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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Eleven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: first chapter after acosf!! im sorry for how short this one is, but acosf wrecked me and writing this put me back together. i hope it does something similar for you ❤️

***

“You say you’ve been doing better lately?”

The therapist’s office is plain, a little gloomy, but big windows overlook the center of town that make Nesta feel less suffocated.

She nods, “Yeah.”

“How would you describe ‘better’?” Dr. Bond— Lana, she insists on being called— has been endlessly patient with Nesta’s non-answers so far. Nesta almost feels bad and decides to throw the woman a rope.

“I’m not alone anymore,” she says. “I used to be alone all the time, but now I have friends, sort of… and a boyfriend.” She still loves that word. It’s never tasted so exciting before.

“You were always alone before this, then? Or were there just people that you didn’t consider noteworthy?”

A scowl rises to Nesta’s mouth. Damn, she works quick. “I was raised with two sisters in a one-bedroom apartment. I never got to be alone, but then I grew up, and…” Her mind wants to skip over the time she spent in college. “For the last couple of years, I holed up in my own place. Never wanted to talk to anybody or see them. If people took an interest in me, I shut them down because I didn’t have an interest in them.”

“You missed a few years,” Lana notes.

“What?”

“You’re twenty-four, and you moved out at eighteen. Where were you before getting your own place?”

Numbness seeps through Nesta at the question. She knows she can ask Lana to change the topic, but that will only bring it back later. “I had a boyfriend in college,” she says flatly. “I lived with him for a few years, but like you said, it isn’t noteworthy.”

“As a fellow lone wolf, I disagree.” Lana’s clinical polite face is unchanging. “Any person who you trust enough to let into your life is noteworthy.”

Nesta says nothing.

“I’m interested in these people you’ve chosen to trust,” her therapist continues after a beat of silence. “Why don’t we start with whoever you trust most?”

Nesta snorts. This she can talk about.

“His name is Cassian. I’ve been living with him ever since my apartment got flooded a couple of months ago, and he’s always been a good friend to me.” She sits there, thinking about what else to say. “I think I like him more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”

“This is the new boyfriend?”

Nesta nods.

“Do you compare him to the old one?”

Nesta doesn’t know what this lady’s angle is, but she answers carefully, “I used to. Back when I first moved in. I haven’t done it in a long time, though.”

“Why not?”

The answer is simple. “There’s no need to. He’s not comparable to anybody.”

“Is that why you opened up to him after two years of self-imposed isolation?”

Nesta looks away. “It wasn’t isolation,” she defends. “It’s just… after a lifetime of being subjected to the gaze of strangers, I wanted to hide. I liked hiding.” Mostly.

“What does that mean, the gaze of strangers?”

Question after cool question, this one. Nesta struggles to find a proper answer.

“You know how,” she starts slowly, “as soon as you start school, you’re placed into this bubble with a bunch of people who don’t know you and have no reason to care about you? There’s a shift in how you view people, and how people view you. And I thought I could leave it behind once I graduated high school, but it followed me to college and to parties and into everyday interactions.”

“What is it?”

“It’s this—” Nesta waves her hands, “judgment. It’s that thing you do as soon as you meet someone, and you try to determine whether they’re worth your time or not. Whether they’re above or below you in this made-up social hierarchy in your head.”

“Explain that more,” Lana says.

“We want to hang around people we find cool. And when we meet someone new, we inspect them, look them up and down, to see if they fit our definition of cool. We take them apart. Everyone does it, even you. And with me,” she shrugs, “I’m pretty, I wear the right clothes, I do my makeup. So at first glance, people think, ‘Oh, I can see myself getting to know her better. I can see myself liking her.’ But then they take a closer look at me, and it’s like…” Her fingers flutter in the air, trying to support her thoughts. “I can see their minds changing. ‘Nevermind, I was wrong. Nevermind, there’s something off with her. She’s a little quiet, a little weird, a little bitchy.’”

Lana narrows her eyes. “And Cassian doesn’t look at you like that?”

Nesta looks away. “He doesn’t look at anyone like that.”

It’s what used to make her so uncomfortable about him. She was incapable of fathoming his honesty, his genuineness, his kindness. She thought he was even weirder than her for it— she placed him beneath her on her social hierarchy for it.

Lana frowns thoughtfully. “And now you two live together?”

Nesta nods, then shrugs. “For the next twenty-four hours, we do. He’s helping me move back into my old place.”

Because that was another conversation she and Cassian had on Thanksgiving night. It was a long time coming, but also the perfect time.

“You’re saying your apartment has been ready for weeks? Why are you just telling me now?”

Nesta pillowed her face on his chest, not as upset at revealing the news as she would have been some days ago. “Because I was scared that if I moved out, I would lose my friendship with you.”

“That never would have happened—”

“We wouldn’t see each other every day anymore. Even if we didn’t go back to being complete strangers, the closeness would be lost.”

“You must not know me, then. I would’ve texted you every fucking hour. You’d never hear the end of me.”

“I couldn’t guarantee that back then.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I can now.” She crawled higher up his body, lowering her voice to a secretive pitch. “Want to know why?”

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because you’re mine now. And that’s what I was waiting for while I made Lorene hold that shitty empty apartment for me. I was waiting for a catalyst, a revelation.” She pressed a kiss to his sternum. “And I most definitely got it.” The pleasant ache between her legs was proof enough. “Also,” she added, “it would be weird if you lived with your girlfriend before even having a first date with her.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “You have a point there. We have been moving backwards, haven’t we?”

Nesta nodded into his skin.

He got a little quiet. “Still,” he said after a moment. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll see me every day. I’ll be fifteen minutes away.”

“I’ll still miss you.”

“I know.”

“What does talking about guys have to do with my therapy?” Nesta squirms, getting restless with the topic.

“Lots of things,” Lana says, putting down her notepad. “It gets you comfortable with expressing your feelings to me, and it teaches me about how you view the world. Besides, therapy isn’t just a rehashing of past traumas, you know. We can talk about whatever you want here, especially if it makes you feel good.”

“Well, I want to talk about something else.” She’s not spending this much money by the hour just to talk about how much she likes Cassian— she can go to Cassian for that for free.

“Like what?” Lana asks smoothly.

She’s offering an opening, finally, to the real reason that Nesta’s here.

Nesta pulls at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, wondering where to start. “I feel like I’ve been growing up lately,” she says carefully. “I have all these new people in my life to be responsible for, and I’m— I want to do it right. But I’m worried I won’t have room for new things until I pack up some of my old shit, so that’s why I’m here, I guess. I don’t want to hold on to all of my old shit anymore.”

At Lana’s encouraging silence, she continues, “I spent my whole life stuck in a suffocating town, and as soon as I left, I got stuck in a relationship. By the time I knew what freedom felt like, I— I’d been left behind. Everyone I knew was moving onto bigger things and all I had was this shitbag of a past. So I got a new place and started law school and called it a fresh start, but now I’m here and I’m not sure if I ever got better.”

She takes a sharp breath after everything that’s spilled.

Lana purses her lips, letting the room absorb Nesta’s words. After a long moment, she says, “Just because bad things stop happening to someone, doesn’t mean they instantly get better. It’s a good thing that you’re recognizing that before stepping into new relationships, Nesta.”

Lana glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today, but this was a productive first session.” She offers a small smile. “Same time next week?” She says it as if it isn’t already a done deal.

Nesta nods gratefully anyway, unable to say anything else. As soon as she’s out the door, a pent-up sigh escapes her. That wasn’t so bad.

***

Later that night, Nesta doesn’t miss Cassian’s wistful stare as he takes down the painting he got her from the fall festival. Nor does she miss how slowly he packs it away.

Once the bedroom she made her home is as sparse as the day she moved in, all her things packed away neatly in boxes, Nesta wraps her arms around Cassian and pulls him to the bed. There, she lets him hold her close, their breaths and limbs intertwining as they lie in thoughtful silence.

“I can’t believe I’ll never see this room again,” Nesta says quietly.

Cassian’s eyes widen in alarm. “What do you mean, never again?”

“I’ll be staying in your room whenever I visit, remember?” Her underwear already occupies a drawer in his closet.

Cassian visibly relaxes when he remembers, then smiles. “Right. Of course.”

She lets herself sink deeper into his embrace. “I just realized you’ve never seen my apartment before.” He was waiting at the front door of Lorene’s place while Nesta collected her things all those weeks ago, but she cringes at the thought of him visiting now. The clear wealth gap between her and Cassian doesn’t usually show, but it’ll be undeniable with the cramped room she calls an apartment. “Maybe it’s best if I move back in without your help. There might not even be space there for your huge body.”

“Sounds more appealing by the minute.” He’s not joking. He tilts up Nesta’s chin so she’s forced to meet his eyes. “I can’t wait to start partaking in your life the way you took over mine. Spending nights at your place, meeting your friends, riding in your car instead of mine.”

Nesta swallows.

“I’m gonna miss you like hell, but it’ll be for the best.”

He’s right: this is what’s best for their budding relationship right now. Moving out, creating even a little bit of distance— all of it is so they can finally learn each other as lovers instead of roommates. So when they do come back together, which Nesta firmly believes they will, it’ll be stronger than ever before.

Some of their shared sadness flits away at the truth of it. She only places her hand on his cheek, content to appreciate this view— this beautiful, hazel-shaded view— without further chitchat or goodbyes.

Cassian is not as fond of the silence. “I need to tell you something,” he says seriously after a few minutes.

After only a handful of days dating Cassian, Nesta knows what he’s going to say. “Don’t,” she warns, unamused.

He grins conspiratorially and leans in even closer, until their mouths are almost brushing. “You’re my everything, Nesta.”

“Oh my god, stop it.” She squirms out of his hold and gets up, tossing the blankets off herself.

“No, come back!” He makes a grab for her sleeve. “We have to use the bed one last time—”

But she’s already running off.

***

Cassian carefully arranges the canvas painting on the wall, taking a step back to determine if it’s hanging straight. The ruby and amber leaves of the landscape stand out against the dull teal walls of Nesta’s basement apartment, but he’s just getting started.

The rest of Nesta’s things are half-unpacked from their cardboard boxes, but instead of going for the important shit first, he finds the box he specifically marked FAVES in bold letters the night before.

While Nesta wrangles to get her clothes back into her old closet in the background, Cassian crouches and rips open the small box. There, lying atop his girlfriend’s favorite trinkets and personal items, is the framed photo he snuck in without her noticing.

It’s of the two of them at the fall festival, taken mere hours before their first kiss. Nesta is pressed up close to Cassian (her excuse being that it was cold), and a genuine light fills her eyes, one that Cassian never thought he’d be able to capture on camera. Cassian himself isn’t looking at the camera, but down at Nesta with wind-flushed cheeks and a distant smile. Making sure she’s having a good time, that she truly wants to be there with him in that moment.

He never realized how close they looked in that picture until he had it printed and framed, not long after Nesta announced she was moving out. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.

Standing up, he places the photo on Nesta’s wooden dresser. Nesta still has her head in the closet, moving things around, but Cassian makes no announcement of his gift to her. She’ll notice it sooner or later.

He clears his throat. “Wanna take a break and order Chinese?”

Nesta pops her head out of the closet, her ponytail ruffled and eyes narrowed at him. “Have you even been helping this whole time?”

“Standing here and looking pretty is harder than it seems, but I don’t expect any credit from you,” he jokes. “Just let me buy you lunch.”

Nesta grumbles something he chooses not to hear, but straightens up and rubs her spine with a wince. “I need a fucking chiropractor,” she mutters.

Guilt shoots through Cassian at that small wince, and he resolves to finish organizing Nesta’s closet for her before the day is over. Nesta goes on, “So? Still determined to split your time between here and the cabin?” She gestures to the apartment with an arm.

It’s really just a glorified single room, with a rusty kitchenette in the corner, a hallway near the stairs that holds the bathroom, and Nesta’s bed pushed against one wall. It’s nothing special, but Cassian loves it. Mostly because he can already envision each new nook and cranny to take Nesta against, and how he wants to wake up in that too-small bed on days that he’s too lazy to drive home.

“It’s perfect,” he says simply. Thank you for sharing your home with me, is what he really means. Speaking of homes—

Cassian digs around in his pocket, finding and pulling out a newly-minted silver key. “I almost forgot to give you this.”

Nesta frowns, coming forward to take the key from him. He uses the closeness as an excuse to wrap his arms around her waist while she inspects the object.

She glances up at him, eyes softer than they were a moment ago, lips slightly parted. “You’re giving me a key to the cabin?”

He shrugs casually. “You should’ve gotten one a long time ago.” She used either Cassian’s key or the spare while she lived there.

Her mouth is still open, and she closes it once, twice, before finally saying, “I don’t have a key to my place for you.”

“But I can get one,” she adds quickly. “If you want it, that is.”

Of course he wants it, but he keeps his face carefully neutral. “Only if you want me to have one. We’re still new, and this is your personal space.” He emphasizes your.

Nesta purses her lips, then says, “I’ll think about it.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief— relief that Nesta is being honest with him instead of doing something she isn’t yet ready for. He’ll take her honesty over an apartment key any day.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he smiles brightly and shoves her toward the bed. “If we’re getting dumplings again then you can’t steal mine.”

***

a/n: fair warning that ive never been to therapy, but in stories therapists are usually a mode for character exploration and development, which is what nesta's therapy will be for.

also im so glad i got to meet gwyn in acosf and im so excited to introduce her into this fic too!! if you have ideas for her origin story feel free to share because nothing is planned yet

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @swankii-art-teacher

#a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fic #ncssianwrites

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sadsapphicslut · 3 years

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chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!!

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

Chapter One

A Dead Brother

I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

“Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

❈

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

“Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

It rang four times before he picked up.

“Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

“Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

“Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood – that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene. My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

❈

The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

#my writing #writing #original writing #original content #original fiction #creative writing #dark academia #tw death #tw drugs #tw mentions of sex #tw swearing #tw mental illness #tw medication #alo writes

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dbssh · 4 years

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🌼pick a random oc surprise me

Write a short drabble from your OCs POV meeting their Love Interest.

😳😳😳😳 ok i havent written in. a while tm and im very much not happy with this but! ive been obsessively working on it for the past two days so i think its time to just Stop and hit post.

Aja had been hiding out in the woods. It was isolated enough to be safe, but still within walking distance of the nearest town. She’d made it her home for the past few weeks, taking a break from travelling for the moment. Winter was coming soon. There wasn’t any snow on the ground, yet, but there was less and less readily-available food. That wasn’t usually a problem for her, but recently it was. There was a stray dog, a big black mutt with short hair and a long face, that had been sticking around her camp since she’d come here. It was a sad, skinny thing, and she always made sure it had something to eat. But today had been particularly cold, a bitter wind and dark clouds on the horizon, and by the time the sun went down, she had nothing.

The dog nuzzled into her hip as she stood at the edge of the treeline, looking out at the small town not too far away. She took a deep breath, slung her bag over her shoulder, and started walking. The dog followed.

She slowed down as they neared a fence, the backside of a house. All the lights were out, as they should be at this hour. She stepped around to the other side of the house and found her prize, two metal garbage cans. She made a shushing motion at the dog, before she quietly removed the lid and started digging.

It didn’t take long to find enough scraps of meat and discarded food for the dog to be satisfied, which she was grateful for. She didn’t want to dig around in garbage any more than she had to, especially when she had no idea when she’d be able to clean herself properly. She sat with the dog while it chewed on the bone from a ham, stroking its matted fur. For a moment it was almost peaceful.

The peace was short-lived, interrupted by a loud clanging as something else disturbed the trash cans, something far less concerned with stealth than Aja had been. She stood and stepped over, looking into the can. It was a raccoon, filthy and hardly more than skin-and-bones.

