#still hate the album name and cover but sigh it could be worse i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamaisjoons · 5 years

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heart haunting | myg

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you’re in love with min yoongi. you are sure of this. so why does your past lover still haunt your memories? 〞established relationship au

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: yoongi x reader; slight seokjin x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst (god, so much angst) ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: yoongi being an absolute sweetheart, reader with lots of guilt and lowkey self-hatred, general sadness, emotional cheating? is that a thing?, swearing because it’s me, smut but this one is tame bois, blowjob, fingering (f. receiving), ass play (this is as kinky as it gets), slight dirty talk, cum swallowing, penetration, multiple orgasms, creampie

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: WHAT IS UP DEMONS!!!! a bitch is finally off her exam induced writing hiatus and we start with a SAD BANG and the first instalment of the mixtape series, this took so much out of me and i went through so many emotions but i hope you enjoy it!!!!

⇥ part of the mixtape series

⏤ unedited

It’s a late Tuesday night when you find yourself on your back on Yoongi’s desk in his recording studio, so aptly named the ‘Genius Lab’. Yoongi is hovering over you, his long dexterous fingers flitting over your waist as you squeal and cry out underneath him. Your melon flavoured ice-cream has long since been abandoned, melting away on the opposite corner of Yoongi’s desk as you gasp out under his small but lean figure. Briefly, you wonder how you’d gotten yourself into this situation. Just five minutes ago, Yoongi had been hunched over his desk, large headphones covering his small ears as his slender digits played with the buttons on his various music recording and producing paraphernalia.

“Oh my god, Yoongi stop! I’m going to pee” You squeal as Yoongi continues tickling your sides, his facial features above you twisted in a gummy smile as he laughs. You place your palms on his chest and attempt to push him away, slightly kicking your legs to try and get him away from you before you truly pee yourself.

“Not until you take back what you said” Yoongi says, his fingers moving even faster and you let out a choked gasp as he forcefully draws out more squeals of laughter from you.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry for saying Namjoon is a better rapper than you are, now please let me go. I can’t breathe” You shriek as you finally cave in. Yoongi’s hands still, but they stay where they are, rested just above your hip bones. You gasp in deeply for air as you try to catch your breath before sending him a tender smile. Yoongi responds with his own gummy one before he leans down and steals your breath once again, except this time with a soft kiss. He continues peppering kisses all over your face, dropping light pecks on your cheeks before repeatedly kissing your forehead.

“I love you” Yoongi whispers and you nod before you lean up and kiss him again.

“Mmmm, same” You reply and Yoongi presses a kiss just on the corner of your lips before pulling himself off of you. You sit up and begin fixing your clothing as Yoongi takes his seat back on his swivelling chair, his headphones now perched around his neck.

“So, what are you working on?” You ask curiously and Yoongi sends you a small smile before beckoning you closer. You hop off of his desk and walk over to him, Yoongi adjusting himself so you can sit on his lap. Once you’re seated and in a comfortable position, he places the headphones around your ears and clicks play. You hear the slow, mellow beat begin; bopping your head to the rhythm. It has the feel of an old school RnB track and you look at him in surprise causing him to shrug.

“I was taking a break from the new album and decided to play around with new beats… or I guess experiment with old school beats” Yoongi says and you nod, taking the headphones off.

“It’s good! Do you have the lyrics for it yet?” You ask curiously and he shrugs once again.

“Not sure, nothing I have right now matches the rhythm so I’ll probably play around with it more before adding lyrics or even showing it to Namjoon and Hoseok” Yoongi informs and you nod once again. Your eyes briefly glance at the clock, widening slightly.

“Fuck, how is it already half past midnight? You wanna come home with me? It’s been a while since you’ve been over” You ask as you begin clearing away the takeout you’d both had for dinner. Yoongi continues playing around with the various buttons on his piece of tech before humming noncommittally.

“I was going to stay and work for a bit longer. You know I’m dropping my new album soon” Yoongi replies and you let out a sigh. That was one of the only downsides dating a famous and award-winning solo rapper and producer. Yoongi loved his fans and he loved making music even more. You knew how important this was to him, making his music and being a rapper had always been his dream and you were respectful of that. But most likely he hadn’t been home in days, and it had been even longer since you slept in the same bed. You missed the feel of him next to you, his strong arms wrapped around you, your body close to his own. Besides… if Yoongi wasn’t next to you, you didn’t sleep very well. And if you were faced with another sleepless night, haunted by your dreams, you were sure you’d lose the final shred of your sanity.

“Yoongi, you haven’t been home in days. And those bags under your eyes tell me that you’ve barely slept too. You’ve got all the tracks ready and you’re just editing the final touches, you can come home with me” You try and argue but Yoongi shakes his head.

“I know! But it’s dropping in less than two weeks and it needs to be perfect” Yoongi retorts and your heart pounds nervously at the thought of another night without him by your sight.

“Yoongi, I miss you. I miss sleeping with you. Please, just come home” You reply, your voice small and Yoongi turns to you. He detects the slight nervousness in your voice and observes the skittish way you move about, your eyes not really reaching him as they dart around the room. He notes the uneasiness in your movements, the slightly wringing of your hands as your feet shuffle anxiously. Finally, it dawns on him exactly why you want him to come home and his face eases into a gentle expression.

“Alright, let’s go home” Yoongi says quietly, his voice laced with understanding and the slightest hint of anguish; and you nod, not meeting his eyes. You recognise the tone of his voice, it’s the tone he always uses when you get like this and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for using him like this, you hate that he knows you’re using him. Hate the way it makes him feel. Hate the way he’s so understanding about it. But you know it’s beyond your control. There’s nothing you can do when it gets like this.

“Thank you” You mutter and you can see him nod from the corner of your eyes, but the sympathy in them only serves to make you feel worse. You gather all your things as you wait for Yoongi to save his projects before shutting down his computer. Once he’s done, he grabs his jackets before ushering you out the door, one of his hands on the small of your back.

The two of you walk towards his car and you move over to the passenger side, getting in before buckling yourself up. The entire ride is silent and you don’t know whether it’s just your imagination, but the atmosphere is tense and sullen and it makes you feel all the worse for it. Before long, the two of you are back at your shared apartment. You quietly place your things where they’re supposed to go before getting ready for bed.

A short while later and after your extensive bed time routine, you find yourself nestled in Yoongi’s arms for the first time in almost a week. Your chest currently faces his t-shirt covered one. One of his arms is loosely wrapped around your waist, the other cradling your head; his fingers are loosely entwined in your hair, digits combing through the hair at the nape of your neck. You let out a little sigh and snuggle further into his shoulder, letting his clean cotton scent slowly lull you to sleep.

The soft amber light of dawn streams through the bedroom window you shared with your boyfriend. Scrunching your face, you let out a quiet moan of annoyance, not wanting to leave the comfort of your bed. As you begin shifting, you hear a deep groan next to you, the arm around your waist curling and pulling you tighter; flush into the broad and hard body of said boyfriend; namely one Kim Seokjin. You let out a whine of content, instinctively melting into his warm embrace. You slowly turned around so you could face him, a sleepy smile on your face as you took in the sight of your beautiful boyfriend.

His slightly tanned face was perfectly clear and you couldn’t help but pout at how effortlessly beautiful he truly was. You lift a hand and trace his features, brushing his contrastingly dark hair out of his eyes before trailing your finger down his adorable nose and over his plump, luscious lips. You continue tracing your fingers over his face, as soft as you could so you didn’t disturb him, stopping after your fingers traced the hardened defined length of his jaw.

These were your favourite moments.

The early, quiet mornings. When the sun kissed his face, making him glow as if he were an ethereal being. When he was something so otherworldly that you had to touch him, breathe him, feel him. Lest you believe this was all a dream and he wasn’t really in front of you. Lazy mornings like this filled you with peace; you loved being held in his strong, lean arms. But you loved it more when he was awake. When his hands softly trailed over your curves, his fingertips softly flitting across your skin as he peppered lazy, gentle kisses all over your shoulders and neck.

You looked at the clock behind him, a soft groan escaping you as you realised you had to be up. You’d been admiring your boyfriend for almost fifteen minutes. You lifted his strong arm off of you, fighting away from his grip. Eventually you won, Seokjin letting out a groan of protest at the loss of your warmth before flipping onto his stomach. You let out a quiet giggle at how adorable he was before dragging yourself into the bathroom. Another fifteen minutes later you found yourself in the kitchen, searching the cupboards for ingredients.

This would probably end badly.

You were an awful cook but Seokjin was still asleep and you were hungry. Besides, it wasn’t fair to continuously rely on your boyfriend for food, no matter how good he was at cooking and how much you loved his food. On the plus side, if it turned out good, it would be a wonderful surprise breakfast for your beloved other half. As you began prepping your ingredients, the first disaster struck in the form of you cutting your thumb while you were trying to slice the tofu. You let out a yelp, followed by a hiss at the pain, sticking the appendage into your mouth instinctively. Once the pain dulled to a numb throb, you wrapped it in a Band-Aid.

Your next disaster struck when you placed the rice in a pot. Sadly, you had forgotten to add the water to the vessel and a couple minutes later, the rice had caught on fire. You swore out loud as you began fanning the area, trying to get rid of the smoke. You quickly shoved the pot under the water, the pot sizzling and steaming in your attempts at putting out the fire before opening the window to air out the smoke.

“Jagiya? What’s happening?” You heard your boyfriend call from the doorway of your bedroom once the situation was under control. You turned around, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at your boyfriend watching you in amusement.

“Don’t laugh! I tried making breakfast and well… it didn’t end well” You replied sheepishly. Seokjin simply shook his head before walking up to you, wrapping his arms around you and placing a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“Aish Jagiya, sit down, I’ll make breakfast” Seokjin said fondly, slowly pushing you towards a seat.

“How could I refuse my perfect boyfriend’s delicious cooking?” You tease, taking a seat at the kitchen island, your elbow on the counter, face in hand as you watched him work, admiring the view.

He was always beautiful, but even more so when he was like this. Completely relaxed, a smile on his face as he expertly navigated through the kitchen, chopping vegetables masterfully as he shook the pan, flipping its contents. Half an hour later, Seokjin took a seat beside you, two bowls of hot steaming rice in front of you accompanied by soy sauce seasoned tofu, vegetable omelette, radish kimchi and Korean coleslaw.

“This looks wonderful Seokjinnie” You said sweetly, smiling brightly at him as you started eating, blowing on the rice before putting them into your mouth followed by some omelette and kimchi. You let out a soft moan, the flavours dancing along your tongue, making your taste buds water.

“Is it good Jagiya?” Seokjin asked, smiling fondly at you. You nodded enthusiastically as you continued eating, moaning at the taste.

“Jagiya stop that, only I should be making you make those noises” Seokjin said with a pout and you stuck your tongue out at him, both of you finished with your meals.

“Your cooking is the new love of my life” You teased and Seokjin let out a mock yell of anger, mockingly standing up in rage.

“I will teach you who’s the love of your life” Seokjin said, advancing on you. You choked slightly before immediately standing up and darting out of his grasp, running around the living room.

Seokjin chased after you, the two of you running in circles, around the coffee table and over the couch and into your bedroom, where he finally caught you. His arms circled around your waist, pushing you onto the bed as he fell on top of you. His hands quickly made their way to your sides, fingers wriggling as he tickled you until you were crying with tears.

“Jinnie! Seokjin! Please stop, I-I-I can’t” You stuttered, squealing with laughter until he finally gave up, his arms on either side of your head, holding his body up.

“Who’s the love of your life?” Seokjin asked and you let out a grin, arms wrapping around his shoulders, your head raising to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“You are. Of course, it’s you. Only ever you” You said in between kisses, Seokjin smiling into your lips. He placed another chaste kiss on your lips before trailing his lips down your jaw and to your collarbone, pressing a soft kiss against the tender flesh.

“I love you. But you’re not mine anymore” Seokjin says cryptically and then he disappears.

“Seokjin!” You whimper, jolting awake. The rapid thumping of your heart is loud in the quiet of the night and your pyjamas stick to your sweat-soaked skin. Your skin is flushed and throat dry as you gasp for air, breathing heavy. You blink blearily, mind racing until the fog of the dream clears and you recognise your dark bedroom. You run a hand through your slightly dampened locks, looking over to the alarm you read ‘3:14am’ through blurry, tear-filled eyes.

Scenes from your dream flash through your head and your shoulders begin shaking; a snivel slips past your lips and you quickly cover your mouth, trying to stifle the broken sobs. You briefly glance over at Yoongi. He’s on his back, mouth slightly open and soft snores escaping him. He’s completely at peace and absolutely beautiful but you find no comfort in him because your heart breaks even more, knowing that despite Yoongi being beside you, you still dreamt about your ex-boyfriend. You curl back into the sheets, body arranged in the foetal position, the sheets pulled up close to your face as you quietly cry to yourself.

The dream had felt real. All too real. It was as if you could still feel Seokjin’s touch lingering on your skin despite him being a figment of your imagination. You close your eyes, imagining his beautiful face, soft delicate features and luscious pink lips pulled into a bright smile and another low sob escapes your mouth. You silently cry into the still night, body wracking with sobs as you allow the memories to simply wash over you.

You don’t know how long you’re crying for but suddenly you feel the bed shift and Yoongi’s arms wrap around you, his body moving closer to yours until your chest is pressed against his back. Yoongi’s arm tightens around your waist; but he doesn’t say anything, instead simply allowing you to cry while he repeatedly presses light kisses against your shoulder blade. The two of you stay in that position for a long while in complete silence. He doesn’t speak the entire time. He doesn’t need to. The both of you know exactly why you’re crying and you’re ashamed to say this occurrence is more common than not.

The dreams usually stay at bay when Yoongi is sleeping beside you. But it had been so long since you’ve had him by your side that you’d been dreaming about Seokjin more and more often. You’d hoped Yoongi’s presence beside you once again would quell the heart-breaking dreams. Sadly, you were too hopeful. Dreams of your past love still plagued your sleep. But despite it all, you’re glad he’s here. Nights without Yoongi were the worst, his presence and embrace calmed you down more than you thought possible. It was a selfish need. Putting him through this and yet you couldn’t help it, no matter how much you know it’s hurting him.

Yoongi holds you until your cries settle, anguished sobs steadying into soft sniffles every now and then. Once you’ve finally managed to stifle your cries, the weight of your feelings overcomes you; your eyes heavy with fatigue as you drift off into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

The next day, you awake feeling both emotionally drained and physically exhausted. Your eyelids feel strained and your eyes prickly, as if you’d rubbed gravel in them. You let out a small groan and sit up in your bed, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. You still, muscles locking when you remember exactly why you were so tired. Your eyes blur with tears once again but you shake your head, blinking the tears out of eyes as you throw the duvet off of you. Your feet hit the cold wooden floors and while you normally curse the sudden coolness, today you welcome it. It feels good to have the distraction, even if it was miniscule.

You enter the adjourning bathroom, leaning over the sink and inspecting your puffy, red eyes and slightly swollen face. The dark bags under your eyes seem worse but nothing is as bad as the complete defeat and emptiness that lingers in your eyes. You swallow thickly before bending over and turning the faucet, allowing cool water to gush out. You quickly splash your face with the ice-cold water, letting it wake you up and hopefully erase some of the swelling around your face, before you begin brushing your teeth.

When you’re finally done with your morning routine, you drag yourself out of the bathroom only to find your bed empty. Your eyebrows furrow and you meander through your bedroom and into your open plan living room, where Yoongi is already at the coffee pot, brewing himself his morning coffee. You stare at his fully dressed back with guilt, last night’s memories once again flashing across the back of your mind.

“Morning” Yoongi greets gruffly, voice still heavy with sleep. Next to him, on the hob, is a frying pan full of scrambled eggs and just as you take a seat at the kitchen island, the toaster pops up with fresh toast. You inadvertently compare Yoongi’s breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast to Seokjin’s feast from your dreaming, feeling worse when you miss your ex-boyfriend even more. You watch Yoongi plate up your breakfast before placing it in front of you. He takes a seat opposite you, sipping his coffee as he scrolls through his phone, undoubtedly checking his schedule for the day.

“Morning” You mutter back quietly, picking at the eggs on your plate. If you were being honest, you weren’t exactly hungry at the moment. But you know you need the food and so you begin scooping small morsels into your mouth, swallowing it down as if it’s the hardest task in the world.

“I have to be back at the studio today. I’ll probably be gone until late,” Yoongi says, locking his phone and looking at you with soft eyes.

“Um… that’s okay. I’m probably gonna stay and work from home” You reply, trying to avoid his eyes. The guilt burns at the back of your head and you simply cannot bring yourself to look at his understanding, completely empathetic eyes. It’s more than you deserve right now.

“That’s alright. Do… do you need me to come home early tonight?” Yoongi plainly asks and you wince slightly at how brazen he’s being. You quickly shake your head. Honestly, you would rather have him home earlier. You’d rather him stay at home while you both curl around each other, letting his presence put any thoughts of your ex-boyfriend far in the back of your mind. But the remorse and shame from putting him through everything weighs too heavily on your shoulders and you know if he returns earlier, your own guiltiness will drive you insane.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks and you nod, more certainly this time, “alright, if you’re sure. I have to go in a few minutes” Yoongi says as he finished the last of his coffee. You watch him get up and wander around your apartment, grabbing his keys and shoes before pulling his jacket off of the hook.

“I think that’s everything. I’m going to head off” Yoongi says, walking up to you and pressing his lips against your temple in a soft kiss. A small part of you melts into the action but the bigger part of you reaches out to grab him just as he’s about to pull away.

“Yoongi… I’m sorry about last night” You whisper quietly, voice low as your fist tightens around his shirt. Yoongi sighs from beside you, his much larger palm untangling your hand from his shirt, only to entwine his fingers with yours. He pulls your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the tips of your fingers.

“Don’t be. I love you” Yoongi says and your eyes clench at the utterly sympathetic tone, his words simply fanning your guilt.

“I… same” You respond, voice just barely audible. He presses another kiss to the top of your head before exiting your apartment, leaving you completely alone.

Some days are better than others.

On these days, Seokjin barely enters your mind. In fact, he’s so far out that you don’t even remember your first love and consequently your first heartbreak. On the good days you barely remember what it was like to be with Seokjin or how much his absence in your life leaves you completely heartbroken and empty. These are the days when you’re consumed by Yoongi. When he is all that is on your mind. With his paler skin, small lean frame, small pretty features and gummy smile. These days are filled with his deep voice, sarcastic comments sprinkled with words of affection and his tell-tale clean cotton scent. These are some of your favourite days because these are the days when you live in the present, focused more on your future with your boyfriend rather than dwelling on your past memories of lost love.

Today is one of those good days. Yoongi had released his new album a month ago and had been met with nothing but positive reviews. He had topped the charts and beaten the record for most number 1s previously set by Namjoon with the latter’s latest album ‘mono’. Yoongi was slowly riding out the records, collecting award after award for the masterpiece that was ‘Agust D 2’. However, that also meant that Yoongi was now on a break before he undoubtedly went back to producing, and thus you were able to spend more time with your boyfriend.

Hence, you and Yoongi find yourselves sitting on the grass in a small park in Seoul, overlooking a group of kids, who looked no older than nine, playing baseball under the supervision of their parents and guardians. Granted, the two of you weren’t the only onlookers. Small groups of both adults and children, all of who had decided to take advantage of the good weather, were watching the children run around chasing the ball. You and Yoongi sat just slightly to the side, having an unobstructed, front row view of the game. You watched as a little girl ran in front of the pitcher, a helmet a little too big for her situated on her head.

“Gods, as much as I’m enjoying the show, this is giving me flashbacks to phys. ed. in high school” You groaned, shuddering slightly at the memory. Yoongi laughed from beside you as he snacked on some dried squid. You watched the girl swing her bat, the both of your joining the cheers of the onlookers when she hit the ball.

“It couldn’t have been that bad” Yoongi says and you turn to him, snorting in response. You grabbed the box of Pepero from his side before shoving a chocolate covered biscuit stick into your mouth.

“No, it wasn’t bad. It was god awful. They once tried to make me play basketball and you know what happened? Within two minutes I’d somehow managed to sprain my fingers and couldn’t write properly for the next week” You retort, Yoongi chuckling at you.

“I can imagine you doing that. I wasn’t all that into phys. ed. either but if there was one sport I loved playing it was basketball. In fact, I was on the team, I played shooting guard” Yoongi says proudly and you stare at him in mock surprise.

“Really? I had no idea. It’s not like your stage name Suga comes from that position or anything” You reply back sarcastically, Yoongi lets out a little pout before poking your side causing you to yelp in surprise.

“There’s no need for unnecessary sarcasm” Yoongi replies and you gape at him before letting out a bemused cackle.

“This coming from the king of sarcastic comments? Real rich babe” You snicker causing Yoongi to shrug, an easy smile on his face as he watched the children run around as they continued their baseball game.

“Why does it seem like you want to go join them?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, a small smile on your face at the easiness in your boyfriend’s posture.

“I don’t” Yoongi says suddenly, a small blush on his face as he ducks his head. Your eyes widen slightly in disbelief before you let out a little guffaw. He did want to join the children. You suddenly paused, an image of an older Yoongi popping in your head, surrounded by two children, who looked like a suspicious blend of the two of you, playing basketball. You quickly shook your head, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

“Oh, but you do! I can’t tell Yoongles. You wanna go play baseball with the little kids. That’s so cute” You gush and Yoongi very easily hears the slight teasing inclination to your voice. He lets out a little huff, cocking his head to the side, small lips pulling into a pout.

“Don’t call me Yoongles” Yoongi huffs making you giggle at his childlike actions. You shift closer towards him, until your sides are almost touching. Resting your head on his shoulder, you look up at him with a small smile before pressing a soft kiss to his lower jaw. Yoongi’s shoulders relax slightly, his hand automatically wrapping around your waist.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute” Yoongi mumbles before leaning over, taking your lips between his. You smile into his kiss, your lips moving slowly, softly over each other’s in a gentle kiss.

“Ew!” Comes a random high-pitched voice and you laugh into the kiss before pulling away.

“Stupid cockblocking kids” Yoongi grumbles under his breath with a small tut. You raise your eyebrow in amusement at your boyfriend, wondering how he shifts from pouty child to ornery old man in the space of two seconds.

“We are in public and there are kids are around us babe” You reply, Yoongi tutting once again.

Suddenly, Yoongi rocks back until he’s completely laying on the picnic blanket. He pulls you down with him, a startled yelp escaping you. You look up at him from your position, your head is laying in the crook between his shoulder and arm, Yoongi’s chest directly in your line of sight. He’s got one arm wrapped around your shoulder loosely, the other cushioning his head. You bite your lip as Yoongi closes his eyes, drawing your body closer to him.

“Well if we can’t kiss, then we may as well take a nap yes?” Yoongi suggests and you glance around nervously.

“Yoongi, what if someone tries to rob us?” You ask and Yoongi sighs.

“We only have our phones, unless they want to steal snacks. In which case they can go for it. But we can put our phones between our bodies,” Yoongi says, slipping both his and your phones between the two of you, “happy?” Yoongi asks and you nod with a sigh.

“I can’t believe you want to take a nap, it’s like 4pm” You tut making Yoongi scoff.

“There is no specific time to nap you know. You can take a nap whenever you want. There’s no law to stop you” Yoongi replies smartly, causing you to huff.

“I don’t know why I even bother. Alright old man, let’s nap” You tease, snuggling in closer to him. Yoongi’s hand moves towards your lower back and all of a sudden, he pinches, causing you to jerk away.

“Ow! What was that for?” You hiss in indignation. Yoongi cracks one eye open, eyebrow raising in a fashion that denotes ‘are you really asking that?’.

“If I wasn’t so sleepy, I’d take us both home and show you exactly who you’re calling old. But, I’ll settle for showing you later tonight” Yoongi says, voice gruff. Your face heats up immediately, your face burying into his chest to hide your embarrassment.

“God, I hate you sometimes” You reply, voice muffled by his chest, but there’s no real venom in your tone, only fond exasperation, causing Yoongi to reply with a noncommittal hum.

You realise that’s the last response you’re going to get from your boyfriend. You move your head slightly, allowing yourself to look up at his face from your position on his shoulder. His eyes are closed, small eyelashes resting on his cheeks. His lips are slightly pouty and while small, look incredibly delicate and soft; you have the sudden urge to lean over and kiss him. Instead, you shift again, laying your head more onto his chest as you try to get comfortable, moulding yourself into his side.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly doodle on his chest, the light breeze wafting against you every now and then as his calming scent of clean cotton fills your sense. You close your eyes with a smile, relishing in the calmness of the atmosphere, even with the sounds of children playing, people wandering about and dogs barking.

Everything is good.

These are the days you love the most. The good days. The better days. When you are at peace, with the boyfriend you love so much napping by your side. With the stillness of the breeze and the feel of the warm sunshine on your skin. When thoughts of your ex-boyfriend are so far out of your mind, you don’t even remember that he had broken your heart or that you were scarred very deeply by the loss of your first love.

