH!!” Your hand flung upward to latch onto the back of Hitoshi’s head which was buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder, biting into the soft skin that lay there as he jutted his hips forward and sheathed into you in one fluid movement. He gave you time to adjust, running his hand up your body, softly squeezing your breasts and lovingly rubbing your belly as he pressed more kisses into your shoulder and neck, sucking hard enough at your pulse point to leave an immediate blooming bruise.
“To- Toshi please. Please, please I need you...” You begged him as he pressed more kisses into your damp hair, his hips starting to move to create that hot friction you both craved. It seemed he was panting like a dog within seconds, thick fingers pinching your nipples as gently as he could, breast milk dribbling down the tips as he rolled them between his tips. “Fuck, kitten!” Toshi was now snapping his hips faster into you, the bed creaking with each brutal thrust. The second the headboard hit the wall for the first time, it acted as fuel for Hitoshi to go even faster. Hips rutting into you from behind so hard it hurt in the best way. He could already feel your gummy walls twitch and clamp down on him, knowing that you were getting closer with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, the way you’re taking me so -shit!- so greedily, so fuckin’ well, you really missed my cock, huh? Answer me!” He almost barked out, feeling you clamp down on him particularly hard when he did. “Fuck your cock, I missed y-you, Hitoshi!” You moaned, your nails digging into his neck. He groaned lowly, breathily whispering out, “Oh my fucking God!” before his hand came down on the swell of your ass, the sharp sting causing you to clamp down on him again a little harder. The slap didn’t pack the usual punch it did with Hitoshi’s heavy hands, but it was enough and you both noticed.
You rolled your hips into him, meeting his thrusts with your own as that wonderful feeling of a taut invisible string began to fray inside your stomach. “So good, so -y-yeah!- s-so fucking good, Toshi I- I, Godfuckinghell!! Ugh, missed you, I missed you, I-“ a broken moan tore from your throat at the feel of Hitoshi rubbing circles against your clit, his thrusts reaching inside you deeper, the prominent vein that ran along his cock sliding against your walls. His breath was coming out in puffs against your neck and cheek, groans and moans sounding out from him just the way you loved. “Mmm, kitty cat, fuck, you’re gonna cum! C’mon now, c’mon, I wanna feel you cream all over this cock, your cock, this cock belongs to you, all yours...” he reached his other hand around, gripping your throat, getting lost in the pleasure as he railed into you, watching your face for any changes in discomfort, keeping mind of the baby. Once your eyebrows slightly furrowed, he loosened his hold, allowing you to catch your breath for a few beats before starting the process again. “Cum, cum because I fucking can’t hold on much longer you’re sucking me in so goddamn good!” Toshi growled in your ear, his hand abandoning your clit for a moment to spit on his fingers just to go back to rubbing it faster than before. As your smaller hand gripped his forearm for dear life, you came undone. “Toshi, fuck!!” Hitoshi felt his thrusting cock get wetter, slipperier, as he slowed his rubbing fingers through your orgasm having released your throat long ago.
Now he began driving into you with reckless abandon, seeking his own release which wasn’t far behind in the first place. The hand that was at your throat now wrapped around your shoulder, while the one that left your clit reached up to grab at your free hand, threading his large fingers through your own. “O-oh my God, oh my God I’m gonna cum, kitten, fuck, I’m gonna cum...” sloppy hips faltered even more before he gave one last strong thrust, stilling inside you spilling his warmth in thick spurts, giving 2 more soft slow thrusts before coming to a stop. The both of you were breathing heavily, Toshi’s head dropped onto your own before he bent down a bit to kiss your shoulder, his stubble scratching at the softness of your cheek. His hair was now dry, being short, it drooped down onto his forehead. There was a fresh sheen of sweat over both of your bodies, especially on his chest and your back. “I love you.” You said, your breaths coming out fast but not as harsh as before. Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you, pressing you into his almost too warm body, nuzzling in your semi damp hair inhaling deeply, “I love you, too. So fucking much, don’t ever forget it. I’m sorry I’ve been away so much, I just...” You shook your head, opening your eyes halfway. “No. I know why you do it. I can’t ever convey how much it means to me that you’re working your ass off for proper time with me and little Anzu once she gets here. Do I miss you? Of course I miss you, I miss you terribly. I also miss working with you. I never realized how spoiled I truly am until it came time for me to stay home from work. Getting to see you every single day, work alongside you, be out in the public eye with you... I never realized that I spend every moment with you. And now that I can’t, it has me a bit out of sorts I guess you could say.” You confessed, your eyes heavily lidded with sleepiness, voice soft and gentle.