“Get out of here,” she whispered at it, shooing it away. She felt awful for the poor thing, but with the noise it was making, it was putting them both in danger. “Get your own, we’ve already got this one.” It didn’t seem to understand her, and all it did was dig further into the garbage, making an awful noise as it’s paws clanged against the metal. She was panicking, knowing the noise would wake someone up soon if it hadn’t already, and she grabbed at the raccoon, trying to pull it out as it hissed and screamed, scratching at her hands, the dog barking at it as it did.

The door to the house slammed open, and an older man walked out, holding a shotgun and murmuring about the god-damned vermin. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw her, and she froze as she saw him, dropping the raccoon to the ground.

“What the hell?” he said. Aja took a moment to consider her options, looking from the old man to the gun in his hands, to the street behind him. While he was still sitting there, dumb-struck, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at, Aja took a deep breath, and broke into a sprint, pushing past him and into the street. She didn’t know where she was running or where she intended to go, but she couldn’t stay here.

The old man swore as she bolted, running into the street and firing a few shots. Lucky for her the old man was a lousy shot, and in the dark of the night he missed. The noise roused the other houses on the street, lights clicking on in the windows as people woke.

She didn’t know what to do. She kept running.

---

Parked in an alleyway was a mint-blue pickup truck, with more than a few dents and scratches along the sides and a crack in the windshield. Sleeping in the driver's seat was Hutch. Or at least, they were sleeping, until gunshots rang out through the night and they jumped awake, scrambling to shove their keys into the ignition. They had no fucking clue what was happening, and they weren’t going to stick around to find out.

As the headlights blinked to life, they caught a figure. She froze in the bright white light, staring directly at them like a deer crossing the road. She was panicked, and tall, really fucking tall, with wild dark hair and all-black clothes complete with a cape that draped over her shoulders. She looked terrified.

Within a moment she’d snapped out of it and kept running. Hutch leaned out the window and called out after her, trying to get her to wait, but she didn’t stop. Fuck.

They started the engine and pulled the stupid truck out of the alley as fast as it would go.

---

If Aja had panicked when the headlights had turned on, she was fucking terrified when the truck actually started following her. She had no idea what was about to happen, but even she couldn’t outrun a car. So when it pulled in front of her and stopped abruptly, she stopped too, ready to face whatever was about to happen.

She was speechless when the passenger door popped open, and the driver looked up at her, smiled, and said:

“Need a ride?”

“Pardon?”

“I heard the shots. If they have anything to do with you, you probably wanna get the hell out of this place before they start forming a good-ol’ fashioned angry mob,” they paused, still with a cocky grin on their face. “I have a car, if you haven’t noticed, but we gotta get moving. Do you want in or not?”

She paused, deliberating. She could keep going, alone. She’d survive, and she’d find her own way out, and it would be fine. She didn’t need this person. On the other hand… she hadn’t had a real conversation in years. And here someone was, talking to her like a peer, not even flinching as they looked at her.

Noise of shouting townsfolk echoed down the street.

“Last chance,” they said, starting to look worried. “If you aren’t getting out of here, I am.”

She took a deep breath, and got in the car.

---

They drove until morning, mostly silent. There had been some one-sided conversation at first, Hutch asking questions and Aja giving one-word answers, but they’d stopped trying at some point. The radio droned quietly, some country song on the radio, Hutch tapping their fingers on the wheel and muttering the words.

In the morning sun, she was able to get a better look at them. They were short, with tanned brown skin and a number of scars across their face and arms. Their hair was blond, pink at the tips, looking as though it had just begun to grow out of a neat cut. Their face seemed to be in an almost-permanent grin, their silver eyes twinkling with a mischievous energy.

And looking closer at them, it became obvious that they weren’t human, at least not entirely. Their ears were pointed and animal-like, flicking about like a cat. Their fingertips had short black claws, and tucked around their waist was a thin, wiry tail that looked almost like that of a mouse or a lion, with a tuft of fur the same pink-golden colour as their hair at it’s tip.

She must have looked for just a moment too long, because they turned to look at her with another stupid grin, and they winked.

Her face felt hot as she quickly turned away, staring at the window as they laughed.

“I’m just messin’ with you, you’re fine,” they said.

“Why did you help me?” she asked, changing the topic.

“I dunno,” they shrugged. “You just looked like you needed help, is all. Anyone would’ve done it.” Their voice was thick with a southern accent.

“Nobody else did. Nobody else has ever done what you did.” She paused. “Not for me, anyways.”

“Anyone decent, I should say,” they laughed. “Those people? Not decent. Towns like that never are. Don’t really know how to treat anyone different.”

“I suppose so. Still. Thank you.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you…” she trailed off, not really sure how to finish that. They looked her over for a minute, their silver eyes shining.

“Y’know what? There is something.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t certain, but she didn’t think people usually actually took someone up on an offer like that.

“Sure!” they laughed. “Just stay with me a little while. It gets lonely out here all by myself. Whenever you’re ready to leave, you can go, I ain’t gonna stop you. Just thought it might be nice for both of us to have some good company for a change.” That… didn’t sound too bad. She wasn’t really sure why, but she trusted them. Besides, even if they did try something, she was fairly sure she could take care of it. And they were right, after all. She was lonely. Incredibly, painfully lonely, in a way she had to force herself not to think about.

“Okay,” she said, after a pause.

#oc talk #ALSO. its aja and hutch because im predictable sorry #ive not felt super like myself the past few days and i think it shows because the vibes? the writing style? all over the place #also this is probably the 4th different scenario ive tried for their meeting. i dont love it but it works better than what i had before so #progress #also. is it obvious enough yet that i dont know how to do endings? i just kinda leave it lmao i dont know how to end something in a Good Way #oc: aja #oc: hutch #asks #demondiice

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dontmindthefangirling · 5 years

Text

Broken Nose {t.h.}

part 6

gif by @parkeret

Summary: You’ve just gotten a new job as an on-set medic for Spider-Man: Far From Home to be on stand by for any injuries that may occur during stunts. When the star of the movie, Tom Holland, breaks his nose from a particularly bad fall, you fix his broken nose but can he fix your broken heart?

Warnings: lots of angst, swearing, mentions of past abusive relationship

this is a short one omg im so sorry, the next ones will be longer

part 5 | series masterlist

“I have dreams too, you know!” you shouted, your hands going up in the air in exasperation. You knew it was impossible arguing with him, because talking to Will was like talking to a brick wall who only heard what he wanted to hear, but somehow he always managed to get under your skin and make your blood absolutely boil.

“I’m not moving to California,” you added. “I’m staying in New York.”

Will laughed bitterly. “Why? So you can fuck other guys while I’m away?”

“Why do you always resort to that!” you spat. “I am allowed to have guy friends that aren’t you!”

“Yeah cause you’re a fucking whore,” Will scoffed.

You clenched your jaw, and dug your nails into your palms to prevent yourself from clocking him across his smug, stupid face. You didn’t know why you were still together. You would break up if you could, but Will was a manipulative mastermind who always found a way to guilt you to stay. You wished you weren’t such an empath otherwise you would have left months ago.

“You’re coming with me to California and that’s that,” Will said, turning his back to you and walking to his living room. One thing you had been able to put off was moving in together, being your excuse was that his landlord didn’t allow dogs. Will was stupid enough to believe that, and his ego prevented him from moving in with you because in his mind, he had to be in control of everything.

“No I’m not,” you said, refusing to follow him. Will whipped his head around and narrowed his dark eyes at you.

“No is not a fucking option!” Will shouted. You hated when he raised his voice at you, but it had gotten to the point where it only fueled your anger.

“My job is here, Will!” you spat. “I’m not leaving it! Besides, I’m applying to NYU for medical school in a year!”

“You know they have medical schools in California right?” Will scoffed, and you swore you heard him call you a dumb bitch under his breath.

You didn’t even bother explaining your reasoning to him that you wanted to apply to the specific MD program that NYU had because you knew it would just go in one ear and out the other.

Besides, you were hoping that he would just fucking leave and you would be free of his manipulative ass.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve put up with you for this long.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a piece of shit, Will!”

He had never laid a hand on you in the two and half years that you dated, but in that moment when he took a step towards you, his fists clenched at his sides, your heart actually missed a beat because the anger in his eyes made you almost think he would hit you.

But once again, he didn’t step another foot closer to you, just glaring daggers at you with the eyes that were once kind to you, a long long time ago.

It didn’t start like this. You had met Will in your second year of undergrad, and he was funny and sweet and he made you feel special. Your first year together was lovely, but it was like a switch went off in his head that told him he could finally be his true self once he had you caught in his trap. At that point, you were too deep in to notice it right away until you began to notice that Will was monitoring the amount of time you spent with your friends, how he began trash-talking James and saying he didn’t trust him, how he demanded that you spend every waking minute with him and no one else, not even your family.

The red flags were everywhere and they appeared slowly and once you noticed them all, you were in far too deep.

“We’re done,” you said. You had uttered those words millions of times to him, after every time he tried to control you in things like what you wore and who you hung out with. But every time he managed to guilt you into staying, saying he was all alone and had no one else but you.

It was all bullshit and you were done falling for it.

Will scoffed. “No we’re not.”

“Yes we are,” you spat. “I never want to see your fucking face again.”

You began to walk towards the door when Will grabbed your wrist, causing you to turn around and shove him away from you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. “Ever again.”

“You’re an ungrateful bitch,” Will spat. “After everything I’ve done for you-”

“Everything you’ve done?” you laughed bitterly. “Like what? Tear down my self-esteem? Try to isolate me from everyone I care about? You’re a manipulative and abusive person, Will. And I never want to see you again.”

Will began going on about how you’d be back and all the same speeches you heard before, but you slammed the front door behind you and blocked and deleted his number, as well as all of his social media. You were done and for the first time in two years, you felt free.

You were free of Will for almost six months now, and you were finally starting to find out who you were again, without him controlling everything you did. You were trying to find who you were before you met him, and it was hard at first, but you were slowly making progress.

But then you met Tom.

And he was absolutely nothing like Will, in fact, he was the complete opposite. But it scared you to fall for someone again. You were terrified of getting hurt, terrified of misjudging someone.

Every fiber in your body told you that Tom wasn’t like Will, but that piece of anxiety that still shrouded your heart prevented you from listening to them.

But as soon as you were outside of Tom’s trailer, all of your emotions came flooding back and that’s how you ended up outside of James’s apartment door, a sobbing and shaking mess. You barely had the energy to knock on the door, and every time you closed your eyes you saw Tom’s kind eyes looking at you with such adoration you felt like you would melt under his gaze.

And then you ran out on him.

The door swung open, revealing James in a pair of black joggers and a gray t-shirt. As soon as he saw your composure, he ushered you inside, shutting the door behind you.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, red from crying, and your eyes stung with every blink and pain pierced your heart with every thought of Tom. You were gasping and you felt like you couldn’t breathe and you didn’t exactly know why you were such a mess, but you knew it had to do with Tom knocking a piece of the wall down that you had built around your heart.

James guided you over to the couch and had you sit down while he grabbed you a blanket and laid it over your legs. He didn’t say anything, just waiting for you to speak first, but he did wrap his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest while he ran a hand through your hair.

When you felt ready to talk, you sat up and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling harshly and staring at the ground.

“Want to tell me what happened?” James asked gently.

You inhaled sharply and kept your gaze locked on the floor.

“T-Tom...I...,” you started, closing your eyes as more tears silently fell from your eyes. “He...”

“Did you guys hook up or something?” James asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He knew you had feelings for the doe-eyed movie star because James could read you like a book. And he knew about your evening hang-outs with Tom and Tessa everyday after filming, so you knew he had put the dots together a long time ago.

“No,” you said shaking your head. “No.”

“So what happened?”

“We almost kissed,” you finally managed to choke out. James let out a breath through his nose and looked at his lap. He knew everything about Will and he knew how it had affected you and your trust in relationships.

“And let me guess, you got afraid?” James asked gently.

You nodded weakly. “I ran out on him.”

James sighed and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“It’s okay (Y/N),” he said gently. “If you’re not ready-”

“That’s the problem,” you said, leaning away from James so you could look at him. “Being with Tom...it just felt so natural and I almost forgot about everything else. But when we were that close and I realized just how much I liked him, I got scared.”

“Do you want to be with him?” James asked.

You looked at your lap while your cheeks heated up. Of course you wanted to, but would your heart let you?

“He’s an actor,” you whispered.

“And you’re a paramedic. I’m glad we’ve established your professions,” James snorted, earning a small smile from you.

“I mean, he’s famous,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“So what?” James said, shrugging his shoulders. “If he really likes you and you like him, why should that matter?”

You looked away from James and let out a deep breath. Your emotions were all over the place, and all you could think about was Tom’s hands on your waist and his breath on your face, and the way your noses bumped together.

“Look, (Y/N), I know you’re afraid of being hurt again,” James said, his voice gentle. “But I don’t think that should mean that you can’t ever find love again. Will was a piece of shit, and I’m so glad you’re not with him anymore, but think of it as a learning experience. Now you know what not to put up with.”

You rested your head on your cheek and let out a breath.

“But if you aren’t ready, then you aren’t ready. You know I’ll support you either way,” James added.

You looked at him and offered him a gentle smile. “I know.”

“Can I get you a tissue? You look like a snot monster.”

You laughed lightly. “Yes please.”

You almost contemplated calling in sick to work the next morning, but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed and shuffled your way to the studio with James.

You were hoping to avoid Tom for the day because you weren’t ready to address the emotions that were bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know what you wanted yet, and you didn’t know exactly what to say to him after you ran out on him with no explanation and most likely hurting him in the process.

“If you’re not going to drink your coffee, I will,” James said, gesturing to your untouched coffee cup in front of you.

“Go for it,” you said, shoving it towards him.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” James asked, raising an eyebrow at you before sipping the coffee.

“What do you think?” you grumbled, glaring at him. James sighed and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, (Y/N),” he said.

You wished you could believe him.

Suddenly, you heard a group of people approaching the area in which the medical tent was situated and your heart almost leaped into your throat at the sight of Tom at the front of the group. He was already in his Spider-Man costume and he was talking with Jake Gyllenhaal. He was turned away from you, and you suddenly felt sick to your stomach.

“I’ll be back,” you muttered to James before rushing to the bathroom before Tom even had the chance to look in your direction.

Tom told himself to avoid the medical tent for the rest of filming or at least until he felt like you hadn’t ripped his heart out. After you left in a hurry, Tom remained in the center of his trailer, wondering what he could have said or done that would have caused you to run away.

He spent the entire night thinking about it, thinking about the sudden look of fear you had in your eyes and how your fingers had been trembling against him. He couldn’t figure out why you were acting the way you were, and he was heartbroken to say the least.

However, when he was ushered through the set, he knew he was going to walk by you, and he tried distracting himself by talking with Jake, but that didn’t last long enough for him to miss you getting up from your seat and rushing away.

Tom’s eyes followed you as you disappeared into the bathroom, and he felt like his breath was caught in his throat.

“I’ll be back,” he said quickly to Jake before dispersing from the group. He began walking towards the bathroom, hoping to catch you on your way out, but James was suddenly standing in front of him.

“Dude, don’t,” James merely said. Tom furrowed his eyebrows at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you know why-”

“Yeah,” James sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. “And as her best friend, I’m just going to tell you that she’s not ready.”

Tom stared at James, trying to read his hardened expression.

“I just need to know why she ran away,” Tom whispered, wishing his voice didn’t crack. James’s expression softened and he sighed.

“It’s really not my story to tell,” James said. “But just give her time.”

Tom wasn’t particularly happy with that answer, but he knew that James knew you better than anyone else, so he chewed on his bottom lip and nodded.

“Just...um, could you, uh, let her know that I’m here to talk if she needs to?” Tom asked.

