#I wish I could just be grateful that I have a tv tray to write on.

[yuzukult]

from home 04 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 7.4k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: so so so thankful that from home 01 has reached over 400 notes! this is a huge milestone for me so thank you all that reblogged, liked, and replied to my chapters because it means so much to me! so grateful for all of your support because i never thought any of my fics would get any attention! honestly, not my best chapter, but i have plans for from home 05 that are more exciting to write lol please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup ← previous chapter || next chapter →

You’d never invite him over to your apartment without the company of Hoseok. So why did you ask him to come over and just him?

Jungkook is anxious. Other than the fact that you've requested for his company on a Friday night, he hasn't really spoken to you alone ever since that weekend at his parents' estate. You weren't avoiding him, at least that's what he speculates, but there wasn't much 'alone time' and he was starting to feel insecure about how you felt about your relationship.

Rephrase. Fake relationship, he means.

The brisk, heavy wind smacks his face when he steps out of his apartment, ready to be on route to your house with the address you sent over just minutes ago. Cheeks flushing crimson, he pulls his denim coat with sherpa lining closer, suddening wishing that Hyungjin was still driving him on days like this, oh how lucky Old Jungkook was. 

15 minutes is what the GPS on his phone says, grateful that his mother hasn't cut off his line with the money because he honestly wouldn't have known what to do if he didn't have it. What did people use back then when they needed to go somewhere they've never been to before? He'd have to google that later. His hands are occupied, looking for warmth in his pockets. 

His fingers are curled frozen by the time he reaches the front of your apartment, face pale with only the tint in his nose and cheeks. There's something swirling in his gut—whether it's gas or he's just plain nervous, he's not exactly sure, but he knows that this is the first time he's ever been to your apartment and it's not the same feeling he gets when he's at his one night stands.

Once you receive his text, the buzzer goes off, allowing him to enter into the hallway of your apartment building and how different it is compared to his is astonishing. Other than the fact that the wallpaper was tearing off and the carpets look like it's been years since someone last vacuumed it, the lights were dim, giving off a spooky aura despite Halloween being a month ago.

"Apartment 344," He reiterates to himself from your message, following the instructions underneath that had been oddly specific. "Don't go into elevator car six. Six breaks down after floor two, and five is missing a button for floor three, so only car eight works without a chance of you being stuck in it. There's a smell, so you'll just have to hold your breath."

Weird. So Elevator Eight then?

When he finally reaches your floor, he nearly faints when he walks out. It smelled like a combination of pee and weed with a sprinkle of air freshener which wasn't much help. 

344. The black printed numbers are inscribed in the gold plaque that isn't real gold because it's peeling and the surface underneath it is brown. When you come to the door after he knocks, he can't help but gush at the sight of you. 

Oversized hoodie and shorts with your hair tied in a low bun, strands that fall out effortlessly and frame your no-makeup face, his heart almost jerks out of his chest. It's not fair that someone so mean can be so pretty.

"Hey," You say, breathless. "Come in. I'm in the middle of cooking up dinner. Have you ever had a home cooked meal?"

He furrows his brows. "Uh, the chefs usually put something together at the estate."

"Is it even called home-cooked if you call your house an estate?" 

"Well—" You wave him off, stepping aside for him to enter. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Your apartment is you in a version of a place. Outside entering in, he thinks it's intimidating and tends to throw people off, with the impression that it's not somewhere you'd want to be at. Yet your home itself— he finds that the confined space between where the TV sits on the shelf, books residing in the cubes beneath, across from where a grey love-seat couch is placed is a resemblance of serenity. The kitchen is relatively small, even smaller than his current studio apartment, but everything about it here feels cosy. "It's nice," He hums in content, slipping off his jacket to hang on the coat rack nearby. "I never thought your place would be so... comfortable."

"What'd you think it was going to be? A white void?" Well, you're not wrong, but he fears you so he figured it was best to not respond to that. "So... what are you cooking?"

"Couple things, actually. I even cooked some rice. What did you usually eat when you were living at home— I mean, the estate?" Leading him into the kitchen, which didn't really need much guidance with the short square footage of the apartment, he still can't believe that this place is your own. "American food? Italian? Just generally European? Our chef is from England, and studied somewhere in France. Not much Korean, if I'm being honest."

"Then... is it even home cooked? Take a seat."

He sits at the little round table centered in the middle of the kitchen, a couple recipe books stacked to the side, just enough room for the two of you to work with. "I guess not. You never answered my question, what did you make?"

"Mm... Kimchi Jjigae, bulgogi, and some stir fried veggies. I even baked something for dessert."

Something about this view of you working over the stove, plating the food and side dishes onto the table that makes it feel so domestic. He likes you like this—clear faced without trying so hard, despite thinking how beautiful you looked during the charity event, this felt refreshing.

"Alright," You cheer, handing him a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks. "Let's dig in."

"Can I ask you something?" You're in the midst of putting some beef into his serving before looking up. "What is it?"

"Why... Are you being so nice to me? I haven't heard a jab since I got here. And why did you invite me over? Not even Hoseok joining in, just us two. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were trying to avoid me ever since you got to see what it was like to be in my family but then you asked me to come over. I’m a little confused."

Chewing on your bottom lip, your shoulders slouch as you drop your body back against the seat. "Honestly?" He nods. "I've been putting you in a weird spot. I don't like you because you have money, look down on other people who don't have those opportunities, and to be fair, you're very ignorant to this life stuff. You almost bought something from the Supreme drop until Hoseok stole your phone away from you." Fiddling with the kimchi sitting in it's plate, you poke at it with your chopsticks. "You took me back to your family house but it wasn't a house. You called it an estate then you proceeded to show me that you have no real relationship with your brothers. I get why you'd come to those events drunk, and I felt bad."

He scoffs. "So you pitied me."

"Well— no, I just... I just wanted you to know the feeling of home. What home really feels like, and how it's a place you find yourself wanting to come back to. I'm trying somewhat to show it through food—" You gesture the meal that you spent hours on. "—and possibly other ways. I'm not pitying you, I just don't think it's fair."

Jungkook's face softens. "You... don't think it's fair for me. You've always said things aren't fair for you, how I get all these things and I'm provided with so many advantages and now... you're siding with the rich?"

"No, not siding with the rich. Siding with you, Jeon Jungkook. Or, Kookie, whatever your sister-in-law calls you." He can’t help but laugh, as embarrassing as the nickname is to him because he’s too elated that you see him in a different light now. Maybe Hoseok was right. Learning a thing or two from you would be beneficial for him, if anything.

“Here— have some more of this,” You say before hauling a load of veggies into his bowl and he can only smile at the gesture.

“So,” Jungkook begins, finishing washing the last dish in the sink. Truth be told, he offered because you so kindly prepared a delicious dinner for him, but he needed guidance on how to actually do the chore. “What’s the dessert?”

It’s cute— the way you squirt the bottle of dish soap into the sponge in his hands, teaching him how to properly clean after himself. He feels like a baby being taught how to do the basic life tasks, low-key wishing that he could just ask Hana or Nayeon to do it instead— but it’s you beside him, telling him he needs to thoroughly scrub in order to get the tough grease stains out. He’d say, “how can you tell if it’s still greasy?” and despite you rolling your eyes and responding back, “by touching it?” something about tonight feels different than when you do it at the grocery store.

“Cinnamon rolls!” There’s a sparkle in your eye, exuberant about getting a target to fixate on. “I can pop it back in the oven for a couple minutes to get it all warm again.”

He agrees, wiping his hand off on a rag hanging by the sink, watching as you eagerly pop two buns on a tray, slipping it into the pre-heated oven. “I want you to try the things I bake from scratch... since you’re kind of investing in me.”

“It’s an exchange, more like I’m paying you.”

You grumble, rubbing your face in your hands. “No, no, no, don’t just give me money, Jungkook. If anything includes you putting cash of any form into my palms, it means you’re investing in me because you believe in me.”

Jungkook frowns. “But I do believe in you. Why do I have to keep saying that? You have the characteristics of a trustworthy person. Why else would I have asked you to be my girlfriend?”

“Pretend girlfriend,” you rectify, pointing in his direction, “... you chose me to be your pretend girlfriend. Even so, what if I’m a bad baker?”

A chortle escapes from Jungkook’s lips, shaking his head in disbelief. “OK, ok. Keep baking me goods. If in the end, I think you’re a horrible baker, I won’t ‘invest’ in your business, but I’ll invest in you instead. You keep the money. Do whatever you please with it, even if it means opening a really bad bakery. You’re helping me out here by fake dating me. My father has already personally called me on four occasions, asking when we’re visiting again.”

There it sits. The cinnamon bun. Or roll. Whichever it is— but there you are, directly leaning against the table across from him, eyes watching him attentively. Thoughts start running in his mind like; what if it actually tastes horrific like the possibility you mentioned? What would he do then? You both had already gone as far as meeting his family, he’s too deep in. 

“Stop thinking and just eat.” You say discernibly, impatient with his indecisiveness. Using the fork you provided, he pierces through the the pastry and the cut is buttery smooth, requiring no effort. When he brings it to his mouth, the moment it touches the tip of his tongue, it practically melts, dissolving in contact with his saliva, awakening up his taste buds. It’s sweet, the cinnamon with the brown sugar and butter, yet not overwhelming enough to turn it away because something about it just brings life into you again.

His mouth parts open, gaping in awe. “Oh my god,” he mutters with his cheeks full of the pastry, “W-what, oh my god. Did you drug me or something? Because there’s no way it tastes that good.”

“No— but then I made a home-made yeast dough where I added some more ingredients to transform it into an enriched dough, and that contributes to it’s soft interior with a more fragile crumb. Then the filling, I brushed on butter after rolling the dough out to a rectangle—“ 

“I-I don’t need the details,” Jungkook stutters with a nervous laugh but you were going to go off for hours if he hadn’t stopped you. “I think if all the things you make taste just as good as this, I’m impressed. You’ve sold me. But... I have to ask, why a bakery? I looked up what it means to be someone in your field with your degree and people go off to do product development, maybe research in processed foods— this isn’t necessarily close to being a baker. I honestly don’t know why my father asked you to take part of the restaurant chain he’s planning on building.” 

“Oh,” Pursing up your lips you tap your fingers against the wooden table, heaving out a sigh. “I’m surprised you did some research.”

“Well, you taught me to do some extensive exploration before I invest in something.” He shoots back.

“I wanted to go to culinary school, simple as that. I told you, I love Guy Fieri and wouldn’t it be crazy if he went to my bakery and put me on his show?” Jungkook is keeping this in his back pocket for future teasing, but you seem so dazed when you talk about your dreams that he has to refrain himself. “But I couldn’t just go to culinary school, no, my parents would kill me. So, I chose something as close as possible and so here I am. I should get into product development, maybe I can be part of something that could be preserved and easily accessible to help feed third world countries but— I don’t know how long I’d be able to sit in a lab for. I want to make people happy, see them walk through the front doors and hear the bell ring along with their footsteps, see their faces lit up when they eat what I made.”

There’s a lot of things he can point out in your expression when you talk about your dreams, them being how your eyes become the pools of chocolate cupcakes, swirling dark and sweet, and how your lips look so pillowy pink like a fluffy buttercream frosting. Within your voice, there’s so much certainty that holds it, credence along with each syllable you sing, words rising like the yeast in bread. Wholeheartedly, he wants to back you up on your aspirations, solely from the way you’ve sold them but at the same time, he feels this green-eyed envious being within him that wishes he had something to be equally as passionate about.

Money can only be ardor for so long, an inanimate object that can eventually lose its meaning if the world goes to shreds. It’s value will be there when emphasized but what if it didn’t exist? What did Jungkook like?

It’s a constant battle he finds himself placed in, especially when he absentmindedly scans the groceries for the customers, reiterating the same phrases every couple minutes with a new total tailing behind it. His uniform fits too well these days, stability making a name-tag on the chest pocket of his apron, and he’s not sure what to make of it. 

He has an ivy league degree in international business, but what does he do with it? Currently, he’s asking customers how their day was, what the end price of their shopping run is, and hoping the rest of their day is well. Four years grinding hard at a prestigious university and for what?

He used to look down on people like you and Hoseok, with a belief that their placement in the supermarket was a controllable decision on their part, but visually seeing and hearing the other employees speak about their struggles of the inability to access higher education or finding difficulty in providing for their families so they throw away their dreams for a daily life in the deli section— he wants more because he’s able to, and he doesn’t want it given to him.

Yet, Jungkook still doesn’t have a dream. And according to you, he doesn’t have a home either.

Obviously, Jungkook has been through many flings. He's even said so himself and the women who have stirred up scandals on media outlets are evidence of it but never in your life did you think that you'd find yourself in this position, blankly staring at a girl weeping in front of you as you're in the midst of restocking laundry detergent onto one of the shelves in the middle of an aisle.

"He's supposed to love me," She bawls, eyes swollen from her crying previously. The girl is barely a couple inches shorter than you with long, straight black hair that stretches down to her lower back, waist so small you could wrap your hands around her. "Jungkook told me that I was the only girl for him and nobody else. So who are you? What'd you do? What's so great about you?"