The bed suddenly shifted, Hitoshi launching himself over your body and plopping next to you to face you causing you to squeak out in shock. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow, passionate kiss. Your smaller hands planted against his chest, fingers rubbing lovingly before scooting closer to him where he wrapped his arms around you instinctively. “I’m almost done, sweetheart. Just one more week, maybe even sooner if Anzu comes before then. And hey, if you want, I can help you train up again my agile, telekinetic kitten. Would you like that?” He asked into your hair at the top of your head. You hummed softly and he looked down having felt your hand slip off his chest and go limp, joining your other arm pressed against him and the bed. You were fast asleep, your breathing slow and deep as Toshi took a moment to look at you, large hand caressing from your head to your shoulder, only to glide down your back where he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the both of you, snuggling your body closer to his. “And I thought I was the one who got into people’s minds. I don’t deserve you, baby girl.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your mouth before perching his head atop yours and falling asleep just as quick. You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his hand grasp yours and pull it to his lips, “I’m here, baby. I’m still here.” Hitoshi said as he cradled it in his own, pressed against his chest, a small smile gracing your lips before slipping back into the warmth of his embrace.
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mah-gah-lee · 3 years
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You’re such a bitch - (Charlie Gillespie x reader)
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Word Count: 2486 Request: no, again @jatpsmut​ inspired me with his fic “What Happens in Hawaii Stays in Hawaii - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (SMUT - 18+)”. I asked her if I could use the Hawaii idea and now I am writing this!
However, some details change from the original fic:
“Charlie and y/n haven't been best friends since they were kids, but from the first season of jatp. y/n is an additional actor on Julie and the Phantoms, also a dancer. Charlie didn't confess his feelings to y/n in Hawaii.
The only thing I got from the idea of @jatpsmut​ is the fact that something happened in Hawaii. So thank you to her for writing this incredible fic, without it this could not happen Summary: You and Charlie were best friends and roommates in LA. One evening, you heard it with a girl, the next morning, everything is awkward, bitchy and everything changes. Warnings: mention of sexual activities - language disclaimer: I don't know Charlie or his family personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Charlie's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…). All of this is not the reality
 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know ! 
--- 
You try to focus on the TV show you were watching, but obviously your roommate had company. And that company was way too loud in your opinion. You were rolling your eyes in annoyance when suddenly your phone vibrates, displaying the blonde head of your second best friend. If there was one thing you miss since you came back to live to Los Angeles, it was obviously living with this sarcastic character. Vancouver seemed so far away to you. You picked up your phone and Owen's face appeared.
 “Hi sweetie.” Owen told you with a smile “Oh, hey… Why that face?” he clearly noticed your annoyance. "Hi O." you said before complaining "Ugh, I miss living with you in Vancouver so much" "Yeah me too. We had so much fun. But hey, I'm sure we'll have a season two." "I hope so much"
You were an extra cast member on Julie and the Phantoms, you also were a dancer on the first season, just as Tori. You wished so much Owen was right about Jatp season 2 renew but Netflix seemed to enjoy making you patient. But the coronavirus had also literally messed up all your plans. However, you were angry, some series came out long after yours and got renewed while yours stayed on hold. It was clear that fans of the series as much as you were just waiting for the renewal of season two.
A moan came out of Charlie's bedroom with the sound of a bouncing mattress, you rolled your eyes again, groaning with a sort of anger.
"Jesus Christ ..." you complained "Wait, y/n, what's that sound?" “You know what I miss most about living with you in Vancouver O’? Rule #3. " “Rule #3? Rule #3" he seemed to think about what you said when he finally realized "Oh ... Oh! Rule #3! Wait.. Oh my God! Is Charlie being with a chick right now? ” He asked you with stupefaction. "Oh I wish you were wrong"
A laugh came out from you best friend mouth and you gave him a killer look through the screen, making him laugh harder. When you were in Vancouver, living with two boys forced you to set limits and rules for living. The first was; everyone cleans up their own mess. Second, the housework takes turns. Third rule: no one-night stand allowed in the flat. Surprisingly as it may seem, this rule had been followed very well by everyone. But at the same time, the boys' schedules really didn't make time to bring anyone home, and then after all, they were professional. But as soon as Charlie returned from his parents' quarantine, he forgot the existence of this rule, as if it did not apply to Los Angeles. It wasn't like he brought a different girl home every night, or even every month. It might have been the second or third time since you had moved in. But this situation embarrassed you more than you might have thought.
“Owen, don't make fun of me. I've been hearing them for about an hour now. " "Poor you. Now you understand how I felt in Hawaii" he smirked at you. "Wait, what did you say?" you asked him, in shocked. "Oh please y/n ... you heard me clearly"
Of course, you had heard what he said, but you were in shock at the revelation, so you needed confirmation. This story was supposed to be a secret between you and Charlie. The fact that Owen mentioned it could only assume two things.