“Yoongi, oh my gosh, how much further?” You whine childishly, a small pout on your face as you stare at the back of your boyfriend’s figure.

“It’s just a little further” Yoongi huffs, more than likely getting tired of your whining. You scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out to the back of his head. Another few minutes later, you and Yoongi arrive at an almost secluded pier.

The sun is low in the day but still bright enough, highlighting the beautiful blue hues of the ocean, the sun rays causing the water to sparkle with every small wave. You look around, spotting people looking almost as small as ants further down the beach. There’re only a few people around the pier, most sitting in solitude either looking out at the sea or with fishing rods. Your eyes narrow slightly, the place looks somewhat familiar to you, but you aren’t entirely sure why. You shrug it off, most beaches look the same and that was probably where you were getting your déjà vu from.

“I like to come fishing here. It’s more secluded, people leave you alone and I don’t need to worry about fans coming up to me because the only people who come here are older men that want to fish in peace” Yoongi explains and you nod, placing your stuff down at one end of the large pier. Yoongi begins pulling out his fishing rod and starts setting up as you help him.

You breathe in deeply, smiling softly at the sea salted breeze. It’s a refreshing get away and as the sun warms your skin, you let out a wide smile. It’s been so long since you’ve been to the beach that you’d forgotten just how much you’d loved it. You watch Yoongi set himself up before sitting down at the pier. You look over the wooden boards, eyes lighting up with excitement as you spot small movements under the clear water. You turn back to your boyfriend who looks more than ready to fish. He’s dressed in a long sleeve black t-shirt with matching black jeans and a cute beige woven sun hat resting upon his head. He’s wearing nothing that looks like beach wear and a small part of you wonders how he’s not overheating.

“Gods you’re such an old man” You jeer taking in the adorable, excited look on his face as he throws his line into the water. Yoongi’s head snaps towards you, slightly tilted up so he can see you tower above him. His eyes are slightly scrunched, avoiding the bright sunlight and you have to fight the urge to gush over how adorably cute he looks.

“Stop calling me old! You’re like two years younger than me” Yoongi grunts out before returning to fishing. You let out a tinkling laugh, before shrugging and taking a seat beside him, legs dangling over the edge.

“Maybe, but I’m not the one who acts like a grumpy old grandpa” You tease, Yoongi nudging you slightly with your shoulder in response, causing you to let out another giggle.

You playfully dangle your legs over the side, more than happy to simply take in the sights while Yoongi fishes, the two of you sitting in easy silence, speaking every now and then. That was the beauty of Yoongi. You didn’t have to always speak when on dates; the both of you were more than happy to just sit in silence and enjoy each other’s presence. There was no awkward small talk or forced conversations. You more than enjoyed days like this, just sitting under the sun and basking in each other’s presence.

You spot a seagull flying overhead and tilt your head, following the bird with an easy smile. You watch as it flies off, disappearing somewhere behind you. Just as you’re about to turn back to Yoongi however, you spot a flash of a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. Your blood freezes, eyes wide and heart thumping. You quickly turn around, and catch the back of his wide shoulders and narrow back before he vanishes into thin air. You take in a shaky breath of air, eyes drooping slightly. Your heart quickens and your palms become sweaty and all of a sudden you can remember exactly why this place feels familiar.

You’ve been here.

More specifically, you used to come here with Seokjin. You’re at the secluded pier in Daecheon Beach, which consequently was also Seokjin’s favourite fishing spot. Suddenly, he’s all you can think about. You turn back, facing the water once again as you try to shake the thought of him out of your mind. You shuffle slightly away from Yoongi, your body trembling as the force of your feelings return. Your fists clench, nails pressing into your palms as you try and bring yourself back under control. You cannot do this. Not now, not when you and Yoongi were enjoying yourselves.

Yoongi.

You turn to him, watching the way he sits relaxed as he continues to fish. The silence between the two of you that had once been calming and even appreciated was now tainted. Because now, without Yoongi’s voice to distract you, you can feel yourself slowly receding into your memory. Now everything feels different. And you hate yourself for it, but you can’t help but compare Yoongi to Seokjin. It’s not fair. You know it’s not.

But now all you can think about is how Seokjin used to bring you here, and how you’d sit side by side as he’d crack jokes or make awful puns that resulted in his squeaky windshield wiper laugh and consequently your own laugh from how happy and infectious his laugh was. Suddenly, all you can think about is how different Yoongi and Seokjin are. Yoongi, with his small build and pretty gummy smile compared to Seokjin’s tall, wide shouldered build and toothy smile. Yoongi, who likes to sit in silence and fish, enjoying each other’s presence compared to Seokjin who hated the silence and preferred filling it up with his trademark dad jokes. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have an amazing, next to perfect boyfriend and yet all you can do is think about the boyfriend who is no longer yours. Who could never be yours again.

“____? You okay?” Yoongi asks and you snap your head towards him. Yoongi frowns at you, taking in your quivering lip and glazed over eyes.

“I’m fine” You reply, but your voice is quiet and croaky. Yoongi’s eyes narrow, wondering just what could have happened in the space of a few minutes while he was more focused on fishing. He can’t think of a single reason for you to have been set off. Well, he can. But as far as he’s aware, there’s no reason for you to have been set off. Nothing here could possibly have reminded you of him.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks wearily and you nod quickly, once again trying to shake thoughts of Seokjin out of your mind.

“Alright- oh! Oh, I caught something. Do you want to help reel it in?” Yoongi asks and you nod once again, hoping it will take your mind off of things. But as he moves to let you grab the rod, you hesitate.

Suddenly, you remember the way you and Seokjin would reel in any fish caught together. You remember the way he’d call you ‘Jagi’ and whine if you lost the fish or the way he’d get excited and kiss you every time you successfully caught something. You don’t mean to compare them, but you simply can’t help it because the situation is all too familiar to you. You don’t say anything, you don’t even bring up Seokjin’s name. But Yoongi senses the shift in your mood; he can feel it in the way you hesitate. He knows.

You can see it in the way his eyes drop and his gaze shifts, the blank expression of stoicism once again on his face. But his eyes. His eyes betray him and once again you can see the inkling of torment in his eyes, masked by the look of recognition and sympathy. Once again, the guilt washes over you and you hate yourself. Hate yourself for being unable to move on, hate yourself for putting Yoongi through this, hate yourself for needing him and loving him despite your heart and mind aching for someone else.

“Something’s wrong. Tell me” Yoongi says, voice plain and nonchalant but his eyes continue to betray him. Your throat feels dry, almost as if you’d stood in the Sahara desert with your mouth wide open, allowing the hot sun rays to completely dry out your throat. You swallow thickly and look away. Yoongi waits for you to answer, and a part of you wants to sit in silence and refuse to answer him. Because admitting it out loud means that he knows, knows without any shadow of a doubt, that while you were beside him, you were thinking of someone else. That you were emotionally betraying him. But Yoongi waits, he sits in stoic silence and simply waits for you to say something and you know you have no choice but to say the words out loud.

“I- We used to come here together. Me and him. This was his favourite fishing spot” You finally say, voice quiet and full of anguish because you know that your words are going to hurt him and you can’t bear the thought of hurting Yoongi; sweet innocent Yoongi who never asked for this. Who knows that despite how much you love him, you yearn for someone else, someone you can’t have. The same Yoongi who has shown you nothing but love and understand. And you hate yourself even more. Hate how you hurt him, break his heart over and over again and yet need him, for he’s the last bit of solace you have in this world.

You watch Yoongi grit his teeth, his jaw clenching as he stares off into the distant ocean. His rod is placed beside him, the fish he had caught long since gone. You bite your lip, willing him to say something, anything. But he simply sits there, fist clenched with grit teeth, jaw twitching every now and then and you can’t help but want to reach out and hold him, try and placate him somehow. But you don’t have the right. You know you don’t. Any other time, yes. But not right now, not when you’re hurting him like this. A couple moments pass and then he relaxes, breathing out heavily.

“Do you want to leave?” Yoongi asks and once again you hesitate. Yes. Of course, you want to leave. This place, when you had first entered, had been fun and light and you’d enjoyed every single moment with Yoongi. But now, now it was tainted and you hated yourself and your brain for ruining this day. Today was supposed to be fun. You and Yoongi were supposed to sit and enjoy a few hours of fishing before eating the picnic the two of you had packed. But now everything is tainted, painted red with your memories of Seokjin and you want to leave.

But that’s exactly why you hesitate. You can see how hurt Yoongi is. You can see the slight defeat in his body language. See the slight slump of his shoulder. You wonder what’s going through that enigmatic mind of his. Whether he’s wondering if you’ll ever be rid of the ghost of your ex-boyfriend, wondering if you’ll ever be able to simply just be with him. These are the reasons you hesitate because you know you can’t keep doing this. You know you can’t keep betraying him like this. You can’t keep the past from haunting your future.

“Uh- no. No. let’s stay. I want to stay. That was all in the past. You’re the one I’m with now. You’re the one I want to be here with” You reply, swallowing thickly. Yoongi’s face lightens up slightly, his body perking up as he looks at you in perplexity. You hate that. Hate his sudden disbelief and surprise. As if choosing him over Seokjin was completely new to him, completely surprising and unthinkable. You hate that you did that to him.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks, voice quiet, as if expecting you to change your mind.

“I’m sure. I want to be here. With you. Just you” You reply and Yoongi nods, a small smile on his face. You scooch closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he continues to fish.

The two of you sit like that for what feels like hours. Realistically it’s only been an hour, maybe less. But the tension is thick and it only aides in making the time pass by slowly. The two of you sit in silence once again. Every now and then you open your mouth to say something, but you don’t know what to say. There’s nothing really you can say. You want to apologise but really, what do the words means when your actions speak much louder. There’s so much at the tip of your tongue but it’s all meaningless because you know what you’ve done, you know how you’ve made him feel. And suddenly, nothing is enough. There aren’t enough words in any language to make things better. It’s getting later in the day, the time passing slowly as the silence mocks the two of you and soon the sun will begin setting. You finally bring up the courage to touch Yoongi on the shoulder, pushing his rod to the side.

“The sun’s going to set soon, do you wanna watch it with me?” You ask nervously. Your eyes are slightly downcast and you pull your lip between your teeth, worrying it. You can feel Yoongi’s calculating gaze on you and briefly wonder whether he’s going to reject it. Reject you. You wouldn’t fault him if he does.

He doesn’t.

Yoongi puts down his rod, placing it beside him before nodding. You scooch closer towards him, practically pressing your side against him as you once again rest your head on his shoulder. Yoongi turns his head and kisses your temple before pulling your hand into his, entwining your finger’s together. He places your hand in his lap before leaning his head on top of yours. The two of you sit in silence once again, Yoongi absentmindedly playing with your fingers. This time, the silence isn’t as tense, but back to being easy and companionable.

Briefly, you think you see the same figure walk past again but this time, you ignore it. This time, you curl further into Yoongi’s embrace, turning your head and placing a light kiss on his neck. The time, you choose to enjoy the sunset with Yoongi. Choose to enjoy the way he feels against your body, the way he smells, the way he plays with your small fingers with his larger, slender ones. This time, you choose Yoongi.

Today, you think, is a wonderful day. Lately, Yoongi has been busy, he’s an award-winning solo rapper and music producer after all. One of the best producers in his company. Hence despite his latest album just being released two months ago, he’s already busy helping other artists in the company produce their albums. As a result, his work load has almost tripled and it means you haven’t been able to spend as much time with your boyfriend. But today, is one of his very few day offs. Consequently, today is also a day you both go out on a date.

Yoongi has managed to rent out a small music shop in an even smaller street just on the outskirts of Seoul. He’s currently sat beside you, expert fingers dancing across the keys of the piano. You’re leaning against the polished wood of the instrument, watching the way he loses himself in the sound and rhythm of the song. It’s a song you know well, one full of emotion. He doesn’t need to rap the lyrics, you know the song, ‘First Love’, like the back of your hand. But the way he plays, the deep sounds of the piano and hauntingly chilling and less upbeat without the extra background instruments and music.

Somehow, you fall in love with him all over again. The way he closes his eyes and plays, the way his body is relaxed, the way he loves music. It all resonates deep within your heart and just as Yoongi loses himself in his music, you lose yourself in Yoongi. You love him. You more in love with him than you’ve ever been before. You know this, know it as well as you know the back of your hand.

You continue staring at him, just watching the way he plays. For the briefest moment, you remember a similar memory, locked far away in your head. A memory of Seokjin playing the guitar for you, the way he’d strum the strings and sing in that beautiful voice of his. But just as quickly as the memory enters your mind, it fades away. You’re too lost in Yoongi, too fixated on the man you’re currently in love with. In fact, you barely even register the memory as painful, instead remembering it with fondness before once again focusing on the piano player in front of you.

The two of you spend another hour or so in the record shop, letting Yoongi attempt to teach you how to play. It doesn’t work very well, you’ve never been good with instruments and that wouldn’t change in one single day. You do applaud Yoongi’s patience with you throughout the entire day however. Sadly, Yoongi has to go back to the studio and with a long kiss, the two of you part.

You practically skip the entire way home; your smile so wide people probably assume you’re a bit crazy. But you don’t care. You love Yoongi. You’re in love with Min Yoongi and you’d willingly shout it to the world at this point. A small, very minuscule part of you feels guilty. Guilty that you’re forgetting Seokjin and moving on. But the larger part of you doesn’t care. The larger part of you is ready to move on because that very same part is madly, head over heels in love with Yoongi.

However, it all comes crashing down the minute you enter your apartment.

Some days are good.

Some days are worse.

Today simply happens to be the worst of the worst.

Because for some reason Seokjin is standing in front of you. It’s impossible, you know it is. But there he is, looking as handsome as he did the day he disappeared from your life once and for all. Your eyes are impossibly wide, gaze trailing over him with disbelief. It’s impossible. You’re going crazy. Perhaps this is all because you feel guilty, but there he is. Your keys drop to the floor and your body quivers; you can feel yourself on the cusp of breaking down, large tears threatening to spill.

“H-how? What are you doing here? How, how are you here? You can’t be here” You stammer out, but he just looks at you from his position by the living room window, sending you a furtive glance.

“You know exactly how I’m here” Seokjin says cryptically and his voice sounds foreign to you, it’s his but it’s not. It’s been so long since you’ve heard it.

“I don’t… I don’t understand” You reply and Seokjin shrugs, a small secretive smile on his face. He glances at the keys on the floor and you quickly bend over, picking them up.

“You never changed the locks, did you? Not that you really needed to. I’m the one that left after all. Disappeared from your life in a flash” Seokjin chuckles, his tone is completely brazen and it’s like you’re reliving it all over again. The way he was in your life one minute and then gone the next.

“I thought you’d have moved out. The place looks nice, different but nice I guess” He comments as he looks around and you want to go up to him, touch him. But you can’t, and you know exactly why you can’t. So instead, you stand frozen in the entry of your doorway, gaping at him with tear filled eyes.

“I almost did” you confess, “move out that is. But there are too many memories here, both good and bad” You breathe out. This was the same apartment you and Seokjin had moved into back when the two of you had started university. The two of you had always talked about moving out once you graduated. Alas, that had never happened. You were still here. In the same small apartment from when you and Seokjin were still together. It was almost like a symbol, just how you were stuck in this apartment, your heart and mind were stuck in the past, lost between Seokjin and Yoongi.

“Yeah. I know. Do you love him? You know, the new guy” Seokjin asks, his head cocking to the side slightly.

“I do. A lot” You reply tersely and Seokjin laughs, you heart griping at the familiar squeaky laugh. But it’s not the same. It’s somewhat distorted. You remember it. But not very well. It’s been so long.

“More than you loved me?” Seokjin asks, eyes sparkling with mirth, a small smirk on his face. You hate him. Hate him for driving you this crazy.

“No” it’s a simple answer, you don’t even need to hesitate or think it through, “I could never love someone the way I loved you. But I do love him. Different to the way I loved you, but just as much” You follow up, voice shaky. Seokjin laughs once again and before he levels his gaze at you, a dark smirk on his face.

“Do you fuck him in our bed?” He asks and a shiver runs up your spine. You close your eyes and shake your head.

“I got rid of the bed. I… I couldn’t keep it any longer” You reply, unsure why you did. This is just your mind taunting you. Your guilt manifesting as your deepest, darkest fears. You feel like you’re forgetting him. You don’t want to.

“Hmm. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. You moved on, what? A year and a half after I left? And now you’re slowly forgetting me” Seokjin says simply, his tone slightly accusatory.

“No! No. I could never forget you” You reply earnestly, arguing more with yourself than anything but Seokjin shakes his head.

“You forgot me today. And that day when you went fishing. You’re slowly getting over me. Slowly forgetting me. What happens then? Will I cease to exist in your memory? Will you ever remember me? Or will I become a faceless person in your past?” Seokjin asks, head cocked to the side and his words cause your heart to ache, your bones to tremor and the tears to finally spill.

“I’ll remember. I’ll always remember. I could never forget. I remember the smell of your cologne. I remember the way you used to sing in the shower and the way you’d bring me breakfast in the morning. I remember your birthday and your brother’s favourite song. I remember the way you’d hold me at night and the sound of your breathing the nights I’d lay awake next to you, watching you sleep. I remember. I remember everything. I remember you. More than I want to. I could never forget you but I can’t keep loving you. I can’t keep living in the past. So please… just let me move on” You cry, voice trembling. Seokjin approaches you slowly and you shake your head, letting the tears roll down your cheeks.

“I need you to leave. Please just leave. I can’t do this anymore. You can’t be here” You gasp out, breath in staggered shudders as you slowly find it harder and harder to breathe. He’s so close now. Close enough to touch. Close enough to reach out to. But you don’t. Instead, he just walks past you before disappearing. As soon as he vanishes you let out a small wail, dropping to your knees before sobbing, crying out for everything you loved and lost. You cry for the unfairness of it all. You cry for Yoongi, who doesn’t deserve any of this. You cry for Seokjin because you miss him, more and more each day. But most importantly, you cry for yourself; because no matter what you know his memory will always haunt you. You cry because you know no matter what, you’ll always love him.

It’s been almost two weeks since the debacle that you were now calling The Incident™. You haven’t told Yoongi anything, you absolutely refuse to. Things were slowly getting better and you didn’t want the slight setback to ruin anything. You and Yoongi were doing good and he was much happier now. He no longer looked at you sadly every now and then, he no longer gave you the knowing look. Which was exactly why instead of speaking to him about The Incident™ you hide it for him, instead bottling up all your emotions.

So, you pretend everything is fine. Pretend that everything is good and that you’ve been coping better. You pretend that your emotions aren’t eating you alive inside. You pretend that you don’t miss Seokjin and pretend that there aren’t times when you wish Yoongi was Seokjin. You pretend that you don’t sometimes imagine Seokjin holding you at night instead of Yoongi or that it isn’t Yoongi you’re sleeping next to but Seokjin. You pretend and pretend and pretend. It’s awful and you know it is. Which is why you pretend that your guilt isn’t slowly consuming you from the inside out. It’s a vicious cycle.

Of course, there are good days and bad days. But lately, it seems like it’s all bad. There are brief moments you forget about Seokjin and don’t have to pretend. But those moments are few and far between. Lately all you can think about is Seokjin and your emotions are slowly killing you, breaking you apart. Some days it’s easier because Yoongi is working and you can go days without seeing him and you can live in your memories of Seokjin. Others, Yoongi is beside you and you have to pretend.

Today is another day you’re pretending.

Today is one of the few days Yoongi has off and as a result, the two of you find yourself nestled in bed, your laptop between the two of you as you sit and watch films on Netflix. Your head is currently laying on Yoongi’s chest, his hand rested on your back as it slowly traces up and down your body. You squirm against him, the movement of his fingers only serving to turn you on.

It’s been just over a good two weeks since you slept with Yoongi. Your body was craving sex at this point, but with how much you’d been pretending lately, you didn’t want to take any chances and so you’d shied away from Yoongi’s advances. Thankfully, for one week, you had been on your period. But now you had no excuses other than not wanting to. Which was a lie. You wanted sex. Your body craved it. But again, you didn’t want to take any chances.

But as Yoongi’s hand move up and down your back, your eyes flutter shut and you breathe in deeply, heat pooling in your belly. Your resolve is slowly vanishing with each passing second. Yoongi’s hand dips into the waistband of your panties, large palm resting on your ass. The cold of his hand against the heat of your ass has you throwing all caution to the wind. You shift from your position on his chest, stretching over and drawing his lips in for a kiss.

Yoongi quickly sits up, pulling you closer to him by your neck as he licks your lips, deepening the kiss. You moan into his mouth, your tongues lashing against each other. Yoongi’s hands slip into your hair from the nape of your neck, fingers clutching your locks and tugging you deeper into the kiss. You gasp slightly at the pain before Yoongi breaks the kiss. He tugs at your hair once again, this time pulling your head back and exposing your neck. He runs his nose along the flesh, pressing bruising kisses along the column of your throat.

Yoongi pulls away from his mission to litter the supple skin of your neck with hickeys, his hands moving to the hem of your t-shirt before pulling it off and leaving you in nothing but your panties. Similarly, you reach over and pull his t-shirt off of him, revealing pale smooth skin. You push Yoongi over, crawling on top of him so that you’re straddling his body. His hands move to your hips, fingers digging into the skin as you trail your lips down his neck and to his nipples. Your tongue slides out to swirl around his dark hardened bud, drawing out a small whine from your boyfriend.

Soon you reach the waistband of his boxers, kissing the band before slowly peeling them off of his skin, leaving him completely naked. You lick your lips at the sight, his cock standing completely erect, twitching every now and then. Small black hairs are neatly trimmed and his balls are round and so full. You reach over, a small hand wrapping around the slight curve of his shaft. You’d forgotten how long and veiny he was, with a pretty mushroom cockhead. You slowly pump him up and down, in slight awe of how hard he is.

Yoongi moves so that he’s kneeling, hands tangling into your hair as you stay bent over on all fours. You kiss the tip of his erect cock, slowly opening your mouth to suck at the tip of his dick. Your lips wrap around his head, slowly suckling the tip into your mouth as precum drips out and coats your tongue in the slightly salty substance. Yoongi lets out a little moan, thrusting into your mouth slightly as he urges you to take him deeper into your mouth. You willingly swallow more of him, tongue swirling around the engorged head, groaning at the taste of his precum.

You began bobbing your head, taking more and more of his hard length into your mouth. Yoongi began thrusting his hips gradually, forcing more and more of his cock into your mouth until you took in his whole shaft, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone. He watched with rapt fascination as you stared at him through half lidded eyes, his fists tightening around your head and pulling your head down harder, your tongue circling around the bell of his penis before licking the underside. Yoongi let out a small whine at the action and you smile from under him, enjoying the pleasure you wrought on his body. Yoongi thrusts harder into your mouth, losing himself in the feel of your lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, letting out a small groan whenever you flick your tongue against his slit, licking the precum.

“Fuck it’s been so long since I’ve had your mouth on me sweetheart. Do you like this? Do you like the way I taste?” Yoongi asks and you nod from under him. Yoongi was salty, slightly bitter and deliciously thick. A combination that drove you wild. You loved to taste him, loved when he came in your mouth so you could swallow him down. He tastes different to Seokjin, who was sharper and sweeter. You metaphorically bite your tongue, hating that even now you were still thinking about Seokjin.

You try to focus more on sucking Yoongi’s cock, licking at the underside before swirling around his cock as you bob up and down. You’re slowly coating his cock in your saliva, the mixture of your spit and his precum turning him into a sticky mess. While you continue sucking Yoongi off, his hand moves down your back to the flesh globes of your ass, hands brushing against your soft skin before trailing to your dripping panty covered slit. He pushes your underwear to the side before tracing a finger up and down your wet folds, making your eyes roll back into your skull at the sudden simulation.

Yoongi smirks from above you, slowly sliding a digit into your wet, slick heat until it is knuckle deep. You mewl around his dick, shaking your ass slightly as you silently beg for more, the vibrations around his cock driving him wilder and causing him to increase the speed of his thrusting hips as he begins fucking your mouth. Yoongi slips another finger into your honeyed hole, pumping both his digits in and out, twisting and curling them. You let out a chorus of mewls as he brushes against that soft spot inside your pussy, cunt pulsing around his fingers as you continue gushing your arousal around his hand.

Your teeth graze against the base of his shaft, his cockhead nestled down your throat as you try not to gag and choke. Tingles of pleasure run along your spine and down to your toes as Yoongi continues his ministrations. You move one of your hands to his balls, palming and squeezing the sensitive organs. Yoongi snarls at the action, snapping his hip and forcing himself further down your throat. You struggle to swallow around him, instead gagging and coating his dick in another layer of spit. Yoongi pulls out one of his fingers from your cunt, moving it up to your asshole before tracing the puckered rim. You gasp against his dick as he slowly pushes the slick covered digit into your ass, hips squirming at the somewhat foreign feeling.