"Uh, beats me," Rubbing the back of your neck in consternation, you're not sure what to do. There's about a handful of these supermarkets in Seoul alone, so how did she even find which one you worked at? "Um... Have you talked to him about this?"

"N-N-No," The pretty girl stutters, lips quivering. "I went to the estate and they kicked me out, said he doesn't live there anymore but I think they're lying to me."

"Jungkook doesn't live there anymore." You confirm, typing something into your price gun. "He moved out into the city."

"H-He did?" She retorts, eyes glimmering in hope. "That means they didn't lie to me just to kick me to the curb. He really moved out, he's not living there anymore?" You nod, glancing up at the girl who is supposedly Jungkook's ex-girlfriend or in his eyes, one late night affair. She really fits his ideal type—one that you've accidentally discovered when you came across an article of his on one of those gossip magazines... that you googled. Nonetheless, you learn that he's into girls like her—skinny, long straight hair, feminine with a soft, high-pitched voice. Nothing wrong with those things, you just observed that none of those things are you.

"Maeri?" Why does that name sound familiar? 

Jungkook rushes his way down the aisle to stand by your side, gaze immediately glued onto you. "Hey, you alright? Did she say or do anything to you?"

"No," You respond, blinking rapidly at his sudden action. There's a girl who's crying her eyes out right in front of him and yet he's asking if you were okay? "But she claims to be your current girlfriend or ex—whatever it was, I don't remember. Kind of your problem and somehow I'm roped into this."

"And you picked her? Even though she speaks to you like that?" Maeri whimpers, nose pink and lips swelling. "She doesn't even treat you the way that I do. I can't understand why you would just drop us and pick her!"

"Maeri," He says, voice soft and gentle, completely different from what you're used to. Jungkook leans over, hand flatly pressed against her mid-back, rubbing soothingly to calm her nerves. "You're also my dad's assistant. It would've never worked out. He would've found out what we were up to and be completely against it." So that's why the name sounded so familiar, Jungkook's dad requested him to make an appointment with him through his assistant, Maeri.

... Question is, why would he do something so risky and get involved with his dad's personal assistant?

"B-B-But..."

"Listen," You quickly interject, dropping the price gun onto the car where the array of laundry detergent bottles sit. "This feels like a private conversation. You can finish this after you talk with her, I'll just find something else to do."

"Wait—" But before Jungkook could even grab you, Maeri already has her grasp tightened around his wrists, pulling him in close. "Jungkook, don't go. Talk to me, please?" He sighs when he sees you don't even glance back.

It's a bit infuriating, you think, to hear some girl complain about how you're not worthy enough for a guy that you'd previously thought wasn't even good enough for you. You were somewhat decently looking, right? Or so, that's what you thought.

"You good?" Hoseok interrupts your thoughts, brows furrowed in confusion. "Seem kinda lost there."

You hum, resuming back to stacking up the apples in the produce section because Jungkook was doing your task instead due to the incident. Truth be told, you hated here in produce, because since you first stepped foot into this section, six old women had already tried starting small talk. But anything to get out of that conversation between him and Maeri. "Well, I just saw Kim Maeri over there with boogers dripping from her nose because Jeon Jungkook suddenly has new arm candy."

Rolling your eyes, you threaten to throw the apple in your hand at him. "Not arm candy. Girlfriend."

"Ohhhh," Hoseok teases, hands slipping into the front pocket of his apron. "Not arm candy but rather girlfriend. Not so fake anymore? So, who confessed first? You or our clueless Kook?"

"Hoseok, not in the mood. I just dealt with some weird girl crying over a guy I'm not even really dating, weeping on for twenty minutes about how I'm not good enough for him."

"Why? Are you sad because you think it's somewhat true?"

Your glare nearly kills him. "No, but it's not easy to hear. I mean—he's this guy who doesn't even know what to prioritize in his spendings, can't even properly do his laundry without dying some of his whites, and he doesn't know how to clean after himself. And yet she thinks he's too good for me?" Scoffing in disbelief, you slam an apple onto the pile and Hoseok grimaces, hand on your wrist. "Please don't bruise the apples."

You sigh and he lets go of his grip. "Sorry. But am I that mean?"

"No, no, don't say it like that, of course you're not. Sure, you sound sorta insensitive sometimes but you mean well. Or else Jungkook and I wouldn't willingly spend time with you, right?"

"I'm your timesheet approver and Jungkook is using me to get back at his parents. I don't know about that."

Hoseok rolls his eyes, handing you the apples from the inventory cart as you continue to organize them onto each other. "If that's the case, I wouldn't actually help you out when we're not at work. You don't have enough authority here for me to kiss your ass my way up for a promotion here. And Jungkook— although, true, yes, he's asking that from you but he wouldn't just willingly see you or try to spend time with you outside of work. Stop being so insecure because some pretty girl came by."

"Uh, Hey." Jungkook appears out of thin air, startling both you and Hoseok. "I... restocked the detergent like you asked. I can take over this if you'd like, I know you don't really like working in the produce section because the grandmas like to start conversations up with you."

A smile tugs on the edges of Hoseok's lips, suggestively eyeing you before stepping back. "I'm gonna go find myself elsewhere..." Then he jolts before you can get a word in.

"I'm good," Turning back to the pyramid of fruits, you're content with how it looks so far yet Jungkook doesn't seem to share the same pleasant expression. "I'm almost done anyways."

"She's not... we've never dated," He says, swallowing his nerves. In all honesty, he's unsure why he feels the need to justify his relationship with her and elaborate the story behind it, but he gives into the urges nonetheless. "Just a fling. We slept with each other a couple times because I liked the rush it gave me, knowing that if my dad knew I slept with his favorite assistant of all time, I'd be done for."

Silent and brushing your hands off from the debris, you avoid chiming into his story. Was he telling this to you because you’re his supervisor or because of the weird relationship that’s going on between the two of you? “Uh, it’s fine. It happens. Wasn’t necessarily your fault, it was unavoidable. At least that over with, right?”

Jungkook scratches the back of his head quietly, the ponytail on his head bouncing slightly. “About that... there’s an event this weekend.” After brushing over the details, you don’t say much, striving to finish the pyramid of apples, Jungkook assisting by taking over Hoseok’s spot. “I have a question.”

“What’s up?” You don’t shift your attention away from the red fruit.

He clears his throat. “Are you and Hoseok a thing?” Letting out an airy laugh, your eyes finally meet his. “Of course not. He’s just a very involved and caring friend. Nothing more, and he isn’t really my type. Plus, I’m sure he’s not over Hyeri.”

Jungkook nods, pulling his lips into a straight line because he’s trying to hold back a smile. You and Hoseok were not a thing, which meant that there was one thing less he didn’t have to worry about.

Maeri found you through the instruction of Mr. Jeon; he said that his wife had mentioned your current employment at two of her chains and this was her second attempt after wailing over at the coffee shop, hoping that the second location was a charm. Meeting Jungkook there was really a coincidence, in all fairness, because apparently Mr. Jeon didn’t say anything about Jungkook being there—his main target had been you.

“He wants you to come with me to another event... but it requires some travel.” Jungkook told you, feeling a bit guilty because you had just spent a weekend at his parents estate barely a couple days ago. This means begging your supervisor at the supermarket and the café to let you call off for the next week. Hopefully in the end it’s all worth it...

When Jungkook says travel, this is not what you thought it was going to be.

“We can either take the private plane there with my family or ride the train.” You don’t hesitate to pick the latter option, evading the potential family argument that would blossom in seconds if you were to be stuck in a cabin full of the Jeons. 

You don’t recognize the awkward position you put Jungkook in until you’re standing on the platform, waiting for your train’s arrival with a duffle bag in hand, body hidden underneath a heavy winter coat. “Oh. Have you ever rode on the train before?” He shakes his head ‘no’ and you frown. Maybe you should’ve taken the plane there, Jungkook would’ve been more comfortable. And as if he read your thoughts, he nudges you with his elbows, hands dug into the pockets of his jacket. “Since you’re popping my train cherry, take it easy on me, will you?’

He’s perhaps a little funny, but you’re not going to cave into that.

Busan— is what your ticket says, from Seoul to Busan. Honestly, you had never been in Busan before but you recall Jungkook saying that it was his birthplace and he’d be more than happy to guide you through the nooks and cranny of the largest port city in South Korea. 

Once you reach the city, it’s completely different from Seoul. The buildings are condensed, there’s so many markets yet at the same time, there’s just as many people there are in Seoul. Hyungjin is holding a sign that says, “Jeon Jungkook,” written on it in bold letters, bowing when he sees your fake-boyfriend, just as eager as Jungkook. “I’m glad they asked you to pick me up again.”

“Well, I requested it, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh please, I’m sure you didn’t. You hated having to drive me home whenever I was partying.”

Hyungjin shakes his head with a grin plastered on his face. “I did, perhaps. However you are a new man now with a very intelligent woman by your side, so I can almost guarantee that you’ve changed. Much more likable, Mr. Jeon. Please, let me take you to your hotel.”

You nearly have a nosebleed just from the view from your room.

The sea is beautiful, despite the grey clouds that hover the water from the colder weather but the charm could never be hidden. Apparently, the hotel that Jungkook’s parents had booked for the two of you was a 5-star hotel, spas, pools, restaurants and everything included and some that you can see from your balcony. 

“Holy shit, Jungkook, is there where you grew up?”

“No, not in a hotel.” He laughs, watching as you move around the room like a little kid to see every trinket the hotel had to offer. “My grandparents’ house is just down the road, and I’m sure they want to meet you. We can do some stuff beforehand and meet them for a late lunch with the rest of the family. How’s that sound?”

Jungkook is your tour guide for the day— taking you to the market where they sell merchandise with idols faces on it, snacks, and so on. He takes you to see the Gamcheon Culture Village, a place where homes are condensed that are splatters of the rainbow and filled with painted murals. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and everything is just a bit more enjoyable with a tall little kid standing by your side.

He takes you to the Haeundae Beach, where a story he tells is a place he recalls biking with brothers when he lived there during the summers. Once they were a bit older and found interest in girls, he stopped going since the only thing he looked forward to was spending time with his siblings there. 

When you meet his grandparents at their humble home, his brothers are already there with his parents, paying their respects and doing their ‘routine’ to visit them at least once a month, apparently. You assumed the family would have neglected their grandparents with the presence of wealth, but it was nice to see that his parents still kept their roots.

“This is Jungkook’s girlfriend?” His grandma says in a mixture awe and disbelief, glancing back at his mother and you. “I’m so glad, he hasn’t been here to visit me in a long time. Did you convince him?”

You shake your head in response, bending down to sit across from her. “No, he asked if I’d like to come.”

“He wants to introduce his pretty girlfriend to his grandparents, of course! Why else?”

From the corner, Jungkook can see Jongseok twitching in annoyance at the attention you were gaining from their grandparents, complimenting while pinching your cheeks, pleased with who Jungkook had ended up with. “Smart and beautiful, will you wed her soon or else someone else sweeps her off her feet?”

“I’ll try,” Jungkook says with uncertainty, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “It’s really up to her though.”

“Then make it so that she can’t say no!” His grandfather chimes in.

Lunch had been nice with his family; it had been a lot tamer than the conversations at the dinner table in the Jeon’s. For one, it seemed like if anyone had anything bad to say, they refrained themselves from doing so in respect for their frail grandparents.

Back at the hotel, you stand with your arms rested against the rail of the balcony, your hair blows with the wind, strands getting into your face as you attempt to push them away, only for Jungkook to lean in, gently brushing them out your way. He’s close— so close that you can feel his breathing against your cheek and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath when you exhale after he steps back. “There,” he grins, proud of his work, “looks good.” Was he talking about how he completed the task well or that you looked good?

“It’s... really nice here, Jungkook.” If it weren’t for this arrangement, you never would’ve found the time or money to come here unexpectedly, especially with how much money you were trying to save to open up the bakery. Enjoying the finer things in life proved burdensome since one of the things on the list of adulting was knowing what your priorities were. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten the chance to explore Busan if it weren’t for you.”

“You... you should take a break every now and then,” Jungkook suggests, leaning beside you. Everything about the sea at night is striking; the gusts of wind from the waves, the lights at the pool from the hotel, the sky, sparkling with stars from above that causes a glimmer in your eyes, swirls of mocha full of wonder and excitement. “You overwork yourself to death. You’re completely burnt out. Yet at the same time you keep making time for Hoseok and I when what you really need is a spa night.”

“It’s... it’s not that easy,” You frown. “I just have so much to do.”

“I told you, let me take care of you. If I can prove to my family that I’m capable, I get the money back. I can pay you for all the things you’ve done for me, all the things you’ve taught me, everything. You need to enjoy your life before you’re old and wrinkly because by then, you won’t have the energy to do the things you want to anymore.”

“Jungkook—“

“No, let me teach you something this time around. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I think I know everything now, I just... with chilling and relaxing, I think you should let me take it from here.”

“I just—“ Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he forces you to face him, pressing them together for your lips to purse up. “No arguments. No disagreeing with me, no more of that. I need you to listen to me for once and not tell me what to do.”