"Did you hear us in Hawaii?" “I was in the room next door! Of course, I heard you. It's not like you and Charlie are the quietest couple ever having sex ... " "It seems Charlie is the loudest one…" you said, referring to your best friend having sex in the next bedroom. "Oh darling please, I can remind you of what you said that night. You two gave me nightmares." "Please don't. I feel so embarrassed right now"
Last year you went to Hawaii with several cast members and Kenny. A booking error forced you to share a bed with Charlie. It seemed that sleeping with a girl seemed more adequate than two boys sleeping in the same bed. Charlie and Owen had avoided that possibility the second the problem had arisen. One thing leading to another, after a few strong cocktails, you and the dark-haired boy had ended up having a horny night. The shame caused the next day made you both never talk about it again and "what happened in Hawaii will stay in Hawaii". You didn’t know that Owen heard you and it seems that boy can keep a secret for so long now.
The problem was that that night you realized that you felt more than an attraction to your roommate. It went beyond friendship or mere sexual tension at the sight of this Canadian. You wanted every aspect of what you might have experienced with Charlie and more: the laughs, the funny times, the lots of talking, the quiet times watching a movie or just playing Nintendo Switch, the sex. But you also wanted the PDAs, the feelings, just being with him like his girlfriend. But the actor was totally oblivious to your feelings for him, and you didn't even want to try to make him understand it on his own. You just created a shell for yourself and buried your feelings deep within yourself.
 “I don’t understand y/n. Why didn’t you tell him your feeling?” “Because I know he doesn’t love me back, O.” “Oh come on! You two are the most stubborn people I ever met!”
Again, for the third time tonight, you've rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure Charlie didn't feel the same way you did. Since Hawaii, neither of you had stepped forward towards each other, but sometimes your behaviors showed that you were more than friends. Another moan was heard from Charlie’s room and Owen's face on the screen was memorable. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.
"Okay, y/n. I'm sorry but I don't want to keep talking to you and hear my other best friend hooking up at the same time ..."
 You laughed and he hung up the phone not forgetting to say goodbye. You tried to focus on your screen again, your headphones being way too far away for you to catch them. Minutes later you finally heard the distinctive sound of Charlie's orgasm and knew you were finally going to be able to sleep.
 …
The next morning you woke up with a high level of fatigue. You casually walk to the kitchen to make coffee. While you were pouring yourself a cup of this much-desired black liquid, a person entered the kitchen.
 "Who the fuck are you?"
You raised an eyebrow, bringing your mug to your lips. The girl looked at you with a disgusted face.
"Roommate, darling. Not nice to meet you." "Why the hell are you wearing his shirt?"
A smirk appears on your lips, far too happy that she asked the question. When you were in Vancouver, it wasn't surprising to see you wearing the boys' t-shirts, although you had a preference for Charlie's, there were times when you wore Owen's. The boys never complained about this mania and you had to continue when you moved to Los Angeles with Charlie. The scene was pretty funny, you were there drinking your coffee in a t-shirt borrowed from your roommate while his conquest from last night stared at you in disgust, decked out in another Charlie t-shirt. You took a look at the Looney Tunes t-shirt you were wearing and just shrug your shoulders.
 “Old habits.” You simply said. "Yeah, you're gonna have to break this habit."
You laughed disdainfully. You didn't like this girl. Not because it was the conquest of your best friend for whom you had blatant romantic feelings. But rather because she had this condescension and believed that spending a night with Charlie gave her every right.
 "What makes you think that, sweetie?"
 You leaned against the kitchen counter, your posture offhand, a smirk on your lips. You weren't used to being such a bitch, but the girl in front of you pissed you off. And it was only nine in the morning.
 "Well, hello, I spent the night with Charlie." "Oh yeah sure, but that doesn't mean you're dating him." "Charlie is a great guy"
She wasn't wrong. Charlie wasn't heartbroken but he was still human and a twenty-two-year-old boy. Just looking at her you knew your best friend hadn't chosen her for a serious relationship with her. The little conversation you were having with her now confirmed that he couldn't date her. Another smirk spread across your lips as she looked at you with disdain again.
 "Who the fuck do you think you are? You are nowhere near his level" she said to you
This time, you couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. Yeah, she really pissed you off. Physically, she was everything Charlie didn't like about a potential girlfriend: big breasts, much bigger than him, slightly shallow. Oh but she had a fucking ass and maybe that was why he had chosen her. Her whole body reflected Charlie's choice for a one-night stand, but not the ideal girlfriend.
 "Oh honey, I'm nobody, but neither are you. Listen. You were just a one-night stand and me? Me, I'll still be here in his apartment with his t-shirts on when he brings you home, telling you that it was cool but that it will not go further. I will always be there ... "
Charlie woke up and headed straight for the kitchen. He greeted her conquest with a nod, giving her a hello. Instinctively, he approached you and put his hand on your waist before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Charlie was tactile, it was his language of love. You couldn't help but smirk at the girl, giving her a victorious look. The actor looked at your outfit and a smile appeared on his lips.