You stiffen as he slowly thrusts one finger into your ass, the other buried deep into your pussy, wiggling slowly against your sweet spot. You slump slightly against Yoongi, making him increase the pace of his fingers and the speed of his thrusts. You suck at him harder, bucking and trashing your hips against his fingers as you feel the coil in your abdomen heat up and clench. You’re almost at the cusp of your orgasm, dangling just of the edge. You feel Yoongi’s balls tighten in the palm of your hand, rolling and massaging them in your hands as you try to make him cum quicker, your own end nearing.

"Oh, oh fuck, I'm cumming" Yoongi groans, gritting his teeth as he continued pumping his fingers into you. Suddenly, he removes his finger from your pussy, instead pushing it into your ass, stretching out the tight passage. You whimper at the slight stinging of the stretch, arching your back as you’re suddenly pushed over the edge. Your pussy clamps almost painfully around nothing, clenching and unclenching as you gush, moaning and mewling against his throbbing cock while you cum. The feeling of your wet mouth and vibration of your groans pushes Yoongi off of the edge; he thrusts his hip as hard as he can, forcing himself down your thrust before cumming. You feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat, swallowing the warm liquid eagerly and making sure you don’t waste a single drop.

“Fuck. I love you” Yoongi muttered, pulling you off of his dick before kissing you, tasting himself.

You kiss him back fervently, your fingers burying into his thick locks as you tug him closer. Yoongi flips the two of you over before pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls your underwear down your hips and off of your legs before brushing his hands up your long limbs, until they were resting on your thighs. He slowly moves his palms until his fingers are spread over the soft inner flesh of your thighs before slowly spreading you open. He watches the way your dripping petals slowly open up for him, moaning as he stares at your soaked cunt. Yoongi slowly leans over, pressing a kiss against your clit. You whine, shaking your head before pulling him up until he’s hovering over you.

“I need you in me” You breathe out. One of Yoongi’s hands moves to cup your pussy, thumb brushing against your clit. You shudder under him, throwing your head to the side as he bends over, kissing your neck.

“I want to eat you out” Yoongi whines and you shake your head, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“I need you in me. Please” You practically beg. Yoongi groans at the neediness in your voice before nodding. He shifts above you, moving so his hands cage you between both his arms. His hips move slightly and you buck when the tip of his cock brushes against your pulsing cunt. You lean up, drawing him in for a kiss as he slowly slides his cock into your waiting pussy. You moan as he slowly enters you, his girth stretching your pussy out. Yoongi breaks off your kiss with a hiss, burying his face into the crook of your neck at the feel of your cunt walls clamping around his cockhead. He continues pushing more and more into you, your thighs spreading, knees bending as you accept more and more of him into you.

Finally, when he’s completely embedded deep into your pussy, his cockhead kissing your cervix, he stills. You look up at him through hazy, half lidded eyes, completely lost in the way he opens you up. Yoongi stills for a couple moments, allowing you to get used to his size before pulling out and thrusting in once again, this time in one smooth glide. You let out a choked-out moan, your legs kicking until they were wrapped around his waist, using his hips as leverage to push into his slow but hard thrusts.

Yoongi moved his head from your neck, trailing his lips across your collarbone as he pressed soft kisses against your delicate skin. He adjusted his angle, thrusting in once again, head brushing against your g-spot. You stilled, your body heating up as you felt inexplicable pleasure. Your nerve endings caught on fire, as if being constantly shocked every time Yoongi thrust into you. Yoongi moaned from above you when he felt your pussy gush around him, your cunt spasming against his cock. You let out a small whine when Yoongi thrusts harder into you, impaling you over and over again with harsh thrusts. The intensity of his cock plunging into you has your body shuddering and quivering. You feel every vein and ridge of his dick dragging against your pussy walls as he penetrates you, your velvety cunt gripping him tightly.

“Fuck… I’m cumming” You mewl, slowly losing yourself in all the pleasure. Yoongi grins against your skin, biting your collarbone before lapping at the skin. He trails kisses down to the valley of your breasts, pressing a kiss against your sternum before taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling harshly. Suddenly, Yoongi bites your nipple and your back arches in pleasure, your hips and body writhing on his dick with reckless abandon as your nerves prickle with hot waves of euphoria. One of Yoongi’s hands moves to play with your clit, thumb rolling against the hardened bundle of nerves. Your feel your womb tighten as your orgasm nears, the intensity of his ministrations searing along every fibre of your being as you’re set afire with pleasure.

“Fuck, please. Can’t, please” You babble, unable to form coherent thoughts as you’re drowned in the pleasure wrought on your body. You faintly acknowledge Yoongi grinning against your breast, the hand that’s not preoccupied with playing with your clit entwining with yours as you hold hands. You can feel him pour out all his love into each and every action as he drives into you over and over again, impaling you roughly on his cock.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you” Yoongi whispers, but you don’t hear it. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure, pussy rippling. All of a sudden you cum, the slowly building coil unravelling all at once into fiery white-hot pleasure. Yoongi grunts at the feel of your cunt clamping down tightly; he pushes your hips down into the bed, pounding violently into you, fucking you into the bed. He hammers into your cunt one final time, burrowing as deep into your core as he could get before letting out a piercing groan, his body shaking in overwhelming lust and euphoria as he emptied himself into your pussy, spurt after spurt of his cum pouring into your wet heat as he came.

“Seokjin!” You scream, your pussy gushing against Yoongi’s cock. All of a sudden Yoongi freezes above you. But you don’t care, you’re still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, too consumed by rapture to notice Yoongi’s sudden stillness. You slowly come down from your high, body shuddering and gasping for air. You slowly come to, registering Yoongi’s frozen form but still hard dick inside you. You whine slightly, bucking as you try to remove him from your sensitised pussy, but Yoongi is unresponsive.

“Yoongi?” You ask, looking at him in perplexity. He’s staring down at you, a mixture of shock, anger but most importantly distress.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong?”You repeat, but suddenly he’s getting off of you, staring at you in both betrayal and repulsion.

“It’s Yoongi” He says, voice quiet.

“I know it’s you, why are you suddenly bringing this up?” You question, but with the way he’s currently standing, completely naked and fists clenched, a small inkling of doubt and worry crawls under your skin. What did you do? Suddenly, Yoongi starts chuckling, shaking his head as he laughs in incredulity.

“You don’t even know. You don’t even realise. You said his name. You screamed Seokjin’s name instead of mine” Yoongi says, face immediately turning stony as he levels his gaze at you. You stare at him, blood running cold. No. There’s no way. You wouldn’t. Because if you had, that would make you the biggest dick on this planet.

“I- I no. No, I didn’t. I couldn’t have” You try stuttering out but Yoongi simply shakes his head, turning away.

“But you did. I heard it. Is this what it’s come to? You’re thinking of him now?” Yoongi suddenly bursts out.

“No! Yoongi, no I wasn’t! I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t hurt you like that” You say desperately, trying to crawl over and reach out to him. Yoongi scoffs and pulls away and your heart breaks just a little more at his obvious rejection.

Yoongi wouldn’t make this up. And there was a very, very small chance that you could have said Seokjin’s name. Especially with how much you’ve been pretending lately. You don’t want to admit that out loud. You can already see how heartbroken and anguished Yoongi is. You’d could never admit that yes, sometimes you wished he was Seokjin. That sometimes you’d pretend it was Seokjin beside you and not him. You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t break Yoongi’s heart like that. Not anymore than you clearly already have.

“But you have. You didn’t want to hurt me and yet you already have. Is this how it’s always going to be? It’s been two and a half years since Seokjin. We met a year after him. Started dating a year and a half after him We’ve been together almost a year. So why are we still on this? Why do we always come back here? Is this how it’s always going to be? Am I always going to be your second choice? Because I can’t do it. I won’t do it,” Yoongi finally says, defeat lacing his voice.

“No! Yoongi I’m sorry! Please I’m sorry” You desperately call out to him but Yoongi simply scoffs.

“That’s all I get! Apologies. You keep saying sorry and things are okay for a little while but then we come back here. To this same place. We always come back here because you just can’t seem to let go of him. I love you but I don’t think I can do this anymore” Yoongi says and suddenly it feels like your entire world is crashing down. He can’t mean he’s breaking up with you? You love Yoongi. You’re in love with Yoongi.

“I- Yoongi no. I-“ You try to express the depths of your feelings for him, but the words just won’t come out. Your mouth is completely dry, as if cotton coats your throat and like you’d swallowed a mouthful of ash. The words are at the tip of your tongue and yet no matter what you do, you just can’t seem to utter them.

“Even now. I see that you’re trying to tell me you love me, but you can’t say the words, can you?” Yoongi asks in complete frustration and your face crumples in despair because he’s right. You both know he is.

“You know you’ve never told me you love me? You just smile, or say same. But you’ve never once said those words to me. Not a single time. And I know. I know it’s because the last person you said it to was him. It’s like you think that saying it to me, will completely remove it from him. That you’ll have nothing of him left. But I can’t do this anymore. I love you and I can’t be him. I’m not him” Yoongi exclaims and his words only causes guilt to wash over you. He doesn’t know you’ve been pretending he was Seokjin and yet it’s like he knows.

You’d once thought that you’d wish Yoongi would take out his frustration. Wish he’d yelled at you instead of being sympathetic. Wished that the two of you would somehow manage to talk it now. But now that it’s happening you hate it. You’d rather he be more understanding. Because he’s right. And his words hurt like a dull knife digging directly into your heart. Yoongi isn’t Seokjin. He could never be Seokjin. They were both night and day and yet in some aspects, just like dawn and dusk, they blend. Seokjin was playful and bright like the summer whereas Yoongi was calm and contemplative, like the winter. Your comparison of them wasn’t fair to either man. They were different human beings, different stories, different personalities. You used to love Seokjin. You would for the rest of your life. But it’s Yoongi that you’re in love with now and you want, want so desperately to express the notion to him. But you can’t.

“You know why I can’t say it. I do. I feel everything I felt for him and so much more towards you. But I can’t… I can’t say the words and you know why. So please, just for now, let it be enough. Can’t it be enough?” You ask, but it’s a futile effort and completely in vain. You can see the exhaustion in Yoongi’s figure. You can see that he’s at breaking point. And yet, you want to try and salvage this relationship. You want to hold on to Yoongi.

“I’m trying to be understanding _____. I really am. But after today… I need some time” Yoongi finally utters as he begins getting dressed. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but watch him. There are so many things you want to say but all you have are actions. And despite the notion that actions speak a thousand words, sometimes actions just aren’t enough. Sometimes you need words. Sometimes you need words of ‘I love you’ and words of affirmation. Because just actions aren’t enough.

They’re not. Not anymore at least. You know that. Yoongi knows that. And he wants to walk away but he sees you, sees the love you have for him in your eyes, in your actions. The way you kiss him and hold him at night. He sees it all. But after tonight, he’s left wondering whether you see him or if you see him. Wonders whether it’s all been a lie. Deep down, he knows. He knows you see him and not anyone else. And you may not be able to say the words but you feel it. But after tonight, feelings just aren’t enough and he needs the words. He needs you to tell him it’s him that you love, and it’s him that you want to be with. But with each passing minute, he knows you aren’t going to say it. No matter how much he hopes.

Time runs out when he’s finally dressed. He lets out a shaky sigh and runs a finger through his hair, pushing the locks out of his eyes. He closes his eyes and draws in every bit of strength and courage he can before turning back to look at you. There’s desperation in your eyes. You want him to stay, but he needs time. Yoongi slowly approaches you, and you perk up, a small inkling of hope in your eyes that maybe it’s okay. That maybe the two of you will somehow get through it.

“I love you. I’m sorry” Yoongi mutters, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. And then he walks away. And every bit of hope you have is gone. And then you’re left completely alone. In the dark of your room.

It’s been two weeks since Yoongi walked out of your apartment. Two whole weeks since you’ve seen your boyfriend. You’ve tried calling and texting him, but he’s ignoring you. Hell, you even tried turning up to his studio, but each time, he wasn’t in. You have no idea where you stand with Yoongi. Whether the two of you have broken up, whether the two of you are still together. You’re completely in the dark. A small part of you wonders if it’s for the best. That’s the same part that still misses and yearns for Seokjin. But the bigger part of you, the one that wants to move on. The one that is in love with Yoongi, wants to make up with him. Wants to kiss him and hold him and be with him forever.

You’ve had two whole weeks to contemplate your feelings. Two whole weeks to sort out exactly what you feel for both Seokjin and Yoongi. Granted, you spent the first few days crying in bed. But the more days that passed, the more you realised, you weren’t crying because of Seokjin. You were crying because you had lost Yoongi. Yoongi with his pretty features, odd sarcastic sense of humour and sleepy tendencies. The same Yoongi who appeared gruff and cold at first, but the more you got to know, the more turned out to be a soft and caring person. And for the first time in years, you’ve come up with a decision. You’ve decided to move on. Seokjin may have been your past, but Yoongi was your future and you’re so in love with him that you can’t imagine your life without him.

You know you have to make it up to him somehow. You need to prove that you love him and most importantly you need to say the words. You have no idea how to go about it however, especially with how much he’s avoiding you. You know Yoongi. He wants his space, but he also wants you to prove he means something to you. You lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you contemplate exactly how you’re going to make it up to him. Suddenly, an idea pops into you head. Yours and Yoongi’s first anniversary is coming up in less than a week. And you have just the idea of how to apologise and win him back.

You scramble out of bed, almost falling when your legs entangle with the covers. You reach over to your phone, messaging the two people you know will be able to help you sort out your predicament, help you plan your apology and make sure that Yoongi actually turns up rather than just avoiding you.

A couple days later, you find yourself in the lamb skewer shop in which you had first met Min Yoongi an entire year and a half ago. Luckily, the restaurant owner had a sweet spot for you from back when you worked here during university and had allowed you to rent out the entire place in order to apologise to Yoongi. You quickly ran around the shop, ensuring everything was perfectly in place and ready to welcome Yoongi. The old man who cooked at the restaurant had left the lamb skewers, rice and a couple other side dishes on the table, ready for the two of you to dine. Checking the time, you began smoothing out your dress and hair; nervously twiddling as you awaited Namjoon and Hoseok’s arrival with Yoongi.

You didn’t have to wait long. A couple moments later, the restaurant door opened and in walked Namjoon and Hoseok, followed by Yoongi. You quickly stood up straight, biting your lip nervously as you set eyes on Yoongi for the first time in almost three weeks. His hair has changed, you notice. Previously dark and natural, it’s now the lightest shade of bleached platinum blonde, falling freely into his eyes. It suits him. He looks radiant. He’s dressed in his usual black skinny jeans and black hoodie but and even though he’s dressed casually and you’ve dolled yourself up, he still somehow manages to look better than you do.

“Wha-What is going on?” Yoongi asks as he spots you. His eyes rove over your figure, the empty restaurant with only one table set up before landing on your face. You smile nervously at him, sending him a hopeful glance.

“We’re gonna go, leave you two to talk this out. Enjoy” Namjoon says with a reassuring smile before grabbing Hoseok and leaving the two of you alone.

“____ what’s going on?” Yoongi asks, still stood in the doorway. He looks around unassured and you feel your heart drop at his uncertainty of being with you. However, you steel yourself and smile at him, trying to suppress your nerves.

“Happy first anniversary!” You say nervously, your feet shifting every now and then.

“Do you think this makes up for everything?” Yoongi asks, his eyes narrowing. You shake your head quickly, gulping hesitantly.

“No. Of course not. I just… give me five minutes to explain?” You plead. Yoongi hesitates before nodding; he walks up to the table you’ve had set up before taking a seat. You quickly take the seat opposite him before you began serving him. Yoongi stares at the plate before turning to you, looking at you expectantly. You sigh, knowing he’s not going to start eating until you say your peace. You bite your lip nervously and take a deep breath before looking directly into his eyes.

“I’m sorry” You begin and Yoongi scoffs, opening his mouth to respond but you shake your head, “no please. Just let me speak?” You quickly cut him off. Yoongi huffs but nods, gesturing for you to continue.

“I’m sorry. I know those words basically mean nothing to you anymore but I need you to know that I am sorry. For everything I’ve put you through this past year. I have no excuses for what I did to you, for what I put you through but I am sorry. I know, I know it’s been two and a half years since him, but you have to understand that I was with him for six years. From high school all the way to the end of university. He’s not a simple part of my past that I can just erase and forget. I loved him and for the longest time, he was my entire world. I was sure we’d grow old and get married together. I’m not going to lie. There were times when I wished he was here, when I’d contemplate the what ifs. What if he was still here. What if he was in your place. What if… he was you. And that wasn’t fair to you. You’re not Seokjin. You’re your own person and I shouldn’t have compared the two of you. You’re right. It has been two and a half years… and he’s not coming back. No matter how much time passes. And it’s not fair to keep living in the past” You begin. Yoongi watches you, his expression stoic, eyes shielded from you, giving nothing away of his feelings.

“I’m sorry for the way I made you feel, that you were second best or that you had to compete with him. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I shouldn’t have made you feel like that. And you’re not. You’re not my second choice. You changed my entire world Yoongi. When we met, in this restaurant, a year and a half ago. I was a complete mess. I was still heartbroken and lost and drowning in my own memories. But you pulled me out. You made everything so much better. I didn’t think I could ever feel the way I felt for him again. But I did. I fell for you harder than I thought was possible. I had no idea that meeting you would change my life but it did” You continue, your voice cracking and eyes welling up with tears.

“Losing you for two weeks showed me that I can’t keep living in the past. I can’t… I can’t keep thinking about the what ifs or wondering about what my life would be like with Seokjin. Not when it means losing you. I can’t keep comparing you to him and I definitely can’t be imagining you as him. You were right. I felt guilty. I felt guilty about moving on and that was why I couldn’t say the words. I did feel like, if I said it, I would lose the very last piece of him that I had left and I wasn’t ready. But I’m ready now. I’m ready to move on, with you. I want to be with you Yoongi. Only you. For the rest of my life, if you’ll have me?” You finally finish, hope in your voice. Yoongi lets out a little sigh. He rubs the back of his neck nervously before looking at you hesitantly.

“I love you ____. But, I don’t know if I can do this. I need to know that you want to be with me. How do I know this isn’t the same as before? That you apologise now and everything is fine for a few weeks before you’re thinking about him again? I can’t keep fighting you for someone who isn’t here. I feel like I’ve had every piece of you, the good, the bad. But I don’t feel like I’ve had the best, because it feels like those pieces are reserved for him. It feels like there are times when you see me but then other times I’m sharing you with his memory. When you wake up in the middle of the night crying out for him and I have to hold you and piece you back together. I can’t keep doing that because it hurts. It hurts knowing you’re not fully mine. That you’re not fully committed to me I want to believe you. I love you and I want to be with you… but I’m not sure anymore” Yoongi finally responds and you shake your head. The tears threaten to seep from your eyes and you reach out for his hand, gripping it tightly within your own.

“It’s different this time. It’s different because I’m letting him go. I love you. I am so irrevocably and uncontrollably in love with you, Min Yoongi. I know I’ve never said it before but I am now. Because I do. I love you. I love you so much. Please. I love you so much” You cry, the tears now falling freely as you sob the words out over and over again. You feel Yoongi remove his hand from yours and you lose the last bit of hope you had, wondering if perhaps it was too late. If the damage was too deep and scarring to recover from.

But then, he places his hand on your cheek and you release another sob. You melt into his hand, nuzzling into the palm before opening your eyes. Yoongi’s own eyes are slightly watery, but you know him well enough to know that he won’t let them fall. You let out a shaky breath before smiling at him, his eyes soft and filled with love, just like you remember them. Yoongi stands up, pulling you to your feet before leaning across the table and kissing you. His soft lips press into yours, moulding against your own lips. The two of you kiss for what feels like forever, your heart soaring as the both of you pour out all the love you have for each other.

Eventually, the two of you break apart. You let out a hiccupping laugh, foreheads pressed against each other’s. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the tears before placing another delicate kiss against your lips. You grin at him, the two of you taking a seat at the table again. The food has long since gone cold, but you don’t care. You feel giddy, staring at Yoongi with a semi-wobbly smile.

“That’s the first time you told me you love me” Yoongi says, failing to suppress a smile and your heart pounds at his trademark gummy smile.

“I love you. I’ll say it as much as you want me to. I love you. I love you. I love you” You repeat over and over, loving the way pink dusts Yoongi’s cheeks as he blushes. He lets out a little laugh, unable to control himself and you giggle at the childlike exuberance he displays.

“I love you too. I love you so much” Yoongi utters, bringing your hand between his and entwining your fingers together before pulling them up to his lips, pressing soft kisses into the pads of your fingertips.

The two of you begin tucking into the lamb skewers, Yoongi groaning at the taste before praising them for being the best thing he’s ever tasted. You shake your head, laughing at him as you pile some more onto his plate. Somehow you both fall into an easy conversation, Yoongi talking about his latest project. You simply watch and listen as he goes on and on, loving the slight sparkle in his eye. You love when he gets like this, love how passionate he is about music. He’s currently talking about Hoseok’s soon to come out album and the different tracks he’s helped produce on it. You sit back and take him in, feeling yourself fall in love with him all over again.

“Happy first anniversary” You suddenly say, breaking his train of thought. Yoongi stills for a minute, perplexity written all over him before his face softens. He smiles widely at you, bright pink gums on display.

“Happy first-anniversary, ____” Yoongi replies. And it does. Feel like a happy anniversary. Because for the first time in years, Seokjin is nowhere in your mind. You’re completely focused on the man in front of you, the love of your life.

“Hi. It’s been a while. Three years on this day to be exact. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know how to face you, or have enough courage to come here. I miss you. I still miss you. Every day. More and more each day. I think I’ll miss you forever. I’m not going to lie. The day you left… the day you disappeared. I felt like a piece of me died. I loved you. For six years, I loved you. You said forever and I believed you. You promised you’d be here always. You were my everything. There are days when I smell someone wearing that stupid cologne you used to wear that I hated, or when your favourite cooking channel comes on and I miss you even more. I sometimes walk passed your gym and find myself just staring in, wondering if I’ll by chance see you working out there. Silly I know. You’d probably laugh at me if you could” You chuckle, taking in a deep breath as you think about what you want to say next.

“I’ll love you forever. I know I will but I think I have to let you go now. I think that’s what you’d want me to do. If you were still here and saw me the past few years, you’d probably yell at me in the way you used to and be like ‘yah! Life is for the living’ or something stupid like that and then you’d crack a stupid dad joke. I miss those stupid jokes. But yeah, I think you’d want me to move on. And I have. I’ve found someone else. His name is Min Yoongi, he’s a rapper and producer. I have a feeling that the two of you would have loved each other and would have gotten along really well. He’s a few months younger than you but I swear he’s grumpy old man. He loves fishing, just like you did. He actually took me to your favourite fishing spot one day. I missed you a lot that day. I swore I saw you then, but it’s probably my mind playing trick on me. I think if you were still around and you met Yoongi, he’d try to teach you the piano and you’d try to teach him the guitar. He doesn’t like working out though, but he does love basketball. You weren’t very good at basketball, even though you were so tall. Your shoulders and limbs were too long, you had no idea what to do with them. I’m just rambling now, sorry” You continue, tears rolling down your cheeks, a wistful smile on your face as you mindlessly play with the bouquet of blue flowers in your hand.

“I brought you your favourite flowers. The smeraldo ones you loved so much. Usually, people give white lilies but I looked up the meaning for these. ‘The sincerity that could not be delivered’, I think that’s very apt, don’t you? I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to come here, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t come here knowing I still wasn’t over you because I know that’s the last thing you’d have wanted. But I’m happy now. And in love with Min Yoongi. So desperately in love with him. Which is why I’m letting you go. It’s not fair that Yoongi has to compete with your ghost. I’ll never forget you. You were my first love. I love you. I always will. But I’m no longer in love with you” You sob out, furiously wiping the tears at your eyes.

You kneel over, crying softly as you place the bouquet of flowers down by Seokjin’s grave. You let out a little sob, reaching a hand out and brushing it against his name carved into the marble headstone before tracing the letters that spell out ‘beloved fiancé’. You pull your hand away, clenching it into a fist before covering your face with your hands, sobbing your entire heart out. You sit there for another five minutes; crying out every one of your feelings as you mourn the loss of you past lover. A few more moments pass and your sobs settle down into little sniffles. You wipe your face furiously before picking yourself up and off the ground. Taking in a few calming breaths, you steel yourself before looking down at his grave again.

“Until we meet again. Goodbye Seokjin” You finally utter, saying your final farewell. Then you turn around and walk away. You slowly stroll to the entrance of the cemetery, Yoongi standing by the gates, waiting for you. Yoongi smiles at you sadly but you shake your head. You hurriedly walk over to him, taking his hand into yours before smiling brightly at him.

“I love you” You smile, leaning on your tip toes before pressing a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek. Yoongi’s grip on your hand tightens, squeezing as he offers you comfort.