Assertive Jungkook is an inconsistent version of him that’s usually feeble in comparison to you. But something about Busan’s air and water gives him the confidence he needs to stand up to you for once, and it makes your heart skip a beat. You nod in compliance, caving into what he demands. His eyes shift, trailing from the bridge of your nose to the tip, oh how he wants to give it a peck, but once they reach your lips, he realizes that’s what he really wants. 

He swallows, releasing some pressure off of his hands as you survey his distinct expression. “Jungkook, are you—” hastily, he pulls your jaw toward him, lips crashing into yours and it’s more than he expects. He swore in a not dramatic way that it felt like there were fireworks being set off behind him.

Noticing what he’d done, he quickly lets go, hands dropping at his side. “I’m sorry, I just, I couldn’t help myself but I know I said boundaries—”

Hands flying up, your thumb brushes against the soft flesh of his cheeks, hopping onto the tip of your toes, reaching up to meet as much of his height as you could, eyes hooded with your breath fanning his lips. Fingers slipping to the back of his neck, you tug him down, gingerly pushing your lips against his.

It’s gentle— the kind of kiss that Jungkook isn’t familiar with when he comes across his flings, but the way you ease your way into his parted lips and how your tongue brushes against his, it makes him feel hazy, drunk on your scent. His hands find purchase on your waist, tugging your hips to rest on his as your fingers run through his luscious hair. The length is something you’ve grown to love, a huge step from forcing him to tie it back because it hadn’t been ‘professional’ enough. And here you are, making out with your trainee on the balcony of your shared hotel room. He lets you lead the kiss momentarily before you break away, foreheads against each other, you’re both panting with tinted cheeks. “Don’t hold yourself back, please,” you beg in a whisper, completely intoxicated by everything radiating off him. 

Reaching down your thighs, he puts those muscles to use when he grabs onto them, wrapping your legs around his frame as you yelp, arms immediately hugging around his shoulders. He slides the balcony door shut with his feet, dropping you onto the bed, falling along in unison. 

There’s a smile upon his lips, a genuine one filled with admiration. Just when he’s leaning closer to you for a second round, there’s a knock on the door.  Jungkook groans, dropping his face into the crook of your neck as laughter erupts from your chest. “Go get the door.”

“Whoever it is, they just ruined this moment.” He grunts, untangling your legs from his waist to open the door.

Jongseok is leaned up against the door frame, eying his younger brother suggestively. “What were you doing?”

“None of your business,” Jungkook hisses in return. He doesn’t need to say it though because Jongseok knew from his sibling’s disheveled locks, swollen lips, flushed cheeks and labored breathing. Jongseok wasn’t going to look, but he could already tell that Jungkook was supporting a boner in those sweatpants. 

“Hm,” Jongseok hums, narrowing his gaze. “Alright then. Stopped by to tell you that mother wants us to have dinner with family tonight in about 30 minutes. Should be enough time for you to finish, right? How long does 3 pumps take?”

“Get out!” He responds through his gritted teeth, slamming the door on him.

Quickly standing up, you brush your clothes off and fix your hair in the mirror. “We should get ready to head out, I don’t want your mom to wait on us.”

“You sure? I mean we don’t have to go—“ 

“I still need to impress your parents too, right?” Hand pressed against his chest, he calms down at your touch and nods in conformity. “Alright then.”

When the two of you return from the trip, you don’t mention anything about the kiss and what it would’ve led to. Fearing that you’d back out from the agreement, Jungkook doesn’t bring it up either, despite having so many questions running through his head, discovering that there’s a small chance that he’s fallen for you.

Hoseok throws something in Jungkook’s direction, a confused expression on his face when he catches in his hands yet his body doesn’t move from the couch. “What’s this for?” He asks, opening his cupped hands to see a shiny gold key.

“That’s my apartment key,” Hoseok responds calmly, shuffling through some letters that sit on his counter. “For whenever you want to come over.”

In the past month, he found himself gravitating toward not just you, but Hoseok as well, a friendship blooming from being acquaintances. Reminiscing to a time where they would only say ‘hi’ in passing, mostly for politeness because their parents had worked together before, there had never been a real bond between the two of them. And ever since he started working at the market, their friendship had escalated to hanging out with each other on the weekends or any available free-time they had.

Jungkook has friends now.

Real friends, he notes. Ones he never thought he had, ones he had only ever dreamed of, and ones that he didn’t have to bribe for them to become. He admits that whatever he has with you is a bit rocky and unknown, but after having that home-cooked dinner with you that night, he feels like you’re opening up to him. 

An action from you that he rightfully earned, he likes to repeat to himself, because he can’t believe he’s able to obtain relationships with people that didn’t include money.

“You’re giving this to me? You trust me with it?”

“Well, yeah,” Hoseok nets his brows in confusion, making his way to sit beside the other male on the couch, switching his PlayStation 5 on, handing Jungkook a controller as he stares dumbfoundedly. “You come here almost every weekend, or well, recently almost every other day since I got the PS5. You’re a bro now, we’re not just some dudes that acknowledge each other at parties anymore.”

Jungkook feels like he’s soaring. His feet are hovering in the air, and his heart feels light. If this is what it feels like to have a friend who cares and enjoys spending time with, he doesn’t need to get high and wasted to obtain that feeling anymore.

“Mom, I’m not really in the mood to come back so soon.” You sigh, fingers raking through your drenched locks. It’s supposed to be a relaxing Friday night in; Jungkook bringing the pizza with wings and Hoseok grabbing the beers from the supermarket when he finishes his shift tonight. Figuring that you had some time, you’d give yourself a relaxing shower, knowing damn well you were going to need some peace and quiet temporarily with two rowdy boys coming later.

“Please,” She begs, attempting to raise her voice in a baby-ing manner. “Your sister said she was coming tomorrow morning. I would love to get the family back together. And you said so yourself last week, you’re free this weekend!” You’re starting to regret calling your mom with life updates.

The door swings open, the sight of Jungkook hauling in bags and a box in his hand. “Jeon, you can put it on the coffee table,” Pointing in the living room, he nods as you trail behind him. “You can move the books off the table and put it by the TV.”

“Jeon?” Your mom reiterates, suddenly intrigued by whomever you were at your apartment with. “Who is Jeon?” Ignoring her, you press the phone against your shoulder and cheek, freeing your hands in attempt to help Jungkook clear out the table. “Oh, Jungkook, can you close the door? It’s cold for some reason.”

“Jungkook?” She gasps the name into the phone, squealing afterwards. “You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

“What?” You reply sharply, Jungkook coming back from your request, brows knitted in confusion. “Who’s on the phone?” He mouths, you retort, “my mom” back faintly. 

“I heard you calling some guy named Jungkook. It’s just him in your apartment alone, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have some guy with you unless he’s your boyfriend, right? Oh my god, I thought you were going to be alone forever—” She yammers on, not even taking a second to breathe. “You know what? Bring him tomorrow. Don’t say no, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. I’m letting your dad and siblings know. Goodnight, dear! Sleep well! Tell Jungkook I said hi!” And with that, she hangs up.

Throwing your phone on the couch, you grumble, hands rubbing your face. “I’m assuming she thinks I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, plummeting your body onto the couch. “As much as I don’t want to do this, she’s going to attack me nonstop if I don’t bring you. Are you free tomorrow? Would you... like to meet my family? If not— it’s totally fine, I mean we’re not even really dating anyways and—“

“Of course,” He grins, settling down beside you. “This doesn’t have to just apply to my parents, you know. I am your boyfriend, not just you being my girlfriend.”

In all honesty, he finds this as an opening. Ever since your trip to Busan, he couldn’t help but see you differently out of the blue. He admits, maybe right now isn’t necessarily the best time for him to start a relationship, especially one where a business deal is involved, but he can’t help it. Something about you, since that night, he saw you underneath those lights and you’re not the same mean supervisor that he thought you’d been.

And don’t even get him started on the way you kiss.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #gyukultfics

[babymilkawa]

“hi! i love ur writing! could i get a fluff w bakugou x reader when she has a panic attack in public and he rushes her to his dorm? sorry if this wasnt specific enough but have a good day!! <3”

aww of course! there are many things that could trigger a panic attack so I hope this was alright ^^ 🤍🍡🧸

there’s no need to be afraid

bakugou katsuki

fem!reader

fluff

word count; 892

warnings: mental breakdown, mental health issues, depression, suicidal thoughts

it was a Friday evening and you and bakugou decided to just chill in the living room with the others. no one was really doing anything, you were all just sitting there and talking to each other. the tv was on but only for some background noise. you weren’t even sure what movie was playing. or maybe it was a show. turning, you continued your conversation with mina while your hands played with your boyfriend’s fingers. 

it was a cold day but the warmth radiating from the man beside you made you snuggle up closer to him. you and mina were talking about the manga series that was just released but then uraraka called out to her from the kitchen, asking for help. mina waved at you and joined her friend at the back. bakugou was busy chatting with Kirishima so you turned your attention to the tv. right at that moment, a girl could be seen standing on top on the edge of a roof. the actress’s face was streaked with tears and a heartbreak song was playing in the background. 

without warning, your brain immediately took you back to that time when you were almost in the same position as her. except someone had come to stop this girl in the tv. no one had been there for you. you had to bring yourself back down. suddenly, you started breathing heavily and you knew what was coming. you felt like the pain that you had experienced back then was rushing into you again. frantically patting bakugou’s arm, you tried to get his attention. he turned to see your widening eyes and your struggled breathing. he knew exactly what was going on. excusing himself, bakugou held your hand and stood you up. he wanted to carry you out of here as fast as possible but he knew that that would only bring attention to you. that was the last thing you needed right now. he had to bring you back in his room before anyone else saw. Kirishima had looked up at his friend and then you with concern, but bakugou shooed him off, dragging you to his room. 

once the door shut, you broke immediately. falling to the ground, you curled yourself up and hid your face in your knees. bakugou was right beside you. he didn’t want to make you uncurl yourself but he noticed that you were still having trouble breathing. 

“hey baby? why don’t you give yourself room to breathe, ok?” he said, as gentle as possible. 

he could hear you start to slowly exhale with your mouth and he softly stroked your hair, “good girl. you’re doing great”

bakugou wasn’t sure what had suddenly caused this but he didn’t want to pry yet. he would of course ask you eventually so that he knew what kind of triggers you had in order to help you avoid from having that happen again. 

slowly, you let go of your knees and bakugou was going to wipe the tears off your face when you buried it in his chest. he didn’t mind, obviously. he liked being able to hold you close and protecting you. 

“y/n, I think this will make it harder to breathe”

your face still pressed to his toned chest, you shook your head. by now, you had stopped shaking and your flow of tears was decreasing. bakugou noticed this and wrapped his arms around you, resting his cheek on your head. 

then you pulled away with your head still hung low.

“I'm scared” you said, fidgeting with your fingers.

bakugou tiled your chin up to look at you. “you don’t need to be. I'm right here”

“but what if-”

“it’s not going to happen, baby. I know you. you’re strong and you’ve gotten through this before haven’t you?” 

you nod. “and now you have me. I just wish I could’ve been there for you before. im...sorry for that” he says.

you shake your head this time, telling him that he shouldn’t be. 

he pulls you in close again and says, “I'll make it up to you by staying with you forever. ok?”

you place a soft kiss on his collarbone as an answer.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. bakugou with his hand on your back and his chin on top of your head. you with your arms wrapped around his torso and your tear stained cheek on his chest. at that moment, you felt so grateful that you had him. he was right. there was nothing for you to be afraid of. you would never go back to that state as long as bakugou was beside you.

then, the sound of your stomach growling filled up the silent room. bakugou chuckles and says, “stay here, babe. I'll get you some food”

he places a kiss to your temples and leaves the room. while you wait, you change into comfortable clothes and bury yourself in his covers, inhaling his scent. by the time bakugou had returned, you had already fallen asleep. he enters the room with your favorites on a tray but is quick to set them down when he sees your peaceful face peaking out from his comforter. with a soft smile, he joins you in bed and brings your body close to him, kissing away the ghost of your tears.

a/n: I feel like I've always wanted to write something like this but I never knew how,,but I hoped y’all found it comforting it!

bnha masterlist

#bnha fluff #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha katsuki #mha fluff #bakugou fluff #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha x female reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha scenarios #mha x you #mha x female reader #mha x y/n #mha imagines #mha headcanons #katsuki fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki imagine #katsuki scenario #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenarios #bakugou fic #my hero bakugo #my hero scenarios

[un-petit-sanctuaire]

Call Your Name

Fandom: Attack on Titan | Shingeki No Kyojin

Pairing: Levi x Petra (rivetra)

Genre: Angst

Rating: General

Word Count: 1400+

Summary: Levi took some time of his day to visit Petra’s family... and Petra.

Disclaimer: The characters and the world of AoT belong to Hajime Isayama. I only borrowed them and added some elements according to my imagination.