 "So that's where it was! I thought I lost it in the Galapagos." he was referring to his looney tunes t-shirt
Your attention fell on Charlie and you smiled happily at him. You cheekily handed your cup of coffee.
"Coffee?" "Hell, yeah"
He grabbed your cup and took a long sip, leaving his conquest almost nonexistent to his eyes. The girl was so pissed off that she seemed to be boiling. She cleared her throat, annoyed.
 "Hmm, I'm going to go" she said. "Oh wait, let me have lunch and I'll bring you back if you want." "It won't be necessary."
You bit the tip of your tongue, amused, far too happy to hide it. Charlie's conquest returned to his room to get dressed. Your roommate turned to you and gave you a questioning look.
"y/n, what did you do?" "Nothing. We were happily getting know each other. I'm surprised at your choice, by the way" "Are you getting revenge?" "Get revenge for what?" "Since ... Hawaii, you've scared all the girls I've brought back." "Did I scare them? Stop, I haven't acted any differently than usual." “You scared them away,” he repeated. "Oh come on, Charlie, please, it's not like you're going to date them."
 He pulled away from you with a look of dismay. You were not wrong, he had never called back the girls he had brought back here, he did not intend to call back the one who was currently in his room. In fact, the only person he really wanted to spend time with was you. But since Hawaii, you seemed to be okay with never mentioning your night together again. This Canadian boy has been in love with you for months, maybe even years now. It quickly fell for you when you were in Vancouver.
"You're right. But I could have ..." he finally confessed "It's wrong. You know it's wrong Charlie, I know you, I'm your best friend. These are not the kind of girls you date. "Yeah… I couldn't date any of them. They just aren't you." He said, his last sentence ending in a whisper before hastening to take a sip from your cup of coffee.
You were paralyzed. Did he really just say what you've been dreaming of hearing for months? Did he just drop it like a bomb, in the middle of a morning conversation between sips of coffee?
“Wait, what?” “Nothing” “It wasn’t nothing, Charlie, you said something” “Nothing important” he repeats “Did you just say that if you didn’t date those girls it’s because they weren’t me?” “You seems to hear voices” “Charlie, I’m not joking… Did you say that?!” “Maybe” “Oh fuck, you’re an idiot!” “I am a..”
You snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and hurriedly put it on the counter. Never mind about the stains on the floor, you will clean up later. You didn't want to miss a second of this possibility. You wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck before resting your lips on his. Your best friend seemed surprised at first so much but quickly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around your waist as your lips moved to give the kiss more tender. The situation was most strange and funny; you were kissing your best friend, running your fingers through his long brown hair. You had to admit that even though you had found him attractive with his Luke's look but you couldn't imagine Charlie without that impressive mass of hair. Luke had short hair, Charlie had long hair. End of the discussion.
So, you were kissing your roommate, making up for lost time while in his room, a girl he had fucked the night before gathered her things. Charlie's conquest stepped out to head for the exit. You broke the kiss making Charlie growl in protest.
"I'm not showing you where the door is." you said. "whore .." the chick whispered.
Charlie stepped away from you and brought his one-night stand to the door, apologizing. He wasn't that kind of boy to go from girl to girl and the circumstances were really strange. The girl left, not without forgetting to curse him. When Charlie walks into the kitchen, you were sitting on the counter, a smirk on your face.
"You're such a bitch y/n" “It's my revenge for keeping me awake last night.” 
His gaze was sly, his smile was mischievous and you knew he was going to find a phrase worthy of the fucking boy he could be. 
"I can keep you awake for a while if you want." “A date wouldn't be too complicated, Charlie. Please be a gentleman. "You can count on me"
He gave you a softer look and you wrapped your arms around his neck again before kissing him. Ultimately, not everything that happened in Hawaii has to be restricted to Hawaii.
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gojology · 3 years
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The Start of Winter Break. (18+)
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𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I FEEL RLLY SAD CUZ I WANTED TO DO THE SUKUNA BUT I DONT KNOW THE STORY ON ALADDIN SO I OPTED FOR 2 INSTEAD IM SORRY ANON. anyways i wanted to feed u guys rlly well and actually took the time to write and edit. I’M REFORMED also writing on google docs is so hard?? (reposting cuz i think im shadowbanned)
𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 3798
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Food Play, Nipple Play, Oral (Fem Receiving), Degrading Nicknames (I didn’t really proof read that hard but I know there’s like, a mention of one nickname along the lines of that.)
𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | It’s the first day of Winter Break, and you want to surprise Gojo with a cup of hot cocoa, instead, Gojo surprises you.       Blinking your eyes furiously, you adjusted to the dark room. Immediately, you breathe a sigh of relief. You didn’t have to wake up at such an early hour, and for once you woke up refreshed. It was finally the first day of Winter Break, you had overworked yourself, making sure that you were to spend the end of the year work-free and available for as many Christmas parties you wanted to attend.        Yawning, stretching as you did so, you look over your shoulder. There’s a slight smile dawning on Gojo’s lips.  His long eyelashes fluttered when he slept. He slightly snored, grabbing at where you once slept in his arms.   The room was unusually cold. You had always awoke to sunlight streaming from the window, realizing that could only mean that another day of work was ahead of you. But now, the room was dim, and freezing might you add. You couldn’t wait to snuggle with Gojo, this was perfect cuddle weather.   Tearing your eyes away from Gojo’s pretty face, you instead looked at the door. Years of photos with Gojo absolutely slathered the poor thing, past memories all flickering before your eyes. Pictures in Disneyland, bright colors in contrast with the rather dark clothes he always seemed to wear.   Once in a while, you would see pictures of Yuuji, Shoko, Megumi, Nobara, just about every Tokyo Jujutsu Tech School member there was, and even Utahime, celebrating good times with Gojo.      You didn’t find yourself in many of the pictures, but the ones you did find yourself happened to be some of your fondest memories.   Far more common were pictures of you, with ridiculous, shit, you’d even go as far as to say downright ugly faces while he told you a stupid joke were also taped sloppily, some photos were even slanted.    Gojo had made it a firm promise to take pictures of you when you least expected it, because that’s when he always found you the cutest.   You peek at Gojo’s sleeping face once more, a slight giggle rising from your throat that you struggled to silence. His mouth, slightly agape, was now drooling onto the pillow he oh so gracefully rested on.     Jerking your head up and snapping out of your Gojo daze, you realized that you were supposed to make your daily morning coffee for you and him today. You had chewed him out multiple times, telling him that the way he made coffee was nauseating. Usually, Gojo would always accompany the bitter drink with 8 sugarcubes, which was not your thing.   He always seemed to forget, honestly you couldn’t really tell with him, giving you a mug of absurdly sweetened coffee every morning. You always foolishly assumed that he had listened to you from the last scolding, so you would always sip it, letting the coffee coat your pallet, but promptly spit it out as soon as you realized how sickly sweet it was.     “Satoru! This is too sweet!”   “Honeybun, you’re the sweetest thing in this room, what do you mean the coffee could be too sweet? Not possible.” he would inquire innocently, tilting his head to the side.   You’d frown, shaking your head and muttering about the acts of distaste you’d do to him before Gojo bursts into a fit of laughter, pointing at you and watching you unenthusiastically look back. Most likely fuming silently, but you didn’t want to tell him that.   “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, (Y/N).”     “Satoru, I can literally not survive the day without coffee. Whatever you’re serving me is definitely not the coffee I want, and sooner or later I’ll be dropping dead.”     He would shrug playfully, as if he didn’t even understand the core concepts of what you were trying to tell him. But you knew he did, he just didn’t want to do it.    You would clench your fists, trying to look threatening. Your back straightening, and on your tippy toes even though you knew you could never be as tall as him. It never ever worked though, he would just continue to laugh harder, but that was just the routine.    “Then do it yourself, sweetie. I wake up at the asscrack of dawn just to make you a cup of coffee. I don’t know about you, but that’s the best show of love.”      “Oh I will. I’ll do it well.”      And so, you weren’t lying. The two of you began to take turns. You woke up even earlier than you did for work, and made him his coffee (with extra sugar, just as he likes it) while also making yours, making sure to relish the bitter and frankly delicious black drink, void of any sweetening. The next day, he would as well. He never listened to your sugar lectures though, making sure to add 3-4 cubes just to make you angry.    You had pretty much given up on all hope of ever getting your ideal coffee from Satoru, it was beyond him to even listen. Besides, you had grown to like the sweetness.   Speaking of brown sweet liquids, it was a perfect hot cocoa morning. The snow was beginning to pile up outside, pure white blanketing just about everything. You hastily threw on an oversized sweater Gojo owned, which you had found strewn on the ground.   You rolled your eyes, that guy was a mess. What would he do without you?   Trudging and stumbling your way into the kitchen like a newborn fawn, you flicked on the lights. As soon as the lights came on, you shielded your eyes from the brightness. Cursing as you pulled out a chair, your eyes slowly adjusting, pulling the chair over to the shelves and cabinets out of reach.   