“I love you too,” Yoongi says, smiling back at you. Your eyes are lighter now, brighter. There’re no dark shadows hiding in them, or that small inkling of melancholy that used to be hidden deep within them. Yoongi squeezes your hand again. Finally, it feels like he has you all to himself.

Because for one, you’re looking at him and only him. And there are no ghosts of your ex-boyfriend haunting you.

a/n: not going to lie, i sobbed like a little bitch writing the final scene

Mixtape Series | Masterlist

#btssmutclub #hyunglinenetwork #kpopwonderlandtag #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #mygsnet #BTS au #bts fic #bts imagine #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga x reader #yoongi angst #suga angst #bts suga au #yoongi au

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twit-moonstar · 4 years

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as long as we’re together - brian may x writer!reader

N/A: This is purely a self-indulgent fic I wrote mainly for myself, but I though it be nice to share and see what happens. First half of it it’s just y/n having a crisis, tho, and the second part is like domestic fluff. hope u enjoy! comments, reblogs and likes are greatly apreciated <3

As if being an adult wasn’t difficult enough, you had the dream of becoming a published author and, before starting to try to write, you hadn’t thought about the bohemian lifestyle you would have to face and embrace.

Your parents had pushed you—well, forced seemed a more appropriate word—to study Law, but after a few months after starting you dropped it. It wasn’t what you wanted, you were constantly stressed and unhappy by the prospect of the future that waited for you once you graduated.

Abandoning your career, though, meant the extra help your parents offered was snatched away from your hands. Rent wasn’t extremely expensive—you shared a little apartment with Brian and you only paid half of it—, but you still had to buy food and other necessary things.

Without your parent’s income, you had found work as a waitress at a restaurant and started to send your short stories to some newspapers and magazines to get a little extra money.

You had been suffering from a hard writer’s block lately, though.

Rereading for the second time the paragraph that you had already written five times, you ripped off the paper and made it a bun, throwing it on the floor. A new blank sheet confronted you and you decided to throw away your notebook and pencil with fury.

You were at the edge of tears. Not even that glass of cheap wine you swallowed half an hour ago had helped you to take off the feeling of utter desperation and defeat. If anything, it had only made you feel worse.

The words your father spate at you once or twice came to your mind. ‘All writers are just a bunch of alcoholics’. He had never appreciated your art, no one on your family did actually.

They wouldn’t probably support you until they had a properly published book of yours in their hands since your short stories on newspapers did not seem to impress them.

People have the impression that anyone can write but the truth is very few can manage to write words in a way that has any meaning something. Of course, you were starting to doubt you had that kind of talent.

You check the clock on the wall. 1 a.m. Fear starts to creep from your chest to your throat where it left a lump to settle on your head at this hour, usually, if you’re not sleeping.

These quiet moments at night are where you feel the most that you will never make it, that all your dreams are not more than a little dumb girl’s dream. The letter you received today just seems to fuel that thought.

It’s like running behind a car, you think. You can never be fast enough to reach it, no matter how fast you run.

You look at the notebook on the floor, just a few steps ahead of where you are sitting. You need to write something and send it to the newspaper tomorrow but nothing you wrote was good enough. You needed the money. You couldn’t allow Brian to pay again for your part, he was as short of money as you; especially now that his band was spending their money in their first album.

"What are you doing?" Brian asks with his arms crossed and his head resting against the wall, one of his curls falling over his eyes, but he doesn’t bother in push it away.

You don’t dare to look at him in the eyes, so instead, you keep your eyes down. "Just writing," you mutter.

He enters the living room, sitting next to you on the sofa. "Something is bothering you, isn’t it, my love?" Brian takes a lock of your hair and puts it behind your ear, then cupping your cheek.

You lean into his soothing touch with a heavy sigh that comes from the deepest of your chest.

"I- I just -" you sobbed and Brian hugged you immediately upon realizing it, his arms drawing you to his chest and one of his hands caressing your back in circles, comfortably. He shushed softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but you couldn’t hear more than your sobs drowned against his shirt.

Your eyes land on the ripped envelope on the table. You could recite the words on the letter inside by memory by how much you’ve stared at it.

“What’s wrong?”

I’m a fucking fraud, that’s what’s wrong. What if I’m not good at writing? What if this isn’t what I was meant to be? If I’m not a writer, then who am I? But you can’t bring yourself to say that, the lump on your throat doesn’t allow you, so you just pull away and after taking the letter, you hand it to him. He starts to read with a careful expression. You recite it internally.

‘Dear Y/N Y/L/N Thank you very much for allowing us to consider your novel, which we have looked at with interest. However, I regret that we have reluctantly concluded that we could not publish it with commercial success…’

Did I waste all these years?

“This is bullshit.”

You don’t expect to hear him curse so angrily, but his brows are furrowed and his usually soft hazel eyes are sparkling with fury.

“You’re extremely talented and your book is amazing! You spent years working on it!”

“Yeah.”

“I think it would be a fucking commercial success,” he states but you bite your inferior lip to avoid the tears from spilling. The editorial doesn’t think that way and seems like the rest of the others who received your novel didn’t either.

At least you got a response. Most people don’t even get that.

“It’s the only response I’ve got, Bri. I don’t think I’ll ever get published,” you whisper and he throws the letter to the floor and kneels in front of you, wiping away your tears.

“Whatever. I’ve got to keep working,” you reply dryly, cleaning your face with your hands and picking up the notebook and the pen. Brian stares at you.

“No, you’re tired. I’ll prepare you a bath and then you can go to bed,” he states, taking away the notebook from your hands and you whine.

“Brian! I have to do this!” You say furiously, but he doesn’t even flinch to your elevated tone of voice. You, on the other hand, close your eyes with regret and breath deeply.

“Bri, I’m busy. Let me alone.”

You hate yourself for asking him that because you don’t mean it. Being alone is the exact opposite of what you need, but you decide the money is far more important than your emotional state at the moment.

You could always cry later.

“No. I know well enough to know what you’re trying to do. You’re overworking yourself while you drown on your self-pity.”

“I’m not doing that,” you say but the quickness on your reply gives you away.

“Please, take a bath,” he asks, taking your hand.

You shrug. “I guess I could drown in the tub.”

He laughs with little amusement and leaves to return for you after ten minutes. You would be lying if you said the hot water didn’t look appealing. Brian helps you to take off your clothes and you sit on the tub.

“Please tell me you didn’t use my oils and scents.”

“Uh, I did.”

“That was the last I had! I was saving them for a special occasion!”

“Drowning seems special enough,” he says with a shrug.

“Very funny.”

“What were you trying to write, anyway?”

“A story for the newspaper.”

“Why have you been selling your stories for cents? You know they have much worth than that,” he asks. He reaches for the shampoo, putting a bit on his hands and starting to wash your hair. You close your eyes and let him do it. Brian’s hands always find a way to relax.

“I need the money,” you reply.

“What for?”

“Rent and food.”

“Y/N, you know I can take care of it,” he says, almost reproaching you.

You feel a little uneasy before the idea of Brian paying for you, you didn’t like to ask money borrowed and less if you knew that he would be too gentlemanly to accept your money later, even if he needed it.

“We’re not a married couple in the thirties, Bri. I can’t ask you to pay for me. I don’t even know where did you get the money from last rent. I didn’t cover my part.”

“You don’t need to ask for anything, love.”

“Still, I don’t want you to do that”

“I know you just said we’re not a married couple but as long as we’re together, I’ll support you when you need me, y'know?”

Your eyes teared once again and you smiled as you tried to prevent crying again. How were you blessed with such a kind and considerate man like Brian? You were such a mess, lately, but he never backed off from being a firm yet gentle shoulder to cry on.

“Thanks. I promise I’ll repay you,” you say.

“You don’t have to. C’mmon, let’s get you out of the tube before you start to get too wrinkled,” he replies, helping you to stand out. As Brian leaves you to dry yourself, he gets you some comfortable clothes. Once you were dressed, you both lied on the bed, you on Brian’s arms.

“Tell me about your day,” you said and you felt him smile against your hair.

“We tried recording a new song today, I’m not quite sure if the name is good, though,” he commented, running his hand through your hair. You closed your eyes and let him ramble about the problems they had with today’s recording.

“You’re falling asleep already?” he asked in a whisper.

“No, I’m listening,” you mumbled but you felt yourself drifting away more and more.

“That’s okay, my love. Sleep.”

“I love you,” you mumbled.

“Love you too,” he replied and you finally fell asleep.

#brian may x reader #brian may x you #brian may x y/n #brian may fanfic #brian may fanfiction #brian may headcanon #brian may x female reader #brian may x male reader

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years

Text

Love and Leather /part fifty five/

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: I hope y’all still love me even though it took me three weeks to update :/ So this is where the timeline is gonna start getting a little weird, a lot of time jumps will be happening. Anyways! Enjoy! I’m pairing ‘Home Sweet Home’ from the playlist for this chapter.

Warnings: language, implied smut, this is for the ones that ship Van and T-bone

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @baiabouk @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy, @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120@xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @missysixxter @sleepyjunhong @lovemythsworld @meetthesixxter, @love-struck-aries, @lavendersoundbarrier, @minxtruck, @idumpyourgrass, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @oskea93, @xsixxx, @fentitrbl, @cruesixxlover1991, @arianareirg,

*a year later, June 1992*

*Nikki’s POV*

“Dude! Turn on MTV right fucking now!” I pulled my ear away from the phone at Tommy’s loud yelling.

“Dude, calm the fuck down. I’m doing it.” I grumbled, leaving my office as I walked down the stairs to the living room and flipped on MTV:

‘In tonight’s pop culture news we have quite a lot to discuss. Nirvana has hit the airwaves and have become quite the frenzy with their video for ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’, MC hammer has topped the charts with his hit ‘You Can’t Touch This’, and Nikki Sixx’s ex has resurfaced after being M.I.A for a whole year and we exclusively have an interview.’

My heart dropped to my fucking ballsack. Vanity? She did an interview?

“Tommy, what the fuck.”

“Dude! I know right! I know a chick that works at MTV and she told me they got word Vanity was in Dallas and had one of their agents find her.”

I chuckled, “That’s so fucked up.” I knew she hated having the paparazzi in her face, even if she enjoyed a lot of attention. She hated the stupid questions and the cameras:

‘So Vanity Blackwood was with Motley Crue’s bassist, Nikki Sixx for the longest time until the relationship got rocked with a cheating scandal involving playboy Brandi Brandt. Let’s take a look at how the interview went.’

Vanity was carrying a birthday cake as she saw someone coming up to her with a video camera, “Vanity Blackwood! I’m Eric from MTV can I have a minute?” Under the black shades, Vanity was sending a death glare towards the man.

“Yeah man, sure.” Vanity grumbled, putting a birthday cake into the backseat of her car.

“It’s so nice to see you in Dallas, what’s the birthday cake for?”

Vanity rolled her eyes, “A birthday, obviously. It’s my brothers birthday today and we’re having a party.”

The man was shaky with the hand held video recorder, “Oh right! Happy birthday to your brother. Are you just visiting your family here or do you live in the area? Everyone’s curious as to what you’re up too as of late.”

Vanity smirked, leaning against her car as she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, “I’ve been around. But I am visiting my family.”

“Oh....so you aren’t living in Texas? Where have you been hiding that beautiful face at?”

Vanity shrugged, “Like I’ve said, I’ve been around.” Vanity smiled at the camera, making my heart burst full of energy.

“God, she’s fucking glowing, T-bone.” I muttered as I sat down on the couch and turned up the volume, “She seems so happy.”

I heard a sigh from Tommy, “Wonder if she has a boyfriend or something.” I frowned, that idea alone pissed me off.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Give me something to work with, where’ve you been hiding?”

Vanity chuckled a bit, running her nails through her hair, “I’ve been...I was in Dallas for a little bit but then I moved somewhere else and I’m happy where I am at.”

“Did you find yourself a new man, angel?”

Vanity shook her head, “No, I have too much going on right now to be dating someone. I’m doing good by myself, don’t need anyone else’s problems in my life.”

Eric chuckled, “Was that a jab at your ex fiancé, Nikki Sixx? I’m sure there was a lot of problems...want to elaborate?”

Vanity stared at the man, “That..that wasn’t a jab and I’d really not like to talk about my past relationship with him.”

“Look, if you don’t mind..I got somewhere I need to be, sooo....can we wrap this thing up?” Vanity asked, rushing through the questions as she opened up her car door.

“Okay, okay! One more! Did you see that Motley Crue has been together for ten years now and they’re celebrating with their ‘Decade of Decadence album?”

Vanity exhaled deeply, looking down at the parking lot, “Yeah, Yeah I saw....I saw they did a cover of ‘Anarchy in the U.K.”

“Oh? So you’re still a fan of Motley Crue?”

Vanity laughed, “No, I’m a fan of the Sex Pistols...anymore questions?”

“Oh dude!-“ Tommy started laughing, “That’s fucking brutal, damn Sixx. She’s not even a fan anymore.”

“Fuck you, Tommy.” I growled before hanging up on him.

I watched as Vanity got into the car, but the dude put his hand on the door to keep her from closing it, “Okay Princess, just one more?”

Vanity looked over, seeming pissed off, “Yes?”

“You don’t have anything to say? About the band? The album? Maybe Nikki?”

“The band....the four of them know I will always enjoy their music. I congratulate them on their new album and the work put into it. As for Sixx...” Vanity stopped talking as she put her sunglasses back down over her face.

“I have nothing to say to that fuckhead.”

I smirked at the TV, “Sure you don’t, princess.” I whispered as a quick slam of the door startled me, “Brandi, hey...” I spat out, feeling my heart jump out of my chest as I quickly changed the channel, “How was the photoshoot?”

She mimicked, “How was the photoshoot? Oh it could have been better if my photographer actually shut the fuck up about that god damn interview!” She yelled, pointing at the TV.

“Who the fuck does that cunt think she is?!” She screamed at me, my eyes going wide, “Clearly, she has nothing better to do then shit on you and the band!”

“Hey, Hey! Calm down, alright?! It was nothing! It was just a stupid interview from those vultures. It’s nothing.” I told her, getting off the couch and walking towards Brandi.

“She called you a fuckhead. Doesn’t that upset you?” She questioned as I shrugged.

“She’s called me a lot worse. I’m not too worried about it, you shouldn’t be either okay babe? No reason to come in blazing hot.”

Brandi nodded as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, my arms snaking around her slim waist as I brought her to me, “I love you.” I said, lowering my head down to kiss her lips, but she turned her head to the side.

“Do you?”

I glared down at her, “Yes, I do love you Brandi. I love you more then I give off, I know. But I’m trying.” I spoke softly as her lips spread into a small smile.

“I know you are, but I would like a little bit more effort. We’ve been together for a year now and you’re barely just now referring to me as your girlfriend in the press.” She explained, a hint of annoyance in her voice as I slumped back onto the couch.

“Brandi, I’m just...I’m private with my relationships. I don’t like having the press in all of my business. That’s it.” I explained to her as she rested her hands on her slim hips, standing in front of me as she blocked the TV.

“Anything else, Angel?” I questioned as she smirked down at me.

“My mother is in town and she wants to go out to dinner tonight. I told her we would meet her at six o’clock.” She spoke, raising an eyebrow as she saw the hesitation on my face.

I wasn’t ready to meet her mother. The only reason I wasn’t ready was because I’ve already met her mother. I met Brandi’s mom on the Girls, Girls, Girls tour and I fucked her.

“Oh...uh, okay.” I cleared my throat as I shifted uncomfortably.

“Can I have your card to go buy a new dress?” She asked sweetly as I nodded. If it gets you out of my face for a few hours, sure.

I dug out my wallet and handed her my black credit card, “Do not overspend.” I warned her as she smiled, reaching down to kiss my lips before she left out the front door.

I groaned, stretching as Anna walked up to me with her stuffed monkey hanging from her lips. I smiled, scratching the top of her head as she looked up at me with her big brown eyes.

*a week later, Vanity’s POV*

Arianna’s big brown eyes stared up at me as this child was fighting her afternoon nap, “Arianna, you need to take a nap. You take one every day what makes today any different?” I asked as I sat on the edge of her bed as she sleepily rubbed her eyes.

“Mommy, no nap time.” She whined as I gave her a stern look.

“Well, I guess we will just tell auntie Clem we’re not going out for pizza tonight.” I said as she pouted, using her best puppy dog eyes on me.

“But...but mom!” Arianna squealed as she held onto her stuffed teddy bear and covered it up with her unicorn pink blanket.

“I’ll...I’ll take a nap.” She whispered ever so softly as I smiled and nodded. I stood up and kissed the top of her head before leaving her room, her bedroom door slightly ajar.

I exhaled deeply as I saw the mess in the kitchen from lunch time and the sticky residue from her painting with glitter. I ignored it all and plopped down on the couch. Not even having a moment to myself before someone knocked at the door and I quickly got up to get it.

“Hi sorry, couldn’t dig my keys out of my purse.” Clementine explained, hands full of canvases and paint. I closed the door as she put everything on the table.

“I have a date with Klaus tomorrow night.” She explained to me as I chose to clean up the kitchen now.

“Oh yeah? Where’s he taking you now? Another bohemian coffee shop?” I laughed at myself as I could feel Clementine glaring at the back of my head.

“No, he’s taking me to the restaurant at the top of the Empire State Building.” She nervously replied as I turned around and faced her, leaning against the counter.

“He has money for that? No offense, I thought he was also a struggling artist and ate ramen too...”

“What? What do you mean?” She questioned, sitting down on the barstool.

“That uh restaurant is like super duper expensive, I’ve been with uh...” I cleared my throat and started putting dishes in the sink, “..uh...the uh band and it was really, really expensive, like three hundred dollars for half a bottle of wine expensive.”

She frowned, “Oh, well he said he’s had reservations for two months now. He told me they have a black tie formal wear dress code, so I need your help.”

I was amused with her, “I probably have a few dresses you might like.” I said, motioning her to follow me to my bedroom. I opened up my closet, it was small compared to the one in the house I shared with Nikki, but it held everything and I didn’t have anyone breathing down my neck to get rid of some clothes.

“Well, uh...what color do you want to wear? I have black, some blues, reds, dark green...white.” I said looking over my shoulder as I pushed hanger after hanger.

I pulled out a whole bunch of dresses and threw them on my bed, “I also have jewelry you could borrow if you wanted...”

I watched as her eyes lit up when she started going through the colorful scheme of fabrics, “This is absolutely beautiful...” she trailed off as she found a price tag that never got taken off.

I scratched the top of my head as she looked at me, “It’s uh...never been worn....” I mumbled, sitting down on my bed as I watched her check out my closet.

"Vanity, you make me feel poor." Clementine expresses as she came out of the closet holding a plain black dress

“Because you are poor.” I laughed, gazing with a sigh as I checked out the dress, “....He always said I had to much clothes.”

I heard the doorbell ring, “Try it on. I’ll be right back.” I told her as I left my bedroom, quickly popping into Arianna’s room and seeing she was still napping. I walked through the townhome, tripping over a Barbie doll before getting to the front door. I unlatched the chain and opened the door, “Fuck!!” I yelled out, slamming it shut as I leaned my back against it.

“Now is that anyway to treat a friend, princess?” I closed my eyes, hearing knuckles create a beat against the wood.

I wiped my face, opening the front door as messy brown curls and a whole lotta tattoos stood in front of me, “Hey Van....nice place you got here.”

I shook my head, staring at him in disbelief, “What? What are you doing here Tommy?”

He shrugged, taking off his sunglasses and pushing them to the top of his head, “Well I missed you too.” He chuckled, trying to step forward but I closed the door a little more.

“Van...c’mon. I just flew three thousand miles to come see you.” Tommy expressed as his smile died down and he was now stoic.

“You need to leave.” I said, trying to close the door in his face but he wrapped his hand around the frame.

“Vanity, what the fuck? Loose the attitude and let’s talk. I’m not the one who cheated on you.” Tommy demanded as his words stabbed through my chest. You’d think I’d be over it by now.

I glared at him, “How do you know where I live?”

He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans, “Mmm, a little birdie named Greyson Blackwood.”

I groaned in frustration, I’ll have to call him later.

“...You didn’t even tell me goodbye. You coulda at least left a message telling me you were leaving. I had no idea for like a week.”

I closed my eyes, opening the door so he could come in, “T-bone, it’s just complicated and I didn’t want to involve you.”

“I know, but I thought you know we were like family..” I frowned, hearing him talk as I started cleaning up the kitchen again, “...I came as soon as I had free time. So New York, huh?”

I loaded up the dishwasher, “Uh, Yeah. I like it here, it’s different then Los Angeles. It seemed good, and I needed a fresh of breath air.”

“And look at you, doing household chores. I’m very impressed.” Tommy chuckled as he took off his jacket and sat down.

I heard tiny pitter patter of Arianna’s feet coming down the hallway, “Whoa...you’re a babysitter now? That’s kinda hot.” Tommy mumbled as he looked at Arianna.

��I took a nap mommy.” Arianna smiled up at me as I picked her up and held her at my hip. I glanced over at Tommy seeing his eyes go wide as he stared at us.

“Mommy?” T-bone blurted out as his face was riddled with confusion.

“Arianna.....meet Tommy, he’s your uncle. T-bone, meet Arianna, she’s your niece.” I spoke softly as Arianna looked back and forth between us.

“Like Gee-Gee?” Ari questioned me as I nodded, “Yes, just like uncle Greyson.”

“No fucking way!!” Tommy yelled as he got off the barstool, “Tommy! Language!”

“What is with all the yelling? Oh....” Clementine came around the corner in a plunging red dress that fit her curves well.

“Hello there...” Tommy spoke, walking over to Clem and sticking out his hand, “I’m Tommy Lee.”

My stomach was doing a very impressive acrobatic trick while watching Tommy put on that persona anytime he saw a chick he found attractive.

“Clementine.” She said coldly, brushing off his extended hand, “...and I know who you are.” Her coldness left me burned as I saw Tommy cower down and come back over to the chair.

“Auntie I took a nap and we can still get pizza, right?” Arianna begged her as I groaned quietly.

“Of course angel, but not till later. How about we play dress up and let Mommy talk to her...Tommy.”

“Ha!” Arianna exclaimed before sticking her tongue out at me. I narrowed my eyes at her as she ran laughing down the hallway. I turned my attention back to Tommy who was already staring at me.

“What the fuck? You’re a mom? When did that happen? Where’s the father? You met someone else?” Tommy bombarded me with questions as he dragged me over to the couch and made me sit with him.

“She’s about eighteen months and her dad well he’s-“

“So you went into hiding because you got knocked up?! Vanity, what the fuck!” He yelled, standing up as he began pacing around the living room, “Where’s the fucker that got you pregnant?!”

I was about to speak again, “A mom?! You’re a mom! Not just a mom but you’re a fucking milf, dude!!”

I sighed leaning my head into the palm of my hand as I rested my elbow against the couch, “Oh wait...are you in a relationship with that chick? You went lesbo after Nikki? That’s fucking hot!!”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the decorative pillow and throwing it at him, “Would you shut up for five seconds so I can tell you?”

He got quiet, putting his arms out, “Well I am waiting!”

“I am not in a relationship with Clementine she’s just a chick I met and she’s been there for me. Arianna’s father, well-“ I started laughing, “He’s sitting in his mansion in Los Angeles. You might know him, he’s your bassist.”

Tommy’s eyes might as well of popped out of his skull, “Nikki?!? No, no, no. You...you left.”

I rolled my eyes again, “Tommy, I wouldn’t lie about it.”

“But you left! You left him and-“ “I left him for a good fucking reason!!” I shouted at Tommy and he closed his lips knit tight.

“I fucking left because he cheated on me! Just like how you cheated on Heather!” I continued to quietly yell as I saw his usual playful demeanor change, “I found him getting his dick sucked by that stupid cunt! In our house, in our shower Tommy!”

“But…but you were pregnant, he knew right?” Tommy questioned as I stared at him, trying to figure out what to say, “Vanity…he knows, right?” He repeated himself as I shook my head.

“He has no clue-“ “Jesus Christ!”

I frowned, “T-bone, just listen to me.” I said, grabbing his hand as I made him sit down next to me, “He has no idea, and it has to stay like that.” His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“What?! No! Nikki has a right to know! You know how much he wanted to be a dad.” He spoke softly as I nodded.

“I know, Tommy. I know-“ “Do you Vanity? Because that’s kinda fucked up.”

I groaned, “I know! But I am not ready! I will tell him when the time is right. I’m not…I don’t want to talk to him, you don’t understand Tommy.” My voice cracked, feeling the lump in the back of my throat as I felt tears begin to form.

“So you want me to lie to him? He’s my brother Van. I can’t just lie to him.”

I shook my head, “I’m…I’m not asking you to lie to him. Just don’t tell him you came and saw me. It’s just you that’s here…right? Nobody else?”

He nodded, pushing his brown curls out of his face, “Yeah, it’s just me. Ever since your little interview a week ago I just wanted to find you. I really did miss you, Vanity.”

I smiled, reaching over and placing my hand on the side of his cheek, “I’ve missed you too, T-bone. So much.” I said before moving over and wrapping him up in a big hug.