James smiled gently and nodded. “Of course, man.”

“Thanks,” Tom said. He glanced to the bathroom door for a moment before turning on his heel and joining the group again, being whisked away for more filming.

“What did you tell him?” you asked, playing with your fingers nervously.

“I told him you need time,” James responded.

You nodded, staring at your chipped nail polish and inhaling deeply. So many emotions were running through your mind and a large part of you just wanted to talk to Tom, and the other part wanted to avoid him for a long time.

“I don’t know what I need,” you whispered.

“That means you need time,” James retorted.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sighed.

Tom knew that you weren’t going to show up later that day after most of the cast and crew had gone home, but he found himself sitting and waiting in his trailer anyways. He kept glancing out the shades in the window, hoping that you would come knock at the door any moment now, but as the clock ticked on, he knew you weren’t coming.

He was hoping that maybe you would want to talk to him, tell him what James couldn’t, and he could apologize if he had done anything to upset you. Tessa sat at his feet, playing with one of her toys, and Tom could only watch her, missing you and how you would play with her.

He had never felt this way about anyone before. The emotions he had developed for you had developed fast and he didn’t know how to handle them especially now that you weren’t speaking to him. Every time he closed his eyes he could see you E/C ones staring back at him, and he could feel your body close against his as your lips brushed together.

Every time his mind began to wander, he had to snap himself out of it because the reality was that you ran out on him and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know if it was because of him or because of something else, but all he knew was that he missed you.

Across the city, you sat in your apartment, staring at the TV screen but not absorbing any of the information because your mind was elsewhere. You felt so stupid for running out on Tom before explaining yourself, but you just reacted to your emotions so quickly.

You had to sit down and talk with him and tell him everything about Will and hopefully he would understand. Going the whole day without talking to him was driving you insane.

You sat up, now itching to get to the studio tomorrow to talk with him, but when you opened your phone, all that anxiousness disappeared into despair when you saw the E! News headline.

Tom Holland spotted with a mystery girl leaving a bar in New York City!

part 7

Taglist: @greenarrowhead // @likeit-or-leaveit // @badpvn // @ eternal-I-appel-du-vide // @thollandx // @aliceinwhateverland // @danicarosaline // @eye-of-the-owl // @binaruma // @wonders-of-the-multiverse // @fandomdarlings // @spideyyeet // @apseventy // @sidheag-the-witch // @mlt2000 // @lawrencekate // @hereiamhereigo// @ clockbobbler // @yourwonderbelle // @annoyingsibling // @jackiehollanderr // @spideylovin // @nerdypisces160 // @everythingaboutnothingsstuff // @yeahimcrying// @sunflowercandie // @ophcelia // @emmaelizabeth2014 // @gmzparkr // @l0ve-0f-my-life // @kaylathekittykat225 // @aestheticgaybish // @danicarosaline // @marvel-hollxnd // @hell-yeah-peter-parker // @clockblobber // @hereiamhereigo // @popluckbih // @solarspidey //

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #marvel #fanfic #fic #spider-man #spiderman

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just-for-cal · 5 years

Text

She’s Jealous - [c.h]

word count: 2885 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) reads some thirst tweets and gets a bit frustrated

(y/n) loved Calum, she always did and it’s likely that she always will. Especially when she never plans to never act on these feelings.

So it felt unfair to her that she was getting so upset scrolling through Twitter. Dozens upon dozens of fans thirsting over him. The other boys too, but she only had narrowed eyes at the comments directed towards Calum.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Luke threw himself over the back of the sofa she was sat on, scooting close to her and looking onto her phone.

The first thing he saw being an all caps message about Ashton’s arms, and something about choking.

“Jesus love, into Ash now are we?” He chuckled, but (y/n) glared at him. “Alright, not in the mood for funny” Luke muttered to himself.

“Have you seen all these?” She asked him in a quiet voice, eyes still trained on her phone as she scrolled.

“Thirst tweets? I look sometimes, some of them are kinda funny”

(y/n) simply hummed, clearly that wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“What’s got you all worked up? I thought you’d be agreeing with some of ‘em” Luke jabbed (y/n’s) side with his elbow, and she tried to force a smile, but her nerves seeped through.

“Everyone’s just so… so into him,” She explained, and before she could keep reading, Luke took her phone, and closed the app. “I feel like maybe it diminishes my chances even further”

“Your chances? Please, (y/n/n), you’ve got the biggest head start of all chances, it’s less of a chance more of a, eh, hundred percent guarantee”

The girl just rolled her eyes at Luke’s words. He always tried to convince her of how he thought Calum returned her feelings, but she never felt that way. He always seemed glued to their platonic relationship, so she never acted on the feelings she’d harbored for so long.

“I’m not kiddin’ babe,” Luke told her. “Ya should hear what he says about you when you’re not around, he loves to talk about you”

(y/n) blushed, but she still shook her head and took her phone back from his hands.

“Thanks, Luke,” She sighed, and smoothed out her skirt before standing. “Are you coming out tonight?”

“Yeah I’ll tag along,” He said and stood up with her, outstretching his arms. (y/n) chuckled quietly, stepping into his arms and letting him hug her tight. “Besides, I'm already all done up, can’t cancel now”

She was laughing when she pulled away, smiling to see he has in fact put on a shimmery eyeshadow to change up his usual leather jacket and jeans look. Even going so far as to put on his heeled boots.

When she looked away, Calum was coming down the stairs, but he stopped at the bottom and just stared at her. He looked frozen, lips parted, eyes set on her. (y/n) crinkled her brows as though to silently ask if he was alright.

“Wow,” He mumbled, finally walking over to her and his best friend. She still looked confused. “You look amazin’ sunshine”

“Oh,” She chuckled nervously, ducking her head down and pushing her hair behind her ear. Luke rolled his eyes and left the room, unable to handle all the pent up tension that had filled it. “You had me worried there for a sec”

Calum grinned at her, this girl he’d had in his life now for a few years and couldn’t ever get a long enough look at. She was blushing under his gaze, and it only made him smile more.

“You ready for dinner?” He asked, and she nodded, letting him guide her to the front door.

Luke was there waiting, looking at his phone and chuckling to himself. Mike and Ashton were planning to meet them at the restaurant, and we’re probably already there.

“What’s so funny?” Calum asked, and Luke showed him he was on Twitter.

“These thirst tweets about you, they're hilarious”

Calum blinked in surprise, not having expected that response, at all, and looked to (y/n) with raised brows before back at Luke.

“Why...?”

“Cause she was lookin’ at ‘em earlier, and I wanted to know what the big deal was. These are great!”

Calum looked at (y/n) again, a smirk on his lips to know that she’d read thirst tweets about him. But before he could make a cocky comment, Luke spoke up again.

“(y/n/n) you’re in this one,” Luke snickered as he read one, and then proceeded to read it out loud. “It’s a retweet of a pic of Calum, zoomed in on his thighs, and it says ‘@(your handle) sure is one lucky chick, i bet @CalumHood lets her ride his thighs whenever she wants’ can you believe that?”

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now.

Luke was laughing his ass off, all the while (y/n) avoided looking directly at Calum, who was staring at her.

“Alright, on that note, let's get going,” Cal suggested, letting Luke out so he could walk with (y/n), his hand resting on the small of her back. When she looked up at him, he leaned a bit closer. “We’ll talk about why you were reading thirst tweets about me later” He told her quietly.

(y/n) winced.

Dinner went by well, besides the fact that Calum had his arm slung around the booth behind (y/n’s) shoulder, his fingertips grazing her shoulder every now and then. But no one said anything about it.

“So, (y/n/n), you comin’ back to the house after dinner?” Ash asked. She began to shake her head, but Calum spoke up for her.

“Yeah, we’re all gonna chill back at the house,” He said, his hand caressing softly over her shoulder now. “Probably watch a movie or something if that sounds good to you guys?”

“Yeah that sounds great” Ashton agreed.

While the other boys proceeded out of the booth to head to the car, (y/n) shot Calum a look.

“What are you doing? I can’t hang out tonight, I have class in the morning, that’s why we did dinner instead-“

“That’s really too bad, love, because you and I need to have a bit of a talk, don’t we?”

She raised her brows at his bold comment, but didn’t argue with him again. Simply followed next to him out of the restaurant.

She continued to stare at him, waiting for him to give her some sort of sign of what was going on in his head. Clearly something had happened, but he wasn’t budging at all. The only sliver of a sign he offered was pulling her in close to him when they got in the back of Luke’s car. Which only made (y/n) more anxious for answers, because it was now obvious to Luke that something was up.

Ash and Mike were already at the house when Luke pulled in, and everyone went in together, deciding on drinks and just hanging out and chatting. (y/n) didn’t understand why Calum needed her to stick around for this, but she wasn’t going to question him in front of everyone.

She was sat curled up on one end of the sofa, and surprisingly, it was Ashton next to her, not Calum. And Luke on the other side of Ashton.

Calum was in his own seat in a recliner, sat upright and solid, completely isolated from the group. Michael was also sat alone in a similar chair, but still made the effort to join in on the laughter and conversation.

At this point, (y/n) was not only confused, but a little pissed off.

She took a long swig of her beer, gave Calum a pointed look, and then excused herself to the kitchen for another drink. Where she waited for him to show up just seconds later.

“You alright love?” He asked as he strolled into the kitchen, words sweet, but voice cocky. (y/n) crossed her arms as she leaned back against the counter.

“What the hell is up with you? You drag me back here with the guys because you need to talk to me, and then ignore me, when you know I shouldn’t even be here in the first place-”

“Babe,” Calum cut off her irritated rambling, and she gawked a bit at the pet name, but before she could continue, he took a large stride forward, practically caging her in against the kitchen counter. “Why are you so upset?” He asked, feigning concern as he leaned in even closer to her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke again, hands on either side of her on the counter, now actually keeping her their against him. “Why are you so tense, angel?”

(y/n) pushed herself further back into the counter, trying to put some space between their bodies as their eyes met again. There was a coy smirk on his lips, telling her he knew exactly what he was doing, messing with her like this.

“Was it all those tweets you were reading, babe?” He asked, and she liked her lips, suddenly they felt very dry. Calum chuckled as he caught the action. “I knew it”

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked him breathlessly.

“Didn’t you want to have that talk now? That is why you wanted me to follow you in here isn’t it?” Calum asked, and the irritation in her eyes dissipated into something else he recognized all too well, just not so much on her.

Lust.

“Did all those thirst tweets from random girls make you a bit jealous baby?” He cooed, hands finding her hips and sliding just a bit under the hem of her shirt, just enough to run the rough pads of his fingers over her skin. He cocked an eyebrow at her, telling her he was impatient for her answer.

“Maybe,” She murmured out, unable to find her voice due to his distracting touch. “Just a little bit”

“Really?” Calum chuckled, letting one of his hands trail from her waist to cup just under her jaw, pulling her in closer. He was leaning over considerably by reason of their height difference. “I can tell when you lie (y/n), we’ve been friends for years” His ring clad fingers ran delicately down her throat.

When he leaned forward, her eyes fell shut, and a chill ran down her spine as his lips brushed over hers. It almost seemed unintentional, but (y/n) knew full well that Calum was in absolute control of what he was doing.

“We should get back to our friends before they come looking for us” Calum practically muttered into her mouth, stepping back a bit to leave the room.

Before he could, her small hands grasped the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him back in against her and connecting their lips in a desperate and passionate kiss. Like her life depended on it, she’d never thought twice about kissing him, she just knew that she needed to before he could leave.

Calum reacted immediately, kissing her back with fervor, his hands setting back on her hips so he could lift her up and set her on the counter. Her skirt rode up a bit, but she didn’t have a care about it. Their kiss broke for a moment as she readjusted to be comfortable, but he didn’t let her do much before tugging her right back into his chest, neck craning down to meet her lips again in a fiery kiss. She tasted of alcohol and her strawberry chapstick and he was addicted to it upon contact, each kiss more desperate than the last, until she was panting against him in silent plea for more.

“Cal,” She murmured his name out softly as he hiked her legs up his hips, so that he could run his hands under her bare thighs and hold her securely against him. He trailed a few kisses along her jaw, making her tilt her head back in bliss.

He pulled away, eyes flickering over her features and taking a moment to fully appreciate her in this state. Her eyes were shut, long lashes casting small shadows over her cheekbones. Lips swollen and pink because of him. She looked like a piece of art like this.

(y/n’s) eyes opened when she realized he wasn’t about to kiss her again, and a blush settled on her cheeks as she found him staring at her. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide and looking like a dork.

“What?” She murmured after he’d just stared for long enough. Calum shook his head, smiling one of his infamously happy grins, his eyes crinkling and his teeth on display as he looked at her.

“I just love you so damn much, I don’t know why you’d ever be jealous of a stranger, angel” He murmured, a hand cupping her cheek. She wasn’t sure how he’d gone from irresistibly sexy to adorable and sweet in a matter of seconds, but it didn’t matter, because her heart was swelling beyond maximum capacity and the smile she’d tried to hold back broke free.

“You love me?” She asked, even though he’d said to her clear as day, she needed to know that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her right now.

“Course I do sunshine, you’re my best girl, always have been” He said, shrugging his shoulder and cocking his head to the side. (y/n) smiled at him, her hands finally releasing their death grip on his collar to take his face in her small palms, gently guiding him down to kiss his lips softly. Gentle, and pure, and sweet.

She kept her forehead pressed against his, her hands still holding him close even as their lips parted.

“That’s how I should’ve kissed you the first time,” She whispered to him. “After a date, all nervous like”

Calum chuckled softly, his hands taking her own and his lips brushing the back of them both before cupping her face in his hands, and kissing her sweetly, as she did him.

“I love you too,” She murmured between small kisses. “I love you too” She repeated, their noses bumping a bit as their lips met again in a slightly more sloppy kiss.

“Hey where’s the- woah hey!”

Calum and (y/n) pulled apart upon hearing Michael’s surprised words from what he’d walked in on. The bassist swiftly pulled down her skirt from where it had ridden up pretty high on her thighs, and gave his friend an awkward nod of acknowledgement.

“Guys! They finally did it!” Michael hollered into the living room.

(y/n) sighed, giving Calum a bashful and apologetic look before she slid off the counter she’d been sitting on. Luke and Ashton came rushing in, one with his arms up in cheers, and the other staring wide eyed and gawking just at the close proximity of Calum and (y/n).

“It’s February, you guys owe me twenty, I guessed the closest!” Luke hollered at the other two.

“You bet on us?” (y/n) asked.

“Luke, you guessed January, it doesn’t count ‘cause it passed. Ash wins, he guessed May” Michael ignored (y/n’s) comment, while fumbling for his wallet to pay Ashton.

“But I was closest,” Luke argued. “Doesn’t matter if it happened past my guess, my guess was still closest-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Calum spoke up, taking the twenty dollar bill from Michael before Ashton, or Luke, could. “You guys are not paying each other over (y/n) and I getting together”

“We’re together?” (y/n) asked softly from next to him.

“Course we are baby,” Calum winked over at her. “If you’ll have me, but give me a moment,” He turned back to his friends, holding up the money. “(y/n/n’s) got classes in the morning, so we are taking this, I’m taking her home, and we’re using your money to get her breakfast for the morning”

“Fine,” Luke muttered. “Congratulations by the way, I knew you two would crack”

“Crack?” Calum muttered, but shook his head, deciding he didn’t want much more of an explanation. “Okay, we’re gonna head out, ready?” He asked (y/n), who nodded and took his offered hand so he’d lead her out of the house.

“Don’t forget to carry the bride over the threshold!” Luke hollered before they could be out of earshot.

Calum turned to (y/n), squeezing her hand and kissing her temple.