Now standing on the wooden chair, you grumbled. So much for being a good girlfriend, your legs ached for some reason, so every time you stood on your tippy toes, you winced.   Knocking down a bottle of vegetable oil into the sink, you were startled by such an incredibly loud noise. Your eyes widen and your legs tangle as you scramble, almost falling backwards. Grabbing onto the cabinet’s ledge, you breathed a sigh of relief as the chair stabilized.    This was a blessing in disguise, as the chocolate syrup came into view.   A feeling of triumph flooding you, you happily hummed gently pulling it out. Setting it down on the counter, you got down, moving the chair over to the right.   Standing back onto the chair, you placed a finger on your lips, slightly rubbing them. Your memory wasn’t doing you very well, forgetting where all the extra add-ons for baked goods were.   Your tongue stuck out to the side, swinging a random cabinet’s doors wide open. You had guessed correctly, sprinkles of various vivid colors stood idly, eye-catching colors on full display. A fine coat of dust had settled on the caps.   You coughed into your arm, now rummaging through the many sprinkles that Gojo would insist on buying because, “they were too cute to pass up.”      Sometimes, you swore the guy was a middle-aged Pinterest mom.   Yanking out a half opened bag of Jumbo Marshmallows, you did a small victory dance. Normally, Gojo would inhale the darned things, but he was asleep, and very soundly at that. Finally able to have your first taste of marshmallows in a while, you popped a couple in your mouth, practically melting.   So sweet.   Strolling over to the fridge while popping more marshmallows in your mouth, you lazily threw the bag onto the counter. Swinging the fridge door wide open, you shivered at the cold air, hauling a jug of milk out.   As usual, it was half full. Gojo would insist on eating all his cookies with milk, and if he didn’t have milk with his cookies, he would not eat them, stating that it was against his beliefs to even begin to stare at a cookie without a cold glass of milk at the side.   He was probably a 9 year old trapped in a 28 year olds body.   Humming a short tune, you poured the milk into a mug that Gojo had bought for you as a souvenir on a business trip. Painted onto it was a beautiful scene. Flourishing, vibrant flowers only half-heartedly concealing an undisturbed pond, deers frolicking around it. The mug was your favorite cup, and even Gojo, who most likely had the memory span of a goldfish when it came to unnecessary facts such as this one, knew it.   You flipped the chocolate syrup bottle upside down, smacking the top. Making a note to yourself to buy chocolate syrup the next time you went out. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer.   “Boo.”   Startled, you twirled around, expecting a rather friendly home invader, or something along the lines of that. Instead, you were greeted with Gojo Satoru’s face. Satoru’s eyebrow twitches, looking at you with an amused expression.   “Scared? We’re on the same boat.” he snickered, “woke up to some loud ass bang.” Gojo sleepy whispered into your ear, ruffling your hair with his large, calloused hands. His chin now resting on your right shoulder.     “I dropped the vegetable oil on accident.” You ignored the light, fluttering feeling when he touched you.     “Gosh, you’re a clumsy one aren’t you, sugar?”       Scoffing, you whip your head back to the hot chocolate. An unhealthy serving of chocolate syrup was splattered inside the mug, already blending with the milk.   “Don’t turn your back on me, pumpkin.” whining playfully, tugging at your left shoulder. There was something about such a playful, childish Gojo that you loved. You wished you got to see it more often.    You pretend to be annoyed, looking at him, now standing up without the support of your shoulder, in the eye now. A flicker of mischievousness over his face, he looks down at you.   “How thoughtful.” kissing your temple, he yawned. “Making hot chocolate for me? Oh hey- you even got the exact same amount of chocolate I like.”   “Satoru.” hands on your hips, you were bemused. How could one even like sugar this much?    “This is an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup, and can NOT be good for you.”   His warm gaze stared back, a slight curve to his lips now. You swear you could die a happy girl now, Gojo wasn’t sleepy very often, so when he was, you made sure to relish it. Usually, when you were lucky enough to be in the presence of a sleepy Gojo, he was always softer. Giving you small, coy smiles. Your retort didn’t even seem to register in his brain in the slightest.   “I want it, though.”   You sighed, facepalming.     “Ooooh, marshmallows!” suddenly bursting with energy he never exhibited before seeing the sugary treat, his long arm extended over to the bag, tugging at it to get it closer to him before finally shoving 3 or more into his mouth.   “Satoru!” you yank his hand back from the entrance of his mouth, able to save a few, albeit a bit ugly and smooshed, marshmallows.   “Wha?” he rubbed his eyes, chewing noisily on the marshmallows he was lucky enough to get into his mouth.   “Baby. We need those marshmallows, here, can you microwave a bowl of them? Save a few for later.”   He nodded obediently, tugging a bowl out of the “washed dishes” section of the sink. Wiping it down sloppily with a towel. He dug his hand into the marshmallow bag, throwing a few handfuls into the bowl before carefully placing the bowl into a microwave, sneaking a few more into his mouth before jabbing at a few buttons.    “There.” he gave you a crooked grin and a thumbs up, walking back over to you, placing warm fingers against your cheek, suddenly jumping back.   “Holy shit, babygirl, you’re cold.”   About to respond, you too realized how cold you were. Lightly shivering, your hands seemed to be blocks of ice.   “Babe, can you go get an extra sweater-”   Hands under your sweater (well, technically his) suddenly, his warm, big hands massaged your breasts. You yelped, the hot contact against your cold skin was electrifying. His thumbs, rubbing over your nipples lazily, sent even more shivers down your spine. Quietly moaning, you looked back at Gojo, who seemed to thoroughly savor every little sound you made.   “Like that, lil girl~?”   “S-Satoru! Not now… I’m making you s-something!”   “Hot cocoa doesn’t take a chef to make.” he placed kisses on your neck, lightly suckling on your bare skin.   “I-I know, but just… N-not now.” you stammered, he was now tweaking your nipples, gently pulling them. He didn’t seem to register the request though, but instead was drawing lazily  on your breast.   “That better, missy?” he questioned, watching you catch your breath and gulp. Resting his chin on your shoulder once more.   “Mmmmm.” you responded, thoroughly enjoying his warm touch. Closing your eyes, enjoying the mystifying feeling his hands always gave you.    Loudly, the microwave beeped. Suddenly jumping up from the loud occurrence, Gojo cursed under his breath and jogged over to the microwave, swinging the handle open.   “Great news, (Y/N). I didn’t burn the marshmallows!”   Grumbling under your breath, and wishing all hell to the microwave for disrupting such an intimate event, you nodded, giving him a few weak claps for his rather stupid achievement. Gesturing for him to bring the bowl over, you pulled out a spoon from the drawer beneath you.   As soon as Gojo placed the bowl on the counter, he zoomed back to where he had left off, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. This time, he was massaging one of your shoulders.   Your breathing was heavier when he did this, Gojo noted, watching as you struggled to mix the chocolate syrup and milk together. He did this for a while, eyeing the cooling marshmallow.   He swiped up a dollop, wiping it down your neck. Letting out a gasp by the sudden warmth, you assumed it was Gojo’s mouth. To your surprise, it wasn’t.   He licked the cloud of fluff, before straight up placing his entire mouth on it, lightly sucking and licking your skin. Your panties were getting awfully wet.   “L-love, we n-need the fluff to a-add the finishing touch to t-the hot cocoa.” you would mutter, trying not to collapse from the pleasure.   “You getting wet?” now lightly nibbling on your skin, his hand left your breast, dunking his hand underneath the fabric of your panties. He sneered, realizing the puddle that had seeped itself into the material.   “Aw, you’re absolutely wet. Fuck am I saying?” he swirled his finger around your entrance, lightly dipping one of his fingers in before he took it out. Whimpering, your walls clenched around something that wasn’t there.   “Anyways, let's get back to the hot cocoa!” innocently licking his glistening finger, he looked at you.   ‘What? Y-you can’t do that to me-!”   “Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chirped back, smiling devilishly.   “That’s what I wanted before-”   “Hush up, slut.” he rubbed your head with one hand, the other, stroking your cheek.     You didn’t realize how hot you got when he called you a slut, whimpering, the hot cocoa long forgotten on the counter as you leaned into his chest.     “Aw, you’re so cute.” tugging on your cheeks softly, you look up at him, while he looked down. Even though you were his girlfriend, you didn’t really see his eyes often. They were a brilliant shade of aquamarine, flecks of a darker blue were also sprinkled amongst the sea of various shades of blue.   “You want something? You’re giving me those puppy eyes.” Still pulling at your cheeks, he stared down patiently, unable to hide the smile on his face.   “I hate when you tease me.” you blurt out, surprisingly coherent, even though Gojo was pinching your cheek. Another flicker of amusement on his face.   “That’s not how you ask for something you want.”   He stopped pinching your cheeks, now staring at you. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking about, his face was blank, eyes cloudy.   “Mmm, I’ll give you one last chance before you get punished. Now missy, what do you want?”   You tugged at the hem of his pants, still making eye contact.   “You can’t have that, sweetie.” he straightened you back up, so that you weren’t leaning on his chest any longer. “It’s way too early.”   “Then what was the point of teasing me?” you groaned, clasping your hands together and looking at him. “Please?” you were sure to have your eyelashes flutter.   He laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, princess.”   You groaned, getting down onto the cold floor, getting onto your knees, looking at his pleasurably entertained face.   “...What about now?”    He chuckled, rubbing your head again. “No, baby. I’m just not in the mood, but I can make a recommendation that works with me. Although, you’re really cute when you’re on your knees for me.”   You nodded, nervously anticipating whatever he wanted to do.   