Author's Note: This fic was inspired by Hiroyuki Sawano's song, Call Your Name, one of the OST of Attack on Titan. I hope you guys enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoy pouring my emotions to it. ;_; Please excuse any grammar mistake (or point it out, if you don't mind!) as English is not my first language. Sorry if it's rusty, I hadn't written in a while. I'd really appreciate your feedbacks so that I could write better in the future! Last but not least, happy reading. <3

(p.s.: if you could, try reading this fic while listening to Call Your Name for extra feels)

______________________________

She lost her brother months ago

His picture on the wall

And it reminds me

When she brings me coffee, her smile

I wish I could be with her 'til my last day

He found himself walking into the living room of a small, quaint house. The fireplace was burning low, casting warmth around the room. Across him stood a slightly wrinkly man with shaggy brown hair, looking weary and somewhat nervous. However, the man flashed a kind smile before he spoke softly,

“We’re honored to welcome you back in our home, Captain Levi. Please, have a seat.”

A woman walked in, carrying a tray of teacups and cookies, and placed them on the table. Her ginger hair was falling behind her back, reminding him of the girl he had once hand-picked as one of his Special Operations Squad members. It happened years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Like he had just applauded her for her skills yesterday, just fought in battles together with her and his other comrades yesterday, just saw her bringing his favorite coffee into his office yesterday,

just told her parents of her passing yesterday...

“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Ral,” Levi Ackerman finally spoke after what felt like a long silence in his head. “But I couldn’t stay long. I’m only here to give you this.”

He put down a big box he brought with him on the floor. Mr and Mrs Ral glanced at each other apprehensively before making their way towards the box and opening it. He could see that they were shaking, but they didn’t utter any word as they found the things inside: books, clothes, some other personal stuff belonging to her. There was a vase of dried iris, her favorite flower. He knew because he often caught her tending to the bushes on the headquaters' yard on their peaceful days.

Her voice was ringing in his ears and the words she spoke back then were repeating themselves clearly,

“Once everything is over, these iris bushes will grow beautifully, Captain! You’ll see! I’ll always come back to take care of them!”

That was how she had always been. She always cared for others. For her closest friends, for her comrades, for her subordinates... for her captain.

But he couldn’t take care of her in her last moments.

He couldn’t save her.

She said she gave all her love to me

We dreamt a new life

Some place to be at peace

But things changed, suddenly

I lost my dreams in this disaster

“Those are what left of her things that we could retrieve,” he said hoarsely. “... I’m really sorry.”

He could barely hear his own voice. It was as if something was choking him as he saw her parents lay their hands on the stuff inside the box, tears brimming in their eyes.

“Oh, no, no,” Mrs Ral walked towards him and took his hand in her palms. Despite her gentle tone, he could see the pain in her watery eyes. “Please, don’t be sorry... We’re grateful for this. Our Petra... she would love to have these things back in her bedroom. Thank you for bringing some parts of her home, Captain Levi.”

Some parts, he thought. Only some parts got home. She didn’t get home.

Perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come here and brought Petra’s old stuff with him. He only reminded her parents of the pain and agony that they felt for losing their daughter all over again. And above all those, he reminded himself of his own pain. Of the incredible person Petra Ral was once. Of the shoulder-length, ginger-haired girl who now was so out of reach.

He felt the pair of Mr Ral’s arms embracing him into a hug. “Thank you so much, Captain,” the man whispered in his ears, fighting the tears, “for—looking after her all this time. She—”

Mr Ral began sobbing and had to pull away. Mrs Ral slowly patted her husband’s back, trying to calm him down. But Levi just stood there, frozen, his feet glued to the floor. He wanted to say something, to tell them the amazing things Petra did while she was doing her duty—but no words escaped his lips. Oh, what had he done to this family? After years without her presence, her parents must’ve missed her so much.

And so did he.

People called him humanity’s strongest soldier. But what good would it be if he couldn’t even use his strength to protect his friends, to protect her?

I'm crying

Missing my lover

I don't have the power

On my side forever

He decided to leave the Ral’s house sooner than he thought. Mr and Mrs Ral were trying to convince him to stay for dinner, but he couldn’t bear looking at their crestfallen expression every time they talked about her. He had to excuse himself and told them he needed to return to his office.

But before then, he had to make a stop somewhere.

Despite hundreds of graves, the cemetery that evening was quiet and almost empty. There were some people in a distance, mourning over a tombstone he couldn’t recognize. He ignored them as he walked in alone. On his hands was now a bouquet of iris that he had bought on the market as he passed through on his way here. Yes, iris, her favorite flowers. He almost wished he kept the flowers to himself so he would have something to remind him of her. He even nearly, shamelessly, asked Mr and Mrs Ral if he could take one of her things as a memento. He didn't, though. Perhaps he hoped that they would just read his mind and willingly give something of hers to him.

He stopped and kneeled down at one particular tombstone with ‘Petra Ral’ engraved on it. He stared at the name for a few seconds before laying down the bouquet of iris next to the other bouquets he had left on his previous visits. He knew there wasn’t any body buried underneath, yet he felt that this was one of the places he could be closest to her.

His hand unconsciously touched the engraved name as he leaned closer. As if something was stuck in his throat, he suddenly felt out of breath. He could feel his cheeks were starting to get wet. Was he crying? Was he, after everything he had been through, actually not the strongest soldier, not as strong as everyone called him?

His fingers brushed her name on the tombstone. Lord, he would kill to be in her arms right now. To have her by his side.

Petra, are you there?

Oh, where is my lover?

And I got no power

I'm standing alone, no way

Calling out your name

If life was normal—if life could happen according to his will, perhaps he was sitting in the headquarters now, laughing with his comrades. Laughing with her. No, they probably wouldn’t be soldiers. There would be no Survey Corps. No battles. No war. No titans. And then he might just be a normal man living a normal life. There would be every possibility to see his friends grow old together with him. To see himself surrounded by his closest ones. Perhaps he would even get married and start his own little family... Who knows?

Yet there he was, alone, silently crying over an empty grave.

“Petra...”

Could he save her if he acted fast enough? If there was another universe, could he be with her? Would he be given a second chance to hold her, to spend every minute he has with her? To keep her safe from the harm in this world? To be in peace together? Could they become—something else?

“Petra... Please....”

He didn’t know what he was pleading for. Perhaps he wanted her to come back, to tell him everything would be okay. But he knew it was just wishful thinking. Everything that he thought of was too good to be true. Life was a mess, and Petra was already gone. There was no use to cry like this. It wouldn’t bring her back. It wouldn’t bring everyone back. Even if there was another life, it wouldn’t guarantee that they would be safe. That she would be safe.

Everyone he loved got taken away from him.

Perhaps that’s just how it is.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t know how long he had been crying before he pulled his hands from the cold tombstone. Eventually, he stood up, straightening his shirt and tightened his coat.

After giving the tombstone a last glance, Levi Ackerman then began walking away, out of the cemetery and into the cold night.

I’ll see you soon, Petra.

We don't know what is wrong tonight

Everybody's got no place to hide

No one's left and there's no one to go on

All I know is my life is gone

________________________________

#levi ackerman #petra ral #rivetra #levi x petra #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #rivetra fanfics #rivetra ff #aot ff #aot levi #aot petra #*

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Life in Storybrooke: Felix

Request: Life with Felix in storybrooke headcanon/imagine? Plans alive but Felix stocks with the reader 

Living in Storybrooke hasn't been easy, especially with the boys around.

They had a habit for wreaking havoc on the small town.

Out the kindness of your heart you let Felix stay in your apartment.

Was it small? Yes.

But he was still grateful, even if he did have to sleep on your couch.

You had come home, exhausted, with all the extra mouths in town Granny's dinner was packed.

"Oh hey Y/n." Felix's voice chimed from the kitchen.

Your eyes widened in panic as the smell of smoke invaded your nose.

Sprinting into the kitchen, you made sure the former lost boys was ok.

Everything seemed fine, apart from the array of smoke that sprayed out of the oven.

Soon, a loud ringing filled your ears, causing you to wince.

Standing on your counter-tops you turned the ear pricing screech off with a flick of your wrist.

"What the hell was that noise!" The second in command demanded to know, an unused expression was etched onto his sharp features.

You laughed at the face he was pulling.

"Its called a smoke alarm, it goes off when it detects smoke so you'll know if there’’s a fire." You explained, "anyway, why was there so much smoke."

"Oh....um...." the boys face reddened, "I...um.... tried to make something for you."

He pulled the tray out if the oven, the food was so black that you couldn't even tell what it was supposed to be.

However, the idea seemed to make your heart skip a beat, it was the thought that counted.

"Sorry." He said, seeming to look everywhere but you.

"Don’t worry about it, the idea was sweet, we can just order take out."

If you thought trying to explain the concept of a smoke alarm was going to be difficult, imagine trying to explain what a TV was.

"So it's basically a magic box?" He asked, the colourful light from the screen splashed onto his face.

"Yeah.... kinda like that."

The pair of you sat there in a comfortable silence as you ate, Felix's blue eyes sparkled in wonder and technology at the box before him.

You silently sat there for a moment, not being able to tare your eyes away from the boy sat next to you.

The scar that ran down his face made you both intimidated and turned on at the same time, you couldn’t help but winder where he had got it from.

And his jaw line... Oh his jaw line.

You wouldn’t be surprised if it was chizzled by god’s themselves.

The next things your e/c eyes seemed to be drawn to was his hair, the first thing you had made the second in command do when he got here was tidy it up a bit but he still seemed to put it into a messy style. 

He’s pretty hot.

“Thanks, your not so bad yourself.” He said shooting a wink your way.

With reddened cheeks you swiftly turned your head to the TV, realizing that you must have said that out loud.

With a horrified face you stood up, grabbing both of the empty plates that sat on your coffee table and took them into the kitchen in a desprate act to get out of that awkward situation.

“I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” You quietly cursed to yourself.

“Don’t worry about it.” The lost boy chimed up, walking into the kitchen with a cup in his hand, “You forgot this by the way.”

He placed it down in the sink before proudly walking away with a smirk on his face.

That's when you knew, this boy was going to be the death of you.

You had been living together for a while now, but nothing exciting had happened.

After your little slip up that night you were embarrassed to face the boy, trying to avoid him every chance you got.

Which you can imagine was difficult due to the size if your apartment.

You grew flustered every time you saw him.

Butterfly's would flutter in the pit of your stomach every time his hand "accidentally" came in contact with yours.

Realization slowly seemed to settle into your mind.

You liked him.

A faint knocking sound pulled you out of your thoughts, slowly the door to your bedroom creaked open revealing the tall second in command.

"This was in one of those cubby box things down stairs." He said, handing you the pristine letter.

He watched you intently as you began to open it.

Studying your features and taking them in from as distance as if you were a beautiful tiger that could pounce out of fright at any given time.

You didn’t know it yet, but the only reason Felix collected your mail was because he wished to see you.

He figured out his feelings for you a long time ago, back when the two of you were in Neverland even.

Pan had always know he had a soft spot for you that why whenever Felix went to the cages he made you accompany him.

He hear a loud sigh sound from your lips while you eyebrow knitted together in frustration.

"What is it?" He asked you sweetly.

"A water bill." You replied, the confused expression on his face causing you to giggle.

"A what?"

"I'll explain it to you another time, but it looks like we're going to have to switch to cold water for a while." You sighed, "oh well, were used to it, the only way we could shower back home was in the waterfall."

Felix's cheeks flushed a bright red colour.

It might sound pervy, but the former post boy had a secret.

One day he stumbled upon you under the waterfall, naked as the day you were born.

He would be a liar if he said he didn’t stay there for a moment, admiring your features as you let the water roll over your skin.

He would be an even bigger liar if he said he wouldn't like to see you that way again.

"Its ok, we can find a way to heat the water up." He spoke before leaving the room with a sultry smirk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am thinking of writing a second part to this with some smut in 🥵😉

I hope you enjoyed this part Xxxx

@nevereverlandboys @lady-of-lies @lonesome-loser @celestial-neverland

#ouat headcanon #ouat fic #ouat #ouat fanfiction #ouat imagine #ouat fan fic #ouat fan fiction #ouat ff #ouat season 3 #ouat s3 #ouat felix imagine #felix ouat #ouat felix #felix x reader #felix imagines #felix fic #felix headcanon #lost girl #lost boy #neverland #ouat au

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Fide (Eros p.t 13)

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Jonathan Byers x Reader (Unrequited)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Word Count: 3090

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Abuse mention

Author’s note: So am I 100% happy with the way this turned out? No. Am I still gonna post it? Yes. Why? Because I think that this is the best the wording is gonna get, I always forget how hard it is to write romantic love when you’ve never been in it.

Forever Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @steveharringtonofficial @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings @hargroovin @nistaposebno @giftofdreams @feverxxdream

Series Tag: @hargrovesgoldilocks @xicarcalii @wtf-richarddd @sighsophiia @baebee35 @ijustwantahugfromtennant @rhyxn @wearemightyghosts @random-stupid-stuffs @so-not-hotmess @warsintothestars @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @angellastor @aaliyonte @baileythepenguin @sleepyspacegal @kingbouji3 @abbyed @80steenmovie @ohtaylorrose @little-red-wolf-hood @peanutlicker5000 @demoncrypt1066 @jinx-is-fire 

Feedback Appreciated!!

