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blairrwaldorfs · 3 months

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Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Part 4! Bare with me I will be uploading my past short stories at the same time too! By the way, if you all want to be tagged in my fics, please let me know!

Disclaimer: 18+

Wordcount: 5.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

“So, when are you going to tell me that you’re dating your flatmate?”

You choked on the waffle that you were shoving in your mouth as soon as Sara asked you that question.

Now, wait a minute, how the hell did she know about that?!

You gazed up at her with wide eyes and mouth full like your deepest, darkest secret had just come to light. You swallowed the food that was in your mouth and chugged on your water. It wasn’t like thinking about kissing Joe for the last few weeks wasn’t bad enough. Now, Sara knew about this?

Abby shook her head, chuckling. “Way to ease into the subject, babe.”

“I thought you don’t have social media? How do you know about that?” You asked, brows all furrowed.

“Abby has Instagram, and we saw the candid pictures.”

God, this was embarrassing.

A month and a half.

You were doing well keeping this embarrassing secret for a month and a half. You weren’t planning to tell Sara about this until you were ready but of course, the internet had to tell her first. You should have seen it coming. You were fake dating an actor after all, so why were you so surprised about it at the same time? It wasn’t like you didn’t see other people at the corner of the pubs that you two would go to and take pictures of you. Sara and Abby were bound to find out about it.

It wasn’t like you enjoyed it. There were so many moments that you wanted to tell Abby and Sara every time you had brunch with them for the past month and a half, but it was too embarrassing and stupid. Not that they would judge you for doing this ridiculous agreement. It was you who was embarrassed. It was you who felt like an idiot every weekend.

“C’mon…” You would take Joe’s hand and drag him in the dark corner of the pub. “Is she looking?”

Joe would look over his shoulder, discreet enough where Ivy wouldn’t notice and look back at you, nodding his head. You would take his hand and slowly slide it on your bum before sliding it on your hips. Joe would grip your hips and pull you close and kiss you. Kiss you like he hasn’t kissed anyone like it before, and it would make your stomach turn in a good way. You would kiss him not like the way Ivy would, and he would give you that look.

It had been weeks that you noticed that Joe would always give you that look after you kissed him. It was like Joe’s body freezes when you kiss him, and he gave you those doe eyed eyes of his. It bothered you to the core because not only you haven’t seen that look from any man you hooked up or dated before, but it made you feel good. It sent electricity down your body, and you hated it. You hated the fact that it made you feel like that. However, that wasn't going to force you to give in, so you continued to act like his kisses meant nothing every weekend.

Which it didn’t because this was all pretend, right?

Then, there was that one weekend where you both went bar hopping around the city because apparently, Ivy was doing the same thing with her friends. After following her on the third bar of the night, you sort of noticed how Joe looked defeated. Ivy didn’t acknowledge him at all. He looked like he was just done.

“So, where are we going next?” You asked him.

Joe’s eyes were laser focused on Ivy, and he didn’t even hear your question. You, on the other hand, were getting bored and tired from walking from bar to bar. You settled on your seat by the bar, and you ordered yourself a drink.

“I’ll be back.” Joe murmured and walked away from you before you could even say anything.

You looked over your shoulder and watched Joe talk to Ivy, and they made their way out of the pub. You sat there all night, while Joe spent his time with her. Then, he did the same thing again a weekend after that. You didn’t say anything nor questioned him because even if you didn’t see him for most of the night, you knew what he was doing. Ivy’s friends would side eye and chuckle at you as if you were the most idiotic woman in the room. As if you didn’t know that your “boyfriend” was outside by the dark alley sticking his tongue down Ivy’s throat.

Well, fuck them because they didn’t know shit.

You sat there and ignored them and minded your own business because this was all an act, right? They didn’t know that you weren’t actually with Joe and that you weren’t actually an idiot.

Well, maybe being an idiot was starting to be questionable.

They didn’t know the whole truth. You knew what was happening outside in that dark alley, and you just had to play your part, so all of this could be over soon.

But how come it still made you feel like shit?