“When’s your last class tomorrow?” He asked, and she thought for a moment.

“I should be finished up by two,” She answered. “Why, you free?”

He giggled, actually giggled at her response, and nodded his head.

“I say we go on that date you were talking about earlier,” He suggested, opening the passenger door of the car for her. She hummed and got in, Cal quickly closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. “Well? Am I taking you out tomorrow?” He asked, and she grinned, nodding and leaning over the center console to meet his lips in a kiss.

“You sure as hell are” She agreed, and Calum grinned before kissing her again.

They should have done this long ago.

xoxo ~ jordie

#5sos #5sos x reader #5sos fanfiction #5sos imagine #5sos scenario #calum hood #calum hood x reader #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood scenario #calum hood imagine

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bulletproofscales · 5 years

Note

Could u pls do some 2seok where Jin fattens hobi up so much that the poor baby gets stuck in a door or breaks a chair? N he doesn't know how to feel but jinnie comforts him n feeds him n gives him tummy rubs n jst luvs him :(( ♡

—ok so,,, mayhaps,,, i got a little carried away,,,and wrote,,, over 5k words???? IM SORYY I HAVE A THING FOR 2SEOK. I love this request too!! It’s my first time writting a prompt about a character breaking something (that isnt clothing) so i really hope i dont let you down with this one!!–

Seokjin had already adopted their entire life to fit Hoseok’s size. The large size chairs with no arms, changing a wooden bed for a double matress on the floor, wide doors, open spaces. Every measure to make the younger as cozy as possible in the comfort of their own home. But this week, Mrs and Mr. Jung had asked the couple if they could watch over the house as they went on a short vacation; cramped rooms, old chairs, childhood beds. To say Hoseok was frightened would be an understatement.

In his defence, he had every right to be anxious. There had been a drastic change on Hoseok’s frame, and his parents were too very slim individuals. He knew they had asked him and not sister just because she was on a short trip to Japan, he wasn’t the closest with his parents. They were judgmental enough when he was only chubby but now it had been a couple of months since his last visit, and anyone could say he was now properly obese. It wasn’t even an exaggeration at this point. His face had rounded out completely, and neck had disappeared entirely only to be replaced with a thick layer of fat. His chest had grown enough to be considered breasts, sagging down and resting on his enormous belly; which had grown enough to get in Hoseok’s way of normal everyday basics: he had a hard time putting on shoes, most times opting for sandals, put on pants, or well, joggers with extreme difficulty, he couldn’t even see his feet anymore! But it wasn’t a risky guess to say they were probably chubby as well. His stomach took so much space his arms, now flabby and with jiggly wings, couldn’t reach the bottom of it. His overhang so low it took up most space of his crotch; that also had a little separate pouch of fat above it. His love handles were now big enough to connect with the rolls of fat on his back. His legs had grown inwards and outwards, making it harder to walk or move in general. And it was all Kim Seokjin’s fault.

Hoseok was really fit once, lean muscles and sharp angles. In constant fear of dropping people’s expectations of him; that he was going to make it big, the world known dancer he had to become. The pressure was suffocating and soon turned the thing he loved the most, into the biggest toll on his mental health; to the point once he moved out of his parents’ house, the once extroverted cheerful boy isolated himself from not only his hometown friends but also the ones he had quickly made in Seoul. It was shocking to Seokjin when the guy he had not so long ago became his boyfriend, stopped talking to him entirely, even though he was older, he understood the stress of university. But it was summer vacation and there was still no sign of the dancer, of course, he didn’t expect him to burst out crying when he confronted the younger in his own apartment door. Yet with the discovery that this was much more than just stress from studies, Seokjin felt only more motivated to stay and to bring back the joyful man he met when the boy first entered university and their friend group. So he started hanging out more in the younger’s apartment, most days cooking his own meals for two; knowing fully well how more often than not, Hoseok would skip his everyday meals. And to Seokjin’s luck, the dancer not only accepted them but also ate them gleefully. Or at least that’s what the older could say from the now healthy weight he had gained. His ribs aren’t as noticeable and his every angle felt at least a little soter.; hi mood was better too, less anxious and even more confident in his own skin. Not as unsure, but the fun, extroverted and cheerful man he was before. Not only that, but Hoseok had also started to spend less time practicing in the dance studio, and more time at home; which gave the older the perfect opportunity to shower him with love, even though he was letting loose a little, it didn’t mean his incertenties disappeared. So the older would automatically preparee little details for huis boyfriend to see, from a single cupcake next to a post it with an encouraging message on it, or an ice cream after a particularly hard day, or a full on feast of celebration. It was Seokjin’s way of expressing support, especially considering how hard Hoseok wa son his body. For example, there was a feast with all of the dancer, or well, ex-dancer, when he decided to change his major to literature. It wasn’t that Seokjin was against dancing, but it had become such a toxic aspect of his boyfriend’s life, the reason behind all of his insecurities and anxieties. The older couldn’t say he was upset with the change, rather excited by it. Hoseok, of course was still uncertain but not only with Seokjin but with the help of everyone, he learnt to feel comfortable on his current major.

When Hoseok was majoring in dancing composition, all of his boyfriend`s rich foods would burn out throughout the week; however, it just so happened that the literature major did not require half as much movement as his former one. So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when the younger began to gain weight, barely noticeable at first as Hoseok had the metabolism of a teenager. But that could only keep him fit solong; slowly, and very gradually weight began to settle. Barely noticeable, a soft stomach rounder thighs, but now, it would be the first thing people saw in him when he walked past.

It was hard, even though he was near finishing his major, in a happy relationship., with an amazing group of friends who stood by him; Hoseok still had his doubts about his change in career, especially with the metamorphosis his body had gone through. But with his boyfriends’ help, they adjusted their life till it was hardly noticeable that he was any different to their friends. But that was in their apartment, in Seoul.

“Seokjin I don’t fit through the door.” Hoseok stated mortified in front of the too slim entrance.

“Oh come on, Hobi! No with that attitude you won’t!”

“I am physically unable to go through this door.” He stood rigid as he saw his boyfriend laugh hysterically already inside the house.

“Don’t be ridiculous Seokie! Come I’ll help you in.” The older stood now outside in front of Hoseok, Slim crooked fingers holding fat ones. “Do you wanna try sideways or normal?”

“Lets try sideways.” The younger said waddling till he was no longer facing the door but the house next to them. Seokjin slides his hands from his arms to the very center of the massive expanse of his stomach.

“Ok, now walk slowly, try sucking in once you reach the door.” The older’s calmness was somewhat contagious as Hoseok walked over to the door, his boyfriend was already inside though his hands were still on him, pushing the fat slightly inwards, he would squish and ohs every side that went past the door frame so that he would fit. And just like that, slowly and carefully, Hoseok was inside his childhood home.

“If I have to do that everytime to get in an out of the house I think I’ll just stay in the entire week.” Hoseok groaned instantly finding a chair to sit down, cringing at the loud creak it produced. His breathing was heavy already, he could feel the heat radiating from his most likely red cheeks.

“Then don’t? I mean, you always used to complained how there wasn’t anything to do here anyway. And your parents already left tons of food for us to eat.” He shrugged cheekily “I say we use this week to relax, I know how stressed you’ve been with your thesis on that book..um…?” He gestured vaguely with his large hands.

“Demian” The younger started with a loud exhale of air, feeling the exhaustion from just the name of the novel alone.

“See? You are in need of a break, and you are in luck your amazing boyfriend is going to make sure, you have a good time!” He exclaimed rather dramatically, which earnt a fit of bubbly giggles from the younger. “I’m thinking….”He paused for a moment’s shifting his weight from one long leg to the other. “Movie marathon, blanket fort, and that stew you told me your mom left us.” Hoseok’s heart shaped smiled split his face in half, nodding quickly. And with that his boyfriend left to the living room, probably top build that for the mentioned. The younger would go grab the food and plates, however he had to get up first; a basic day to day thing that had become a difficulty with time. It took a few attempts but he was finally up and waddling his way into the cramped kitchen. It was hard, his ass constantly brushing against the counters, sometimes pushing pots in the process of moving; though he finally was able to not only waddle his way into the living room carrying the huge pot, but also go back for two large sodas and their plates glasses and chopsticks.

His childhood living room was turned into a blanket fortress, which wasn’t surprising knowing it was Seokjin’s specialty. The floor covered with pillows and blankets, making it comfortable to sit on the ground rather than the couch; it was a good call considering how small this couch was in comparison to theirs, Hoseok probably would only be able to fit half of his ass on it. Besides why would he choose the couch when he had his boyfriend already waiting open arms on floor, “The Lion King” ready to play in the tv in front of them, lights already dim and ready. With an adoring smile he wobbled his way into the floor, sitting down with a loud thud and a long exhale of breath; automatically his boyfriend began to serve him a large portion and set on top of his massive stomach. It pulled down enough for his overhang to be completely settled on the floor covering his crotch; which was also being squished between the fat of his thighs which he had to have spread for ther eot be room for his overflowing stomach. He began to eat happily, one hand bringing food into his parted lipos and the other holding him up from behind; though his flabby arm got tired and he had to push himself backwards against the couch, his whole body jiggling violently with the movement.

He finished his serving quite quickly, and his appetite had changed drastically over the last couple of years, so he pushed himself forward to get a second. Though he finished that one at amazing speed too, so he had to move again to get his third; but by the forth serving Hoseok was growing tired of moving forward and back constantly and eye his boyfriend who had an arm over his shoulder and another hand mindlessly on his not yet bloated stomach. All it took was a slight cough from the younger and Seokjin is already bringing the pot near them to serve him his fifth serving of stew. There was nearly half of the pot left, though Hoseok kept up a fast pace until his seventh serving, he was feeling a little full, his stomach hardening on the slightest; yet this isn’t a worry on the younger’s mind as the large kept it’s steady rhythm tracing circles around the expanse of fat. It was on the eight serving where he had to take a break, his breathing reduced to heavy intakes of air; signalling silently for hs boyfriend to bring him one of the bottles of soda, not needing to be told to help him hold it the older did anyways; knowing Hoseok’s arms would only resist so long, long crooked fingers placed firmly on top of chubby ones as the younger gulped down. There was less than half the bottle left, and his stomach had expanded ridiculously almost no fat left to squish; a loud whine made it past his oily lips before the younger could restrain it.

“Aw, Hoseokie, we both know there is still room left.” He left no time for the other to respond as a hand sneaked its way under the tight shirt and began pressing at the sides, massaging the pain away strongly. It took a couple of minutes but the younger finally felt a wave of hunger go through him because of the smell of the stew that is yet to be eaten inside the pot.

“I’m ready.” He stated quietly, though this time he didn’t move to grab Seokjin’s hand with the next serving on it. The older was quick to realize what he had to do, and pressed himself against Hoseok’s side, sinking into the flesh as he brought a mouthful of food into his lazily parted lips. Neither of them were paying attention to the movie anymore, both of them completely absorbed with what was happening. Stuffings weren’t a rare occurrence though every time both Hoseok and Seokjin got completely lost in it; the younger shivered with the feeling of hot stew slipping down his throat easily, warm all over because of their overeating, and Seokjin’s hot breath on his thick neck. A deep brush tainted his cheeks as he panted, poking his eyes open at the lack of food being sent his way, only to be found with an empty pot.

“I think this was meant to last us the entire week.” Seokjin’s says breathless, the younger knew he was excited by this too. They both acknowledged it, though never spoke of it. He felt the same way too, and even though Hoseok did spend a lot of his time eating and Seokjin feeding him; never like this. Not hours of stuffing that left both of them breathless, they both knew the other wanted that, though they never found the time. That was until they were asked to look out for the Jung parents’ house, all alone for an entire week. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad.

And he had been right, it was in this week were both lovers discovered the very wonders of feederism; testing the younger’s limits on every meal which had him on a constant state of fullness and laziness. Tonight was their last diner in the house before they had to leave the house. Seokjin was currently out, looking for all of their orders at the various restaurants Hoseok had ordered form. Not so much to their surprise, they had finished all of the food Hoseok’s parents had left them by the lunch of day two; or well at least the younger did. Even though his hometown wasn’t necessarily the biggest, there so many orders that had Hoseok’s stomach rumbling angrily, but there was no food left! Unless…

He swung his gigantic mass forward and back looking for impulse to stand; it took a couple of tries but with a violent speed he stood up. The enormous amount of weight in his middle almost making him fall forward, he was already panting and he could feel his hearts speeding up. It took some moments of recomposure until he began to waddle his way into his parents’ bedroom; if his memory didn’t fail him, his mother had a secret stock of fattening foods for when she was on her diets. He sneaked his fat mass through the slim door into her closet and spread his knees seperate ways to make room for the giant rolls that formed whenever he crouched. and there it was the large “shoe box” underneath layer wsof clothes that covered it.

Happily he took it, though all this walking had tir4ed him out; he eyed the chair on hispàrents’ desk. It might not be the most comfortable, but he didn’t have the time to clean the crumbs he was going to leave in their bed afterwards, nor the energy to walk back to the living room. So with a sigh, he laid all of his weight aggressively on the weak chair. It creaked loudly but that was a normality now for Hoseok so he proceeded to excitedly open the box. He could start eating now, and when he had more energy go back to the couch, right?

He didn’t exactly know what he was going to find inside the box, though at this point he was willing to eat anything; he actually had a hard time reaching the insides of the box, having to be at a distance from the desk, his stomach getting in the way between him and the food. He let the desk sink into his belly as he reached over the massive chocolate bar and began to eat. His plans of going to the couch being forgotten not only because he got lost on the eating and the feeling of his hunger decreasing gradually; but also the feeling of revenge on his parents. Knowing how much of a pig they would think he is ass overspilling on the chair, gut too fat pushing against the desk, too spoiled to be able to wait less than an hour without food. It was thrilling, knowing how much o a pig he was; he wants to slow down so Seokjin could see him like this when he arrived; but i couldn’t help the speed at which food enters his mouth, he was so hungry. His train of thought had already stopped long ago, the feeling of food settling down at the bottom of his large stomach, in fact he had begin to close his eyes in pleasure, only hearing his heavy breathing and the noise of him biting and swallowing food he didn’t even took the time to recognize. So lost in the feeling, perhaps, too lost, as he couldn’t anticipate the loud crack coming from underneath him. Hoseok didn’t have time to process what had just happened, but the broken pieces of chair sinking into his flabby ass and the fact that he was now sitting on the floor; made it pretty clear. He broke his parents’ chair.

He felt a wave of horror rush through him, the only thought that occupied his mind was “Failure”. He shouldn’t have dropped out of dance, he shouldn’t have gained al this weight; now it was too late, he was just a big fat disappointment to everyone who once knew him; this was probably too much for Seokjin too. What kind of person would want a morbidly obese partner? And like a bad ironic joke to Hoseok, he heard the door open.

“Hobi?” The older called loud voice resonating through the house. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want the othe to see him like this; so hurriedly and ungracefully he attempted to stand up, he failed at first and fell with a loud thud making the floor vibrate as an aftermath. The learning footsteps only made the younger more determined as he stood up after a large intake of air and waddlñed towards the door, just at the same time as his boyfriend.

“Oh, Seokjinnie, hi.” His voice sounded raspy and out of breath, and he saw Seokjin had rushed to him with the multiple orders still in his hand.

“Are you ok? I heard something cracking…Why are you in your parents`room?” Hoseok wa squick to overcompensate.

“Oh yeah I was feeling a little nostalgic and I know my mom had a box on her wardrobe with photos and stuff though I couldn’t find it, I just ended up knocking stuff over… Haha you know me I can be a little clumsy!!” Hoseok considered himself a good liar, and it had just been proven with the dark look that took over Seokjin. However, he could guess what was coming and after his insecurity break down, the last thing he wanted to do was eat. But if it got him out of his parents’ bedroom, he’d take it.