Billy had been determined to figure out what happened at Vicki’s party and when you didn’t show up to school on Monday morning, his quest went outwards to his peers.

Unfortunately for him, nobody knew what happened. As it turns out, the only people to talk to him that night were Tina and Macy, who were too far blitz to remember what happened, Jonathan and Nancy, who insists that they didn’t do anything to her, and him. Five people. That was it. And three of them couldn’t remember what had happened.

He didn’t believe Nancy and Jonathan at first, he gone after them for days trying to muscle out the information, but they stuck to their story and, though it took him awhile, he realized that you weren’t upset with them. You continued to talk to them as if nothing had happened. That was the upsetting part-the obvious answer seemed wrong. That worried him more than anything else.

So he left them alone. There was nothing he could do if the answer wasn’t there, he had to find another solution. That solution became to watch out for you. Not obviously, of course, that would make him look foolish, but close enough to make sure you weren’t in harm’s way. Not that you usually were, but after the events of Vicki’s party, people seemed to be talking about you a bit more.

That was Billy’s fault, not that he realized it at the time. All his intense questioning caused a stir and people were more than inclined to look into her and exactly what happened that night. Billy hadn’t heard, but according to Hilary Caldwell, you did return to the party, crying your eyes out. You got back in your car and drove away, nearly hitting her and her friends as they crossed the road. This made the whole story a lot juicer, but Billy never heard it. You and Hilary weren’t friends and he wouldn’t intentionally seek her out unless he knew she knew something.

But everyone else heard some form of that story and spread it like wildfire. You became a woman scorn in some eyes, a helpless victim in others, and, in Tommy and Carol’s eyes, an annoying waif prone to crying fits. Tommy made that known to anyone who would listen and, because the boy has never learned his lesson, that person became Billy on Wednesday afternoon.

Since he dumped Valerie and you weren’t talking to him, Billy had returned to eating lunch with Carol and Tommy, only out of necessity seeing as it was December and it was too cold to eat outside. He mostly focused on picking at his meatloaf and cold green beans, trying to block out the sounds of Carol and Tommy’s annoying voices. But that day, Tommy had decided to be even more annoying than usual.

He turned to Billy, his mouth full of cheap ground beef and premade gravy, and said “You know man; it’s good to have you back. That psycho bitch Y/N turned you bitch.”

Billy rolled his eyes, noting how he stole one of his lines, but keeping his focus on his tray instead. He didn’t agree with what Tommy was saying but he didn’t feel like arguing with him about this-if Tommy needed to inflate his own ego by putting himself above you, then he’d let him purely because Billy knew it wasn’t true.

“She’s so pathetic,” Carol added “Effing switching from guy to guy, blubbering like a baby when Byers dumps like he’s actually worth crying over.”

“Fucking nut job, she’s insane dude. No matter how good that pussy was, she was not worth it.” Tommy laughed.

That’s when Billy snapped. He was on his feet before he’d realized that he was moving and his fist connected with Tommy’s jaw before he realized that hitting him could be the wrong choice.

“What did I say about talking about Y/N, dumbass?” he sneered. Tommy’s hand came to his jaw and, for a brief moment, it looked as though he wasn’t going to fight back. But then he was on his feet and a weak punch came directly for Billy face. It didn’t hurt, per say, nor did it surprise him. He chuckled darkly “Oh, now you’re dead, Hanson.”

Fortunately for Tommy, before Billy could pounce on him, Vice Principal Warner pulled Billy back. “My office, now Hargrove!” he snapped, tugging the boy out by his arm.

Of course, he got suspended. Fighting was punishable by suspension and he’d worn out all his chances, so he was gone for three days. And since he wasn’t going to school the next day anyway, skipping his afternoon classes wasn’t going to mean much. He left in a cloud of smoke and screeching tires.

Of course, you heard about it. The story was spread like wildfire throughout the student body. Any fight was interesting, but the added addition of it being over someone made it especially juicy. Rumours flew of the fight being over Valerie, who basked in the glow of attention, Vicki, who mostly kept her mouth latched around Steve’s, and, as per her own retelling, Carol.

You kept your head low, grateful that the fight didn’t seem to be about you. Billy was getting even more reckless and you almost wanted to seek him out and help him, but that meant speaking to him of your own free will and that wasn’t in the cards as of late. You were still too mad and broken to even think of speaking to him right now. You spent the rest of the day trying to push him from your mind and the afternoon out of school at the Hawkins Library, your home away from home.

When you finally had to go home, you thankfully found groceries in the fridge and your father asleep on the couch. You made dinner and brought your mother some, surprised to see her awake and doing something other than watching mindless TV; she was up in bed reading a knitting magazine. You made your father a plate and ate alone in your room. For the first time since meeting Billy, you felt lonely. You contemplated called Stacy but you weren’t in the mood to hear about her boyfriend or drama with Kristen, which seemed never ending. You went to bed early, wishing you could call Barb and sinking into the pain like a warm bath.

You woke up at midnight with a throat dryer than you ever felt before. You tiptoed downstairs, heading into the kitchen. The only light illuminating the kitchen was the moonlight from the open window and the small yellow light you’d forgotten to turn off hours early. You decided that you didn’t need more light than that and dug through the cupboard for a plastic cup you felt comfortable bringing upstairs. You filled the cup quickly under the sink and drank the whole thing in one giant gulp. You filled the cup again, leaning against the back of the sink, letting out a breath through your nose.

Then, someone rapped at the back door. And you dropped your cup, slapping one hand over your mouth to muffle the scream that emitted from your throat. You let your gaze linger to the window above the sink, hoping for some sign of who was there without actually going to the door.

The blue Camaro sat on the street outside. You groaned loudly, stomping to the door.

“Jesus Christ, are you looking to get murdered? Cause I was about to grab a knife and-” you started, but when your eyes flicked up to his face, the words ran dry in your mouth as you felt your eyes widen. You’d seen Billy look bad, beaten up by forces he never mentioned, but this was a new level. He looked absolutely terrible-there was blood crusted under his nose, his right eye blackened and there was a small cut on the bag under his eye, his lower lip fat and busted. Tommy could never do this much damage, even if he gathered his whole gang including Steve Harrington, the best fighter of all of them, which wasn’t to say much.

“Oh my God get in here!” you gasped, pulling him by the arm and pulling him inside. You grabbed the first aid kit off the shelf above the sink and led him upstairs, shushing him. You flicked on the overhead light in your room and locked the door.

“Sit.” You commanded, pushing him down onto the bed. You noted how he winced when you touched his left shoulder. You opened the old kit and knelt in from of him, removing an alcohol wipe and dabbing away the crusted blood. Billy winced when the wipe touched the cut on his eye, but he didn’t complain beyond that.

You placed a bit of pressure on the sides of his nose, checking for irregularities. You sighed “Well, it’s not broken. I’m gonna go get some ice, you stay here. Take off your shirt, I wanna check your shoulders.” You said.

“Always trying to get me naked, aren’t you?” he chuckled, wincing as he tried to pull his infamous smirk. You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the room. Billy sighed, watching you go. He knew you well enough to know that this was just you being nice. You were still upset and now, the obvious answer that it was his fault shined bright neon in his eyes. He settled in to try to fix the mess he wouldn’t admit that he caused.

When you returned, he had stripped off his shirt, the large bruise on his left shoulder fully on display. It was fading, a mark from another night, but he’d obvious been shoved into something or hit, based on the redness around it. You had to keep yourself from running your fingers over the constellations of freckles, moles, and tiny scars on his back, focusing on the bruise itself. You handed him one bag, pointing to your own eye to explain where to place it. He did as you did and you took your place behind him, icing the large bruise.

You sighed “So, are you ever gonna tell me what’s going on?” Billy grunted in response, not bothering to attempt to look at you. “I worry about you, Bill…” you muttered, letting your forehead rest on the top of his spine.

Billy’s gaze flicked to his hands, the faint bruises on his knuckles felt weak instead of strong now. He took a shaky breath. “My dad’s an asshole.” He admitted. You didn’t respond, unsure of what to say.

“When he gets pissed, he takes it out on me…” he muttered. You nodded, lifting your head to lean it on his uninjured shoulder.

“And he did…all this?” you asked. Billy nodded and let out small gasp, immediately embarrassed by it. You didn’t want to make a big deal of it all, you wanted to seem calm and understanding.

“I deserve it most of the time.” He added softly.

“Bill,” you whispered “You don’t deserved his shit.” You felt him nod and you turned to look up at him. “Do you have anyone you can call about this? I mean I don’t wanna tell you what to do but I think maybe having a backup plan, in case shit gets too bad, might be a good idea.” You asked.

Billy nodded again “My stepmom.” He said.

“Susan?” you asked.

“No, Karalee.” He replied, letting out a small sigh “When we moved out to Sacramento, he married this chick Karalee, nice lady, big house. When he’d get mad, she’d kick him out and take his house key, make him go handle it somewhere else. She watched out for me. But then he started in on her and she left him. Tried to take me with her, but it didn’t work out. Not her kid, courts ruled in the bastard’s favour. Gave me her number when we left, told me I can call if I need anything.” He said, lifting the small Virgin Mary charm he wore around his neck “Gave me this too, don’t know why but it was nice, best thing anyone did for me.”

You nodded softly “Good…” you muttered, wrapping your arms around his middle “I don’t like seeing you hurt…”

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He replied forcefully, turning to look at you “Y/N, when’re you gonna tell me what happened? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I just-” you sighed “It’s embarrassing and I don’t wanna talk about it. You’ll laugh at me.”

“No I won’t.” Billy retorted, watching you carefully.

“You already did…” you muttered and Billy found himself shut right up. Everything he’d been trying to pretend wasn’t true was and he felt like an ass. All that work, all that searching and sleuthing and it was his own pigheadedness that caused all this.

“I’m sorry…” he replied softly. You nodded, looking up at him. His whole face was broken with concern and disappointment. Not in you, but in himself. He looked so upset. It broke your heart a little.

“You weren’t sober, I get it.” You replied “I’m not mad at you anymore, I’m just embarrassed.” You said.

“If it makes you feel better, I can’t remember anything you said.” Billy replied.

“Really?” you asked, a small smile breaking onto your face. You didn’t know if he was telling the truth, despite how solemn he looked, and that made you nervous to accept the words as truth.

“All I can remember is you leaving crying, not a great image.” He said.

You chuckled drily “Sorry ‘bout that one, bud.” Billy felt his face pull into a smirk, which hurt his lip but he didn’t mind this time. Now, the minor pain of his busted lip pulling didn’t compare to the warmth filling his whole body, like the California sun warming his skin on one of his family’s rare beach days.

“Nah could’ve been worse. Could’ve been Carol crying, she looks like she’s melting. It’s nauseating.” He replied. You chuckled, nodding along. You’d only seen her cry once, but it looked like someone took a hairdryer to a velvet painting.

When your laughter died down, you found yourself smiling, leaning into his shoulder. It was a brief moment-nothing you hadn’t done before, but Billy found the moment suddenly very private and intimate. His smirk fell into a small smile and his hand came instinctually around to touch you, his hand coming to your ankle and his thumb grazed it lovingly. The whole moment felt out of time, as though you’d entered a different universe where everything was normal. If you could have lived in this moment forever, where you could pretend that Billy cared for you the way you cared for him, you would’ve. But you had to return to the real world.

“How’d it go with Val? You two talk it through?” you asked.

Billy shrugged “We broke up.” He said, as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Huh?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him fully “I thought you were in love with her?”

Billy shook his head, trying to understand the logic. “Where the hell did you get that idea from?” he countered.

“From you!” you said “You told me that you loved her after Vicki’s party, that you couldn’t dump her for that reason alone!”

Billy fell silent. He did know what to say-you were right, he did think that he loved her once, back when things were simple and loving, but that feeling fell away after weeks of Valerie putting him off for people she deemed as more important or better than him. Vicki’s party was the last straw for him.

“I…I don’t think I did, I mean I did once, but not then. I was over her then. I think.” He stuttered.

You shrugged “Eh, you were drunk; you were doing a lot of stupid shit. There was a keg, I’m sure you did a keg stand or four. Saying that you love someone when you don’t is only a problem when you say it to that person. Otherwise you’re fine.” You explained softly.

Billy found himself agreeing, nodding along with you as though you spoke a gospel. “You’re right, you’re right, you’re really smart, you know that?” he said.

You smirked “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Billy rolled his eyes, turning to face the window. You followed suit and Billy wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and returning you to the position you’d been in before, leaning on his shoulder. Through your blinds, a full moon lit the room and you contemplated getting up and pulling the blinds, letting in all the light, and turning off the bright yellow light that hurt your eyes.

You sighed “Let’s stay here forever, yeah?” you muttered dreamily.

“Up in your bedroom? Pretty sure your mom would find us soon enough, definitely before we starved to death.” Billy replied softly, teasing you just a little. The idea didn’t feel bad to him, which felt even stranger than it should’ve.

You giggled, shaking your head slightly. “No, I mean here, in this moment. It’s so quiet and peaceful and nobody wants anything from us. We don’t have to be anything or do anything. Let’s just stay here, okay?” you replied, the dreaminess in your voice increasingly becoming evident of your tiredness.