At the end of the night, Joe would come back inside with Ivy and would ask you if you wanted to go home. You would just nod your head, give him a smile as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. Every time you would pass by Ivy, she would give you a look as if she knew something that you didn’t. As if she won. Unfortunately for her, you knew everything.

That went on for another weekend, however, Joe had stopped a weekend after that. Ivy had also stopped giving him attention again. You didn’t exactly know what happened between them but as another two weekends went by, you sort of noticed how Joe stopped paying attention to her. She would be there, but he never looked at her anymore. It was starting to feel strange because what was the point of it all if Joe didn’t even try anymore?

Then, last weekend came…

It became even more strange.

“What do you think?” Joe asked you that morning, holding up an expensive long silver silk dress.

You were comfortably laying on the sofa, watching TV in peace when Joe blocked your view and held that dress in front of you.

“That doesn’t look like Ivy’s style.”

“Good because it’s not for her.” Joe handed it to you. “It’s for you.”

“Oh.”

Joe smiled, handing you the dress and the silver strappy heels that came with it. You got up from your position and stared at the dress for a moment and saw the tag that said “Dior” on it.

“So, what is this for?” You asked.

“I have to go to a Dior event, and Ivy is part of the event too.” Joe explained.

That all made sense now.

You nodded your head and thanked Joe for the dress. It was the first one he bought for you after a month and a half of fake dating him. It was part of your agreement, but you sort of were still questioning the recent events lately. Why would he want—needed— you to come if he didn’t even make an effort with Ivy anymore? Was all of this over between them or were they just playing a game?

And that goddamn look.

He needed to stop that!

It was like every time he saw you, those chocolate button eyes would stare and not in a lustful way either. It was a different look that you couldn’t really explain. You had your hair done by a professional that night, making your long wavy brown hair fall nicely on your back, a nice silver pin on the side, giving you a slick fresh look. The silver silk dress hugged your curves nicely, and Joe stood there and stared at you the moment you walked into the event with him. The lights that flickered around the room made you sparkle even more, and it made Joe’s eyes sparkled towards you too.

However, your eyes were somewhere else. You were there for the agreement, not something else. You found Ivy across the room and immediately slid your fingers to intertwine with Joe’s. To your surprise, Joe slid his hand away and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and led you towards the bar to get some drinks.

For a while, you just stood there by the bar, drinking and scanning the room. Ivy was busy talking to different people, and Joe was doing the same thing. You were starting to feel a bit bored and lonely again. You didn’t know anyone in the room, and you sort of felt like you didn’t belong there. They were all in the same working industry, and you were just there.

“Sorry.” Joe apologized, coming back to you half an hour later. “Do you mind if I introduce you to some people?”

You shrugged, not really knowing the answer to his question. Was this part of the plan too? Was he really introducing you to all his industry friends as his “girlfriend?” Was this going to make Ivy jealous? You didn’t bother saying anything as he led you towards the middle of the room.

Throughout the night, Joe would take you around with him, introduce you to other people that were part of the event, introduce you to his industry friends and never left your side all night. Not once had he laid an eye on Ivy all night and suddenly, you didn’t know what your role was supposed to be anymore.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Joe whispered to you as soon as his friends left to get some drinks.

“Joe, you don’t have to pretend. Ivy isn’t even around us right now.” You murmured.

“I’m not pretending.”

You stared at him, blinking your eyes and feeling the blood rushed to your cheeks. You never had anyone genuinely tell you that, and it felt strange for Joe to say that to you since he was supposed to be focusing on someone else. You didn’t know what to say, and he was giving you that look again.

What the fuck was he doing?

Joe gave you a small warm smile before his friends interrupted the both of you again. The rest of the night was spent talking with his friends and professional photographers taking pictures of the two of you. Joe would introduce you to everyone as his “girlfriend” and somehow, you didn’t know whether to feel good about it or feel uncomfortable because throughout the night, there were times where you would forget that you were actually acting. Everything was starting to surface naturally.

Did Joe forget too?

Ivy left hours ago, and he still continued to pretend you were his girlfriend. You couldn’t argue because maybe it was part of it all, and you had one role and that was to just go with it and keep acting too.