“Oh, I bet you looked great, your fat ass squished into that tiny little room.” Hoseok’s eyes widen, they had talked about those types of nicknames during the week, and HOseok was actively in favor of them. But Now, all they did was make his stomach twist in a nauseous nature. He let out an exaggerated whine

“Seokjin, can’t we just go and eat in the living room? I’m too hungry to wait.” It wasn’t really a lie, as much self deprecation he felt. He still wasn’t quite full. He tensed in fear as he felt one of his boyfriend’s long fingers brush against the outside of his mouth, cleaning off a stain of dark chocolate.

“Even after you stuffed your face while I was gone, pig?” Hoseok stood rigid, he felt another large hand press against the top of his stomach pushing him further inside slightly. The younger’s lack of answer only encouraged the other to continue. “Maybe I spoiled you too much, huh fatso? You can’t even wait 40 minutes without food in your mouth. And what’s worse is you probably are hungry. It’s never enough for you, just can’t stop gorging yourself into what you are now, a big, fat pig.”

“Airplane!” Hoseok couldn’t hold the scream that left his lips. The use of the safeword instantly making Seokjin’s eyes softened, he didn’t barge the younger with questions, knowing fully well this would only overwhelm him more. Instead he placed a cold hand on his round heated cheek. Though he remained silent, though his nerves urged him to know and with the most gentle voice he could muster he spoke.

“Seokie, you can tell me.” He pleaded silently although he was desperate. The younger was looking down, ashamed, Seokjin’s caring voice being the only thing that motivated him to tell.

“I broke my parents’ chair.” He stated in a quiet voice. “I sat in it and after a couple of minutes it just fell apart” As he went further explaining the situation he could hear his voice wobbling. “A-and now, I just can’t stop thinking about what would they think, and how disappointed they must feel, they hate me enough knowing that I gave up becoming a dancer. B-but I can’t even imagine what they would think if they saw me like this. Fuck, it must be disgusting even for- for you.” He didn’t dare to look at Seokjin’s reaction, fear shaking him to the point of crying. Though he didn’t realize he was doing so until he felt soft touches over his long ago faded cheekbones, he looked up startled.

“Hoseok.” The older’s tone sounded serious, stern even . “I could never disgusted by you. You know how gorgeous I think you are, any weight, any size. I- I wish I would have been here when it happened, made sure you were comfortable. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He sounded helpless as his dark eyes searched within Hoseok’s.

“It was embarrassing ok? I was already beginning to think you would be grossed out by me.” He said sounding a lot more comfortable in the situation.

“Well, you thought wrong…And…I get if you don’t want to do the stuffing, though you are still having something for dinner.” The older too was regaining his cheeky demeanor as he spoke. And although what happened had left him feeling self conscious, the idea of Seokjin taking care of him with a sesion didn’t seem that bad; the thought of gentle hands and caring words took over his head as he answered almost automatically.

“No no! Actually, I would really like that.” His words came out desesperante at first and then became shy and embarrassed, though his words caused a wide grin to his boyfriend’s face. He passed all the bag orders into one hand, which honestly seemed to be straining his slim fingers and with the other he extended it fo Hoseok to grab. Holding onto it tightly they walked together through the thin corridors into the living room. The younger sitting with a heavy exhale, the loud creak of the couch brought back memories of what had just happened minutes ago., though luckily, Seokjin wa squickly next to him, all orders splayed out on the coffee table a careful hand caressing his chubby cheek.

“What would you like to start with baby?” His voice was so soft, the older clearly understood what Hoseok needed instead of their ordinary rather more intense stuffings. And Hoseok was grateful for that.

“With the chicken.” The younger’s voice came out equally quiet. ANd no more words were needed as Seokjin reached out onto the table grabbing the dish and bringing mouthfuls into his boyfriend’s lips; their pace was slow and steady. The older’s nose brushing against Hoseok’s flabby cheek, nuzzling closer to his side with each bite. It wasn’t long until he finished the plate, lips oily with grease, though Seokjin didn’t seem to mind as he kissed him sweetly.

“You are doing so good already Hobi. So good for me. How’s your stomach feeling?” Hoseok is only able to answer with a low whine, chubby fingers reaching out to the center of his stomach, where his fingers met Seokjin’s. “No,no. Let me take care of you.” And with a tight squeeze to the younger’s hand, he continued rubbing circles all along the top of the massive dome lightly. Hoseok didn’t feel that full, though it helped to take things slowly and gently. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, him leaning back relaxing enough to have his eyes closed as Seokjin’s hands found each their way to knead they doughty flesh. Quiet hums escaped his lips under the pressure of the older’s hands. Until they stopped moving, and suddenly he felt a warm breath against his ear. “What next love?” Hoseok peaked his eyes opened and analized what was before him. Avoiding to look at his boyfriend knowing fully well the rosey tinted his face would have under the use of that type of nicknames.

“Pork please.” His voice was cheerful once again, which only gave Seokjin more motivation to reach out and began feeding him, still slowly yet the atmosphere had changed; the air seemed lighter and it had seemed as if the chair incident had been forgotten. The older leaned in to spread light kisses over all of Hoseok’s soft shoulder; which earnt as a result contagious giggles from the other. Though he was quick to shut up when the food was brought to his mouth. This time, a lot more open than when they had first started the stuffing, the younger hummed in approval; could be because of the taste of the food, or because Seokjin’s kisses to his body had become sloppy and slow. The feeling of tightness was taking over Hoisoek’s expanded middle, ever so slightly he whined and took the plate from Seokjin’s hands, earning a confused glance. “I-I’ll go one, but, rub my stomach?” He didn’t sound desperate though, the way his face scrunched up in pleasure once the older began massaging his dome was enough.

“Of course baby, you know how much I love taking care of you. Seeing you treat yourself, eat to your heart’s content; it makes me so happy Seokie.” Long fingers groped gently the large overhang of Hoseok’s stomach, whilst the other hand rubbed circles all over the middle strongly. Warm words encouraged the younger to speed up his pace as he ate his way through the second dish, finishing it quickly. Seokjin’s eyes were on him constantly, looking mesmerized as he saw his boyfriend eat. “What next sweetheart?” There were only two more dishes left before going into desserts, so there wasn’t that much choice.

“Pass me the stake and I’ll eat the burger last.” And instantly he had the dish placed carefully on the top of his large stomach. He began to eat, his pace even quicker than before, a rush of motivation getting to him. Of course his boyfriend noticed, acknowledging HOseok’’s efforts with a tight squeeze to his thick love handles.

“You are finishing them so fast, ‘m so proud. You are doing amazing baby, enjoying yourself to the fullest, well fed; taken care of, that’s what you deserve. “ Gentle words came along with a burger set in front of him. Hoseok was already feeling properly full by now, pace still fast though not as willingly. He bit into the large burger and moaned around it, the flavour of the burger mixing with the way Seokjin’s strong hands roamed and groped all over him, sending him waves of pleasure. The younger’s eyes were half lidded, his breathing has become heavy and a thin layer of sweat covered his entire mass. Though finishing the burger was becoming hard, his stomach had hardened to its majority which lead to a lethargic lazy pace of eating. He counted the bites left for him to finish it, and once he did, he was saddened at the lost of not only Seokjin’s hands over his body but the warmth of his body next to him. The older was bringing the two desserts that they had ordered onto the couch, occupying the space where Seokjin had formerly been sitting; and with that he happily sat on Hoseok’s lap, slim torso pushing against hard dome earning a loud moan from both of them. “Your stomach is so hard, you ate so much, Seokie. You did so well, how about we mix both the ice cream and the cake for you to drink huh? How does that sound?” Seokjin’s voice remained gentle and caring, HOseok keened at the praise nodding desperately at the amazing suggestion. The older stood up and walked the kitchen where the noise of the blender could be heard. Quickly the weight of his tall boyfriend was again on his laps as he handed him the large glass with a straw, holding it with both hands as he drank it easily. The feeling of cold liquid sliding down his throat, made his entire body relax. Seokjin took both of his free hands as an opportunity hands caressing and pressing onto the places he saw impacted Hoseok the most, the younger had his full attention as he saw his expression change when he pressed his side or the top of his stomach. Though he found the sweet post once he saw Hoseok’s face scrunch up when he groped and jiggled strongly the overhang of his massive stomach. With both hands at the bottom, he leaned down and began to spread kisses all over the clothed dome, in between kisses soft caring murmurs made their way past Seokjin’s full lips. “So good Hobi, so good for me. You are so beautiful, so stunning.” Hoseok’s face heated up at the encouraging words, motivating him to finish his dessert even though he felt to his limit. With a big intake of air, he swallowed what was left of his milkshake; he finished and his stomach was throbbing, making him scrunch his face up in pain and not pleasure. Though no words were needed as Seokjin’s expert hands pushed his sides inwards with slight strength, leaning in for his boyfriends chocolate lips, the sweet taste of what he had just eaten taking over his own mouth. Their kiss started quick and chaste but grew sloppy and slow, with the only interventions being the older praise.

“You did amazing Hoseok, I’m so proud of you. My beautiful, boyfriend, did so good, so full and happy just for me…We’ll have to get them a new chair though.”

#annon #request #2seok #bts chubby #bts feederism #bts fat #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #feedee hoseok #feedee hobi #feedee jhope #feeder seokjin #feeder jin #seokseok

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chittaphonsicecream · 6 years

Text

blackmail: a wonwoo hacker!au

synopsis: you’ve dumped your ex boyfriend and blocked him on everything, but you’re pretty sure he’s been logging into your social media accounts and stalking you. your best friend suggests that you go to the IT nerds at school and ask for some help in figuring out who’s watching you. you enlist jeon wonwoo’s help in stopping him and wreaking a little bit of havoc of your own. female reader x wonwoo ft kaistal bc I miss them

word count: 6.4k (the ending is kinda rushed bc i was lowkey sick of writing)

a/n: this takes place in an american college:) so basically… this is based on something that happened to me (the stalking part). wonwoo doesn’t get introduced for a while but when he does it’s worth it. it’s really angsty and slow but I hope you enjoy.

“Look, I think we’re better apart,” you said, staring your boyfriend directly in the eyes.

“I don’t agree,” he said. He grabbed your hand a little too forcefully. “You are the only one for me.”

“Jason…” you said. You took a deep sigh and looked at him. “I’ve been telling you for the past hour, we are over.”

“No, you can’t do this,” he said. “Yes, yes, I can,” you said. “You need to leave.”

“So the past nine months have been a lie?”

“No, the past nine months have been you manipulating me into thinking that I loved you and that you’re as good as it gets,” you deadpanned. “Jason, you need to leave. Now.”

“No!” he yelled. “There’s nobody like you, _____.”

“Yes, there is. I’m not special. Now get out before I call the police,” you threatened. “You’ve wasted nine months of my life, don’t waste another minute.”

“You need professional help, you know that, right?” questioned Jason. “You’re the most heartless, uncaring bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hm, sucks for you,” you said. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment before Krystal comes home.”

“Fine, but we’re not done talking,” he said. “We’ll make it through this.”

“I really don’t think so,” you replied as you pushed him out of your apartment and slammed the door in his face.

Knowing what Jason could be like, you quickly locked your doors and waited in the farthest room in your apartment. He had been manipulating you for as long as you could remember, convincing you that you were happiest with him when really he was isolating you from the rest of your friends and family. You hadn’t even liked him; he just continually told you that he liked you until you caved in and consented to being his girlfriend. In reality, he was one of the worst people you knew.

Following the breakup, he relentlessly tried to contact you and become your friend. He even went as far as to send his older brother’s ex girlfriend, a good friend of yours, to tell you how much he missed you and how unhappy he was without you. She warned you heavily to stay away from him and his entire family.

After you blocked Jason and cut him off completely, you began to adjust back to your normal life. You were becoming happier, more outgoing, and more of who you used to be. Everyone in your life noticed the positivity.

Chatting over bowls of cereal, you and Krystal were sitting at your small kitchen table. You opened up your Snapchat to find yourself logged out, which could mean one of two things: either Snapchat was being its typical glitchy self or someone else had logged into your account. The only person who knew your password was Krystal.

“Hey, Krystal, did you log into my Snap?” you asked.

“No, why?” she replied.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “It must be glitching or something.”

“Okay,” she said. “Hey, are you still friends with Jason’s cousin?”

“Which one?”

“The one that introduced the two of you.”

“Oh, Hailey. Yeah, but we’re not as close as we were when Jason and I were just friends. And then we kind of drifted when I dumped him and now we hardly see or talk to each other.”

“I didn’t care that much,” laughed Krystal. “I was just wondering why your Instagram profile pic has her in it now.”

“I didn’t change it,” you said.

“Yeah, you did.” Krystal held up her phone to your face to show a picture of you and Hailey, clearly happy. It was a photo taken during the camping trip where you and Jason became close.

“I don’t remember changing it.” You grabbed her phone and took a closer look. You had more followers than you remembered, too, and you were private. “Maybe I did it when I was falling asleep last night.”

“I think it’s pretty new,” she said, “and you do weird stuff when you’re tired, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled in reply.

Over the next few months, small but strange things continued happening on your social media. Snapchats had been opened that you couldn’t recall seeing, follow requests that you never saw were accepted, direct messages were opened by someone other than you, posts you never saw were liked, stories you never viewed were watched, and random people were added to your Snapchat. Again, you didn’t think much of it.

After a few months of avoiding Hailey and discussing the breakup, you finally met up with her for lunch. She was desperate to catch up with you, especially after you had distanced yourself so severely from her. At one point she had been your best friend, but now the two of you were more like strangers.

The small restaurant was a nice little meeting place, and you arrived a few minutes early to make sure that your reservation was claimed. It was commonplace for Hailey to arrive rather late, from five minutes to forty-five minutes. After you ordered drinks for the both of you, she arrived.

“Sorry for being so late,” she apologized profusely.

“Hailey, you’re always late,” you laughed. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to see how you’ve been holding up,” she offered. “You know, our whole family really believed that you and Jason would get married. We’d never seen him like the way he was with you.”

“The way he was with me was constantly manipulating me and making my life toxic,” you spat. “Hailey, I didn’t come here so you could talk me into getting back together with Jason.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I thought it was worth a shot.”

“A shot that’ll ruin our friendship permanently. He’s an awful person. I don’t hate people, but I hate him,” you deadpanned. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”

“Alexa had her second kid,” Hailey offered, “and Nick is finally engaged to Alondra.”

Hailey went on a tangent about her older siblings and their success before circling back around to what she really wanted to talk about.

“And I’m dating someone, too,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to mention anything since your past relationship was so bad.”

You laughed. “I’m not that terrible of a person. I can be happy for someone else, you know?”

“Okay,” smiled Hailey. “He’s going to Cozumel with my family and me next week. The whole crew is going, Alexa and her family, Nick and his fiance, and Jason’s family. Jason’s sister Madison is already pregnant and they wanted to get in a trip before the baby’s born.”

“They’ve been married for six months!” you exclaimed. “I was Jason’s date to the wedding. That’s…”

“An accident?” offered Hailey. “I think so, but she and Chad deny it.”

“Whatever makes them feel better,” you said.

“Yeah.” She took a sip of her drink. “Do you think I’m being too forward by bringing my boyfriend on a family trip? It’s only been a few months.”

“At least you’ll know soon whether this relationship is going to work.” It was meant to be a joke, but Hailey took it seriously. The conversation was becoming uncomfortable, forced with the continuous mention of Jason, so finally you excused yourself, left a twenty dollar bill on the table, and headed home.

The next week, strange things continued to happen on your social media. Knowing you, you continued to ignore it and think nothing of it. Finally, as you opened up your Instagram, you got a strange notification.