“Ahem…” Clementine said as I let go of Tommy and saw her standing in a black cocktail dress.

“Well don’t you look hot? Tommy, tell her she looks hot.” I said, smacking his chest gently.

“Smokin, Babe.” Tommy retorted quickly, sending a wink her way.

“Do you like the dress? I bet Klaus would like it.” I suggested as she rolled her eyes. Arianna walked from around the couch and climbed up right between me and Tommy.

“You got drawings on you.” Arianna pointed at the tattoos on his arms.

“Oh yeah, aren’t they cool? I dig them a lot.” Tommy chuckled a bit as Arianna stared at all of them, “That’s a kitty.” She pointed to the leopard on his forearm.

“Remind me why I’m going out with him again?” Clementine asked as I glanced back at her.

“Uh, the first guy you saw at the opening night of the gallery. He’s kinda cute…and it’s been a while of just going on dates and you keep telling me he isn’t your boyfriend so…” I tried explaining as she turned around and looked at me.

“Because he isn’t. He says he has too much on his plate to add a girlfriend too it.”

“Oh, so he just wants to fu- I mean bang.” Tommy quickly corrected himself as Clementine glared at him.

“Who asked you?” She spat out as I slapped my hand over my face to not laugh.

“Anyways! Is this dress good or should I try something else?”

“Try something else.” Tommy blurted out, eyes glancing down at her legs before meeting her gaze and smiling.

I nodded, “Yeah try something else. There’s a dark green, rather velvety with black rhinestones dress hanging in there. I hate it now and you can have it if you like it.”

Tommy started mumbling to himself, “Wait…hey didn’t you wear that to the album release…party…” Tommy eventually stopped talking as he met my death glare, “Yeah, try that one.” Tommy said, clearing his throat.

I exhaled as I watched Clem go back to my bedroom, “How long are you staying for Tommy?”

He drummed his fingers against his lap as Arianna watched him curiously, “As long as you will let me crash at your place. Don’t feel like getting a hotel.” He shrugged as he looked down at Arianna who smiled and looked away from him, giggling.

“Oh, uh yeah that’s fine you can crash on the couch.” I suggested as he gave me a weird look.

“The couch? You mean your bed? I’m not sleeping on this thing.” He clarified as I chuckled and nodded, “Okay, yeah my bed works too.”

I got up from the couch, feeling Arianna follow me as I picked her up and held her up in my arms, “Lazy butt…” I whispered, tickling her sides as she laughed at me.

“You hungry T-bone? Thirsty? Are you still sober?” I questioned him as he sighed.

“I drink now but no drugs.” I furrowed my eyebrows at his words. So much for the sober band thing.

I got a sippy cup of juice for Arianna and two whiskey glasses for Tommy and I, filling them only half way with the brown liquor and ice cubes.

Arianna eventually wanted down and went to play with her toys as I sat back down with Tommy at my hip. I noticed he had already made himself comfortable and kicked his boots up on my coffee table and started flipping through the channels.

“I’m sorry about Heather, T-bone. I know you loved her a lot.” I spoke softly as he nodded, but I still saw that frown.

“It was my fault, I fucked up.”

I shook my head, taking a sip of my drink. I felt bad for Heather, she was such a nice girl. Too nice of a girl to be wrapped up in the rockstar life with Tommy Lee.

“So, Clementine-“ I instantly glared at him, “Tommy, absolutely not. Clementine is too nice for someone like you. She does not need all the problems. No, hell no.” I retorted as he grinned like the devil.

“Too nice? But you know I like them nice and sweet. I could get her easily.” Tommy oozed confidence as he rested into the couch, putting his hands behind his head.

I snorted in laughter, “She is not just a hole for you stick your dick in. She has morals and potential and she’s motivated. She’s off limits T-bone.”

He sighs deeply, “Well, she’s pretty. And she doesn’t seem like someone you’d having hanging around. She’s too good for you too. We’re two peas in a pod, Princess.” Tommy teased as he squeezed my thigh, smirking at me as he turned his attention back to the basketball game.

“She’s amazing and I’m so happy I met her. Arianna is a handful sometimes and she always comes to the rescue.” I explained as Tommy nodded.

“Okay, sh. The game is on.” Tommy chuckled as I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder.

“Vanity, this is too fancy…” I turned my head, seeing Clementine wearing the dress I told her to go try. I felt my chest tighten and my brain being flooded with the memories associated with that dress.

“It feels really nice though. I really like it.” She explained as I nodded and cleared my throat.

“I only wore it once…” I mumbled quietly as Tommy snickered.

“Once? The fuck? This…this is like so fucking beautiful Vanity. How could you wear something like this one time?”

“Because she wore it to the Dr. Feelgood album release party and she was photographed all night. So in her own words, she could never wear the same dress twice.” Tommy butted in as I glared at him.

“Shut up, you twig.”

Clementine giggled, “oh, did you know the zipper was broken? I had to mess with it but I finally got it up.”

I shrugged, “No, I had no idea.”

*Flashback*

“This stupid fucking zipper is not going down.” Nikki grumbled as his lips were pressed to my neck and shoulder.

“That’s cause your hands are too big for something so delicate.” I retorted as I tried stepping away from him but his arms wrapped around my waist like a vice grip.

“You know what they say about a guy with big hands, right?” I looked at him through the mirror in our bedroom, seeing his eyebrow arched and his lips wearing a playful smirk.

“If you’re attempting to make a joke about your dick, save me the gory details. I know your dick is big already.” I responded as he smiled.

“That’s not even where I was going with that. I just wanted to hear you call my dick big. I was just gonna make a comparison to being able to play bass.”

He held up my hand against his, “You can’t have little tiny hands like yours, but no wonder why my cock looks so huge in your hands.” I swatted his hand away from me as he laughed.

“So if I had average sized hands your cock would be small? That’s what you’re saying, right? And it’s just me that enhances the size?” I questioned as I bit on my bottom lip to down play my smile.

“Oh? You think you’re so god damn funny, huh?”

I nodded as he turned me around and forced the zipper down by gripping the sides of the dress, “Nikki! Don’t rip it, this dress was thirteen thousand dollars!!” I shouted as he turned me around again to face him.

“Oh princess, I’m gonna have so much fun with you tonight.” His voice was low as he wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up as he brought me to the bed.

*end flashback*

I cleared my throat, “It was just a one time thing. I’d find another one to wear…but yeah, that’s the dress. You look beautiful in it. You can have it.”

She smiled as Tommy stared at her, if you looked closely you’d probably even see drool at the bottom of his lip.

“Pizza?” Arianna asked, climbing onto my lap as I helped her the rest of the way.

“I’ll order some pizza, what kind? Pepperoni? Cheese?” I told her as she giggled.

“Cheese, please!”

A little while later the four of us were sitting around my dining room table as we stuffed are faces with pizza. Well the three of them did, I stuck with my hot wings and a salad. The baby weight from Arianna is slowly going away and I want to fit into my skin tight jeans again.

“Tommy, maybe Clemmy over here can show you the city while you’re around.” I suggested, my smirk matching his as Clementine scoffed.

“I have so many better things to do then cater to a rockstar. A princess is already pushing it.” Clementine joked as I rolled my eyes.

“I’m actually really fun. I would love to see some cool things. I’ve never had the time to go sight seeing while I’ve been here in the city.” Tommy explained as Clementine stared at him.

“Name a date and time, Angel.” Tommy snickered as he took a sip of his beer can.

“It’s not a date. But I can show you a few things, I charge by the hour though…” Clementine explained as Tommy’s eyes lit up and I saw him fall in love with her before my very eyes.

“It’s a date. I’ll have Van give me your number.” Tommy had a goofy, love struck smile on his lips as he watched Clementine roll her eyes and completely ignore him as she tended to wiping tomato sauce from Arianna’s face.

“Well I’m gonna go home. I’ll be by tomorrow morning with donuts like usual.” Clementine said as she grabbed her jacket and purse.

“Behave.” She told Arianna, but was looking at me too. I smiled walking her to the door.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” Clem spoke quietly as I nodded, “Yes mom, of course mom.” I rolled my eyes as I tried to hold back my laughter.

“Tommy’s absolutely harmless, I’ll be fine.”

*Later that night*

After finally getting Arianna out of the bath and to bed, I laid down on my bed as Tommy came over after putting ‘Wayne’s World’ into the VHS player. He crawled into my bed and groaned into the pillow, “Your bed is so soft.”

I chuckled as I threw some blanket over him and he got situated as he propped himself up against my headboard, “I hate this movie so much, T-bone.”

He looked down at me, “It was in your movie stack!”

“Yeah, I know that. It’s because Clementine likes this movie and she’s made me watch it with her twenty god damn times.”

Tommy reached over and handed me a bag of peach rings, “Aw, you remember!” I teased him as I opened up the candy and started eating them.

“Only cause they’re my least favorite but your all time favorite.” He mumbled as I scooted over and rested my head against his shoulder.

“Y’know I really did miss you Vanity. It’s not the same without you. I just wish you would have told me where you’d be. So I wouldn’t of had to swear on your grandmothers pearls.” He started off as I nodded.

“I know T, I know. But I just had to leave. I couldn’t be there any longer. We both know Nikki would have used every sweet and smooth word of his to get me to stay. I could hardly stand to look at him that day, he absolutely disgusted me when I found them together. For him to disrespect me like that after everything, no. I wouldn’t have stayed with him.”

“I hate Brandi a lot. She’s a bitch.” Tommy said as he snacked on his red licorice.

“Oh, I thought she was such a sweet girl.” I rolled my eyes as Tommy laughed at my words. I fumbled with my fingers, feeling an uncomfortable itch in the back of my throat.

“She’s also spending his money and redecorating the house. Giant crystal chandeliers, white marble. It’s way too fancy and it’s, it’s not Nikki.”

I frowned. I loved that house so much, it was absolutely perfect the way it was.

“That bitch is a little coke whore too….” My lips parted in shock as those words left his mouth.

“He’s…Nikki’s still sober right?” I questioned, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I sat up in bed, Tommy followed after me as he saw the expression on my face.

“I mean, he’s not doing heroin...” I frowned at his words, “When they first got together, he did slip and started doing some coke with her but he stopped immediately and started going to meetings religiously.”

I stared off into space as I listened to Tommy. He wasn’t sober anymore? He was so proud of it and of himself for sticking with the whole staying clean thing. He’d come home with a new chip: six months, nine months and then a year of being sober. He would be over the moon.

“Oh…well, not my problem.” I spoke as T-bone looked at me, confused.

His lips parted in shock as he studied me, “…Really feel that way? You don’t love him anymore?”

I shrugged, “Tommy…I don’t want to talk about it.”

He paused the movie and took away my candy, I started to pout, “No, let’s talk about it. You don’t have any more feelings for Nikki?” He questioned as I sighed.

I ran my nails through my hair as I laid back onto my pillows, “I…I’m always going to love Nikki and he’s always going to have a space in my heart but I don’t think I’m in love with him anymore. He really hurt me this time Tommy. That’s what sucks about this. I thought him getting sober we would finally be okay and that we could be together without it going to complete shit, but I was wrong. He broke my heart, T-bone.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, feeling big brown eyes staring at me, “And look how fast it took him to just start dating her, like was he cheating on me prior to me finding out?” I asked Tommy as he shook his head.

“No, no. Anytime he went out with us and you didn’t come he wouldn’t even look at another chick. He barely wanted lap dances from the strippers, he just wanted to get back home to you. If he was, he hid it pretty fucking well. But I don’t think he was. I think it’s just the universe fucking something wonderful up.”

I smiled a bit as I closed my eyes and listen to the sound of the cars from the street below and Tommy’s light breathing, “Well, I guess in this universe Nikki Sixx and I don’t end up together. Maybe the next one everything will be fine. Maybe I’ll be the rockstar.” I giggled as I opened my eyes and looked at Tommy.

“You’d make a smokin hot rockstar. I’d have your posters everywhere, and maybe they’d be a little sticky.” Tommy made me laugh as I smacked his chest.

“T-bone! That’s so gross!” I laughed as I felt my face turn red in embarrassment.

“Oh please Vanity, I’ve heard things from a drunk or high Nikki of what you’ve done in the bedroom. Don’t forget I even experienced a tase of it.” Tommy reminded me as I rolled my eyes.

I stared at him smiling, “What?” He chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Happy you’re here. Haven’t been this happy in a while.” I mumbled as I reached over and squeezed his hand. He returned my affection by gently running his thumb across my skin. I sighed as he laid down next to me and wrapped his arms around me, holding me against his chest.

“Happy that a boy is in your bed? Or happy someone familiar is around?” He questioned as his surprisingly soft hands ran over the exposed part of my back.

I thought about it, “Maybe just having a piece of home. Will you come see me often?” I questioned, tilting my head up to look at him.

“I’ll try my best. I’m sure Nikki will get suspicious of me constantly coming here though.” He pointed out as I nodded.

It was quiet for a few minutes until I felt vibrating, “Uh…I think you forgot to put your vibrator away.” I chuckled, moving away from him as he dug into his jean pockets.

He laughed, “Speak of the devil…” he said, holding up his Nokia flip phone, “Hey Sixx, what’s up?”

My eyes widened as I sat up and stared at him, “Oh yeah dude!! I’m in New York! Oh…uh I dunno I just wanted a little vacation I’ll be back in a few days.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry Mr. Sixx that I didn’t tell you where I’d be, you gonna punish me?” I could tell by the way Tommy pulled the phone away from his ear Nikki was probably cussing him out.

“Okay, okay I’ll do it hey…turn on MTV real quick.” Tommy nudged me.

“Oh do I have a girl with me?” I turned around as I got off the bed and glared at him, “Yeah dude, she’s pretty hot. Long brown hair, tan skin. She has a really nice ass too.”

I smacked him upside the head with a pillow as I came back to the bed with the remote, “She’s a little frisky too.” Tommy snickered as I turned the TV to MTV:

‘With the start of their relationship not being the best, Nikki Sixx is off to the altar as him and his year long girlfriend Brandi Brandt have announced they are engaged.’

“What the fuck!!!!” Tommy yelled as I stared at the screen, seeing a picture of them together on the TV.

“You’re gonna fucking marry that broad?! Nikki! What the fuck?!” Tommy continued to yell as I quickly but quietly hushed him and mouthed Arianna.

”Nikki, you don’t fucking love her, you barely even know her!! How can you be so stupid!?” T-bone now yelled at a lower tone.

“Dude, what the fuck ever. Yeah sure I’m happy for you man, congratulations to you and your bitch.” Tommy snapped as he flipped his phone shut.

“It’s okay…” I said quietly as Tommy looked at me like I had grown three heads, “If he’s happy with her, then let him. He deserves to be happy too.” I muttered as I wiped my eyes, wiping away the tears that were starting to come.

“Vanity…” Tommy said, inching closer to me but I put my hand out to stop him. I put my hand over my mouth, to keep my sobs in as I screwed my eyes shut.

I shook my head, exhaling through my mouth, “He needs to be happy.” I forced myself to say it again even if it was a stabbing pain in my chest to see he would be marrying someone that wasn’t me.

“And so do you, you deserve to be happy as well.” He whispered as I nodded.

“I’m fine. I’m good.” I wiped my face and smiled at him but he shook his head and kissed my cheek, his loose strands tickling my skin.

“Tommy?”

“Yes, princess?” He questioned, his face a few inches from mine.

I exhaled deeply, “I know you don’t love me, but can you love me tonight at least?” I asked him as he pressed his hand to the side of my cheek and brushed away tears his best friend had caused.

He moved closer to me, laying me down on the bed as he hovered over me. I’m glad I didn’t have to go into details of what I meant. He sat back on his knees as he pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the corner of my room. He came back to me, gently cupping my jaw with both hands as he placed a soft and warm kiss upon on my lips.

“Anything for you, doll.”

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haileybeehappy · 5 years

Text

Shawn Mendes - Sweet

warnings. none really. fluff I guess? oh stalking.

word count. 1.6k

summary. You and shawn are close friends and you are kinda new in the music business.

HOLY FUCK HES HOT

anyways. enjoy.

You had been in the music business for a couple years. You just dropped your second album and were getting to do a small promo tour thing. You're doing some shows in California, Texas, Florida and New York. Spending a few days in each state doing a few shows and interviews.

One of your free days in New York was the same day as Shawn's concert. He was one of your close friends. You met at a big after party for some award show. You weren't nominated for anything but you did perform. Since then you two were best friends…. with benefits. When your paths crossed and the time was right the two of you would interact.

So now you were backstage at his show standing next the famous Camila Cabello. The show had just ended and shawn was wandering around the tunnels of backstage still on his performance high. When Shawn came into view Camila basically attacked him. She jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

He loved on her for a while and when they separated and he saw you he immediate ran to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"What in the world are you doing here?" You had your arms gripped on his neck. With how little time you two spend together when you do get together you never let go it seems like.

"I had some free time between performances and interviews so I decided to come see my best friend give the concert of a lifetime," you smile. He nods and grabs your hand.

"I'm so glad you did. I wish you had told me, I would have made you come out there and sing with me," He laughed. You shook your head.

"No way, I'm way too tired. The traveling is really taking it out of me," Shawn, you and most of his team had made it out behind the building heading towards the cars taking them to the hotel. You Shawn and Camila piled into one of the SUV's.

"Maybe you're just not made for the road," Camilla says. It offends you slightly but you brush it off.

"You know that's not it Mila. Everyone had trouble their first time on the road. Hell I have trouble everytime I head out. It's only expected. Are you saying I'm not made for the road? Or you? Because if I remember right you had a really rough time your first tour?" She just kind of rolls her eyes and huffs.

"Whatever. I guess," Camilla stares out the window as the car travels the 45 minute ride to the hotel. An hour with the traffic. While you and Shawn caught up on each others lives.

"So I had to fucking eat cows tounge. COWS TOUNGE!" you groan. He just throws his head back and laughs. clapping his hands together lightly.

"Oh that's amazing, was it chewy?" He asks just to get on your nerves.

"Yes! I hate him. So much. He knew I would never answer that question. Like FUCK YOU JAMES!" You scream into the ceiling.

"You poor thing. You could have answered the question,"

"Yeah, and have Andrew and your fangirls kill me? No thank you," you sigh. You now have your head rested on his shoulder. The time had come that you get out of the car. The hotel was surrounded by fans. The three of you exited the vehicle and made your way inside the building. Shawn stopping every few feet to grab something from a fan or take a picture.

"Y/N!" you turn to where your name was screamed. The voice sounding very familiar. You turn and see your 'biggest fan' it was a guy who had been stalking you since you made it big. You grabbed onto Shawn's arm and clung to him.

"What's up sweet?" You nudged your head in his direction. He looked up and made eye contact him. hr wrapped his arm around you, grabbed Camila's hand and pulled the two of you into the building. Be pointed the man out to security. You were a little shaken up because he followed you all the way from L.A. "You okay?" He had his hands on your shoulders. Rubbing your arms from shoulder to elbow. You shake your head.

"He followed me from California. If hes willing to go that far what else is he gonna do?" He pulled you to his chest. You really don't know how to react. He stood there and held you while his management team dealt with a situation with the rooms. The three of you made your way to the elevator. Shawn and Camila were talking but he didn't move his eyes from you.

on the thirteenth floor you stepped out of the elevator and made your way to your room. 14, 15, and 16 were your room numbers. Shawn got 16 because it was a suite. Camila was next to him in 15 and you lastly in 14.

You settled into your room, the bed feels too big. The sheets feel cold and the blanket isn't enough. You can't seem to sleep. Worries running through your mind. You end up slipping out of bed and making a cup of the 'complimentary' tea they had set out on a tray along with coffee and cocoa. The tea was okay. You've had better but you've also had worse.

After two cups and a hour and a half of tv you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed your phone, key and the fresh cup of tea you just made and headed to Shawn's room. You knock on his door and wait a minute till you knock again. He opened the door wrapped in the silk robe you got him for his birthday last year.

"Y/N? what's up?"

"Can't sleep, a lot on my mind," He runs his hand through his hair. He moves out of the way so you can make your way into his room. His room is twice as large as yours and has a living room and an attached bedroom, along with a small minibar with a real coffee pot. "oh wow,"

"Come sit," he motions you over to the couch. you sit on the opposite end of the long sofa. He rolls his eyes and moves over to you. He takes the mug from your hands, sets it on the end table and pulls you too him. You're tucked into his side with his arms wrapped around you. You just start to sob into his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Talk to me sweet," You just shake your head and continue to cry into him. You don't know what happened but you ended up in his lap. You were no longer crying but catching your breath with your head buried in his neck. "Do you want to talk about it now princess?" You nod.

You go to move to get off his lap and he hold you there by your hips. He pulls you closer to him and rests his chin between your breasts. "Talk Princess,"

"I've just been so overwhelmed with everything and I think I jumped in to quickly. I feel like I'm drowning. I want to go home and just be alone," Your voice was growing shakey. "I miss my family. I miss my dog," You shake your head and force a little laugh. "I've missed you too," you look at him in the eye.

The two of you were now eye level to each other. You ran your hand through his curls and lightly grasped the hairs near his neck. Twisting the small curls around your fingers.

"And seeing that guy, just kind broke me. Maybe Camila is right. Maybe I'm not cut out for this," You huff and rest your forehead on his.

"No. don't you do there princess. You are absolutely fucking amazing. And Camila couldn't be more wrong. Fuck what she said. You are made for this. Have you seen you perform? You're like a goddess when you hit the stage. You give every show everything you have and more," a smile worked its way onto your face. "But I don't blame you I feel the same way sometimes. All of us do," You just nod.

You let out a yawn and you can feel your body relax. Your eyelids become heavy in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you so much Shawn. You're the best," you nuzzle yourself into his neck and hold him.

"Always my sweet. Now let's get you to bed huh?" You nod.

"Yeah. I should head back to my room," before you even move his arms clasped around your waist and you couldn't escape if you wanted to.

"No way my sweet. You're in my bed tonight," he then proceeds to carry you to his bed and plop you down on the mattress. You squeal and move to the head of the bed. You slip off your socks and get comfortable under the covers while shawn runs to the bathroom. When he comes back you're already fast asleep and snoring.

He shakes his head and gets under the soft blue blanket with you. He pulls your smaller frame to his and nestles into your hair. You turn your body to face him and in a faze of sleep you bring his lips to yours and mumble a goodnight. He smiles into the kiss and pulls you in for a deeper one.

"Not tonight Mendes," you throw one arm around his waist and continue. "Wake me up in the morning and we can have some fun," you smirk. he just laughs and pulls you in tighter.

"Okay my sweet,"

thank you for reading! it would mean a lot if you could like and reblog. loves and kisses. hails

#shawnmendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes hotf #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #cant think of anymore tags #hotfwritings #hotfwriting #hotf shawn mendes

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: XY goes to patch things up, but he needs some advice first.

Word Count: 3401 | Chapter 4/5

Notes: Sorry the chapter count keeps getting longer. I decided to add an epilogue, but this is the last main chapter. For @luxyweek day 6, Serenade

XXX

Luka flopped back in his bed. Had he been too harsh on XY back at the hotel? It wasn’t like XY had stood him up. He’d never promised to come back to the Liberty.

But questions kept repeating like an irritatingly catchy melody. XY had always wanted to spend time with him before, even if it was just to annoy him. What changed? Had they gotten too close at Nino’s house that night? Had their accidental cuddling scared him off?

Maybe he really just read too much into things. It wasn’t like Luka had much experience understanding people, even with his guitar. Maybe XY didn’t have any music in heart. Luka could’ve just been seeing what he wanted to see.

He wanted to see good in XY. The only one he had to blame was himself, for believing the other boy might have actually cared about him.

I’m just a sucker for blue eyes, he thought, his fingers plucking a melancholy melody.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t have XY’s number—foolishly, he’d only given the other boy his own—and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself by going back to the hotel again.

For the first time in months, the music in his heart fell silent.

XXX

“Martini! Marmalade! Marinade! Mar—whatever your name is! Help a homie out, please!” XY called up at the bakery’s balcony. He was going out on a limb here, but for whatever reason, Luka had been obsessed with the younger girl. Maybe she could help him patch things back up.

“You’re not my homie, XY!” She leaned over the railing and shouted back down at the street. “And it’s midnight! What the heck are you doing here?”

“I need your help!” he said. Admitting it made him feel stupid, but what was he supposed to do? Show up to Luka’s boat empty handed? No, XY had promised he’d make the most cash money music ever, impress Luka so hard that he fell head over heels, and then whisk him off into the sunset.

But step one: make the music. His first song had been a bust, and Luka would know if XY ripped something off. He’d probably expect it. So XY had his smaller synth packed up in a bag over his back, ready to take some more inspiration from Marmalade as soon as he could.

“Go away!” she called.

“You can’t tell me what to—! Uh, I mean—please, it’s important!”

She sighed so loudly he could hear it from the ground. Then she stomped back inside.

His shoulders fell. Of course she wouldn’t help him after he’d stolen her designs, poked through her room, and forgotten her name. He turned to trudge back to the hotel, his backpack feeling heavier than ever.