“Yeah, sure why not?” he muttered. Billy looked down at you, watching the way you snuggled into him, trying to harness the warmth his body emitted. You look so small; soft and sweet and innocent and curled so close to him. If Billy had felt butterflies in his stomach around a girl recently, or even at all, he would’ve known the feeling well enough to identify it in that moment. He would’ve known the meaning of the feeling. But Billy didn’t know the feeling well enough and chalked it up to some form of late onset nausea from the pain inflicted on him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss in your hair and moving you into your own bed, chuckled at the small whine you emitted as he lifted you away from him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, kid…” he muttered in your ear, pushing off the bed and out the door, flicking off the light as he left. He snuck downstairs and out the side door again.

You two were going to be okay. This was proof. The butterflies be damned.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy x you #billy x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove au #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove aus #stranger things aus #stranger things imagines #stranger things headcanon #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic

[zazigah]

Soulmates (Jake x MC) - part 2

Pairing: MC (Taylor) x Jake

Warnings: None

Summary: Almost six years after La Huerta Diego persented a girl to Jake that looks exactly like Taylor, but who Is she?

Author’s Notes:So I was not happy with any of the endings of Endless Summer. I’ve played all the three and choose to end the book staying at the island but I thought it would be nice to think that something else could happen if you choose to join Vaanu, so this is my version of what happened after it. It’s a long story and I’ll post the next chapters of it on the next days, hope you enjoy it.

You can read part 1 here

Tag List: @lahuertasprincess @neonschoices @endless-jake @thequeenchoices @whitlockandfriends @syltti78 @choicesyouplayandmore @heart-jake @zigmundortega @bigbabypuddingsnatcher47 @lazychic28 @mythup @bignerdsoul @milliehxoxo @princesstopgun @hlm2017

If you wish to be tagged on the next parts of it please let me know.

I think she recognized you.

Diego's words kept echoing through his mind during the entire night. The next day came and he realized he had to see her again, he had to try to understand this. This time he texted Diego to meet him at the coffee shop where she worked. He arrived early, to make sure he would have some minutes to look at her before Diego came. Jake sat on a table by the window and in a few minutes she came to ask him if he wanted to order something.

"Do you want to order something... hey; you're Diego's friend from yesterday, aren't you? You left in a rush"

"Yeah, I was not feeling well"

"Oh sorry to hear that, are you feeling better now? Do you have a flu or something? Maybe I can recommend you a tea"

Jake had no idea of what to say to her, he never felt so nervous around someone before.

"Yeah, maybe some tea would be fine... Anne." He answered looking at the name tag on her uniform. She gave him a questioning look, then looked at the tag and laughed.

"Oh no, I took the wrong tag again. I'm not Anne, I'm Taylor, nice to meet you..." She extended her hand towards him waiting for him to present himself.

It took him a few seconds to recover and be able to talk to her again.

"J--Jake"

"Nice to meet you Jake" She said with that smile that he loved and missed so much and all he could do was get lost in her blue eyes until Diego's voice brought him back.

"Taylor, I see you've met my friend Jake"

"Well,  you weren't here to present us so I had to do it by myself" she said grinning "The usual for you?"

"Yes please"

The girl left and Diego started talking to Jake.

"So... do you believe me now? She has the same face, same age and even the same name, it's her"

"But how?"

"I don't know. But I do know she has no memory of me or La Huerta,  but she seems to have recognized you"

"What do you mean she recognized me?"

“She asked me if I have ever brought you here before because she thought she knew you. I’ve told her it was the first time you were here and asked her if this was her way of saying she was interested in you and she said that she really thought she’d seen you before but that she also found you cute.” In any other similar situation Jake would have a lot of jokes to make but today he just couldn’t find words, so he kept silent. Taylor brought him tea and coffee for Diego and for the next 30 minutes he drank his tea and listened to all the things his friend knew about this girl that couldn’t be her, but somehow was.

_____________________

"Out of the waaay" she heard one of her colleagues screaming and moved in a hurry while the other girl passed with a tray full of plates. Taylor was distracted, she haven't been able to think straight since the guy entered the coffee shop earlier today. Jake, she felt something different when he told her his name, something good. Now she was staring at him and trying to understand why she felt that way around him.She was never one of weird feelings and considered herself a very skeptical person, but that was before, it was the other Taylor life, the Taylor from before the accident.

Ever since the car crash that killed her parents her life had changed completely and for the last four years since she returned from the coma all she did was follow signs and feelings. At first she felt like something was missing, but she believed it was because she had lost her family. After a year she realized it was more than that when the dreams began. Taylor would often dream about a man in a green jacket piloting a plane, but she could never see his face. In other nights she would dream about blue eyes and hear a voice saying I love you Princess. Every morning she would write whatever information she remembered of her dreams, trying to find some clue on them. One morning, six months after the dreams began she had a clue: Louisiana. So Taylor decided she had to go there and try to find it. The dreams never stopped or changed. After two years in Louisiana she gave up finding it there and moved to New York guided by the same feeling that had recently taken her to Hartfeld, like whatever she was looking for was moving.

She looked the two men talking again and saw Diego leaving to answer his phone. It was probably his husband Varryn calling, in the few weeks sincethey met each other Diego told her more than once about this wonderful guy he met on a summer trip to a tropical island. Their romance seemed like something out of a fairytale and she could see the way his eyes shined when he spoke about Varryn. It was funny that she had known Diego for such a short time but felt like they were friends for years. It was one of those weird signs life had gave her but one she felt very grateful for as he was the only real friend she made after she lost her family.

As she watched Diego returned to the table and said something to Jake then left. She was on her way to talk to him when another table called her to take an order. By the time she returned with the order Jake was gone and one of the other girls was collecting the empty cups from the table. Her heart started to beat fast and before she knew what she was doing she walked to the girl. 

"The guy that was at this table, where is he?"

"He left less than a minute ago" 

"I’m taking a 5 minutes break, cover for me please?” She said walking to the door without waiting for the answer. She got out and scanned the street looking for him, only to find him crossing the street half a block away from her. The early evening air was cold but Taylor ran to catch up to him.

Jake was about to cross another street so she started screaming his name to make him stop. When Taylor was able to finally reach him she had to catch her breath for a second and held his shoulder for support. She felt electricity running through her body when he held her arm to help her. 

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, just not used to run"

"Take your time" Jake told her and she could see he had no idea on why she ran after him that way.

"Look, I just have this weird thing, like a voice inside my head and it told me I had to come after you,  now I came and I don't really know what to do... I have to go back to work - she said searching her apron for a pen a some paper - I'll give you my phone number, can you please call me?" She gave him the paper and for a second he only stared the number.

"Taylor..."

"Please, just call me ok?"

"Ok"

Taylor smiled at him and ran back to work knowing that now she would wait for him to call. That night when she arrived home all she could think about was Jake.  Would he call her? Would he think she was crazy? She decided to watch some tv before having dinner and ended up sleeping. In her dreams she saw Jake in a plane, he was the man wearing the green jacket. There was a storm and the plane seemed to be falling. She woke up scared when her phone started ringing and she answered sleepy.

"Taylor? It's Jake. You asked me to call you so..."

#playchoices #jake mckenzie #jake x mc #jake mckenzie fanfic #choices #endless summer #choices fanfic

[andwejust-ran]

I’m Your Man-Chapter 3

Thanks for all your kind comments and feedback. I’m so glad that you enjoy it! It’s a challenging story to write, but it’s also fun to explore!

Everyone enjoyed the impromptu Barbecue so much, that it quickly became a weekly event. Hopper even purchased a large picnic table set, to make it more official. Each week, dinner grew more and more elaborate as the trailer became a revolving door of teens. On this night, in late June, Nancy, Mike, and Dustin arrived with armfuls of desserts that Mrs. Wheeler had helped them prepare.

Joyce was busy organizing the food in Hopper’s small kitchen, when he stepped in with a plate of raw meat. “I might have to splurge on a new grill soon. This one's on its last legs.”

Joyce kept her focus on a tray of cupcakes. “We’ve got some left at the store.” The blue and red icing was melting off from the summer heat. She was determined to save them. With a frown, she added, “70% off.” Melvald’s was officially closing. By the end of the summer, she would be jobless, and with it, another weight added to her already sagging shoulders.

Hopper mindlessly grabbed a beer out of the fridge. “I’ll have to stop in before this one craps out.” His can popped open with a loud hiss. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and then rested the can against his face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Joyce noticed Hopper staring at her. “What?” When he didn’t stop staring, she stopped to shoot him a confused look. “What are you looking at?”

Sheepishly, he darted his gaze away. “Nothing.”

“Hopper.”  She pointed an icing covered finger at him. “What is it?”

The kitchen didn’t leave much room for personal space. He tried not to crowd her, but his large frame made it nearly impossible. “Joyce, uh, when are you gonna tell the boys? You know, about the baby?” the last part of his question was almost inaudible.

The pair had spent the last few weeks blatantly ignoring her pregnancy. It was always there, of course, hanging heavy between them, but they never acknowledged it. It was easier to live in denial. His sudden mention of it annoyed her.

“I don’t know.” She went back to her task, but found herself too flustered to concentrate.

“I think, it’s gonna have to be soon.”

With a dramatic sigh, she gave up on the cupcakes and stole a napkin to wipe her hands. “What are you talking about, Hopper?” The longer she waited to tell Will and Jonathan, the harder it became. Inevitably, she had to tell them. She was well aware of that fact, but the thought of explaining the circumstances to them, left her feeling panicked.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s getting kinda obvious.”

Her movements stilled. Self-consciously, she glanced down at her loose white t-shirt. She had been blessed with a petite frame that hadn’t changed much, even during her first two pregnancies. Her third pregnancy, however, was proving to be the exception. Her old ripped jeans barely fit and she was grateful that most of her shirts weren’t form fitting.

Hopper hesitated. Discussing a woman’s weight was never wise, so he opted to tread carefully. “I can see it in your face.”

Her hands went immediately to her cheeks. Then, she shot him a glare. “Don’t say that.”

Hopper shrugged “Sorry.” He wasn’t all that sorry, though. To him, she had always been beautiful, but now, he noticed it even more. “Pregnancy looks good on you, if it makes you feel better.”

Joyce ignored his compliment as anxiety built up inside of her. It was always like this. She would have moments of complete peace, where she was calm and content, and then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, it would be ruined by some glaring reminder of impending doom. If pregnancy was doing wonders for her appearance, it certainly wasn’t doing wonders for her battle with anxiety.

“I can’t tell them,” she insisted, while pulling the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth.

Hopper heaved a deep chuckle. “They’re a little old to believe that Santa left a baby under the tree, Joyce.”

Joyce swatted his bare arm, and then fanned her flushed face. The hottest part of the day was done. The sinking sun provided some relief, but their bodies acted like a furnace in the confined space. “They’re not gonna wanna hear that their mom got knocked up by some guy in a bar.”

Hopper nodded in agreement, but then smirked. “It’ll be hard to have those condom talks with them after this, that’s for sure.”

Even in the worst of times, their banter was like a comfort blanket. They slipped in and out of seriousness with skilled precision. Their shared history, once considered a weakness before the events of the past two years, now worked in their favor.

“I’m screwed.”

Hopper crossed his arms. Dryly, he said, “Just tell them it’s mine. Everyone will be thinking it anyway.” His joke was met with her disapproving frown and he was instantly confused. “What’s the face for?”

To the tiny part of her that wished that the baby was his, the joke felt like a slap in the face. Instantly, her walls went up to protect herself. “That’s the last thing I need.”

Straightening up, Hopper’s features turned tense. He was offended, but wasn’t sure why. “So telling them that I’m the father would be worse than the truth?”

Refusing to get into an argument over something that could never be, Joyce rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t even matter, Hop. John’s the father and I’ll have to tell them that, and then die of embarrassment.”

“John?” bristled Hopper. “I thought you didn’t know his name?”

“I don’t know his last name.”

Hopper crossed his arms. His entire demeanor grew dark as jealousy raced through him. “Right.” Up until now, the man was a ghost. A nobody. It was easy to pretend that he didn’t exist at all. But now, he had a name, and it wouldn’t be long before his mind started inventing a face to add to it.

Joyce noticed the obvious change in him, but didn’t want to think too much about it. Thinking too much would only lead to trouble. Instead, she glanced out the window where six teens of various ages were playing Frisbee. The air around them was tense and she was eager to end the conversation. Luckily, the smoking grill gave her an out. “I think the grill’s ready. Or it’s on fire.”

Hopper followed her gaze out the window and then cursed under his breath. Brooding in silence, he grabbed the plate of meat and let the door slam shut on his way out.

***

   Dinner with 8 people crammed around a picnic table was chaos, but it was the good kind of chaos. The kind of chaos that one misses years down the road when things are entirely too quiet and too mundane. Despite their earlier tension, Joyce and Hopper were fine together once they were distracted by the conversations around them.

During a lull, Jonathan pointed to his mother as she finished her third pickle. “Since when do you eat pickles?” He looked to Will who was seated beside him. “Have you ever seen her eat a pickle?”