We detected an unusual login attempt. iOS | Jun 27, 6:10 AM | Cozumel, Mexico

Your heartbeat soared as you realized what this could mean. Tears welled up in your eyes as you quickly texted Hailey.

hey, are you in cozumel?

yeah, we landed a little before 6 this morning. why?

nothing. jason flew with you?

yes what’s wrong

nothing don’t worry

You ran to the bathroom where Krystal was getting ready for the day and started banging on the door. “Krystal!” you shouted. “Krystal, open the door!” You were crying and sat on the floor of the hallway until Krystal opened the door.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Jason has been logging into my accounts all this time. You know that weird stuff that was constantly happening on my accounts? It was him.”

“How?”

“I don’t know… All of my passwords are pretty difficult.”

“Okay, well, let’s start with changing your passwords.” Krystal paused for a second, and then spoke again. “How do you know it’s him?”

“Who else would be stalking my accounts? I’m not interesting. I blocked him on everything, and then this morning I get a notification that someone in Cozumel has been logging into my account. And you know who flew into Cozumel this morning? Jason.”

“Text him,” Krystal said. “See if he’ll say he’s been logging into your accounts.”

jason

wow didn’t expect to hear from you anytime soon

yeah ik

u feeling lonely i guess? ;)

aw babe

don’t aw babe me why have you been logging into my social media

I havent??

yes you fucking have leave me the fuck alone

no i havent

I got a notification saying someone in cozumel has been logging into my accounts and ik weird shit has been going down in my account this is illegal

theres lots of people in cozumel what if it wasnt me

im going to the police

you have no proof that its me

ill find a way to get proof leave me tf alone stay out of my accounts

Krystal snatched your phone from your hands. “I don’t really think we can do anything if he denies it,” she sighed. Her eyes lit up. “I know some kids in the IT department of school. I bet they’d help.” She pulled you up from off the floor. “Get ready, let’s go talk to them.”

You dressed quickly because the sooner you met with the IT kids, the sooner you could figure out who had truly been stalking you. As soon as you were ready, you grabbed Krystal’s arm and started jogging towards the campus. She had dressed well, like always, but you were comfortable and ready to run.

After a few minutes of running, you finally arrived at the university’s tech department. Krystal was friends with most everybody, so she showed you where the IT kids could be found. She knocked quietly on the door after you had ran up the stairs to the entrance.

“Come in,” someone called from the other side.

“Hey, guys,” Krystal said as she opened up the door. “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” one of the boys asked. There was only one girl, and she was quietly working away at her computer, headphones in ears.

“_____, tell them what’s been happening,” she said as she pushed you towards them.

You began your long tale of your toxic relationship, the messy breakup, the strange social media occurrences, and finally, that morning’s notification.

“I’d recommend talking to Wonwoo, the boy over there,” said the boy that Krystal knew. “He’s good with that stuff. Doesn’t get caught, either.”

“Okay, thank you,” you said. You walked over to the tall, dark haired boy with glasses. “Hi,” you said softly. “I need you to do me a favor. I’ll literally do anything for it.” You paused. “Well, not anything.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to find out who has been logging into my Instagram accounts. You’re a hacker, right?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “but I’m more of a vigilante hacker. I don’t just hack to hack.”

“Well, I think you’ll be intrigued by what I’m going to tell you,” you replied hopefully. You began your spiel once more, and by the end, Wonwoo had his chin in his hands and was staring at you intently.

“It’ll take me maybe ten minutes to figure out if he’s been logging into your account, but from the looks of it, he definitely has,” Wonwoo said. “But this isn’t my style. My style is more messing with people who did bad things on the internet.”

“Okay, but will you see if it’s even him? I think it is but can you make sure anyway?” you asked.

“Yeah, give me a few.” Wonwoo turned to his computer and left you alone

“Hey, _____,” Krystal called from across the room. “I’m heading home. I don’t want to be here too long. Are you okay on your own?”

“I’m fine,” you replied as you took a seat next to Wonwoo and watched him type rapidly. “You don’t mind if I stay with you, do you?”

“No, I really don’t.” Wonwoo didn’t even look up from his computer as he kept typing. After a few minutes, he came up empty handed. He looked at you confusedly. “His phone is heavily protected. I don’t know what kind of software this person has installed, but I can’t access it. All I can access is the Apple ID of the person that owns the phone, and it’s a bunch of random numbers and letters. I can try hacking into that, but I don’t think it’s going to lead anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean your ex-boyfriend is either incredibly clever or he has someone else doing the dirty work for him,” Wonwoo said.

“He’s really smart. Tech savvy.”

“Then he knows what he’s doing.” Wonwoo looked back at the screen and then to you. “I think I can figure out if it’s him, but it’ll take a solid half hour. I have to hack into the account and then see all of the phones and devices the accounts have been linked to and see if any of them belong to him. You should go get food or something while I do this; it might be a while.”

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll bring something back for you. What do you want?”

“How about burgers?” he asked.

“I’ll be back soon. You have my number now, so text me what you want,” you said with a smile. Wonwoo nodded before pulling out his phone and sending you his order.

After about fifteen minutes, you were back with burgers. Wonwoo was spinning around in his chair and smiled at you. “It’s him. That Jason guy, it’s him.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“I know you want to go to the police, but I want to have a little fun,” Wonwoo said. “This is my speciality of sorts.”

“But what if you get caught?” you asked.

“I won’t.” He took his burger from you. “Consider this payment for my deeds,” he said with a wink.

“I don’t know if I want you to mess with him. He’s a little psycho.”

“He’s not just a little psycho, he’s a lot psycho.” Wonwoo smiled at you softly. “Look, ____, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. But I think you want this guy to get a taste of his own medicine.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “But what could we possibly do to him?”

“I have some ideas, but you’ll have to consent. And they can be pretty shady, but I promise you, we won’t get caught,” Wonwoo said.

“What are your ideas?” you asked.

“If you give me your phone, I can retrieve every conversation the two of you have ever had. The embarrassing, the sweet, the manipulative, everything. Blackmail him with his own nudes? Done. Blackmail him with the embarrassing, loving, manipulative things he told you? Done. He won’t mess with you ever again, not as long as you’ve got this on your side.”

You stared at him. His proposal was intriguing to say the least. You knew Krystal would approve, but you also knew that he would access a lot of vulnerable things about you. You had some rather revealing photos in there, and while that did bother you, it didn’t bother you as much as the awkward and embarrassing photos you sent or the things you had confided in Jason. But you knew that he may never stop unless you made him stop, and you’d rather it be in your hands than in the authority’s hands. You looked at him, bit your lip, and then agreed.

“You promise you won’t judge me?” you asked.

“I promise,” replied Wonwoo softly. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze to reassure you. “You’re a good person. I can tell by just how you are. Texts between some manipulator and you aren’t going to make me change my mind.”

“Okay.” You handed him the phone. “But can you walk me home and then take my phone? I don’t want to be without my phone in the city.”

“Sure,” he said. He began packing up his things and then wrapped an arm around you. “It’s going to be fine. I’m good at what I do, and I don’t care about what you said. I only care about what he said.” He squeezed your shoulder gently. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not him.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you laughed as you detached yourself from him. “I know you’re not him.”

“Okay, good.” The two of you began the short walk from the university, through a bit of town, to your apartment. Once you neared your apartment, you reluctantly placed your phone in his palm.

“When will you be back?” you asked. “I kinda need my phone back.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow, how about that?”

“Okay.”

“We can go through what you think would affect him most tomorrow. I’ll just download it all to my laptop. Since you won’t have your phone, just expect me to come over sometime between noon and one, okay? I have some actually IT work to do tomorrow morning but I’ll just have it download while I sleep tonight.”

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks for doing this for me.”

“I’m an internet vigilante. It’s what I do,” responded Wonwoo with a wink. “See you around, ______.”

He watched as you entered your apartment building and stayed until he saw that you were safely inside. Once you were back inside your apartment, Krystal jumped to ask questions.

“What’d they find out?” she asked.

“He’s been stalking me,” you said shakily.

“Well, are you going to report it to the police or what?” she asked, playing with her fingers.

“Actually… about that,” you began, “I’m not going to the police.”

“Are you stupid?”

“Well, Wonwoo-”

“Wonwoo, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I literally just met him.”

“Oh, really? Then why’d he walk you home? And stay until he knew you were in the building?”

“Shut up,” you replied quickly. “We’re going to give Jason a taste of his own medicine. Wonwoo’s keeping my phone for the night to download everything I had regarding Jason and to retrieve all of the old messages and stuff and then he’s gonna… well… blackmail him, I guess.”

“No way,” laughed Krystal. “You’re blackmailing the psycho? I didn’t realize you were that ballsy.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” you clarified. “Wonwoo says he’s like some internet vigilante or something and it’s similar to stuff he always does.”

“Wait, so he walked you home because?”

“He needed to take my phone but I didn’t want to go home without it. And I think he’s honestly a little afraid for me.”

“He’s nice. Kinda quiet but nice.”

“Quiet?”

“Yeah. He’s said maybe ten words total to me.”

“We spoke a lot.”

“Maybe he likes you better than me.”

“Maybe.”

“Well,” Krystal said while lightly punching your arm, “aren’t you afraid of what Wonwoo is going to find on your phone?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you responded. “All that matters is that Jason leaves me alone. And I don’t think he’ll care much anyway. He knows what he’s seen when he’s being a vigilante or whatever.”

“Yeah, sure,” Krystal said sarcastically. “Whatever. You know what I think you should do? Get drunk.”

“I’m not going to get drunk,” you laughed. “I think I’m just going to sleep until tomorrow morning. I don’t want to think about this.”

“It’s only noon.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to deal with this.”

“You don’t want to deal with this stalker drama or you don’t want to deal with knowing Wonwoo will go through everything on your phone?” suggested Krystal.

“Shut up,” you said. “For real, I’m going to sleep.”

You headed to your room and decided to sleep for the rest of the day. You finally woke up around two am after hours upon hours of sleep. Krystal was still awake, and she had her boyfriend Kai over. They were talking on the couch when you came out.

“Hey, guys,” you said with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be over, Kai.”

“Krystal was just telling me the rundown on your stalker,” explained Kai.

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Yeah.”

“Jason will get what’s coming to him. If not now, when he’s thirty-five and his future wife leaves him,” he laughed.

“Kai, that’s rude,” Krystal said.

“Okay and?”

Krystal moved a little closer to Kai and smiled. It made you miss the days of having a boyfriend, but you knew that missing Jason was detrimental to yourself.

“So are you really having some hacker kid go through all the stuff on your phone just to blackmail Jason? Someone you don’t know?”

“At this point, nothing is really worse than knowing Jason wasn’t leaving me alone, so yeah, I am,” you replied. “He’s gonna be over around noon, by the way.”

“I’m gonna be out,” Krystal said.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Kai, can I come over to yours?”

“Sure, babe.”

“You just did that so Wonwoo and I would be alone!”

“Also so I won’t have to see Jason’s nudes. I know that Wonwoo will be able to dig some up.”

“Fine.”

“Well, it’s two in the morning and I’ve got to be up at six, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Krystal said. “C’mon, Kai, we’re going to bed.”

You watched Kai and Krystal leave the room and decided to clean the small apartment. By the time you were finished, the sun was starting to rise and Krystal would be waking up soon to head to the gym for her early morning workouts. Once Krystal was awake, she made some food for the both of you.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she reassured you. “Jason will get whatever’s coming. Don’t worry about it. And you should probably catch a few hours of sleep before Wonwoo comes over, too.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go to sleep in a few.”

A few hours later, you were awoken with the sound of Kai attempting to make Krystal a proper breakfast. It was nine in the morning, and you rolled back over only to be bombarded by the pair running into your room with sad looking pancakes.

“Cheer up!” Krystal said. “Just because you have a psycho manipulative stalker ex-boyfriend doesn’t mean you get to act like the world is ending!”

“I think it does mean I get to act like the world is ending,” you replied.

“I tried really hard to make these,” Kai said, shoving the plate in your face. “Come out to the kitchen and eat them, please.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. You got up and followed Kai to the kitchen table. His pancakes weren’t too bad, but they definitely not good. Once you took a bite and gave them a thumbs up, Kai backed off.

“I’ve got to get to work,” he said. “See ya later, guys. I left my keys to my apartment on your nightstand if you still want to go over there when Wonwoo’s here.”

Krystal nodded and smiled at him before leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Okay, be safe.”

The next few hours passed rather quickly, with Krystal running around doing random things and you eating more food than you probably should. Before you knew it, Krystal had left to Kai’s and you were alone, waiting for Wonwoo’s arrival.

Just before noon, there was a knock at the door. You opened it quickly, and there was your expected guest. He had takeout in one hand and your phone in the other.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said shyly. “I thought it would be good to have lunch since…”

“Oh, thank you!” you replied, taking it from him. You grabbed chopsticks and you both settled down on the couch. There was a gap between the two of you and an awkward silence filled the room. Finally, Wonwoo cleared his throat.

“You know, I don’t think much different of you,” he said quietly. “Except that you’re maybe kinda dumb.”

“I’m dumb?” you questioned.

“Yeah, you’re dumb.” He chuckled softly to himself.

“Why?”

“Because you had barely started texting this guy and you told him everything about yourself. And I mean everything. I think I know you better than I know my brother, now.”

“I don’t know why I did it. I guess he made me feel important.” You sighed and bit your lip before looking up at Wonwoo. “We can see how well that turned out.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll get him back,” Wonwoo reassured you.

“I honestly thought it was love at first sight. Or something of the sort. I just saw him and knew ‘you’re going to be important in my life.’”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I think you’ve got to know them really well before you can love them,” he said. “Anyway, let’s choose what we want to get started with.”

He pulled out his laptop and opened it up to reveal a file containing every interaction you had with Jason on your phone. “Do you want to start small or start big?”

“Start big,” you said.

“Let’s start with the nudes, then,” he said. “Here’s my idea, but if you don’t like it, we won’t do it.” You nodded in response. “Okay. I have a program on here that creates a protected fake phone number. Almost like a prepaid that you can’t pinpoint. But there actually is no number that exists. It’ll just show up as unknown. I’ll begin sending him pictures he sent you or tell him his own secrets. Just to mess with his mind a little bit, and after that, we’ll tell him to stay away from girls or we’ll leak it all on the internet.”

“Will you really?”

“No, of course not. I’m not that terrible of a person.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “But if it gets shady at any moment, we’re stopping the whole thing.”

“Not to be rude, but it’s already shady.”

“Fine. If it get shadier.”

He nodded and began typing rapidly on his computer until he was at the program that allowed for him to send the messages. He went into the file where he had stored everything from your phone and began clicking until he got to the bad stuff: the pictures.

“Hey, Wonwoo, I have a question,” you said softly. He nodded in reply. “Did you by any chance… see any of me?”

Wonwoo began coughing and refused to make eye contact with you. His cheeks were becoming rosy, and he looked at you. “Yeah. But don’t worry about it. I’m not like that, I swear. I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”

It was your turn to be uncomfortable. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? How old are you?”

“I’m almost twenty-two…”

“Why not? You seem completely normal. If a psycho like Jason could get a girlfriend, you easily could.”

“But a psycho like your ex also goes out and talks to people. This… this is my life. I don’t talk to people unless it’s over the computer. How am I supposed to meet someone?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of online dating?”

“God, I’m not that pathetic.”

The computer pinged, and you both turned to look at it. Jason had replied.

who is this

IT DOESN’T MATTER. YOU’LL NEVER FIND ME ANYWAY

who tf is this i swear to god i will find you and beat your ass

YOU MIGHT BE SMART BUT I AM SMARTER.

how did you get that picture of my dick

I HAVE MORE

who is giving this to you

NO ONE OF ANY IMPORTANCE. STAY AWAY FROM ________ OR I’LL LEAK THEM

nice try

Wonwoo looked at you expectantly. “What do you want to do?”