The click of a door opening stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh—oh! You—you’re gonna help me?”

“That depends”—Martini crossed her arms—“on what exactly you want help with.”

“Perspiration,” he answered quickly, and she glared. Oops. Was that the wrong word again?

“Is this some kind of prank? What, was ghosting Luka not enough for you?”

XY’s jaw dropped. “Ghosting—I did not ghost him!”

“Then why did Juleka tell me he’s been sulking for the last week? She says he won’t quit playing sad songs. And Wonderwall, for some reason. Anyway, she thinks it’s your fault, and even if I’m not in love with Luka, I am his friend. And you hurt him.”

She jabbed a finger at his chest, hitting his “XY” necklace. The chain clinked hollowly.

“I… he missed me? Really?” He’d joked with Luka about that when he came to the hotel today, but he didn’t think he meant it.

“I don’t know. It sounds like it.” She shook her head, her pigtails swishing around her neck. “I don’t know why, though. Anyway, what do you want? I was waiting on someone—er, I’m supposed to be in bed soon.”

“Ooooh, a late-night date?”

“XY.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He grimaced. Better not get even more on her bad side when he needed something from her. “Okay, here’s the deal. I told Lu I was gonna make him the most cash money music he’s ever heard. But… I suck.”

He sighed. There it was.

“I know he likes you,” he continued, “so I thought maybe you could give me some tips? Tell me what kind of vibes he’ll vibe with, that kind of stuff.”

Marinade blinked at him. “You’re…. trying to make Luka a song?”

“Yeah. I wasted a whole week on a track Dad said was trash, and now Lu’s mad and I don’t have anything to show for it.” His shoulders slumped.

“Wait, so you already made a song? That’s why you weren’t talking to Luka last week?”

“Duh. I couldn’t spoil the surprise. Not that it matters. Like I said, it’s garbage. Unsexy. Not vibin’ at all.”

“...Because your dad said so?” Her head tilted. Her voice was soft and gentle. That was probably one of the things Luka liked about her. It sounded nothing like XY’s own nasally voice. Maybe if he autotuned his vocals more…

“He knows what good music sounds like. That’s how he ended up with the number one and number two stars on his label.” Was XY back at number one again yet? After the Kiddy Session mess, he was probably down on sales. Stupid old Jacked Tone.

“Uh-huh. That’s how he ended up asking me to make Jagged’s album cover look like yours, and having you butcher Kitty Section’s style.”

“I didn’t butcher it.” Sure, it wasn’t his best rip-off job, but he’d only had a few days to pull it off. Dad had liked it more than his original song anyway.

“The point is, I don’t think your dad knows as much as he thinks he does.” Marmalade put a hand on his shoulder. “He might know what’s popular, but he doesn’t know how to match an artist with their own style. Jagged Stone is a rocker. I’m a designer. And you… what’s your style, XY? If you could do anything you wanted?”

He shrugged. “More of the same, I guess. The stuff my algorithm spits out. I mean, it sells, right?”

“Forget about that for a minute. What do you like to listen to?”

What did he like? Well…

“I do love some sick beats. And…” He looked away, a little embarrassed. “I did like the first song I made for Lu. But Dad said it’s garbage—”

“Your dad is the one who’s garbage,” Marinade growled, her fists clenching. “I think you could use a second opinion. Can I hear your song?”

His first instinct was to say no. Hadn’t he embarrassed himself enough? But it wasn’t like he really cared what she thought. She couldn’t insult him much worse than she already had.

“I guess.” He pulled out his phone and AirPods. It wouldn’t have the same effect as fancy headphones or Nino’s speakers, but then she could at least tell him it sucked and move on to giving him some real advice.

She stuck the AirPods in, and he hit play.

Surprise slammed over her face. She must be shocked that a number one (or number two, now) pop star would come up with something so stupid. Using her sewing machine noises? That pigeon man’s bird call? Really? No stars did that! He should’ve just stuck to the basic four chords, and left out lyrics like he usually did, and—

Oh no. The lyrics.

“Please don't tell Lu what I said,” he begged, hands clasped together over his phone.

She didn’t seem to be listening to him, though. She was—oh crap, she was tearing up. His song was so bad he’d made her cry!

He fumbled to hit pause, but Marinade’s hand closed over the screen first.

“You wrote this? For Luka?”

“He’s gonna hate it.” XY groaned. “I lied to him and made him hate me and I can’t even make one stupid song—”

“No, no, he’s not going to hate you! XY—you really like him, don’t you?”

“Pshaw, no.” He crossed his arms and turned up his nose. “Crushing on hot rockers is so ten minutes ago.”

Marinade blinked, then laughed. Of course she’d just make fun of him again. “If you say so. But if you change your mind, I think it would be worth telling him.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled halfheartedly. He’d probably ruined that chance today by lying to him. If he’d even had a chance in the first place.

“I’m serious! I can tell you put your heart into this song. Luka will see it, too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You just wanna watch me crash and burn, don’t you?”

She shook her head, laughing again. Pretty shady, if you asked him. He should’ve asked Nino for help instead, but Marinade was the one Luka had liked.

“I don’t even know for sure if he likes dudes,” XY muttered, the toe of his sneaker scuffing the street.

“Don’t worry, he’s bi. I wouldn’t encourage you if you didn’t have a chance.”

His heart started doing the macarena. It was enough to get his hopes up again—except, he still only had the one garbage song.

“I need a new track. Something super sexy that’ll blow his boat out of the water!” He paced as he talked, hands flying through the air like over an invisible synth. “But ugh, I don’t have time! Lu already thinks I hate him ’cause I stopped coming over, but I can’t spoil the surprise. That wouldn’t be cash money at all.”

“XY, you don’t need to write a whole new song. I think yours is great just the way it is.”

His head snapped up, his hair bouncing from the force. “Wait, you do?”

“Uh-huh. Besides, if you keep waiting for the perfect moment, it’ll never come. Trust me.” She smiled sadly. “You’re better off being honest with your feelings if you can.”

His mouth opened, but before he could find any words, a crash rang out from the balcony above. He was pretty sure he heard a faint “owwww.”

Marinette glanced up and winced. “Well, would you look at the time! Thanks for stopping by good luck see ya!”

She darted back inside, leaving XY alone with the faint breeze trying to fight his hairspray.

“Huh. Guess it was a date after all.”

If he pulled this off, maybe he’d have a date by the end of the night, too.

XXX

THWUMP.

Luka bolted upright, instinctively reaching for the neck of his guitar before feeling silly. What was he going to do, beat off a burglar with his instrument? He’d probably just break it, which would be even worse than getting robbed.

“Lu!” A muffled voice shouted.

Oh no. Not a burglar. Luka knew who was going to be smushed against the window before he climbed out of bed and turned around. His heartsong sped up against his will.

He hadn’t been prepared to see XY so soon after their fight at his hotel room. Frankly, he hadn’t expected to see him at all. His hair was a mess, several clumps falling out of their meticulously-styled quiff. And he was still wearing Luka’s hoodie.

“Yo, don’t just stand there! Help a dude out!”

Luka was so startled that he didn’t even argue, just scrambled up the steps to the deck, his footfalls thump thump thumping in time with his heart’s pounding rhythm.

He came back. Why did he come back?

XY yelped as Luka hauled him onto the deck. Déjà vu pricked at him, but this time instead of sneering in disgust, XY fiddled with his backpack strap nervously.

“What are you doing here?” Luka asked, since XY was being surprisingly quiet. He didn’t bother tacking on the obvious “it’s almost one a.m.” since XY had already proven he had no concept of time.

“Uh… I’m here ‘cause… I wasn’t very cash money to you today.”

He frowned. “Yesterday, technically.”

“Whatever. Point is, I’m… sorry I lied to you.”

XY seemed to deflate, as if all his usual hot air finally left him. Maybe it was a side effect of his tousled hair making him look smaller, but in that moment he looked nothing like his usual sauntering self.

“It’s fine,” Luka mumbled. “It’s not like you promised to make your own music. I don’t know why I expected you to.”

“Huh? No, Lu—I did make my own music. That’s what I lied about. ’Cause Dad said it was trash and I was… I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, y’know? I wasn’t even going to tell you, but Marinade gave me some advice, and… whatever.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. “Just—let me play you this track, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Luka blinked, trying to follow XY’s rapid-fire words. He didn’t have much time to process, though, before XY pulled his synth out of his backpack and unfolded it. How did that clunky thing fit in there?

Then XY flipped a switch and pressed down on the keys, and music exploded from the Liberty. Had he—had he hacked the boat’s sound system?

“What did you do to my boat!” he shouted over the electronic sounds, but XY didn’t seem to hear. He was too focused on hitting the keys of his synth and belting out the first verse.

“You’ve got my heart flyin’ higher than a pigeon

Take me out we’ll go out to a kitchen

Stitch stitch stitch my heart is tickin’

Sit by me bro, come on and listen.”

Was that—? It was. Mr. Ramier’s bird call backed the track, somehow programmed into the synth. He was pretty sure that whirring noise was meant to emulate a sewing machine, too, which would explain the stitch stitch stitch. The noises should’ve felt jarring, but they blended strangely well with the upbeat melody.

And XY’s singing voice… Luka had never heard it un-autotuned. It didn’t sound anything like he expected. The nasal tone was still there, but it was clearer somehow. Like his heart and his words finally aligned.

“Woah, woah, you’re slick as a viper

Woah, woah, I start to perspire

Yo, you can call me a liar

But oh, oh, he’s got me inspired!”

He hit a high note that resonated in Luka’s bones. And those lyrics… did Luka hear them right? He was pretty sure he’d used “perspire” and “inspire” correctly, which was almost as shocking as the fact that he’d written an original song at all.

“Traffic cross the street, touch my hand,

Lost in your eyes, can’t see land

Take my breath away when you hold my face

Chords takin’ me higher than outer space!”

The bass dropped with that last line before the chorus repeated. XY’s energy ran through him; he could feel the yearning in his voice.

This was it. His heartsong. And, if it wasn’t just Luka’s hopeful imagination...

“Head on your chest, oh this is real

Cash money can’t buy the way I feel

Hope your hoodie’s not the only thing I steal

Wanna wake up staring into eyes so teal.”

XY looked up, meeting Luka’s wide-eyed gaze with a longing one of his own. His fingers stumbled over the synth’s keys, but he coughed and finished the last chorus, his voice shaking only slightly.

“Woah, woah, you’re slick as a viper

Woah, woah, I start to perspire

Yo, You can call me a liar

But oh, oh, he’s got me inspired!

“Oh, oh, I’m walking a wire,

Oh, oh, you’ve set me on fire,

Yo, you can call me a liar,

But oh, OH, you’ve got me inspired!”

Oh… oh. Luka’s heart stuttered as XY panted, hitting one last loud chord. It echoed off into the night’s silence. Luka was sure XY would hear his heart pounding now.

“So, what do you think? Pretty cash money or what?” His grin stretched too wide.

Luka swallowed, trying not to show just how much the unorthodox music affected him. “You finally learned what inspiration means.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I did.” He chuckled. “Does that mean you liked it?”

He tried to sound casual, but Luka still felt the trace of longing from him. Maybe even desperation. He’d bared his heartsong. No matter how nervous Luka might be to admit it, he had to be honest in return.

“Dude, that was amazing,” he said, stepping around the synth to rest a hand on XY’s shoulder. “Synths might not normally be my style, but I felt it. You were in the moment, putting your whole soul into it. What changed?”

“Huh?” He blinked, blue eyes wide. It was hard to resist the urge to sweep his loose strands of hair back under his headband.

“I mean, why didn’t you make music like this before? You couldn’t have learned how to do this all in a week. You never gave me a real answer before.” Luka had a guess, but even after the lyrics he’d heard, he didn’t want to assume too much. He made that mistake with Marinette already, and this time…

He didn’t want to lose XY again. He’d gotten used to his annoying presence. That was all.

(The beats hopping in his heart quickly battered down that denial.)

“Bro, really? Weren’t you listening?” XY frowned, almost looking hurt. “And people say I’m stupid.”

“Hey.”

XY there his hands in the air. “It’s you, bruh. You’re the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I’m singing—”

“Wait, isn’t that the Camp Rock song?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to make a meaningful love confession!”

Luka choked, his face flushing. “Love confession? You’re—you’re serious.”

XY stared at him like he was stupid. “What, you think I’d waste my time writing a whole song for just anyone?”

“No, I just…” He had thought XY was joking, or just messing with him. But it had been real. Luka hadn’t read too much into things after all. “I don’t know about love, but I—I can’t believe I’m saying this—I… might have a crush on you, XY.”

The other boy beamed, and Luka regretfully admitted it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Bro, I’ll take it!” XY threw his arms around his neck, and suddenly Luka had an armful of him. He smelled like hairspray and Doritos, and under that, something more subtle and hard to place.

Luka had the feeling he could get used to it.

XY suddenly pulled back, staring into Luka’s eyes again, but leaving his arms around his neck. “Wait, does this mean you’ll be my boyfriend? Do I get to kiss you? ’Cause I gotta admit you look like you could use some chapstick first—”

Luka pressed his lips to XY’s half to prove a point, half to shut him up, and half because he just wanted to. At the moment, his brain didn’t care that the math didn’t add up.

A quiet squeal startled him into pulling back. At first he thought it was XY’s, but he just looked stunned, his eyes half-lidded and a dumbstruck grin on his face.

“I’m gonna swoon now,” he said before swaying over.

Luka barely managed to catch him around his waist before he hit the deck. But if it wasn’t XY squealing, then—

“Rose!” He hissed, catching a flash of blonde hair ducking behind the speaker. Juleka blended in better with the dark, but the faint glow from her phone screen gave her away. “Jules! Are you—wait, are you recording us?”

Rose poked her head out, her fists balled up beside her cheeks. “We couldn’t help it! You two were just so cute!”

“I thought you’d want this for your wedding,” Juleka mumbled through a smirk.

XY sighed dreamily at that. “What do you think our wedding colors would be, Lu? Teal and purple?”

“I swear, if you don’t shut up I’ll drop you.”

“Aww, you just want me to fall for you agai—ACK!” XY thudded to the ground. “Ow… that wasn’t very cash money of you, babe.”

That was where Juleka’s video ended.

But for the new music playing in Luka’s heart, it was just the beginning.

#tali writes #luxy #luka #xy #fic tag #luxyweek2k20

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boymeetsweevil · 5 years

Text

Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on.

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore.

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke

#bscproject #bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #95line.net #kimtaehyung.net #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic

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cashmeremars · 5 years

Text

Drunk At A Party (Headcanon) || s.m

pairing: shawn mendes x reader

requested: Since that happens to me last night could you make one where the reader is out with shawn and his friends drinking and stuff and she had a bit too much and ends up throwing up. Shawn makes fun of her recording one snapchat but also cares about her cleaning her up and fluff????💕

word count: 1.5k+

warnings: getting drunk, shawn making fun of you, puke, alcohol, embarrassment

a/n: this was requested like 2 years ago yikes

***

So Shawn got invited to one of his friend’s house parties and thought it would be a great idea to invite you (mostly because you got pretty wild when you were drunk)

Now you’re usually a person that can hold their liquor

But you really just wanted to let yourself go tonight

Life had been stressing you out and you really just wanted to be carefree for a night

And that’s exactly what you did

But you may have underestimated how much fun you were willing to have

3 hours into the party and you were singing your heart out on a table near the dance floor

Not even dancing, just yelling the lyrics out really loudly (and very embarrassingly)

However, Shawn wasn’t completely mad at you because he thought you were pretty entertaining while drunk

It also meant he could add more videos to his album of embarrassing videos and pictures of you

It was also good black mail material to use the next time he wanted the last donut and you wouldn’t give it to him

So while you’re singing your life away like a clown on a table, Shawn is right beside you, filming you while laughing his ass off

He thinks you’re spectacular when you’re drunk so he always follows you around

Also to make sure that you’re safe but he won’t tell you that when he makes fun of you the next morning

After nearly falling off the table after trying to crowd surf, Shawn managed to take you out to the secluded balcony so you could calm down

“Here, babe. We can just stay out here for now”

“Babe? So charming” you spoke while hitting his arm slightly

“Thank you.” He spoke with a chuckle, “You’re also pretty charming, just not in this particular moment”

You snorted before slurring “My boyfriend says that to me a lot”

“I am your boyfriend” Shawn laughs, before giving you a slight pat on the head

“You’re my boyfriend? Really? But you’re too pretty to be MY boyfriend” you spoke in shock

“How?” Shawn laughed, although he was genuinely interested this time despite you being a blubbering mess

“Your hair looks perfect all the time, your teeth are as white as like” you took a pause here, trying to find the right words “ the moon or something, and you’re really tall too”

At this point Shawn’s just admiring how cute you are while pointing out his features before he realizes that you’re done talking

“What does that have to do with me not being your boyfriend?”

“I’m too ugly to have a perfect boyfriend” you say on the verge of tears

Shawn knew that you had pretty wild mood swings while you were drunk so he’d become accustomed to learning how to adapt to your moods quickly

“No no no no no. Don’t say that, baby”

“But it’s true” you say as a stray tear rolls down your cheek

Shawn wipes your tears before pulling you into his arms

“You are not ugly. Not even close. You are beautiful, kind, and also pretty funny sometimes. Don’t ever doubt yourself or our relationship. Okay?” Shawn spoke before landing a soft kiss on your forehead

“Okay” You replied as you snuggled yourself closer into him

“You smell kinda weird” you whispered with a giggle

“That’s because I’ve been surrounded by sweaty bodies for 3 hours. Still not as bad as your breath”

“My breath isn’t that bad” you said before giggling and breathing in shawn’s face

Shawn cringed as the smell of your breath fanned his nose, “It smells like alcohol, which isn’t a nice scent”

“Then we can both stink together” you laughed while looking into his eyes

You looked at him for a while. The moon illuminating his features had made him look more ethereal than usual

“If you’re really my boyfriend, why can’t I remember your name?” you asked before Shawn looked down at you and chuckled at your cluelessness

“Not sure, love. But one thing I’m sure of, is that you are my girlfriend and this is going to be a great story to tell in the future” Shawn spoke as he took your hands in his

“Maybe I should just call you Prince Charming, because you look charming, and you’re like a prince” you hiccuped

“Great explanation. I would’ve never guessed that” shawn replied smugly

He loved to tease you like that when you weren’t drunk because you couldn’t pick up on it. Which meant you couldn’t get mad at him about it

“Mr. Charming, may I please have this dance” you said as you stood clumsily and offered your hand

“Here? On the balcony” Shawn asked as his eyebrows rose

“I think that’s what I said” You said, offering your hand once again

“There’s no music playing out here” Shawn replied

“Doesn’t matter. We’re dancing anyways”

Shawn grabbed your hand as he stood and pulled you into his chest. As you got comfortable, you both started to sway slowly

“I can’t believe we’re slow dancing on a balcony while you’re drunk”

“I can’t believe you’re actually my boyfriend” you whispered as you closed your eyes and lay your head on his chest

“You’re still on that?”

“Of course. You’re just so perfect.” you sighed before speaking “I hope you’ll be my boyfriend for the rest of my life”

“That’s called a husband, and I’ll definitely be that for you” Shawn whispered to himself

“Huh?” you asked as you peered up to look at him

“Nothing.” Shawn smiled to himself, “I just love you a lot” Shawn spoke before leaning down and kissing your forehead

You gagged

Like actually gagged

And Shawn was kinda offended by that

He was like “Damn. Was it that cheesy?”

And you hesitated before saying, “I think.. I’m gonna puke” before running back into the house and finding the nearest bathroom

Shawn followed you (because that's what good boyfriends do)

Shawn held your hair back while you puked, even though he hated the smell of puke

And just puke in general

It made him queasy but he did it for you

Once you were done, you were just sat in front of the toilet, your hair was disheveled, you smelt weird, your mascara was running, you looked like death

And Shawn thought it was hilarious

So there he was in the corner of the bathroom, recording you on his phone while making fun of you

Obviously you were annoyed, but you were too tired to do anything about it so you just glared and told him to shut the hell up

Once Shawn finally turned off his camera, he grabbed your arm gently and started trying to clean you up

He used paper towels to wipe your mascara, tried to pat your hair down, and gave you some gum because your breath smelled worse than before

He then started leading you out of the house towards the car

While driving home, you passed out in the passenger seat

Shawn would look over at you at a red light and laugh to himself because you still looked kinda ridiculous

Your head was rested on the window, you had drool all over your chin, you were snoring, the piece of gum you were chewing was slowly making its way out of your mouth, and your hair was still a mess

It was honestly kind of disgusting but Shawn thought it was cute

When Shawn parked in the parking lot, he took one more photo of you before waking you up

You made your way up the stairs and sat alone on the bed as Shawn went to go find things to clean you up with

He came back with makeup wipes, water, and fresh pyjamas

Shawn wiped all the makeup off your face before handing you your glass of water

He sat on the floor in front of you as he watched you intently

“It’s rude to stare, you know” You spoke after drinking your water

“Yeah, but you look cute this way. Well, not cute cute. But cute in an awkward sort of way. It’s charming” Shawn explained as he made his way to sit next to you on the bed

“I’m tired” You spoke following a yawn

“I know” Shawn replied softly. He turned you to face him and his hand made its way to your cheek as he softly caressed it. You leaned into his touch before sighing and closing your eyes

“Let’s get you in these pyjamas and then you can go to bed” Shawn spoke before handing you your pyjamas

You got into them without much of a fuss and slipped under the covers next to Shawn

You cuddled up next to Shawn and sighed as you embraced his warmth. Shawn wrapped his arm around you and leaned his head into yours

“Shawn” you spoke quietly

“Hm?” Shawn replied with his eyes closed

“Your name is Shawn” you whispered again

Shawn laughed quietly as he looked down at you “It only took you the whole night to remember”

“I’m never getting drunk again” you replied with a slight chuckle

“Good idea” Shawn spoke as he laughed along with you

“Goodnight, Shawn, and thanks for taking care of me, my Prince Charming” you spoke as you tilted your head up towards his

He looked at you softly before averting his gaze to your lips

He landed a soft kiss to your lips before whispering a soft “Goodnight”

***

masterlist

a/n: i’ve literally never drank before but my will to finish this was stronger than logical reasoning

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes headcanon #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes angst

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fooled-around-and-fell · 5 years

Text

Always on My Mind

Summary: Jake was now a famous singer/song writer. One day, he decided to take an old route home and found himself fixing his past.

Genre: angst, romance

Pairing: Jake Gyllenhaal x female reader

Warnings: Abusive relationship, suicide attempt, swearing

a/n: I’m quoting Bruno Major’s song here to take in as Jake’s song. Just letting y’all know :) Also, this is written mostly on Jake’s point of view. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Jake still couldn’t believe what’s happening in his life. After years of struggling and having only a few bucks in his pocket, he finally made it. He released his song online a year ago and it went viral.

It’s been a little more than year now, and Jake couldn’t be happier. He had just finished a recording session for his next album which he also wrote himself, and now he’s heading off to a TV show. The Tonight Show, to be exact.

“And now, please welcome our very first guest. He’s a newfound musician and it’s his first time here, please welcome, Jake Gyllenhaal!”

Jake stepped out to the stage with a huge grin on his face. He gave Jimmy Fallon, the host a hug before sitting down on the couch.

“Thank you, thank you.” Jake smiled, “Thanks for having me.”

“So, Jake, it’s your first time here, man.” Jimmy said.

Jake chuckled, “yeah, it is. I have to say, you have the loveliest audience.”

The crowd cheered. Jimmy then pulled up something under his desk and showed it to everyone, “so this is your album. All of the songs are written and produced by you, correct?”

“Well not all of them, the lyrics and basic piano melody is written by me. I had help from other musicians as well to make this happen.” Jake explained. “I also put some song covers that I thought would go well with the other songs.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on,” Jimmy narrowed his eyes, “so there are also songs that you covered in this album?”

Jake nodded, “yeah, man. My songs are only the first half. The second half are old songs that I covered.”

“Oh,” Jimmy realized and laughed at himself. “I thought they just happen to have the same titles. But anyway, uh, tell us more about your album. What’s the inspiration behind this? How you came up with it?”

Jake smiled at the memories and fixed his position. “Wow, you’re really taking me back here.” Jake chuckled, “It’s uh, there’s this girl-”

The crowd cheered even more and Jimmy rested his head on his hands, as if hearing a fairy tale.

“-who was my neighbor,” Jake sighed as he continued, “she was my neighbor and I thought she was very pretty, and she’s very nice. And in the brink of my struggles, she kinda helped me see the light. We knew each other better then and I uh... I wrote songs about her.”

Jimmy gasped inaudibly and the crowd cheered again. “No way. So you’re telling me, all of these songs are about her?”

Jake nodded sheepishly.

“Dude,” Jimmy looked at him in awe, “You got issues.”

Jake laughed along with him and shrugged, “or maybe just a stalker.”