From across the table, Will watched as Joyce licked the tangy juice off her lips. As if he were the parent and she were the child, he suspiciously said, “You hate pickles.”

Joyce played off her craving with an indifferent shrug. “They’re not so bad.”

Beside her, Hopper held up the pickle jar to examine it. “I’d say so. They’re almost gone.”

Surrounded by her kids, their friends, and Hopper, Joyce was in good spirits, so she didn’t take their teasing seriously. “This coming from the guy who invented the ‘Ego-Extravaganza’.”

Hopper’s mouth curved up into a guilty grin. “Touché.”

Neither adult noticed Jane’s perplexed expression. Sandwiched in between Mike and Will, she studied Joyce with hawk like focus. Then, out of the blue, Jane’s flat toned comment stunned the table into silence. “Pregnant.”

Hopper, who had just taken a sip of water, started to choke. The commotion diverted the attention away from Joyce’s blanched face. “Jesus,” he blurted, once he recovered. “What are you talking about?”

Jane didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Erica’s pregnant. She loves pickles.”

Hopper’s heavy brows furrowed. “Erica?”

It was Nancy who explained, “Yeah. Erica Kane, from All My Children.” She smiled down the table at Jane. She herself, indulged in the guilty pleasure from time to time.

“We’re talking about TV?” Hopper let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Hey, it’s a good show!” exclaimed Nancy.

Jonathan nudged her gently in the side. “None of that stuff’s real, you know. It’s not like my mom’s pregnant just because she likes pickles.” His eyes were bright with playfulness and he had a smile on his face, until he looked at his mother’s panicked expression. His face fell as he asked, “Right, mom?” Joyce looked away, but her gaze fell on Hopper, and Jonathan watched in horror as they exchanged a furtive glance.

The table was so quiet, that you could hear a pin drop. Hoping to save Joyce from humiliation, Hopper spoke up. “TV rots your brain.”

Jonathan spoke right over him. “Mom?” He got her attention by asking, “Are you pregnant?”

Without making a sound, Joyce’s mouth opened and closed. Shamefully, she kept her gaze on her son as she nodded in confirmation. She wanted to reassure him. She wanted to be the mother he needed, but in that moment, she was frozen in fear. Her vision tunneled, so that only his angry expression was visible to her.

Jonathan’s cheeks turned red. “You’re pregnant.” It was a statement, not a question. He looked away from her to stare accusingly at Hopper. “She’s pregnant?”

Hopper immediately held up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’ve got nothing to do with this.” The words sounded light hearted in his head, but didn’t come out that way. Helplessly, he looked to Joyce, only to find a hurt look on her face. Hopper tried to apologize, but their attention was soon stolen by Jonathan.

“If it’s not him, then…then who?” His body was tense with the emotions that he was bottling up. “Do you have some boyfriend lurking around?”

Everyone was waiting for an answer. Under their heavy stares, Joyce’s anxiety grew. She looked to Will and his wide brown eyes rendered her speechless. When she finally could speak, her mouth was painfully dry. “Let’s talk at home.”

Jonathan was up and standing before she had even finished speaking. Incredulously, he spat, “At home?” His mind raced, as he tried to put all the pieces together. “You’re having a baby and you wanna talk at home?”

“Jonathan,” Joyce begged.

Instead of listening, he crossed his arms and glared back at her. “I don’t wanna talk at home. I don’t wanna talk, at all.” As his emotions took over, his voice rose to a yell. He completely forgot his surroundings and the fact that they had an audience. “I don’t understand you, mom! I don’t understand what the hell you’re doing.”

It was Hopper who gruffly responded, before Joyce could. “Calm down, kid.”

Jonathan snorted and shook his head. An anti-authoritative remark was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t look at anyone before storming away, towards the lake.

Hesitantly, Nancy stood up. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Byers.” She looked to Joyce and then towards her boyfriend’s fleeing form. “I’ll go talk to him.” Nancy turned away, but then stopped, as if she had forgotten something. With a sheepish smile, she turned back around and addressed Joyce again. “Um, congratulations…on the baby.” With an awkward nod towards Hopper, she went after Jonathan.

Everyone at the table was quiet for so long that the silence grew painful. Dustin and Mike shared puzzled looks while Will played with his food. Jane glanced between the adults, desperately trying to comprehend what was going on around her.

Out of the blue, Joyce closed her eyes and put a trembling hand to her mouth. “I’ll be back.” Her morning sickness, that had been getting better, was now back with a vengeance. She darted away from the table and into the trailer before anyone could say anything.

Lips pursed in concern, Hopper watched her go, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought about following her, but then he noticed Will and Jane’s fearful expressions and stayed put. “She’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” insisted Jane. “I hurt her.”

Hopper was confused. “She’s not upset, she’s just been getting sick sometimes.”

As if Hopper knew nothing about women, Dustin advised, “Um, she’s definitely upset.”

Mike, who was sitting beside Dustin, shoved his friend in the side. “Mrs. Byers isn’t upset at her, though.” He then turned his attention to Jane. “It’s not your fault, El.” Mike and Jane’s hands were already joined, so he squeezed it for reassurance.

The girl eventually believed him, though it didn’t make her thoughts any clearer. Her brown eyes shifted to Hopper. “Joyce is having a baby. Not you?”

Hopper’s face was hidden in his hands. Dustin chuckled at her statement, but Hopper understood exactly what she meant. This wasn’t the type of discussion he wanted to have ever, let alone at the dinner table. He removed his hands and swiftly nodded. “Yeah.”

Jane’s face grew determined, in the way it always did when she was on a mission for answers. “You’ll be the dad, though?”

Her question threw him through a loop again. “No, Jane...the baby isn’t mine. I’m not the dad.”

“You will be.”

He tried not to lose his patience, but it wasn’t easy. His back ached from the picnic table bench and his mind kept wandering to Joyce. “That’s not how it works.” Off in the distance, he could just make out Jonathan and Nancy’s silhouettes as they walked towards his car. “We can talk about it more, later. Okay?” He was eager to end the discussion, once and for all. He wasn’t the father. That fact couldn’t be changed, and Joyce seemed fine with that. Her earlier words were still running through his mind.

Jane shot him an incredulous glare. “But you knew she was having a baby.”

Hopper finally lost his patience and with it, his voice rose. “Yeah kid, I knew. Alright? So what?  We’re friends. You and I will talk about it later.” In reality, he hoped that the subject would never come up again, but he knew that was next to impossible.

“Why later?” came Dustin’s outraged question. Hopper stared him down with a deathly still stare, but Dustin wasn’t intimidated. “What? It’s not like she’s gonna be any less pregnant later.”

Mike made a disgusted face. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “It’s Biology. Look it up.”

“Ew. Gross. What the hell, Dustin. I’m not looking it up.”

“Mrs. Byers is pregnant.” Dustin motioned to his stomach with his arms. “As in, having a baby…as in, Will’s gonna have a baby around the house, soon. Why is no one getting this?”

In frustration, Mike threw a hamburger bun at his friend. Dustin caught it in one hand and lobbed it back at him. They kept up their antics until Hopper’s stern tone told them to quit it. His tense features kept them from continuing. His face softened however, when he noticed that Will had remained quiet for far too long.

“You okay, buddy?” Hopper’s annoyance evaporated as Will helplessly shrugged. “Hey, I know it’s a shock.”

Though he was a teenager, Will’s eyes were filled with childlike innocence. “My mom has a new boyfriend? I didn’t know that.”

“Oh.” Hopper couldn’t help him there. “Uh, well, you’ll have to talk to her about that.” He couldn’t be the one to explain things to him, and he felt bad about that.

“I thought maybe…” Will’s cheeks colored as his words trailed off. Shyly, he ducked his head down. He was too embarrassed to finish his sentence.

Jane, however, wasn’t embarrassed. She took right over where Will left off. “We thought you were her boyfriend.”

Hopper’s brows arched in surprise. “What?”

“You’re always together.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m her boyfriend,” he insisted. With a groan, he looked to the trailer and was relieved to see Joyce making her way back. He could deal with monsters, mayors, and mayhem, but when it came to four teenagers with too many questions, he had to throw in the towel. Hopper got up and met Joyce halfway.

She answered his question before he had a chance to ask. “I’m okay.”

Her face was pale and clammy. He shook his head in disbelief. “I can hold down the fort, if you wanna go sit down inside.” His eyes darted back to the table before refocusing on her. He had done a terrible job of holding things together while she was inside before, but he would try it again, for her.

“Thanks, but I should go home.” Frantically, she looked around his tall frame until she saw her son. “Will, honey, let’s go.” She had lost all control over the situation and was desperate to regain some. Hopper moved to put his hands on her shoulders, but she stepped back before he could. In a no nonsense tone, she snapped, “I’m fine, Hop.”

Looming over her, he stared her down intensely before finally giving up. Seconds later, Will was at their side. “Jonathan left with Nancy.”

Joyce let out a dejected sigh. “Okay.”

Hopper squeezed Will’s shoulder, but spoke only to her. “Call me if you need to talk later.” At her sour look, he spoke even louder, “I mean it. Call me.” She didn’t respond, but, he wasn’t surprised at that. Silently, he watched her walk away. Around him, the crickets chirped and at the table, the three remaining teens spoke in hushed whispers. Hopper stood there until the sun sank beneath the horizon and the lightning bugs began to blink.

***

        Joyce’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight on the way home. Will hadn’t looked at her, not once. Driving didn’t stop her from constantly glancing his way, though. The silence was too much. It was worse than an awkward conversation.

Finally, she had enough. “Baby, talk to me. Please.” As a family, they had been through worse. She wasn’t going to let this destroy them.

Will’s response was soft. “I don’t know what to say.” He wasn’t angry, like his brother, but he wasn’t happy, either. His unhappiness radiated off of him in invisible waves.

Joyce let out a relieved breath. At least he said something. In that moment, she would take anything. “Okay, how about how you’re feeling?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’d be cool…to have a baby around.” His words were optimistic, but his tone lacked the excitement needed to pull it off. The idea of a younger sibling didn’t scare him, like the Shadow Monster or the Upside Down, but it felt off in a way that he couldn’t put into words.

She hadn’t practiced what to say, but luckily, her many years of parental experience took over. “It’ll be an adjustment. For all of us…I know. It’s taking me a long time to process it all, too, but it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it all out, as a family. Like always. I promise.”

Will met her eyes and managed a weak smile. The idea of his mother being pregnant embarrassed him. He didn’t want to think about any of it, but he had questions, ones that his mind wouldn’t allow to go unanswered. “Who’s your new boyfriend?”

This time, Joyce kept her eyes on the road. She allowed silence to drift between them for a bit as she thought about the best thing to say. Honesty had always been her policy when it came to being a single parent. She let it guide her. “I don’t have one.” At a stop sign, she finally glanced towards Will again and her face fell at his confused expression. “The babies father...he um, well. He’s not from around here. So he won’t be involved in this.” A horn behind them honked loudly and she let out a sigh when she was forced to move her eyes back to the road in order to drive.

It took Will some time to understand the meaning of her words. His cheeks turned red when the pieces finally fell into place. “So, it, I mean, the baby, won’t have a dad?” His question was laced with disappointment. He knew what it was like to grow up pretty much without one. His throat burned with emotion knowing that his sibling would suffer the same fate.

“No.” When she stopped the car at the top of their long driveway, Joyce turned towards him and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, honey. This is a mess, I know. It’s gonna be okay, though. I promise. And you can talk to me, like always. That’s not gonna change.”

Staring into her tearful eyes, Will didn’t have the heart to make her more upset by voicing his feelings. He was never good at hiding things from her, but with a fake smile, he tried to anyway. “It’s okay, mom. I know it’ll work out.” She pulled him into a hug then, and Will was relieved that he could let his smile fall against her shoulder.

***

“Joyce, listen to me, it’s Jonathan. Alright? He’s not gonna do anything stupid.”

Through the phone, Hopper’s voice offered little comfort. Joyce had the long phone cord wrapped around her hands as she spoke in hushed tones. “It’s after Midnight Hop, and he’s not home. He’s never done this before. He usually calls.”

“He’s probably just blowing off steam. He’s a teenager.”

Frustrated that her concerns weren’t being taken seriously, Joyce shook her head. “And what if he’s not? Hopper, Karen said Nancy came home two hours ago. Jonathan was headed home and now he’s not here. So where the hell’s my son?” Will was asleep, so she tried to keep her tone low, but it was a difficult task.

Hopper’s disgruntled sigh was loud in her ear. Despite all they had been through, it was clear that he wasn’t concerned. Still, he offered, “Do you want me to go out looking?”

Joyce almost said yes, but instead she took some deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves. This wasn’t like before. This wasn’t a crisis. This was just typical teenage parenting. She ran those thoughts over and over in her mind, hoping that it would help stall the panic attack that was slowly building up.

“Joyce, you there?”

The front door suddenly opened and closed. Overcome with relief, she peered into the living room to see Jonathan. “He’s here. He’s home.” She didn’t say goodbye before hanging up. Nervously running her hands down her sides, she locked eyes with her son for several long seconds before she rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around him. “Dammit, Jonathan. You scared me.”