“Keep it up. Send in more.”

image: sent

wtf

I HAVE MORE

leave me alone

NOT UNTIL YOU LEAVE _______ ALONE

who are you you’re not her she’s above this

IT ISN’T RELEVANT

ok fine but ur fucking weird

LEAVE ________ ALONE

nah bro. I gotta have fun in mexico with my fam but this conversation isnt over be back in two hours

“Now all we can do is wait,” he said.

“I don’t know why he’s so dumb. If someone was blackmailing me, I’d just stop whatever I was doing.”

“Not to be rude, but apparently you don’t have good taste in intelligent men. Or in men in general.”

“You’re kinda rude, you know that?”

“I’m more socially awkward than rude. It’s usually pretty hard for me to talk to someone like we are now.”

“Aren’t I special?”

“Yeah, actually, you kinda are.”

“Aw, you say I have shit taste in men and then tell me I’m special. My heart is melting,” you deadpanned.

“It’s true. This guy doesn’t have common sense, sends shitty dick pics, treats you like shit, and did I mention that he’s also not that much of a looker?”

“You think I don’t know that he’s a terrible, ugly, dumb person?”

“I think you’re way out of his league.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. You felt your face flush but refused to look at him. “Can we talk about anything else? You know basically everything about me; it’s my turn to know everything about you.”

In most cases, Wonwoo would’ve objected completely. This wasn’t comfortable for him, it wasn’t fun, either. But when it came to you, he was okay with it. You were open about yourself with him, so he didn’t see any reason not to be open with you. Besides, he’d practically seen you naked at this point, so he knew you couldn’t judge him.

The conversation flowed easily, the both of you talking about your family, your lives before college, the college experience, your friends, your interests, the things that made you happy, the things that made you cry. With every sentence exchanged, you felt a stronger connection to Wonwoo. This time when you felt that he was going to be important in your life, you knew that it wasn’t your brain being dumb and desperate. It was honest, and it was real.

Before the either of you realized it, the two hours were up and Jason had replied. Again, it was something stupid.

I’m not fucking dumb. I know how to hack too. I swear on my life that i will find out whoever you are. you can’t hide from me

This time Wonwoo looked genuinely concerned. He turned to you and asked, “Do you think he actually is good enough to find me?”

“Why are you asking me!” you exclaimed. “You told me we wouldn’t be caught. I swear to god, Wonwoo, if we get caught, I’m going to beat you up.”

“I know, but he seems smart enough technologically. And if he knows people…”

“The only people he knows that are into IT are the people at this school. And anybody that could help him already knows how insane he is, so I think we’re going to be fine.”

“Okay,” he said as he processed what to do next. “Also, for the record, I don’t think you could beat me up.”

“You’re a literal string bean. I probably weigh way more than you. Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you can’t get your ass whooped.”

Wonwoo laughed. “I’m starting to really like you,” he blurted. His eyes widened as you looked up at him. “As a friend, of course.”

“Of course.” You took the laptop from hi shands and began typing a message to Jason yourself in an attempt to ease the awkwardness of the situation.

I DON’T THINK YOU’LL BE ABLE TO FIND ME, BUT YOU CAN TRY. DON’T FORGET, I HAVE MORE. I CAN AND WILL USE IT AGAINST YOU IF YOU DON’T TURN YOURSELF IN FOR MANIPULATING, ABUSING, AND STALKING _______.

“Is that really going to work?” asked Wonwoo.

“Of course not,” you laughed. “He’s got his head up his ass. But it will let him know that we’re serious, and when people make it repeatedly obvious that something really bothers them, he stops. But it takes a long time. I don’t know how long you’ll have to do it.”

“He’s such a jerk. I can’t believe you dated him.”

“I didn’t just date him. I told the boy I loved him. Even worse, I slept with him!”

“Spare me the details,” laughed Wonwoo. “What do you want to do now?”

“I think that we’ll just have to top for now. But if I were you, I’d send him one embarrassing secret or picture a day. Don’t say anything, just send it so he knows that it’s you. And then we can meet up sometime soon and actually talk and mess with him.”

“Okay,” he said. “That’ll work. I’ll text you whatever I send.”

“Please don’t,” you said. “I never want to see his nudes ever again. Or his face. Or a drunken video of him professing his love to me.”

“Okay then. I’ll text you when I send him something.”

“Much better.”

“Well, I should get going now,” Wonwoo said quietly. “I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks for this,” you said, “and the takeout.”

“My pleasure.”

As Wonwoo left the apartment, you began to wonder what this all meant. He couldn’t like you, could he? He didn’t believe in loving right away, but did that spread to liking? You waited until Krystal got home to discuss it. She was far better versed in this area and would be able to give you good advice. Krystal texted you around six saying that she was finally leaving Kai’s since Taemin would be back from vacation and that she was heading home. You were waiting for her in the living room, and the moment she walked through the door, you began blurting out everything that happened.

“Oh my god, does Jeon Wonwoo have a crush on the ______ ______?” asked Krystal.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you!” you replied.

“I think he does!” Krystal said. “Actually, I know he does. Keep up the good work, tiger.” She winked at you and walked away.

“Wait!” you called out. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Wonwoo’s… he’s quiet, shy. You’re going to have to take this slow.”

“Okay,” you said. “I think I am more than capable of doing that.”

The weeks went by of blink-and-you-miss-it flirting over text messages with Wonwoo. The texts were pretty mundane, but you had found yourself loving every time your phone pinged with a notification from Wonwoo. You met up once a week to message Jason together, and each time something would happen. The brush of fingertips, an arm around a shoulder, a shared laugh, thighs touching while you sat. Nothing about what the two of you had was platonic.

After a few days, Wonwoo asked you two to meet up again. This time, it was at his apartment rather than yours. Krystal and Kai were throwing a small party, and Wonwoo didn’t want to be there, so you obliged to meeting with him at his home.

Wonwoo’s apartment was vintage, beige, and filled with things you never would’ve imagined it to be. There were books everywhere, a record player, and a leather sofa that looked straight out of a fifties movie.

“So you know we’re pretty close to cracking him,” Wonwoo said. “I mean, did you see those last messages? He sounded like he was going to have an emotional breakdown.”

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Wonwoo, noticing the hesitation in your voice and attitude.

“No, no,” you said. “I just wonder if I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I any better than him by blackmailing him?”

Wonwoo was at a loss for words. He looked at you, and then back at the ground. “I honestly don’t know” was his response. He took your hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Maybe what we did was wrong, but he also did something wrong.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, Wonwoo,” you replied. “I feel like a terrible person. I know I hate Jason, but I also know I’m better than this.”

“Well, we can stop,” he said. “We’ll stop right now.”

Wonwoo pulled out his laptop and opened the program he had been using to communicate with Jason.

I’VE DECIDED TO LET YOU BE. WHAT I AM DOING TO YOU IS JUST AS BAD AS WHAT YOU DID TO ______.

nah its worse fuck u tho

GOODBYE

ya know idk u but u got balls. ______ is lucky to have u ik im psycho when it comes to her but i want her to have the best. I mean the best is me but u seem pretty good too

GOODBYE

You looked up shyly at Wonwoo. “So he thinks you’re my boyfriend, huh?”

“I mean, I’ve been at it for weeks. Almost two months, even,” he said.

“Wonwoo,” you said, getting up. “I think I should go.”

“Why?”

“Well, we did what we meant to do. Blackmail Jason, and now it’s over, so I should go.”

Wonwoo stood up with you. “Okay.” He walked you to the door and watched you put on your shoes before he did the unthinkable. He grabbed you by the arm, pulled you up to him, and placed his mouth on yours. It’s sweet, but it’s short lived because Wonwoo immediately pulled away to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Instead, you just laugh, and you pull him down to you. Suddenly, your arms are around his neck and his hands are in your hair and you are feeling everything and nothing at the same time. And then you’re laughing, and he’s laughing, and you pull away to catch your breath.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s…”

“That’s what?”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, pulling him in for a hug. He buried his face in your hair and then lifted your chin up for one more kiss.

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asked.

“I’m sure I want to stay.”

#wonwoo #seventeen #imagines #fic #fanfic #scenario #au #hacker #kpop #svt #jeon wonwoo

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kpopscenariosblog · 6 years

Text

A Past In The Nile: Part 2

Jungkook x Reader

Ancient Egypt au, mystery au, Fantasy au

Word count: 2,256

Summary: Fresh out of high school you go on a trip to Egypt with your friend just to witness an ancient corpse be brought back to life.

1 | 2 | 3 |

You were on your way into the city, earlier you declared that you wanted to go home as soon as possible and refused to stay in the hot sandy place after what had just happened. Your entire being was shocked from the realization that all of the crazy things going on were a reality and not just something pulled out of a mythology book or some old folk lore story waiting to be told. It was all real.

Jimin tried his best to convince you to stay adding a “No matter where you go, he will always find you.” But you weren’t having any of it. And of course someone had to pry Jungkook away from you, well maybe more than just one person, but in the end the mission was a success.

Jin placed down your luggages in the hotel room, with a grunt

“Okay, so your all set and your flight leaves tomorrow at 12:00.”

“Thanks Jin. I really appreciate it.”

“It was no problem, have a safe trip.”

You bid Jin goodbye, making sure that the door was closed completely. You were extremely thankful to him for taking the time to get you all settled and ready to fly home instead of you having to do it all by yourself. You turned around and instantly jumped out of your skin at the intruder standing in front of the window facing you with a curious expression adorning his features. How the hell did Jungkook get into your room? You just booked the room and it took you hours to get into the city from the camping site so how did he get here so fast?

Jungkook began to take small steps towards you as your feet stayed rooted to floor. Your mind blanked and you didn’t know what to do as the boy came closer and closer.

“(y/n), my love, Why have you been trying so hard to stay astray from me?”

He spoke softly and you could feel his warm breath on your skin causing your body to break out into goose bumps. You flicked your head up to look into his eyes, registering his question, but still trying to piece together how he got here in the first place. You opened your mouth and closed it not a second later, there was no way that you could answer his question. It was meant for the you in the pass from a few thousand years ago and this was a whole new different you framed from things of the present.

“Have I done something wrong?” He asked, his eyes trained on you, you shook your head

“You frighten me.....I-I mean you were just dead and now your here alive and breathing.” you took in a deep breathe “That is nowhere near normal.”

“Do you wish not to see me because of that. It is your culture, you’ve witnessed these things many times before, you grew up around these happenings.”

“NO I HAVE NOT JUNGKOOK......... maybe in a past life but in this life time I have not.” you met his eyes with a sorrowful look as he stared at you in confusion “I’m sorry Jungkook but I am not the Bektamun that you once knew.”

“But you were supposed to be mummified with me, we were to awake together. Something is not right, if you have been born again then that shall mean that.” Jungkook rambled on before pausing as sudden realization struck him, his breathing began to grow loud and uneven, his eyes holding strong emotion

“NO, NO, IT CAN’T BE.” wrapping you into his arms he let out an endless string of apologies, the panic rising in his voice. For some odd reason the emotion that he was portraying began to seep into you. Warm salty droplets of tears ran down your face, as you felt apologetic also, as if you had betrayed him and were terribly sorry. But for what? You returned his embrace softly sobbing into his chest and as time passed by the both of you calmed down. Jungkook pulled back staring deep into your eyes for a few minutes before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Im sorry (y/n).”

You opened your eyes and when you did he was gone. Great not only have you witnesses a bad man come back to life, who you apparently have a history with, but the dead man has some type of teleportation powers. You climbed up onto your bed, laying down to where you faced the ceiling, stuck in deep thought.

A lanky boy with longer legs than yours at the time, who could be no older than twelve was chasing after you and you giggled as you ran away from him, trying your best not to get caught. Eventually you lost sight of the boy and decided to hide behind on of the big wooden crates filled with fruit, silently you let soft chuckles slip past your lips as you waited for the boy to walk past your hiding spot “There you are” you heard from behind you and turned to be met with the same boy that was chasing after you. Letting out a loud squeal, you hop up and begin to dart away from the boy. Not even a minute passed before almost large arms wrap around your waist, causing you to howl out in laughter

“Gotcha (y/n).” was what the boy called out as you went limp in his arms

“Ahh Taehyung, you caught me.” Taehyung beamed “Now, for my reward?”

“Oh, right” you leaned down and gave the boy a peck on the cheek, which caused the him to flush red and smile uncontrollably

“ (Y/N)!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG!!!!.” The both of you looked up in the direction in which the voice came from. A girl who appeared to be in her teens ran up to the both of you “(y/n), your parents have requested to see the both of you now.”

You turn to Taehyung and give a smirk before sprinting off towards your parents “LAST ONE THERE HAS TO GIVE THE WINNER A PIGGY BACK RIDE.”

“HEY, NO FAIR.”

You sat at an isolated table located in the far back of the library, books revolving around ancient Egypt and its traditions splayed out all over the table. You were trying your best to piece together what was going on in your life at this point in time but every time you did, you would wind up even more confused than you were before. It had been a week since you last seen your ‘mummy lover’ but instead of the relief that you initially thought you would feel you for some odd reason felt disappointed, you were thirsty for knowledge and you felt as if something extreme was missing.

You huffed in irritation no matter how many times you dived in to the endless sea of books in search for information you would always come to shore lacking the material that you were searching for. You knew that you wouldn’t find anything in the books or the internet for that matter, which is what led you to where you were right now, standing in front of Park Jimin’s door. Since the incident in Egypt you tried your best to to avoid the soft eyed guy but in the end you knew that you would run back to confide in the man, He was always there treating and caring for you as if you were his younger sister. On the first knock the door swung open and you immediately jumped into jimin’s arms, The blonde haired boy holds you into a hold, giving a small chuckle.

“Ahh (y/n), how have you been?”

“Jimin I wanna know whats going on, i’m so confused and it’s killing me.”

Jimin hands you a glass of water as you sit down on the couch to face him on the couch across from you. His home was very cozy the ice grey walls trimmed in mocha giving the place a warm feeling while also being very aesthetic. This matched hime perfectly.

“Well I don’t know what exactly happened with you and Jungkook but from what I do know is that you were supposed the mummified with him and the both of you were to awake together other than that the rest is to your memories, Have they started yet?”

“They started in Egypt. But how is this whole situation even possible?”

“Look (y/n), I know this is a lot to take in.” Jimin started, shifted his position from leaning back on the couch to lean forward and continued “We are what most people would call mythical, we’re human but not quite.”

your mouth gaped “You too?” He nodded “I promise once all of the memories come everything will start making sense, just give it time-”

“(y/n)?” Jungkook calls out walking towards both you and jimin to join you in the cozy living room. You inwardly start to panic, butterflies going crazy in your stomach as your chest tightens, you purse your lips and try to calm yourself down. You were not ready to face him yet. Your breathe starts to come out ragged and when did the room get so hot? The room starts to spin, the next emotion you feel is fear, it’s shortly lived but its still there and next theres anger, anger at yourself for reacting like this. You could faintly hear some are you okays and callings of your name being thrown around but you were to immersed in your whirlwind of emotions to notice.

An ear piercing scream shoots throughout the room, bouncing off of the walls and reverberating around the room. White clouds your vision before your vision refocuses and as soon as you come back to your senses you see that everything in the room is floating above the ground your crouched on the floor while Jimin and Jungkook stand there in shock, shooting each other a look. The objects that levitate above the ground in which they belong rotate in slow circles with no intention of coming down to their respective spots anytime soon. The pair that are currently recovering from their initial shock then proceed to focus their attention back onto you

“(y/n), I’m gonna need you to calm down.” Jimin’s soft voice spoke “What is going on? What’s wrong with me.” You question, your voice cracking as each word slips past your lips. A crack of thunder sounds with a dramatic ‘BOOM’ and rain begins to pour heavily with a few flashes of lightening flashing from here and there.