“Or just a stalker, yeah.” Jimmy laughed. “Wow, she must be one lucky woman. To have someone who’s capable of expressing their feelings into words like you.”

“What? Oh no, we’re not together.” Jake cleared up. “She had a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said sullenly, “then you really do have issues.”

After the show, Jake was finally done for the day. It was already night time when he finished his part, and he couldn’t wait to go to his apartment and just sleep. But as he got in his car, his stomach suddenly grumbled, hungry for something to digest and Jake knew exactly what he wanted at that time; chocolate milkshake. And there’s only one good place he knew that made the best chocolate shakes.

Jake turned his car around and drove his way back to where he was a year ago. It’s a quiet neighborhood, not a lot going on, but left and right were small apartment complexes and small diners. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late that everything had closed.

Jake stepped out of his car and went into the diner, the young man who was on the cash register immediately recognized who he was.

“Jake G! Man, it’s been a long time since I saw you!” He gave Jake a fist bump. “How you been?”

“I’ve been great, Donny. How’s your mom?” Jake asked.

“She’s doing great. She’s in the kitchen- let me call her for ya. Hey mom! Look who it is!” Donny yelled over, making his mom raise her head and grin when she saw Jake.

“Jake! Oh my, it’s good to see you. But have you lost weight? You look so thin!” She said, “Go sit down, son. I’ll cook up something for you.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Johnson. I just came here for-”

“The milkshake? I know honey.” She chuckled, “now go sit down!”

Smiling, Jake sat himself on one of the chairs while looking around. It was just as how he remembered it. It made him think if Y/N was still living in the same place, since they stopped talking since last year.

“You’re moving out?”

Jake stopped in his tracks and put a forced smile on. “Yeah.”

Y/N frowned and leaned against her door. “Today?”

Jake nodded. He didn’t know why he didn’t tell her- oh, of course he knew why. He wanted to hurt her. Not physically, but emotionally. Jake had confessed the other night, hoping that after all they’d been through, Y/N could finally move on and be happy with Jake instead of her ex.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” Jake shrugged.

Y/N scoffed. “Didn’t think it mattered? Jake, we’re friends. I think I should know that when I knock on your door, you’re not gonna be there anymore.”

Jake rolled his eyes and continued to move boxes to the truck downstairs. Y/N followed him down and kept arguing.

“Jake, do you really have to move today? I mean, I understand that your career is finally taking off, I’m happy for you. But can’t you go tomorrow? At least let me say a proper goodbye?” Y/N plead, her eyes were evidently holding tears back. “Look, just because I can’t reciprocate your feelings right now, doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends, right?”

Jake sighed and dropped the box in his hands into the truck. “Y/N, I just don’t understand. You know how I feel for you for a long time. You know I care about you, you know that I’m always here for you. But I can’t wait for too long. I have to move forward, too....and I don’t think I can do that if we remain friends.”

“So this is it?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking. “After this, I’m not gonna hear from you? You’re just gonna pretend I don’t exist?”

Jake gulped and shrugged. “I guess so.”

“...fine.” She clenched her fists. “I hope you’ll get what you’ve always wanted, Gyllenhaal.”

Jake’s flashback was interrupted by the delicious smell of Mrs. Johnson’s waffles and a big glass of chocolate milkshake right in front of him. “This all smells and looks so good. Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.” Jake let out a satisfied groan as he took a bite of that waffle.

“Always a pleasure, Jake.”

As he took a second bite, Jake suddenly remembered the night Y/N saved his life. It was the moment when he realized there’s some people out there that cared about him, that he could trust.

Y/N had just returned from work. It was stressful, painful and honestly, she dreaded coming home even more. She had a bagful of Mrs. Johnson’s waffles and two milkshakes, ready to eat all by herself just before her son-of-a-bitch boyfriend came back.

Just as she was about to go inside the building, Y/N noticed a shadow from above. She didn’t think much of it at first, but then she realized she kinda knew who it was. And why was he standing so close to the edge- oh my god. Y/N raced to the rooftop while she told the desk lady to call 911.

Once she arrived at the rooftop, Jake nearly jumped at the noise. He should’ve jumped sooner, he thought to himself. But wait, he knew this girl. It’s his neighbor - what’s she doing here?

“H-Hey! You’re... Jake, right? My neighbor?”

Jake looked at her confusingly, but slowly nodded.

“Um...wha-what’s your last name?”

“...Gyllenhaal.”

Y/N nodded and waved her hand, “Hi, Jake Gyllenhaal. I’m uh, Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.”

Jake only stayed quiet and glanced at the ground below him.

“You know, it’s going to be a really hard fall.” She commented, making Jake look at her again.

“Living seems worse.”

Y/N approached him little by little when he wasn’t looking. “You sound like you’ve thought this through.”

Jake chuckled. “Hundreds of times.”

“So why now?”

Jake sighed and sat down, letting his legs dangle off the edge. “Just can’t handle it anymore. And I hate that you talking me out of this is working.”

Y/N smiled a little at his remark and sat beside him. “Maybe Mrs. Johnson’s milkshake and waffles too?”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Chocolate milkshake?”

“Obviously.” Y/N scoffed and handed him a glass. “She makes the best milkshakes, doesn’t she?”

Jake nodded. “Yes she does. So what’s next?” He asked, “you’re gonna tell me it’s all gonna be okay? That the future is bright? Or that you know how it feels?”

“Depends on what your problem is.” Y/N said, sipping her own milkshake.

“How about I’m trash, my music is trash and my life is trash?” Jake offered. “You know how it feels?”

“No, but I have heard you sing.” She said, “I think you have a really nice voice.”

Jake shook his head. “You’re just saying that because you have to.”

Y/N let out a little laugh. “I think you have a good voice, Jake Gyllenhaal. So accept my compliment before I take it back.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks.” Jake chuckled and turned around so his legs were no longer swaying. “I should probably just give up the dream of being a singer. I’m never gonna make it.”

Y/N put her milkshake down and looked at him. “Do you want to give up?”

“Are you kidding? Of course not.. but I have to be realistic. I just don’t have what it takes.” Jake said.

Y/N stayed quiet for a while, just sipping her milkshake while she sat next to Jake, who was now rethinking of that suicide attempt-

“Tried to tell him there’s pain here and suffering too, tried to pray but the angels said ‘we’re too busy for you’...” Y/N sang.

Jake looked at her wide-eyed, it was the first time anyone has ever sang one of his songs. But where did she hear it from anyway? “How did you... where did you...”

“Walls are thin, my friend.” Y/N smiled. “So what goes after that? I couldn’t hear you, it was kind of muffled.”

Jake chuckled, no longer thinking about ending his life as he began singing the rest of the song to her that night.

Without him realizing, Jake had followed his old footsteps home and found himself in front of Y/N’s door. He’s been standing there for a few minutes now. Not knowing what to do. Last time they spoke... it was obvious neither of them wanted anything to do with each other anymore. So what now?

Jake decided to turn around and forget about it. Just as he was, Y/N’s door opened and their eyes met. Y/N nearly dropped the trash she was about to throw away if it weren’t for Jake who helped her put it down gently.

“H-Hi.” Jake started.

“What are you doing here?”

Jake shut his mouth and gulped. He deserved that. “I just uh... I was in the neighborhood and.. thought I’d say hi.”

Y/N kept her gaze low and let her hair cover her vision. “We’re not friends. You don’t need to do that-”

“I know, I know.” Jake sighed. “I just... I want to apologize for what happened a year ago. I was heartbroken and immature. I should’ve told you that I was moving-”

“Hey babe, who’s this?” Jake’s sentence was cut off by a man, suddenly circling his arms around Y/N tightly. A man named Alex, Y/N’s disgusting ex, or so Jake had renamed him.

Y/N swallowed thickly and hugged herself. “It’s- It’s no one-”

“Oh, I remember you.” Alex said. “You’re the one who took Y/N away from me. Well guess what, asshole? We’re together again, and we’re happier than ever. Am I right, sweetheart?”

Y/N nodded mindlessly, avoiding Jake’s judgmental eyes.

“You went back to him? Y/N, what-” Jake was about to question her when he finally took in her appearance. She hasn’t been taking care of herself. Her hair was too long for her liking, she was unhealthily skinny, there were bags under her eyes and she’s wearing a long sleeved shirt and sweatpants when it’s like a thousand degrees outside?? Jake glared at Alex. “Listen, you bastard, you get the hell away from her now. You hurt her-”

“Whoa, that’s a big accusation there.” Alex scoffed, “For all I know, you’re the one barging in here and pointing fingers at me, claiming that you’re friends with Y/N when you’re clearly not, right baby?”

Jake looked at him unbelievably and frowned. “Y/N, you need to leave him now.”

“We’re not friends.” Y/N mumbled, avoiding Jake’s eyes again.

Jake clenched his jaw. It hurt him to hear you say that, but he knew it was just an act so that Alex wouldn’t hit her later. Which meant, he needed to visit her when he’s away. “Fine. FINE. I’ll leave.”

Alex only spared him a cocky scoff and shut the door in his face, immediately turning Y/N to face him.

Jake didn’t hear any plates smashing or hitting from inside, so he left to come back the next day. Hopefully, you’d be in the right mind to talk to him.

As Jake got into his car and drove off, he kept silently cursing at himself for leaving you behind like that. He should’ve known Alex would come right back to her and hit her again, if not worse.

“Y/N, please talk to me. You’ve been acting weird for the past month if not more and you look like you haven’t slept!” Jake visited her at the store the other day.

“Jake, I’m just...not feeling well.” Y/N said. “It’s been a difficult here at the store. I just need to get some rest and I’m-”

“Stop lying, Y/N.” Jake stood in front of her, looking at her eyes, begging her to tell him what’s wrong. “I can help.”

Y/N stared back at his brown eyes. Jake was the single best thing that’s ever happened to her. Although how they got closer was on unfortunate situations, Jake had been nothing but supportive in her life. So maybe, maybe she could tell him this one.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Y/N swallowed and looked down. “It’s Alex.” She said, “He’s been... he’s been....”

Jake frowned. “What is it?”

“He’s been hitting me.”

Jake visited Y/N’s flower shop the next day. She was inside, rearranging the flowers on the display while wearing long sleeves. Jake’s suspicion was correct all along.

He had cleared his schedule for the day, claiming that he’s been too busy and needed some time off. When really, he needed answers on why on earth would Y/N be stupid enough to take Alex back? Alex, the Alex that beat her up almost everyday, until Jake could hear her scream from his apartment room every night.

He would’ve stopped him if it weren’t for her begging him not to. But of course, he had his limits too. He couldn’t watch some bastard hit the girl he loved any longer.

Y/N tried desperately to get Jake to leave, insisting that when Alex came back, he’d kill Jake. But Jake was relentless. He wasn’t going to leave until he made sure Alex wouldn’t come back.

“Jake, please-”

“No.” Jake said, “enough is enough. He can’t treat you like this anymore. You deserve so much more than him.”

Y/N was getting antsy. They had called the cops a few minutes ago, and Alex was about to arrive home right about now, but she couldn’t hear the police sirens yet.

“I’m scared.” Y/N admitted.

Jake stood up and held her shoulders firmly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m right here with you. We’ll get him, Y/N.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Jake.”

“Me too.” Jake pulled her in for a hug and he could feel her nervousness. He was nervous too, but he couldn’t show it. He needed to be strong now than ever.

Jake opened the door to her flower shop and he was greeted with the one scent he would never forget. Lavenders. It was a thing she loved; the color, the scent, the flower.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute!” He heard her say from the back. Jake wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and put his hands in his pocket.

A few moments after, she came out of the storage. “Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.... oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Y/N-”

“What are you doing here now, Jake?”

Jake gulped, his throat suddenly dry. “I just... I wanted to see you.. and talk to you..”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She said. Truth be told, it’s not that Y/N wasn’t happy to see Jake. But if Alex found out... “We’re not friends, Jake.”

Jake sighed and looked at her bruised wrists she desperately tried to hide. “He’s hurting you again. Don’t try to deny it.”

Y/N tugged her sleeves down. “It’s..none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t.” Jake said. “Why are you back with him again?”

Y/N scoffed and pushed past him to busy herself with her flowers. “You can’t expect me to answer that, Jake. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“We sent him to prison because he was hurting you and now he’s back and you’re not gonna do anything about it?!” Jake was getting frustrated. What the hell happened to the Y/N he knew?

“You don’t get to say that!” She pushed him. “Not after what you did! You walked out on me a year ago, don’t expect me to welcome you right back just because now you’re famous, Gyllenhaal. You walked out on us.”

“Us-” Jake released a frustrated sigh while running his hands through his hair. “There was no us to begin with- okay, you know what? I was hurt and immature. I apologize for that, but how the hell do you expect me to just remain friends with you?? You, who I’ve been in love with for the past... years! Years!”

Y/N shoved the handful of lavenders to him. “I just got out of a toxic relationship. I needed time before I could... jump on another man! And I was talking about our friendship! We’ve been friends for years and just because I told you I couldn’t date anyone back then, you decided you didn’t want to be my friend anymore!”

“Oh, sure!” Jake shouted back, “couldn’t date anyone? Look at you now! Back in the arms of the person who nearly killed you!”

Y/N took the lavenders back and put them in a vase. She didn’t have anything more to say to Jake. It wasn’t her choice - nothing ever was.

Jake finally calmed down and took a deep breath. “I can treat you better, Y/N. I love you. I still do.”

Y/N released a sigh. “You don’t get it, do you, Jake?”

“Get what?”

“We’ve put him behind bars before and he got out,” She said, “what makes you think anything we do now would work?”

“He doesn’t have control over you, Y/N. You know that.” Jake said.

Y/N shook her head. “He’s too strong. He could be watching us right now...”

Jake tried his best to get Y/N to leave Alex, but it seemed like he needed more time. But for now, he’s left her with his number and address, in case of an emergency and she needed a place. He told Donny, who had friends in the neighborhood to watch over her, and if something were to happen, he should call Jake immediately. Jake just hoped that one day, she’d reach out to him again and let him help her.

It’s been a week now. Jake hasn’t heard from Y/N and it’s killing him. Was she in too much trouble and couldn’t call for help? What if Alex found his number and ripped it off before she could memorize it? Jake’s leg bounced in the driver’s seat as he waited for the traffic jam to clear.

Once he had arrived at his floor, Jake was surprised to see someone crouching right in front of his door. For a second there, they looked like-

“Y/N?”

The person raised their head. It was Y/N. She had been waiting for him to come back for hours now and it was obvious she had been crying. “..Jake.”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jake ushered next to her and helped her up. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Y/N stood up and tapped her face lightly. “No, I’m.. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Jake was still holding her arms in case something unexpected happened and he didn’t realize she was waiting for him to open the door until she said so. “Oh, OH! Sorry, I.. got distracted.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N smiled and went in after Jake unlocked the door. She looked around Jake’s new apartment, and it’s definitely a total upgrade from his old one.

“Hey, uh.. you want something to drink? Wine? Water?”

“I’ll.. have some wine.” Y/N said as she sat on his couch. She saw on the coffee table, was a picture frame of both of them. It must’ve been taken years ago.

Jake put the wine glass on the table in front of her and sat down gently. “Y/N, is everything really okay?”

She rubbed her hands together and nodded. “I called the police today. I uh... I told them what Alex has been doing, and they took him away.”

Jake put his glass down and grasped her hand. “Y/N, this is great news.. but you don’t look too happy.”

“I just...” Y/N sighed, “I wished I realized just how simple it was. He’s tortured me twice now, and I honestly thought he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore the second time, but I.. I let him in, Jake. I let him in again.”

She continued, “..If you weren’t there yesterday to talk to me.. I would still be in my apartment now, probably getting beat up. So I guess.. I guess I’m here to say thank you, for making me brave enough to do it..and goodbye.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “..goodbye?”

“We didn’t get to do it properly last time, and..” Y/N swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to end on bad terms with you, Jake. Anyone but you.”

Jake was too busy thinking about Y/N’s toxic relationship with Alex that he didn’t think about what had happened to him and Y/N in the first place. But why was she doing this?

“..I should probably just go-”

“Stay.” Jake stood up and held her hands. “Stay here tonight. With me.”

Y/N stayed silent while Jake guided them to a spacious space in front of the TV. Of course she wanted to stay, but what would happen then? Their lives were too far apart now... they lived in two different worlds.

Jake went to play Y/N’s Favorites, a playlist he had in his phone. And the first song was Always on My Mind, covered by Michael Buble.

“Jake..”

“Ssh,” He hushed her, “just tonight, let me show you just how much I love you. If you want to leave in the morning, or when I’m sleeping, then... I won’t stop you.”

Y/N looked hesitant, but in the end she wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck as he put his arms around her waist and they moved along with the song.

“Maybe I didn’t treat you, quite as good as I should have.. Maybe I didn’t love you, quite as often as I should have.. Little things I should’ve said and done.. I just never took the time.. But you were always on my mind, you were always on my mind..”

Jake sang to Y/N softly and closely to her ear and she pulled away to take a good look at him.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” She held back her tears, “Not to you, not ever.”

“Neither do I.” Jake nodded, his tears also welling up.

Y/N placed her hands between his head and gently pulled him closer, giving him a kiss on the lips. “But I want to take it slow.. is that okay?”

Jake smiled and kissed her forehead. “I wouldn’t have it in any other way.”

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protecticarus · 5 years

Note

hello! a prompt: would u be able to write an au set just after todd dropped out of college, where his parents hire dirk as like a carer of some sort for todd's pararibulitis?? and dirk is like fresh-ish out of blackwing and kind of a disaster trying to get a life together, and whether todd has it for reals first time round is up to you but idk I'd love to see something like this!! thank u sm and love ur work!!

I like this! this ended up focusing much more on todd than dirk, but I did drop some angsty blackwing references in there because, well... I’m me.

& thank you so much for reading & liking xx

“A… what? You got me a what?” Todd stuttered into his phone.

“A caretaker!” His mother’s excited voice came through the phone.

“I’m- is that really necessary though? I’ve been doing fine on my own.” Todd assured her.

“Oh honey, I know, but I just feel terrible not being able to be there for you and you didn’t want to move back home, so… I’d feel so much better knowing you’re being taken care of!” His mother replied.

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and wished for a miracle to get him out of this. But he knew his mother well enough.

“Mom… I appreciate it but you’ve done enough-“ He tried to argue one more time.

“Todd, please, for me?” His mother interrupted.

Todd sighed. She knew what she was doing.

“I… Okay.” He finally caved.

“Okay?” His mother confirmed.

“Yes, okay. I’ll… meet with this caretaker person. See if it’s a fit.” Todd mumbled.

“Oh, honey, I already hired him.” His mother piped in.

“You- what!? And him?” Todd exclaimed.

“Yes, Todd, I hired a nice sounding young man to take care of you.” His mother explained.

Todd covered his phone’s microphone and kicked his couch. His plan had been to push off setting a meeting and if he had to, meet this person but tell his mother it wasn’t a fit. It was a bit more difficult now that his mother had already agreed to pay this… ‘young man.’

“Shouldn’t you have waited for me to sign off on this? Mom, I’m the one he’s gonna… take care off.” Todd finally said through gritted teeth, cringing at the idea of a strange man having to take care of him.

“I’m sorry, honey, I just want what’s best for you, you know that. This disease is difficult, I only want you to have the best life possible.” His mother replied. Todd could tell she was getting emotional.

“I know, mom… I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll try.” He said quietly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Todd!” His mother celebrated.

Todd sighed again. “Yeah… so, when’s this guy starting then?”

Next monday, the doorbell rang for the first time in months.

Todd took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before going to open the door. This was going to be a long day.

Todd had no intention of having this man in his house for longer than a day, but he knew he had to suffer through at least 24 hours. For his mother.

As soon as Todd pulled the door open, he heard a cheery British accent greet him.

“Hello! Are you Todd? I certainly hope so. I am terrible with maps, though, so I’m only 50% sure.”

Todd took a moment to take in what was in front of him.

This guy couldn’t be older than 22 or 23. He had floppy auburn hair and a smile that was way too big for a first day at a job, yet it didn’t seem out of place on his face. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright turquoise jacket. His hand was raised in a wave. Not a handshake, a wave.

Todd cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah, I’m Todd. I’m guessing you’re Dirk?”

The Brit’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name, like it was the first time he heard his name said out loud.

“Yes! That is me. I’m Dirk. Gently. Dirk Gently. That’s my name.”

Todd blinked a couple of times. “Right… so, you wanna come in or?”

Dirk jumped into motion. “Yes, I do!” He replied and stomped past Todd into the apartment.

“So, my mom says you don’t have previous experience as a caretaker?” Todd said, already listing reasons to tell his mother this arrangement didn’t work out.

“Oh, yes, or no, I suppose, but I’m very eager to learn! All I’ve wanted to do is help people. And you’re people. As far as I know!” Dirk replied.

Todd found himself taken aback by Dirk’s… eccentric energy every time he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. Okay.” Todd mumbled as a response. “I don’t really need much help, though. I’m fine on my own.”

Dirk smiled. “Well, your mother said otherwise.”

Todd sighed. “Yeah, well, you know moms. They worry.”

Something changed in Dirk’s demeanor and for a moment he looked… almost sad, but before Todd could analyze much, the cheery disposition was back.

“Well, your mother filled me in on this pararibulitis business but I have to say I’ve never heard of it before! Is there something you want me to help you with especially?” Dirk asked as he picked up several of Todd’s items from the coffee table to inspect.

Todd sighed. This was going to be a long day.

At the end of the day, Todd laid in his bed, going over the events of the day. Somehow… he hadn’t told Dirk to leave.

He had absolutely meant to. It was on the tip of his tongue. Yet… Dirk Gently was currently sleeping in his guest room.

Dirk had just… talked and talked and suddenly it was late and by the time Todd was ready to tell Dirk to leave, Dirk had asked if he needed anything and when Todd said no, Dirk retired to the guest room.

Seemed like getting rid of Dirk Gently was going to be harder than Todd had thought.

A week after Dirk had moved in, Todd started to accept that he had a roommate. Dirk was just always going to be there now.

Todd would tell him to go shop for groceries so he could have some time to himself, and Dirk would be gone for 20 minutes and then sit next to Todd as he played the guitar and talk his ear off.

Dirk asked more questions than anyone Todd had ever met. At times, Todd felt like he was being interviewed. In the beginning, Todd assumed his mother had asked Dirk to ask things and report back to her, but already towards the end of the first night it became clear to Todd that Dirk was just nosy.

Dirk also had significant lacks in common knowledge. He’d seen an AC/DC album and asked what band had an album about learning the alphabet. He’d pointed out Gandalf from a Lord of the Rings ad on tv and asked if he was a famous celebrity.

The most strange thing about Dirk though? Sometimes he would answer a question Todd had yet to ask out loud. Or bring Todd his phone about 5 seconds before it started ringing. Or tell Todd to take his food out of the microwave before the bell went off and it would be the perfect temperature.

Todd wondered if he was in a hidden camera show, but a week seemed like a long prank to play.

On the 9th day of Dirk working for Todd, Dirk asked the question Todd had been dreading the whole time.

“How come I’ve never witnessed an attack?”

Todd flinched at the question. “W-what do you mean?”

Dirk sat up straighter on the couch next to Todd. “Well, you said pararibulitis causes you to have painful attacks with hallucinations, right? I’ve been here for 9 days but I’ve never seen you have one. Your mother said they’d gotten so bad you got them daily, that’s why you dropped out of college, right? I’m just wondering, how have I not seen one?” He rambled.

Todd swallowed awkwardly. “I-I don’t know, dude. I guess they happen mostly at night.”

“But then how would they affect you in college?” Dirk asked.

Todd mentally facepalmed. “I, uh, I mean they used to happen more during the days. Now it’s nights.” He tried to explain himself out of this situation.

“I see.” Dirk replied. He seemed genuinely understanding, but Todd feared he suspected something.

“I’m your caretaker, correct?” Dirk then asked.

“Uh… yeah?” Todd replied.

“So, if you have an attack at night, you should wake me. To help you. It’s my job, right?” Dirk said and smiled.

Todd felt terrible. He already hated lying to his family, which is why he avoided them if he could. Now there was this guy living with him just to help him and he started to feel guilty for lying to him too.

“That’s… nice, thanks. But I’m fine.” Todd replied quietly and turned his eyes toward the tv again.

Dirk let the subject go and Todd was grateful.

On day 16, Todd’s guilt was starting to really gnaw at him. Dirk’s strange quirks had grown on Todd. Sure, he still rolled his eyes at 90% of the things coming out of Dirk’s mouth, but it didn’t annoy him anymore. He was starting to like Dirk’s company. Which made it so much worse.

That night, Todd suggested they have a drink together.

A drink turned into 8 for Todd. Sooner than Todd would have liked, he was drunk.

Dirk had had a beer and a half and was giggling like a schoolgirl.

They chatted about whatever popped into their heads as they drank, sitting on the kitchen floor, where Dirk had fallen, tripping over his own feet. Instead of helping him up, Todd simply joined him.