You couldn’t lie to yourself because you did have fun that night, and you actually met some new people at the party that had great conversations with you. You couldn’t deny that.

But at the end of the night, you were ready to get your feet out of your heels because it was killing you slowly. By the time the two of you arrived back in your flat, you immediately sat on the sofa, unclasping the strap of the heels from your ankle and let out a sigh of relief. Your feet were all red, and you swore the skin at the back of your foot was peeling off.

Joe chuckled softly, grabbing the heels from you and knelt down in front of you. For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing, then Joe wrapped his big hand around your ankle, setting your foot on his lap and started massaging it.

“Joe.” You slid your foot away. “It’s dirty. No…”

Joe didn’t let you off this time. He set your foot back on his lap and said, “It’s fine. I’m the one who put you in those shoes, so let me do this. I at least owe you this.”

You were about to pull your foot away again, but Joe’s soft hands had started working, and you couldn’t help but enjoy it. It made you feel so relaxed. It made your feet feel so much better. How did he learn how to be such a good masseuse? Because ohmygod, it felt really good.

But then, you reminded yourself that this was crossing boundaries. Sure, you enjoyed tonight and Joe’s attention towards you but the act was over. You were back in your flat, and you didn’t have to pretend anymore. The thought of Joe touching and being sweet to you started making you cringe again.

You cleared your throat and pulled your foot away, getting up from the sofa.

“Thanks for tonight.” You said. “But I’m exhausted, so goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Joe nodded his head, disappointment lingering in his eyes.

That was it.

That was how the night ended, and you were fine with it. That night, you both had crossed boundaries way too many times, and you kept wondering as to why Joe was fine with it because he was the one who wanted to get Ivy back, remember? So where was she now? Why was she not falling for this? Why was Joe okay with all of this all of a sudden? Why was he not complaining like before?

“He’s falling for you.” Abby chuckled softly, snapping you back to reality.

Your eyes widened at your friends, “What?! No.”

No way!

No way Joe felt that way… right?

“Oh, yes he is. Tell her, babe.” Abby nudged Sara softly on her arm.

“Sara?”

You snapped your head at Sara, raising your brows and looking at her with wide eyes. Sara opened her mouth but no words slipped out. You could see it all over her face that she was trying to find the right words to answer you. When she finally did, it wasn’t an answer to your question.

“Are you sure you want to keep this up?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” You knitted your brows. “I sort of have to because he’s coming with me to my mum’s birthday dinner tonight.”

You watched as Abby and Sara exchanged hesitant looks, and your mind started questioning if it really was worth continuing this because your gut feeling was starting to tell you it was starting to be something else.

“We just don’t want you getting hurt.” Abby added.

“I won’t.” You said that with too much confidence. “This is all just an act, remember? It’s not real.”

You watched as Sara took a sip of her tea and didn’t say anything for a whole minute, but you knew that look she was giving you. You have known Sara long enough that it was the “are you sure this was a good idea?” look. Like she knew this wasn’t going to end well if you kept this up.

“Just… Just think about it.” Sara’s worried hazel eyes stared at you.

Your little conversation with Sara and Abby got you overthinking again as you walked back to your flat. You had to continue this act tonight and this time, it would be at your parents’ house. It was the first time they would be meeting Joe, and you were dreading it because you knew how they both act around other people. They had no shame to fight nor say something brutal.

“Are you alright?” Joe asked you as you both walked out of the flat that night.

“Yeah,” You paused and turned to Joe as he opened the passenger door for you. “Listen, I just want to apologize in advance whatever my mum and dad will say to you. They tend to be brutal and have no filter.”

“Hey,” Joe set a hand on your arm to comfort you, but it made you wince from his touch.

Even if Joe had touched you or kissed you many times, you still tend to be taken aback whenever the two of you weren’t pretending in front of everyone. You were still you. You still weren't affectionate nor liked it when someone touched you.

“Sorry.” Joe slid his hand away.

He was also starting to get used to that part of you.