You didn’t need to wait, though, he carried you over to the table, like a princess, unclothing you quickly. Throwing his sweater onto the floor once again, you felt your heart jump a little. A small pile of clothing consisting of the sweater, your panties, and a t-shirt was crumpled up on the floor.   He cupped your breasts, leaning over the table to look at them. His expression softened, placing delicate kisses on each breast, making you gasp a little.   “So cute.” whispering, rubbing your nipples once again.   Your hands found their home in Gojo’s hair, now clenching onto his snowy white locks. He grunted a little as you pushed his head further into your chest, effectively telling you to start suckling on the now slightly abused domes.    “Just a sec, (Y/N).” extending his impossibly long limbs to grab the marshmallow fluff bowl, his long fingers danced at the rim, then pulled it closer to his chest. Yanking the spoon out of the bowl, he spread the lukewarm fluff on your body, you weren’t expecting such warmth, and you let out a yelp, realizing what he was slathering onto you.   “Satoru! D-did you forget what I said e-earlier?”   “Nope, I just don’t care.” sadistically grinning, he ducked his head down, the space between your breasts and his face non existent. He had practically smooshed himself into your embrace, your arms around his head. He was good with his tongue, you had to admit, too good.   Goosebumps grew on your skin, no matter how many times you two fucked senseless, he still had such an effect on you. His tongue swirling around your nipple, fingers rubbing and teasing the other. You felt his hot breath against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think how good it felt.     Strands of hair tickled you as he began to noisily slurp, before coming back up again. Your breast was glistening with spit, few thin lines of marshmallow fluff left over. He licked them up, before scooping up a few dollops of marshmallow fluff onto you, looking hungrily at the attention-starved breast, before diving back down. Fingers now giving the spoiled nipple almost close to 0 action.     He licked the hard nipple a few more times before sucking onto it, as if he was a baby. I mean, he probably was. Afterall, he was a manchild. Regardless, you found yourself heavily breathing, hugging his head like it was the last thing you’d ever do. His teeth lightly nibbled, making you jump a little. Now biting onto it, you squealed.   He glanced up, before going back down, licking the sensitive bud. You felt a rush near your lower regions, a familiar warmth rushed to your cheeks.   “S-Satoru! I think I’m gonna-!”   You weren’t even going to finish the sentence, the white, hot liquid pooling out of you as soon as you uttered a few words. Gojo’s attention was now focused on you, before looking down.   “Woah, lil girl. That’s a large mess. I didn’t know your pussy needed any attention.” he directed his gaze towards your pussy, spreading the folds and softly examined it.   “How pretty.” he muttered, he flicked his thumb on your clit, making you moan loudly.   “FUCK!” you threw a hand over your mouth, he laughed, his breath tickling you.    “You’re really wet.”   Without any warning before hand, he dove in between your legs, beginning to noisily slurp at your folds, dipping his tongue into your entrance.   You began to practically scream louder, you were fuzzy, your body, your mind, everything. Unable to cover your moans, you began to grimace at the stares your neighbors would give you when you went out for the mail. Gojo would laugh, telling you that, “He was just trying to show the world you were his.” and not pay any mind, cursing him for being so skilled, you struggled to contain all the noises you were making.   You felt his tongue tease your entrance playfully, flicking your clit a few times for extra measure, you were now wildly thrashing, and you knew Gojo couldn’t wait to ridicule you over dinner.   About to straight up shove his head closer into you, his tongue finally stuck inside of you. Letting out a sigh of relief mixed with added pleasure, he skillfully lapped at your juices. Noisily slurping away at you, he glanced up.    You were trying to sit up, but were struggling as you did so. The waves of pleasure sent you crashing back down onto the table.   You felt him exhale through his nose, tickling you once again. He closed the little space between you and his face, as soon as he was in contact with your skin, you wrapped your legs around his back, trying to close the distance that wasn’t there.   Now, his tongue was reaching you in places you’d never think he would. Flush, hot skin was sweating against the table surface, but you paid no mind, promising yourself to wipe the top later. Hair strands practically glued to the sides of your head due to the sweat, you whined again, feeling yourself close to cumming.   You were about to speak again, warning Gojo, but you couldn’t. Before the words could even spill out of your mouth, you felt yourself burst.   Gojo, seemingly unaware, was still lapping at your walls. You looked at him, breathing heavily. His eyes widened, and you felt him stop licking for a while, before you saw him gulp and stand back up.   His eyes twinkled a little in the light, and you straightened, sitting on the table, your heart still beating rapidly.   “You never told me you were gonna cum.”   You turned your head to the side, about to retort, before you realized the empty bowl of marshmallow fluff.   “Satoru! I told you to not use it all!” (resposting because i think im shadowbanned, please interact if u saw this!)
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