With stiff limbs, he let her embrace him, but made no move to return the hug. “I’m sorry, mom.” His apology was sincere, but guarded.

“Don’t do that to me.” Joyce pulled her body away, but kept her hands on his shoulders. “Where’ve  you been? Nancy came home hours ago.”

Jonathan lowered his head in shame. “I just needed some time.”

Joyce’s tone took on a shrill quality as it rose. “Jesus Jonathan, you need to call me. You can’t just disappear.”

He finally lifted his head, letting her see the storm brewing inside his eyes. “I’m sorry, I am, but you...you can’t just drop a bombshell on us like that and expect everything to be fine. It’s not fine, mom.”

Seeing the turmoil on her son’s face broke her heart. “I know, I know it’s not fine. But I need you to talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” He shrugged off her hands and stepped away. Time and space had not given him any sort of clarity. Their family, the three of them, they had barely survived at times. How was a baby going to make things easier?

Jonathan tried to move past her, but her small frame blocked his path down the hall. Desperately she begged, “Please, honey. Talk to me.”

“What are we supposed to talk about?” All night he had been holding in his emotions. His frustration and anger had slowly built up until an explosion was inevitable. His hands went into the air as his voice rose. “I know it’s been hard since Bob. I know things haven’t been easy, but you go and decide to have a baby? What the hell, mom?”

His words stung, more than she had imagined they would. Still, she was determined to make things right. Her shaky hands reached for his arms. “It was an accident, and I know it’s a lot to take in. Believe me, I know, but we need to talk about it.”

With an angry sigh, Jonathan shook his head. “I just don’t understand what’s going on with you. This is crazy.”

Joyce bit her lip. “I know…”

“Do you?” He pulled away from her again and this time he backed well out of her reach. “Because back at dinner, you and Hopper, you were just acting like this is all so freaking normal. I didn’t even know you were dating again.”

Her own frustration was growing at the fact that he wouldn’t listen to her. “I wasn’t. I’m not!” With a glare, Jonathan stormed towards his room, but she was quick on his heels, following him. He paused when he made it to his room and she used it as an opportunity to explain herself. “It was a one time thing.” Discussing the specifics with her teenage son was the last thing she wanted to do, but she owed him some honesty. “He’s not in the picture, he doesn’t even live around here. It was a mistake...one that I would take back if I could, but I can’t and I’m sorry.”

The implication of her words made his chest burn with fury. All those awkward talks, all those safe sex talks that made him want to crawl into a hole and die, and now she was the one who messed up. The hypocrisy made his blood boil. There were so many things that he wanted to say. He opened his door and shook off her hand again as it tried to reach for him. Instead of screaming at her, like he wanted to, he refused to meet her eyes and lowered his tone. “Well, the baby can have my room once I leave for school next year,” he seethed. “I’ll be gone. I won’t be needing it anymore.” Before she could object, he slammed the door shut.

Stunned, Joyce stared at the barrier separating her and her son with her mouth open. She held her hand there, touching each grain of wood as tears slipped out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

#fanfic #jopper #angst #baby fic #jopper4eva

[gutterdreams]

First off, love the blog and your writing! Second off; would you please do one for Billy with prompt #126. What are you not telling me?

Thanks for the kindness!

“What are you not telling me?”

Billy was grateful to you for a hundred things, but he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his life would not function without your penchant for organization. He used to have individual socks all over the floor, spare change hidden in every crevice of his bachelor space, and (according to him) ‘no time to clean’. He had been reluctant to let you move in and claim ownership over his six hundred square feet of space, but it had been a God send. He had a fridge calender that was color coated, he had a coffee machine and a coin tray, and he had someone who liked vacuum, or sometimes, motivated him to do it himself. The naked laundry folding parties on Sunday afternoons had been one of his favorite new traditions. Watching highlights from the hockey game that he had already watched the night before with his friends at the pub, Billy laid zoned out on the bed in the living room while you were sitting like a little toadstool at the corner by his feet, going over your dayplanner. You were going to write your real estate exam at the end of the month, so you wanted to know what to expect from the rest of November. “We have your work Christmas party on Friday.” You said above the commercial that was on, tapping the side of Billy’s foot with your pen. “I know.” He hadn’t mentioned it lately, but that wasn’t out of character for Billy. He didn’t get excited like you did over a night out especially if that night out was just in a banquet hall with all the 500 people who worked at the same trucking company as he did. “I have a study date with Rachel, but I’ll cut it early and we can leave around six.” With your attention on the black leather book open between your knees, you mentioned and started scribbling the plan in. “Uh, don’t worry about it. Do your study thing.” Billy sat up and interjected, turning down the television volume as he did. “You don’t want me to come?” Head up, you shook away some hairs and asked. “No, it’s fine. I just…we don’t have to go.” “I know we don’t have to, but we thought it sounded kind of fun.” You shrugged. A lot of the guys at work were older than Billy and you were encouraging of him spending time with the kinder ones, the ones who didn’t drink their paychecks at the end of every week. “It could be fun to just hang out here too.” When you met Billy last year, he was the life of the party and it seemed like that was how all of his friends identified him. Lately though, he had become a homebody. A creature of habit. You credited the change to the structure of his new job for Greyson Transport. “We don’t have an open bar.” Pushing your lips together like a duck’s bill, you pointed out. Billy nodded in agreement. “Who cares? Let’s just stay in.” He shrugged anyway. It wasn’t unusual for Billy to not want to tuck in a dress shirt and go to a sit down dinner, but it was very strange for him to turn down an open bar. As he laid back down, you turned your head over your shoulder and watched him return his gaze to the TV. “What are you not telling me?” Through an amused smile, you asked.“What?” Eyes squinted inward, he asked back. “You aren’t saying something on purpose. I can tell. We share a very tiny apartment, I know you very well.” Billy sighed loudly, blowing hair from his face due to force, and tried to buy himself some time to concoct an answer better than the truth. It took too long though and your batted lashes were waiting. “Remember when we first started hanging out and I said I couldn’t be with you until I tied up some loose ends…” Billy drummed up and dusted off an old story that he hated. It made him look good and he wished that your relationship had started off without any drama.“Yeah, you had to tell a bunch of girls you were routinely sleeping with that it was over.” Nodding along, you tried to quicken the pace of the story. It had been a long time ago and it stopped stinging around the time you moved in with him. “And that one girl showed up at your work and screamed and all that…” It was the Reader’s Digest version of what happened.“Kiki What’s-Her-Tits, yeah.” You knew what her last name was. The cops had informed you, but you were purposefully leaving it out due to pettiness.“Um….” Billy scratched at his head and held his mouth open, trying to put off the rest of his explination. “Yeah, uh, I think I’ve mentioned that she started working for Greyson last year, right?” He knew he hadn’t. Your eyes were drained of their usual bright color as you stated at Billy with a look that could inspire murder in the most innocent of minds. “Well, she did. She works in administration.”“You work with her?” Just like that, the night had gone from zero to one hundred. You shut your book and bounced off the bed to stand in front of the television. Billy rolled his eyes and shut off the TV, pointing the remote between your breast and armpit. “How did you not mention that some crazy twat who you used to sleep with and who threw a broom at me and called me a 'homewrecking bitch’ works with you?! Billy?!” Up and down, you bounced on your toes in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t have liked the way you looked, so Billy focused on concealing his smile. “Because I knew you would have this reaction!” He shot out an arm and directed it at you. The argument stopped and Billy figured you were calming yourself down as you were wont do. He had proven himself to be useless when it came to offering comfort. You weren’t taking deep breaths though. You were not trying to find composure. You were hatching a plan. “We are going to your Christmas Party. I am going to look so damn good and I'm going to throw a broom at her!” You stomped one foot and rushed away to the kitchen to help yourself to some of Billy’s vodka, leaving him to lay on the bed and wishing he could go back five minutes and change this moment.

[yougaythen]

Lester's come to stay (phanfic)

A/N: I wrote this in like two hours so sorry if it’s not amazing. 
 Summary: Phil’ parents come to stay and things are said…
 Genre: fluff, 
 Word count: 1230
 Warnings: slight food mention, anxiety mention ————

Whenever Phil’s parents were coming to stay over dan went crazy about tidying the entire house, making sure that they always had enough supplies and making the spare room spotless. Dan would always put on the fanciest bed spread and make them up a little care tray of everything the could possibly need during their trip.

When they arrived it was a whole other story, Dan asked Phil’s mum to text when they were about 10 minutes away from the duplex a few days ago so the he could welcome them in and put the kettle on for hot drinks. He also wanted to bring up their luggage and anything else he could help with.

As soon as they were through the front door keys were taken and shoes left by the door as Phil showed them round the place, “Through here is the kitchen should you need anything from there, along here is lounge number one, the one that we will be sitting in, next to that is your room which Dan will put your bags and stuff in, just outside is the bathroom which is yours for the week as me and Dan will use the en-suite in our room which is upstairs along with the other lounge area.” “Dan and I have promised to be quiet and that happening around 11pm because we are generally noisy but that can stop for the week, at this time we will head to bed and just talk and stuff up there as apposed to down in the lounge” Phil said.

The day couldn’t have gone better, Dan dragged the Lester’s belongings from their car into the apartment just as the rain started, despite it being the middle of summer it got cold in their apartment when it rained resulting in the blankets coming from the cupboard by the fire and hot chocolates shared around, Phil as always offered his mum and dad some cake then semi led down on the sofa and holding his arms open for dan, this was nothing new to the Lester’s more of the normal to them, very time either they visited or both went to the Isle of Man there would always be cuddles shared. Phil knew from the way that he was acting that he was tired and could do with a nap, “I’m so sorry but can I just take Dan up to bed?” He questioned his parents without wanting and answer “He’s very sleepy, and from what I can tell he hasn’t been sleeping great over the past couple of nights so I’m just going to take him up to bed and wait with him while he doses off, mainly for comfort because he finds it hard to go to sleep without me” Phil started to get up after dan and grabbed hold of his hand and started walking up the stairs.

Once Dan was fully asleep Phil left him and closed the door to, making sure that there were some paracetamol and a fresh glass of water on the side before returning to his parents who were flicking through the tv looking for something to watch. “Phil-” his mum started, “is he only like this because we are here, he always seems so happy and he’s seemed really tired today-” Phil’s mum questioned. “Mum I genuinely think he’s too caught up with work again, there are some big things happening at the moment and he’s pretending to be strong and going along to all the meetings even when he doesn’t have to and he’s not sleeping until 4am and he’s getting back up at 9am like that really isn’t long enough for him to have a good quality sleep. I’ve tried talking to him about how it’s not good for him to be this tired and maybe we ask if we could set a project back until we are a bit more quieter but he insists that he’s fine. The move struck him I think, I think he found it tough to leave the place that he grew happier in” this was the first time Phil had spoken how he felt in ages and although he felt bad he knew it was good because his mum was someone he could trust. “I’m going to maybe talk to him in a bit once his is awake and had something to eat and ask if there’s anything bothering him or anything, he might just want a mother figure to speak to. Would that be okay with you darling?” She asked, “yeah it would really help”

Once Dan was awake and had some dinner he headed up to the lounge by their room where Phil’s mum came up only minutes later, “Dan, sweetie I really want to talk to you about something, it’s nothing bad, but both me and Phil’s dad have realised that today you are acting different, it’s nothing new for you to sometimes nap on Phil and we all know that but how you slept for so long earlier isn’t really the normal, Phil has said that you haven’t been sleeping as much during the night for only really four to five hours, you should ideally be getting eight hours, Phil’s also kinda worried about it. Please let me know Dan, we can do anything, I’m sure the business people can set deadlines back a few months and I can ask Phil to talk to your manager and ask if she has any advice. Your mental wellbeing is far more important than anything else and I think you know that, I was talking to Phil earlier and he mentioned something about you getting anxious and crying a lot more recently, wanting to be held tightly more often and although you might not realise this is all because of over working your mind. You and-” Phil’s mum stopped, as soon as she realised Dan had tears streaming his cheeks, this wasn’t what she wanted, from here she gestured for him to come closer and to sit directly next to her so that she could hold him tightly “sorry if this is loud I’m going to call for Phil ‘Phil can you come here’” she somewhat shouted.

A few moments later dan was in his lap, head on his shoulder and Phil peppering kisses to his cheeks, and Dan wasn’t going anywhere, “I’m so sorry-” mrs Lester started before being cut off, “it’s okay honestly.. I was only crying because.. what you are saying is true” Dan broke of before Phil invited his mum into a cuddle with them. 
It might not completely have been how any of the family wanted the day to go but what mattered in the end was that the day was something, Dan started to realise that things were getting too much and Phil fell deeper and deeper for the chocolate haired boy that he held so tightly. The rest of the week went much smoother, family time was had during the day and for the first time in months Dan was sleeping in Phil’s arms for at least 8 hours a night.

These were the special moments that they all wished they could frame upon the wall but sometimes memories must stay in the mind, family was the most special thing to them and they were so grateful for these days the days that love mattered.

A/N- I would love to write a part 2 to this so let me know if you would like that. Anyway I hope you enjoy/enjoyed this

#charlie writes phanfic #i actually kinda like it #tw anxiety mention #tw food