“Nothings wrong with you (y/n) every things okay.”

You feel large arms wrap around you and it doesn’t take much for you to immediately know that its Jungkook. You break and sobs escape your mouth, salty tears roll down your cheeks and you confide in him, let yourself be held by the dead but alive boy. For some odd reason his touch is soothing you, letting you know that he is there for you. He’s warm, he’s breathing, he has emotions, you can feel him, he’s real, and he’s definitely alive. Although you don’t know why you got so worked up just from seeing him, his presence seems to calm you down in no time and soon all of the objects that were once floating in the air and defying the laws of gravity tumble down, landing on the flat wooden surface with loud thumps and clattering. Which leaves the once cozy living room in a mess with an array of things strewn across the floor. The storm outside carries on.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there in that same position with Jungkook, but when you look up you see a less than impressed Jimin locking eyes with Jungkook before he shouts out “JUNGKOOK NOOO!!!!” But it’s too late. Now your in in a room lit by a few candles hanging up on the copper brown walls. “Jungkook, Where are we?” You stand up hastily observing your surroundings

“Were at home.” You turned to face him a look of disbelief etched onto your features “I’m not quite finished with the adjustments yet, but i’ll have it done in no time and we can live here together comfortably.”

“Jungkook, This is really sweet of you but I cant stay here.”

“Why not?” he frowned “Do you dislike my presence to that extent? you used to love me so much” he looked down to face the ground, sadness laced in his voice as he whispered out the last part

“Jungkook I-”

“Have you even gotten all of your memories back yet?”

“No, I have not, but I-” you tried to speak but he kept cutting you off “You need to stay here, your just now regaining your powers and you don’t know how to control them.”

“No, Jungkook I don’t need to stay here and I honestly do not wish to do so.”

“(y/n), why are you so adamant on avoiding me?I just want to love you. Why wont you let me love you?”

“Cause thats not how things work Jungkook. I’M NOT YOURS, I don’t even know you.”

You know your words hurt him, you could feel it seeping into the atmosphere. He wore it clear on his face until that hurt turned into an entirely different emotion: Irritation. “Fine” He huffed out, grabbing your arm and then you were back in Jimin’s wrecked living room with no sign of Jungkook anywhere. The storm outside was still going on strong, The hard pats of water hitting the glass of the window and the, loud thumps of thunder roaring aloud just like your emotions

~admin

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soundof-rain · 3 years

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Journey with spirituality pt.3

So where do we go now that I’ve so bravely confronted my mommy demon and agreed on leaving this hell hole? Well immediately after the whole debacle I called another older brother of mine, the one who lived in California that wanted so badly for me to move out there with him, and told him probably the best news he could’ve heard that day, I was finally coming out there with him. I explained the whole situation to him and expressed that this was my only option so it was no way for me to flake or chicken out this time and he was completely excited to hear that since his earlier proposals fell short and got lost in the wind, plus he’s been trying to “save” me ever since he left and settled in Cali lol. Everything was moving oh so fast at this point it was literally the first day of september 2020 and I now had until september 30th to be packed and gone, I was really about to move my entire life across the world, everything i’ve ever known being left in my dust; it was all so surreal the people and places i’ve been surrounded by my entire life would be apart of me no longer, I was so ready yet oh so scared, this would be my first time on a plane for one but more importantly my first time being on my own completely. Sure i’ve always felt alone and may have always been alone as in isolated but there were always familiar people somewhere around no matter how far , this time I would be completely alone in a place I have no idea about. The whole process of me starting a new life didn’t immediately hit me right away I simply shrugged it off telling myself this is the new start i’ve always wanted and i’m ready for it but I was ignoring the part of me that was actually worried and scared shitless about how everything would even turn out. I spent a lot of my days with my best friend& favorite nephew just trying to create a few more lasting memories before everything changed because I just knew deep in my gut, I had the undeniable feeling that everything for sure was going to change, nothing would be the same. I also spent a lot of my time grieving the death of who I used to be and my old life, sometimes a wave of realization and sadness would sweep over me and I would just cry and cry and cry because I just couldn’t wrap my head around this being my life for real but it was for sure my life and for sure happening. That month seemed to fly by in a blur for the most part the only memorable thing was the last party - or small get together really I would be attending for a long time, the year older than me brothers birthday , we drank and smoke the night away ; So much so that I spent the night in a blur, I remember everything that happened but my mind was off somewhere else the entire time I didn’t laugh nor talk, just sat staring at everyone else. I would be leaving in a week, seven days and I would probably never see these faces again for a very very long time. The days leading up to my departure where hectic to say the least, I tried so hard to relax but of course I could never catch a break silly me to even think I could, I spent my last week stress packing trying to clear my room and get everything worth taking fitted in my luggage and dealing with yet another situation my dear year older brother got himself into, sigh. It came to a point where I became too fed up with all the runaround and bullshit that I flat out told my brother I am not responsible for him nor his problems and that he was being a major inconvenience to me whether he knew it or not, I was trying to relax and prepare myself for this shift but instead im being burdened with his issues, I explained to him that I’m no longer his support system nor his problem solver he would have to be that for his own self and be a big boy now, its about fucking time he did so and too my surprise he completely understood. I felt bad for saying that to him but I also felt relieved that I got it off my chest and was able to speak up for myself and my needs as well as create boundaries THAT’S GROWTH! I immediately burst into tears when he was gone though because I was completely overwhelmed with everything going on and surprise surprise to add to my stress I had a phone interview scheduled for not too long after my mental breakdown that I would have to be completely sober and attentive for, go me for actually holding my composure and getting through the interview (and getting the job), this was day three before I had to leave. The next two days went by in a blink, the day before I left I spent one last night with my bestfriend watching movies and eating her cooking for the last time and she did my hair for the last time before I set off to start my new life, it was emotional of course but I was a big girl I could handle it , there was no talk within the family only my sister, her boyfriend and children buying me a cake and leaving me with a departing gift ; they were the only ones to say goodbye to me, not my mother who again was present in the entire thing but decided she wanted to go lay down instead nor any other family members. It actually amuses me every time I tell the story so, another one of my older brothers that I don’t claim is completely greedy, a full food monster! so he saw the cake and got excited asking my sister did she buy the cake, she responded yeah it was for me leaving tomorrow and he said oh with nothing more to add to it , come to find out he wanted and got a piece of MY goodbye cake and never uttered a goodbye to me barely even looked my direction lmao the disrespect and fuckery.

Fast forward now i’m on the first plane and my stomach dropped, as I sat in my seat and prepared for the instructions I began to cry a little because it hit me again- this is really real , this is really happening. It’s crazy how all of these events transpired in a seven month time frame, all of this healing, having unwavering faith in spirit as well as the complete unknown and pushing past self inflicted boundaries now allowed me to be free from the shackles of my old house and home state, to be free from the toxicity that plagued my life and held me so far down, I was now on my first step to becoming my own person without the influence of anyone else involved and boy did it feel good. I knew my healing wasn’t over but it’s safe to say I wasn’t exactly prepared for the next three months. ~

#the end #spirirtual journey #spirituality #my story #blog post #blogposts #writing

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imaginativemarvel · 7 years

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2 A.M. - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary/Request: Hello! I am new to your space and I was wondering if you create a one shot where the reader is struggling in college and is overwhelmed and stressed about the present and the future and steve comes waltzing to in calm her down and remind her the beauty of life and just talks to her sweetly. I could surely use this, and im sure others could too! TY REQUEST BY - @purececiliaosophy (thank you!!!)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1.8k !!!!

Warning: reader is depressed, stressed & just emotionally/physically drained. if that stuff triggers you then keep scrolling m8

A/N: check out the new theme yallllll it took a whole 5 minutes, appreciate it - request are open?!!!!!!

[[Masterlist]]

<<Please read my latest post>>

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You bent your knees to collide with your chest, waterfalls streaming down your face. Thoughts replayed in your head as trauma and stress increased by your rising heartbeat. You thought you had everything figured out, everything was figured out, but at the same time everything felt so wrong. You spent your days isolating yourself to prepare for classes and exams while spending the other half of the time either earning money or getting education. At first it was fine, but when it's on constant replay for month after month, it drives you insane.

Not one day in the past 3 months have you spent it on having alone time. Not one moment spent with Natasha, not one with Sam and most importantly, not one with Steve. Steve is your best friend, someone who you love deeply. At first it was like he was family, but it soon turned into you both awkwardly hanging out and pumping yourself up to make a move. You both knew Your feelings for each other, but neither of you would do anything. Eventually school got to you, cutting off any ties between you, Steve and the outside world completely.

Normally, you thought it would pass and you'd be fine, but you soon realized it wouldn't. That's why you were sitting in your bed at 2am after a long shift at work, crying and trying to sleep so you could wake up for school in a few hours. Morning classes sucked, but you needed the afternoon for your jobs. You weren't even a social person, but you did have friends and family. Those who you cared for.

The lights were off as the echos of your sobs bounced back and forth on the walls. After what seemed like eternity, the crying slowly softened and you found yourself laying down to rest your throbbing head. You were falling into a deep sleep until you heard a bang at the door. It was loud and brutal, so loud that you found your body jumping up to the impact filling the silent apartment room. It wasn't a normal knock, a knock like the neighborhood girls who sold girl scout cookies, but a knock as if a swat team was ready to invade your rooms at any second.

The muscles in your body ached as your head pounded to the beat of your heart, but you still slowly stood up and made your way to the door. When this happens in old horror movies, the peep hole is the last thing anyone would want to stare into after hearing a loud thump at your door, but you did it anyways. The doors slowly unlocked under your fingertips as you peeked through the hole. Nothing was to be seen, as if someone was covering the hole. Shivers were sent down your spine as you opened to curiosity.

When the door opened, it flew with great force. A mysterious figured fell back as his once leaning body fell to the floor of your living room. He quickly caught himself before sheepishly standing up, giving an awkward and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry, (Y/N). I know it's 2 A.M., that's why I knocked loud, but I really need to speak-" He opened his eyes to meet your bloodshot, puffy ones. Ending his sentence quickly, arms raising up to your shoulders before embracing your body into his. After a long moment of him trying to figure out what to say, he settles for the easiest. "You don't have to speak. Just let me hug you, you need it."

The tears started to pour down your face as if you haven't cried in years. The man you loved, the man you cut from your life, was here. He was here and was helping you by just showing you he cares.

"I'm so sorry, Steve."

"For what, Darlin'?" His arms tightened around your body as your voice cracked.

"It's been so long, I shouldn't have cut you off so suddenly. You were the best thing that had ever happened to me and I just lost all connection from you because I was trying to maintain a lifestyle by myself."

"That's why? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me." He leaned his head back a bit to look at yours, not breaking the hug. "After all this time, I thought you hated me. I let it happen at first, but tonight I really needed an answer."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know it would end up like this." His eyes glistened in the moonlight coming from your living room window.

"Is that why you're cryin'?" One of his hands wipes the running tears off your face before moving to the spot on your back.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I just... I just assumed I could do this all and still have a life for my own, but after I realized that I had no time to spare to be with my friends, it was too late. So I gave up and this seems to be the aftermath." You laughed at yourself before slowly removing yourself from his arms and closing the door. Your hands gripped the end of your sweatshirt sleeves as you wiped your face and replaced the sad frown with a happy smile.

"No, (Y/N). Don't do that. If you want to be sad, that's fine. If you want to cry, that's fine. I'm here, and there's no way I'm going to let you pretend to be happy when I know damn well you aren't." His hands grabbed yours before pulling your toward him, grabbing your waist and placing you on his shoulder. The quick movement made you yelp in surprise before laughing at his childish action.

"Steve! No! Put me down!"

"Not until I make you smile!"

"I'm smiling!"

"That's a fake smile!"

"Steve, it's 2 o'clock in the morning!"

"Times an illusion, (Y/N)."

After the small journey to your room, he plopped your back onto the soft mattress. His body soon climbed on top of yours before grabbing both of your hands with one and pinning them above your head.

"Steve! Don't you dare!" His hand raised, pointing one finger out. Your body squirmed under his legs, knowing what was coming. "Are you still as ticklish as you were 3 months ago, babe?"

"Steve! Please, I beg you!" Laughter filled your words as you stared up at the god-like man.

"Oh? You beg me?"

"I'll do anything!"

"That's tempting, but no."

"Steve!" You drawled out his name as his finger slowly poked your lower right side, making you laugh loudly. The biggest smile appeared on his face as he heard you scream in hysterics. You body wiggled, but his weight and strength held your down as he switched hands and began tickling your other side.

"Steve, please! I'll do anything!" You begged at the top of your lungs, probably waking up neighbors.

"Will you call off all plans for tomorrow so we can have a day together?" His words turned your smile into a frown, knowing you wouldn't be able to do that. "You know I can't do that." Your voice was full as disappointment, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make you happy.

"Well, that's too bad." His hand tickled your neck as you arched your back. "Steve, god, okay! I'll do it, just please- Please stop!"

His hands let go of your body before plopping his back down next to yours. You both gasped for air, both from laughing. He wasn't even being tickled to death, and yet he seemed to be more out of breath than you.

"Oh? You think that's funny, Rogers?" His hand trailed to his chest as he let out a heart-warming laugh. "As a matter of fact, I do, doll." "I'll get you! One day." You both chuckled next to each other, staring up at the blank ceiling. After a few moments of silence, his head turned towards yours with a concerning look.

"(Y/N). Please tell me what I can do so that you're never in the same state as you were before I got here." His words hit you deep, it felt like your heart sunk to the bottom of a deep abyss, never returning and forever holding you in an unexplainable emotion.

"I don't know. I really don't. I've never felt like I've hit rock bottom before, but I do now. I don't know what to do." You continued to stare up above, his gaze still focused on the side of your facial features.

"If that means I have to come here every night at 12pm and stay until you leave, I'll do it. All this time I thought I lost you, but I lost you to a whole different reason. What would have happened if I didn't come? What would have happened if I completely forgot about you and lived on with my life?" His body shifted onto its side. His hand trailed up to your face, gently moving it to look at him.

"I don't know." A sigh escaped your lips as you saw his inner eyebrows lift up in sadness.

"That's frightening, I don't even want to think about it. If I didn't come today, and nobody else came, it could have been for the worse. Realizing that I distanced myself from you because I thought you didn't want me in your life, but it was only because you couldn't have me in your life. All of those moments we spent together would be memories; memories I would dwell on. I didn't want those to be my last memories with you and I plan on making more. If I have to cut out things from my life just to help you and make sure you're okay, you'll be damn sure I will. If it's classes, I'll help. If it's work, I'll help. If it's money, I will help. Just tell me what's happening and I'll do anything in my power to make sure you're ok. You just have to tell me."

Your heart fluttered as his blue eyes connected with yours, love and worry written all over his expression. You slowly moved toward his form as his body inched forward, arms pulling towards each other and closing the gap in between your bodies. His arm swiftly slid under your side before bringing you on top of his body, legs straddling him. His lips moved against yours as your tongue met his. As moments passed by, air escapes your lungs. Your mouths slowly inches away before breathing in the shared air. His lips curved up; you mimicked his expression. A small chuckle escaped his mouth before his raised his eyebrow up at you.

"Why didn't we do this 3 months ago?"

"I don't know, but since we didn't, let's make up for it right now."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Tags: @gallifreyansass @walkingtravesty97 @g0back2bed @crazy4thewinbros @iamwarrenspeace @nadtandy @feelmyroarrrr @xabeautifultragedyx @ginger-wayward-assbutt

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