Todd couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much.

“So, you’re from England, eh?” Todd said in a terrible English accent he would’ve been embarrassed by had he not been tipsy.

Dirk cackled at this. “That was horrendous! And yes.”

“So why did you come to the States?” Todd asked.

Color drained out of Dirk’s face and he seemed to sober up before Todd’s eyes.

“Woah, dude, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. Just tell me to fuck off.” Todd said after Dirk had failed to say anything for a while.

Dirk let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Sorry. I’m not going to tell you to… do that, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Sure.” Todd raised up his hands as a sign of surrender. “How ‘bout you say something now.” He added.

Dirk laughed. “Alright… Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Todd replied and took a sip of his 8th beer.

“Why are you pretending to have pararibulitis?” Dirk asked.

The room went completely quiet. Todd froze mid-sip. Dirk waited paitently.

“That’s… a big accusation.” Todd replied.

“Sorry, I’ve just noticed-“ Dirk began to explain.

“I mean, you’re supposed to be taking care of me, right? What kinda training did you go through that makes you think that’s an okay thing to ask?” Todd snapped.

Dirk looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, Todd, I’m simply trying to understand-“

“Well it’s none of your fucking business!” Todd exclaimed and tried to get off the kitchen floor.

“Todd-“

“Get out of my apartment!” Todd screamed. He heard his own voice and cringed, knowing he was overreacting but unable to stop himself.

Dirk looked hurt. Like a child. He took a deep breath and got up.

“I’m sorry, Todd.” He said.

Todd looked away from him.

He heard Dirk sniffle, followed by receding steps and the front door opening and closing.

Todd was alone again.

The next morning, Todd felt like shit.

And hangover was the least of his worries.

Two days later, his mother called him.

“What happened, honey? I thought you were getting along!” She asked.

“Dirk didn’t tell you?” Todd asked back, surprised, having fully expected Dirk to call his mother and let her in on what he’d found out.

“No, he just said you told him to leave. Why, Todd? Why?” She replied, obviously disappointed but trying to appear symphatetic.

Todd sighed. “I don’t need help, mom.”

“Todd…”

“I know, mom.”

4 days after Todd had kicked Dirk out, he wrote several text messages to Dirk but deleted all of them before hitting send on any.

The next day, Dirk showed up.

Todd answered the doorbell, just out of bed and well confused as to who would be at his door.

From the other side of the door, a familiar Brit greeted him with a careful smile. He was wearing a bright yellow jacket Todd hadn’t seen before and his hair was a mess.

“Dirk?” Todd asked, surprised to see his former… what? Fake caretaker? Roommate? Friend?

“Hello.” Dirk carefully said. “I felt… like you needed to talk.”

“You… you felt like I needed to talk… to you?” Todd repeated.

“Yes.” Dirk simply answered. “Don’t you?”

Todd thought for a moment, then stepped aside to let Dirk in.

“Look, Dirk… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…” Todd tried to apologize.

Dirk lifted his hand to stop him. “It’s alright, Todd. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, no, that’s the thing… You were right.” Todd said. He felt a wave of anxiety and something else wash over him. Relief? He’d never admitted to lying about his illness. To anyone. In over a year.

“I know.” Dirk replied.

Todd was taken aback. “You- you do?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So… why are you sorry?” Todd asked.

“Because I should’ve waited for you to tell me instead of confronting you like that.” Dirk explained.

Todd let out a light laugh. “I lied to you… and everyone else and you knew… but you’re sorry for calling me out on it?” He asked.

“…Yes?” Dirk replied.

Todd laughed and covered his face with his hands. “I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an-“

“Yeah, I really am. Such an asshole. And you know who’s not? My mom. And dad. And my little sister. And you. And what do I do? Lie my ass off and make all of your lives harder. My parents had to get a loan to finance their AND my lives. My sister’s so worried about me every fucking day and she’s a teenager for fuck’s sake! She should be out partying or whatever. And you? You’ve been nothing but nice to me and dedicated every day to running my fucking errands for me when I could’ve done it all myself. That is the definition of an asshole.” Todd rambled. He went to sit on the couch, hanging his face down and resting it on his clammy hands.

Dirk didn’t reply for a moment.

Then he sat down next to Todd.

“So, you’re not perfect.” Dirk said.

Todd let out a mocking laugh. “No shit.”

Dirk laughed too. “But you know what you can be?” He asked.

Todd looked up at him. “What?”

Dirk smiled. “Better.”

Todd stared at him for a long moment. “What do you mean?” He finally said.

“You can be better. Do better. Being an arsehole… it’s not like being a werewolf, is it? You have a choice to be better. Stop making excuses for your excuses.” Dirk explained.

Todd thought about it for a moment. The thought of telling his parents he’d been lying to them for over a year? His little sister, who looked up to him? The thought alone made him nauseous. But… he couldn’t deny that Dirk had a point. It’s not like he wanted to be an asshole. It’s not like screwing up everyone else’s lives bought him some kind of weird, perverted joy. He did have a choice. He’d always had a choice. Up until now he’d just made the wrong ones, one after the other.

But maybe… just maybe it was time to make the right one. Even if it was going to hurt like hell.

“You’re right.” Todd said. “Of course you’re right.”

Dirk beamed. “I wish more people saw that.”

Todd laughed. Then he took a deep breath.

“Hey… where are you staying now?” He asked.

Dirk furrowed his brows. “A motel nearby. Why?”

Todd smiled. “Well… I have a guest room and I’m guessing I’m gonna have to start paying my own rent soon, so… You want a roommate? Even if he’s a bit of an asshole?” He asked.

Dirk’s eyes lit up like damn Christmas trees. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Todd assured.

“But you don’t actually need my help?” Dirk questioned.

Todd looked at his new, strange friend and smiled. “Actually… I think I really do.”

thanks for reading! if you have any ideas for fics, feel free to send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

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odderancyart · 5 years

Text

A Yellow Sky

Chapter 1

So... I wrote a Hamilton Foster Care AU because of Reasons. I guess I might as well share it here

AO3

Ten foster homes in three years. Alexander Hamilton is chronically unable to just shut up and do what he's supposed to, even when he's trying, which has certainly had consequences for him in his short life. The Washingtons are his best shot, his caseworker keeps telling him, but Alexander is a realist. They'll realize how annoying he is, hate how much smarter than them he is, and after a couple weeks they'll send him away.

But it's nice there, he finds. Far too nice. Almost like the calm before the storm.

***

Alexander leaned his head against the cool car window, his hands tightly knitted together in his lap. Outside, fields and meadows rolled by. A little while ago, they’d left New York City for the first time since he came to the mainland, and it felt strange to leave the cityscape behind. He’d never seen anything like this before. Back on Nevis, and then St. Croix, the ocean reached farther than anyone could see, and palm trees cropped up everywhere. Vast stretches of golden wheat was a new view.

The sun beamed on the clear-blue sky, oblivious to the sixteen-year-old's quiet distress. To the knot in his stomach. Of course it was. Why would anyone - much less the sun - care about him? An immigrant, bastard, son of a- Alexander cut himself off right there. Those words had been repeated at him so many times, and most of it was true. But his mother wasn’t a whore, and he refused to let anyone call her that. His father, now that was an asshole, but she... Kind brown eyes, black hair falling down her face as she stroked his deathly pale cheek. “Vivre, mon Alexander,” she’d murmured before coughing again. Live, my Alexander. “Become something great. You're so smart. It's your destiny.” By the morning, she was dead, and his own sickness had begun to recede.

He closed his eyes. That was the reason he was once again leaving, once again going to a new foster home where he’d undoubtedly wouldn’t stay for more than a few weeks, or months if he was lucky. His foster parents’ son had called him a whoreson and he’d punched him in the face. Had earned him quite the punishment, and then he’d been sent on his way, called difficult and violent.

Watching the fields buzz by dispassionately, he squeezed the pen in his hand hard. It was calming. No matter what anyone did to him, he’d always have his words.

No matter what the new family did. Without question they’d seem nice at first, and then they’d find out what an annoying brat he was and they’d make him regret it. Eventually he’d end up somewhere else, and the cycle would repeat.

In the back of his mind, he wondered what James was doing right now. His older brother, named after their deadbeat father, who had just turned eighteen as their cousin fucking killed himself, leaving them to fend for themselves. With no job – only an apprenticeship – he hadn’t been deemed capable of raising his younger brother at St. Croix and Alexander had been sent to the mainland after the hurricane. To New York City.

“-Xander. Alexander,” his caseworker, Mr. André, snapped, glancing back from the driver’s seat. “Are you listening to me?”

Alexander flinched, sitting straight and nodding quickly. “Yessir. S-sorry.”

“As I was saying-” He sounded annoyed, and it was hard not to flinch again. “-this is your best shot. Your one shot. You’ve been jumping homes for three years now. Ten homes, Alexander. In three years.”

Nodding, Alexander stared into his lap. Of course he knew that. “Yessir,” he whispered.

“The Washingtons are influential people, Alexander.” His voice softened marginally. Mr André sure liked to use his name a lot. Seemed to think it gave more weight to what he was saying. It was stupid – not that he’d ever voice that opinion, of course. Making enemies with his caseworker was the last thing Alexander wanted. “And they’re good people. This is the best chance you’ll get, and it was extremely kind of them to agree to take someone with your track record in. Don’t screw up.”

“Yessir,” he said for a third time. He’d learnt his lesson by now. Don’t open your big fucking mouth. Talk only when spoken to. Don’t ask for anything. Never say ‘no’.

And never let them know you’re ten times smarter than they’ll ever be. People don’t like that. They’ll make you suffer for humiliating them. Particularly adults don’t like becoming unable to come up with anything to answer a fourteen-year-old immigrant. The corner of his mouth almost quirked upwards. Would have if he hadn’t still been able to remember the pain coming after those stunned faces.

“Good.” A sigh. The car stopped. “We’re here.”

Without looking, Alexander slid out of the car, keeping his eyes trained on the ground as he went to the trunk to grab the gym bag in which he kept his meagre belongings. Enough clothing for a week, a few books, his notebooks, a lot of pencils, and that expensive fountain pen he’d saved for two years to be able to buy and which now was one of his most precious belongings. And the two things he treasured the most: a photo album from his childhood in the Caribbean, and the few letters he’d received from James.

“Take a look at your new home,” Mr. André prompted, and he automatically obeyed even as he almost scoffed. Home. Yeah, right. He looked up.

His bag fell to the ground with a thump.

Holy shit.

The house was gigantic, white with a red roof and at least two floors. Alexander couldn’t quite make out if there was a third or if it was an attic up there. A fucking tower stuck up in the middle of it. The car stood on a gigantic gravel circle surrounding a circle of green grass, and a lush garden stuck out from behind the building, and there was a lake.

This was his new foster home? Someone who lived like this wanted to take in a poor bastard from the middle of nowhere? Why?

Mr André let out a short laugh at Alexander’s open mouth and wide eyes. “Come on, Alexander. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Jerking back into reality, he grabbed his back quickly, following up to the brown double-doors. “Yessir.”

He swallowed as Mr André knocked hard on the door, forgetting to breathe for a moment as he waited to see his new foster parents. His heart pounded in his chest as he heard footsteps from inside.

The door slid open almost soundlessly, revealing a bald, middle-aged man. A quiet gasp of horror escaped Alexander. He was the biggest man he’d ever seen, with broad shoulders and a serious face. He swallowed, ducking his head to hide the fear in his brown eyes. If that was his new foster father, he could hurt him badly if he wanted to.

“Mr Washington,” Mr André said pleasantly, confirming his fears. Fuck. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Mr André, I assume,” Mr Washington replied, his voice one of someone who was used to being obeyed. “And this must be Alexander.”

Swallowing again, he forced himself to look up and nod slightly. “Yessir. Alexander Hamilton.” He blinked in surprise as his new foster father smiled warmly at him.

“Welcome to your new home. Come in. My wife is in the library, she’ll join us in a moment.”

Library. Alexander’s eyes snapped up to Mr Washington’s face, and he straightened without meaning to. They had a library? He was just about to shake his head to dispel his excitement as Mr Washington looked at him. Even if they did, there was no way they’d let him in there, was there?

“Do you like to read, Alexander?”

Biting his tongue, he nodded weakly. Hoping the other wasn’t insulted by his interest. “I do, sir.”

To his relief, Mr Washington only smiled wider. “Good. You’re welcome to read anything in there. Just be careful, some of the books are quite old. Quite a few first-editions too.”

Alexander couldn’t hide is shock, outright staring at him. “You’ll let me-?” He cut himself off quickly, freezing mid-step where he’d begun to make his way inside. “I- I’m sorry, sir,” he quickly mumbled. His stupid mouth, questioning things. Questioning something good. He gritted his teeth. Undoubtedly, he'd revoke the library privileges now, before he’d even had the chance to see it. Somehow, that felt worse than the beating he’d surely get for talking out of turn as soon as Mr André left.

Mr Washington raised an eyebrow, and Alexander swore at himself. For a moment, it seemed like he would say something but then he simply gestured for them to follow, calling out “Martha! They’re here!”

They were seated in a leather couch in the most luxurious living room he had ever seen in his life. If living room was even the correct word. Maybe parlour would fit better. The walls were covered in turquoise wallpaper, with oil paintings hanging on them. He recognized the coffee table as mahogany, and the back wall was dominated by a fireplace taller than him.

Smiling at him, Mr Washington gestured toward one of the paintings, the one hanging over the fireplace. Alexander recognized Mr Washington. He had his arm around a woman who must be his new foster mother. Then there were two other adults – a man and a woman – and a young boy. “You’ll meet Gilbert tonight. He’s our adoptive son, and your age. A few months younger, if I remember your birthday correctly. The other two are Martha’s - my wife’s - children from her first marriage. They have both moved back to Virginia, though.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, sir?” Alexander wasn’t sure what kind of response he was looking for. Mr André gave him a pointed glare, and he shrank in on himself.

Mr Washington only laughed softly, however. “Don’t be. They’re happy and that’s all a parent could ask for.”

He nodded quickly, averting his eyes. Focused on his breathing. The man, his new foster father, sounded trustworthy. Kind. But they always did. They always sounded like they wanted him there, like they wanted him to be family, but they never did. He hadn’t had a family since his mother died, not even his brother. It had been the same after that, and they’d grown more and more distant.

No, they’d keep the act up, especially as long as his caseworker stayed, and then they’d make sure he never forgot that he didn’t belong, that he was here on their mercy and that they could get rid of him whenever they wished. Or do whatever they wanted to him: no one gave a damn about yet another orphan lost in the foster system, especially not an immigrant. Even if the Virgin Islands actually were part of the US, but no one seemed to care about that.

Oh, Mr André actually had pulled him out of one of those foster homes himself after a teacher called CPS when the violence became too evident, but that was one time. One. Hardly something to cheer for.

Footsteps came from one of the arches leading into another hallway, and Alexander glanced up just in time to see a tall woman with her hair in cornrows and cornrows in a bun enter the room. Mr Washington lit up at the sight of her.

“Hello,” she said, voice light and sweet. “I’m Martha Washington.” She held out her hand first to Mr André who stood up and shook it, and then to Alexander. He quickly rose as well before shaking it weakly. A flush rose to his cheeks. Pathetic. He was perfectly capable of a strong, business-like handshake, but it wasn’t a good idea to show off to his new foster parents. Not to anyone who had power over him.

“Mrs Washington, a pleasure,” Mr André replied. “This is Alexander. We’re very grateful you were willing to take him in. Aren’t we, Alexander?”

He nodded, staring at the ground. “Yes, sir, we are. Thank you, ma’am.” The words tasted bad in his mouth. Gratitude. They always expected it, no matter how shitty they treated him. He glanced up at Mr Washington. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh you don’t need to be,” Mrs Washington was quick to say, causing Alexander to frown in confusion. “It’s our pleasure. We’re delighted to have Alexander in our home, and Gilbert is already so excited over having a brother his own age.”

“I already have a brother,” Alexander muttered, before stiffening. Stupid. His heart stopped, and he stared up at his foster parents in fear. “I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to talk back I’m-” He cut himself off. They’d hate if he rambled. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Mrs Washington tilted her head, watching him in... was that concern? No of course it wasn’t, why would she be concerned about him? It was just annoyance disguised as it because Mr André still was here. Alexander already feared the moment when he’d leave.

“Why are you sorry, dear?”

“I didn’t mean to speak back,” he repeated, hating how weak he sounded. How weak he was. And hating that he hadn’t even been here ten minutes and he’d already fucked up.

The Washingtons exchanged a gaze.

“Don’t be, son,” Mr Washington finally said. Alexander flinched at that word. Son. “You’ve done nothing wrong. A brother, you say?” He merely sounded curious, but Alexander ducked his head anyway, nodding jerkily. Would they get mad he had a family outside of them? Even if he hadn’t seen him since he left the Caribbean?

“An older brother,” he finally replied softly. “James. He's still on St. Croix.”

“How come you’re not together?” Mrs Washington asked. “If you’re comfortable with me asking.”

He really wasn’t. Not at all. “He was just eighteen when our cousin... died. Our guardian.” His voice was almost inaudible. “Couldn’t take care of me, too old for the system. So he stayed, and I was sent to New York after the hurricane.” It had been so exciting, too, even with the scars watching his home being ruined left him with. He was going to move to the greatest city in the world. There had been no future for him at St. Croix.

Still wasn’t.

Smiling at him, Mr Washington nodded. “If you want to call him, the phone is yours. Don’t worry about long-distance fees, we can afford it.” He stood up, looking to Mr André. “Should we get the paperwork done?”

The other two adults agreed, leaving him behind to go sign the documents in Mr Washington’s study. Alexander curled up on the couch, careful not to let his dirty sneakers touch the leather. His blue second-hand Converse were so worn down he could almost feel the ground through the soles, and they were squeezing his toes. Half-turning, he looked back at the portrait. The fact that they had an oil-painting of their family was just... insane. People still did that?

He rolled his eyes. Rich people still did that. Because of course they did. The boy – they'd said he was his age – seemed to be about thirteen there, lanky and a little disproportionate, but already handsome. His thick, curly hair was in a bun on top of his head and he had a cocky sort of smile. Like someone who knew how good and smart they were.

Alexander remembered when he used to smile like that in public. He’d stopped sometime in his second year of foster families, he thought, though it was hard to keep track. Might’ve been a longer time ago.

Anxiety coiled in his stomach as he thought of meeting his new foster brother. Would he like him? Would he be like his last, a spoiled brat who thought he could treat Alexander like a slave? With riches like these, it didn’t seem unlikely. After all, Alexander himself was a nobody. Illegitimate, a deadbeat father, a deceased mother. Poorer than a church rat. His most expensive belonging was that fountain pen, which had cost him two hundred dollars. It was so smooth to write with it, and he adored it. Nothing else he owned cost more than twenty – his phone, that is. An old Nokia on which he could do nothing but text and call people, given to him by an old foster family. He was happy just to have it. James had called him on it on his sixteenth birthday a couple months ago. It was the last time they spoke.

Soon, the adults returned, and Mr André ruffled his hair, which he had tied up in a fashionably messy bun, and smiled at him. “Be good now, Alexander.”

“I will, sir,” he replied quietly.

With a nod, Mr André bid his goodbyes and left, leaving him alone with the Washingtons.

As soon as the door closed, Alexander braced himself, ready in case they’d decide to punish him for his rudeness already.

“So, Alexander,” Mrs Washington began, and he looked up at her, accidentally meeting her gaze. He held it defiantly for a moment before looking away, his heart fluttering anxiously. Damn him for being unable to learn his place. To his shock, there was not a hint of anger on her face. She just kept smiling. “Would you like a tour of the house right now, or do you want to go straight to your room? If you want to unpack and get some rest before dinner. Gilbert will be home by then, and he can be pretty intense.”

Unsure what the right answer was, he looked back to her, now careful not to look her in the eyes. There was no indication of which she wanted, so he carefully said, “Can we go to my room, ma’am? If that’s okay.”

She nodded, and he exhaled, relieved relief. Thank fuck, it had been the right one. “Of course. George, take his bag.”

“No!” His heart went up into his throat, and he stood up in alarm, his eyes wide as Mr Washington reached for the black gym bag. Were they- They wouldn’t take his things, would they?

Stopping mid-movement, Mr Washington stared at him in bewilderment before slowly straightening again, not grabbing the bag.

The relief was overpowering, and Alexander didn’t even care if they hit him for having the guts to act out like that, he jerked the bag toward himself, pressing it to his chest.

“Alright…” Mrs Washington blinked. “You can carry it yourself if you wish to, of course. Your room is on the second floor, next to Gilbert’s.”

What kind of name was Gilbert, anyway? Alexander wondered as he nodded again. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

His new foster parents led him out the room, up a dark-brown wooden staircase covered by a white carpet. Seemed like a stupid colour to make a carpet in his opinion. Especially one in the fucking entrance hall, where people would come inside from the garden. The walls were covered in art, and looking down at himself, at his worn black jeans, dark-blue t-shirt and flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he felt incredibly out of place. Alexander glanced up at them nervously. What was he even doing here? This wasn’t the kind of place he belonged in. Not yet, at least. One day, though. That was the thought that kept him going. One day.

“There is Gilbert’s room,” Mrs Washington told him, pointing at one door. For some reason, the French flag had been painted on top of the panel door.

Catching him staring, Mr Washington chuckled. “Gilbert is from France. His parents were close friends of ours and wished for us to receive guardianship of him if something happened to them.”

“That’s very nice of you, sir,” Alexander replied quietly, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. At least it had granted him some peace to know they had an adoptive son already. But if they’d adopted him because they knew his parents, it was a completely different thing.

Then, Mrs Washington opened the door next to Gilbert’s. “And this is yours. It’s a bit sparse right now, since we didn’t know what you’d like to furnish it with, but I’m sure we’ll fix that in no time.”

Alexander’s mouth fell open as he stepped inside. “This- This is all mine?” His voice sounded strangled as he stared at the room- at his room, at least for now. His throat felt thick all of the sudden.

“All yours, son,” Mr Washington confirmed.

It was so big. A twin-sized bed with a teal duvet stood by the wall, and the window had a window-seat, and there was a fancy writing desk with a real office chair that actually looked comfortable. There even was an armchair in one of the corners. “Th- thank you,” he whispered, hardly getting the words out. “Thank you so much, sir.”

Mr Washington smiled, and patted his shoulder. Alexander couldn’t help his violent flinch but was proud of himself that he hadn’t ducked away, at least. The hand was quickly removed.

“We’ll call you down for dinner in an hour.” Mrs Washington stepped out again, her husband following. “Gilbert will probably be home just before that. You can stay here, or explore the house. Do you want the door closed or open?”

Once again, he didn’t know the correct answer. Alexander chewed at his lower lip, then shrugged lightly. He wanted it closed. But he didn’t know what they wanted it to be. With a nod and another slight smile, Mrs Washington left it half-open as they left.

He listened to their steps disappear downstairs before he relaxed, throwing his bag on the bed and jumping up on it. The soft mattress bounced as he moved, and he couldn’t help the small noise of excitement he made. He’d forgotten what a comfortable bed felt like, if he ever had known. Compared to this, his bed home at Nevis had been a rock.

When he was certain they weren’t coming back, he started picking up his belongings. The books and notebooks came first, and then the photo album. He’d find somewhere to hide them soon, somewhere the Washingtons wouldn’t look if they searched his room. Then, carefully, he picked up the black folder in which he kept his brother’s letters to him, swallowing down the thickness in his throat.

He pulled up one of them, reading the first lines.

Alexander,

I’m happy to hear you’re doing well in America, and that you’re going to a better school than the one here.

Counting the times he’d debated with himself to call his brother and beg him to get him home to the Caribbean, to adopt him as his only relative alive – except for their father, wherever the hell he was. He’d almost done it one time last January after a bad beating for sneaking down to the kitchen to steal food. Especially during the horrible New York-winters. He never stopped being hungry during those months, and he never got enough food even during the summers. Alexander couldn’t count the times he’d gone to bed a frozen winter night sobbing for the tropical weather of the West Indies. Away from this frozen Hell. But eventually, he always talked himself out of it.

James and St. Croix were poor. He didn’t want to be a burden. They’d hardly spoken for over two years, and didn’t know each other anymore.

And in two years he would’ve aged out of the system. He’d finally be able to build himself a future, to go to a great college on full scholarship, become someone. A lawyer or politician, maybe. At St. Croix, he wouldn’t have a future. Certainly not one that would mark his name down in history. And that was what he wanted. What kept Alexander going.

A legacy.

Even if he had to survive two more years of foster care to get there, he would. He’d show them what Alexander Hamilton was capable of. That he was smarter than any of them, better than any of them. He’d be remembered by history while their petty little names disappeared forever as soon as their grandchildren were dead.

The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. It was small, but it was there, and he glanced toward the door. The Washingtons could do their worst.

He’d show them all.

#hamilton #alexander hamilton #george washington #martha washington #lafayette #foster care au #modern au #hamilton modern au #past child abuse #more detailed tags on ao3

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