“But don’t worry, okay?” Joe gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m going to make sure that your mum will stop annoying you about this.”

“Thanks.” You gave him a small smile before sliding yourself inside the car.

On the way to your parents’ house, the car filled with comfortable silence but inside your mind, you were dreading to visit your parents. You promised yourself you wouldn’t come back until the big holidays, but your mum insisted on you coming back home for her birthday. You technically haven’t told them that you have a “boyfriend.” All you said on the phone was that you were bringing someone, so she wouldn’t be too surprised and scold you for not giving her a heads up that she needed to prepare an extra plate.

You could literally feel your shoulders getting tensed again as Joe pulled up to the driveway. It started to drizzle the moment you stepped out of Joe’s car as you played with your fingers nervously. You and Joe walked up to the front door, and your mum must have heard the car pull up because she immediately swung the door open before you could even knock.

“Oh!” A big smile plastered on her face, her eyes only at Joe. “You didn’t tell me your guest was so handsome.”

“Mum, this is Joe.” You introduced them together, a frown slowly creeping up on your face.

“Happy Birthday.” Joe greeted her, handing her a gift bag.

Where did that gift bag came from?

You were too occupied inside your mind that you didn’t even realize Joe had been holding it this whole time. You furrowed your brows at him, not expecting him to bring a gift to your mum but at the same time, you sort of felt touched. You couldn’t help but think about how Joe actually took time to pick out something for your mum. Someone he never even met before. He didn’t even have to do all of this since you both were just pretending, but he did. You saw how Joe was a gentleman towards her, and you could already tell your mum loved him.

If only she knew the truth.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the herd to arrive behind your mum as you introduced your dad and brother to Joe. Entering your house, your dad and brother immediately dragged Joe in the living room as your mum asked you to help her out in the kitchen.

“Happy Birthday, mum.” You gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her your gift.

“Thanks, darling.” She smiled. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I told you to save your money.”

“It’s nothing. It’s just something small.” You shrugged.

You watched as your mum’s eyes shifted towards Joe in the living room and then back at you. “Is that… Joe? Your flatmate?”

You nodded your head, ready for her to start listing all the things that were wrong about dating your flatmate even if she had suggested it to you in the first place.

“I’m glad you finally listened.” She looked down at the salad she was making, pouring the dressing on it. “It seems like he’s handsome and has a good career.”

“He’s an actor.” You answered.

“Oh?” Your mum looked up to you, her brow raised and her eyes widened. “Anything I have seen him in?”

You shrugged. “Probably not.”

The both of you were interrupted by the laughter that erupted from the living room. You saw how the three men enjoyed their conversation together as they watched sports on the television. You noticed how Joe was trying his best to impress your dad and brother. You wonder if all of this was still an act because the more you watched them, the more you could see the real Joe surfacing in all of their conversations. It was the Joe you knew before this whole thing happened. The Joe you would spend Saturday nights with, watching movies and eating pizza.

When the five of you sat down for dinner later that night, you quietly sat and ate your food as they all talked about sports, and your brother asking Joe about interesting things that happens on set whenever he films. Every single question that your family asked him, they seemed to be impressed by every answer that Joe would give.

Maybe Joe was right.

He really was going to put on a hell of a show for them.

Although, as minutes passed, you started to feel guilty for lying in front of your family. Were you that desperate for them to feel proud of you that you had this whole thing set up? That you actually brought a fake boyfriend for them to meet, so they could leave you alone for once? It made you feel sick to your stomach, and you just wanted the dinner to be over. You just wanted the whole night to be over.

“You know you are the first man that she brought home.” Your mum mentioned to Joe, making you glare at her.

“Mum.” You uttered.

“I’ve always told her to stop being so stiff and go out there and find someone.” Your mum continued. “All she cares about is her career.”

Joe watched as you slowly slid down your seat. A small smile tugged on his face as he set a hand over yours under the table.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Joe replied. “I think it’s amazing that she could go out there every day and be in front of hazardous chemicals for experiments, so that the world could have a cure for certain diseases.”

Your eyes slowly shifted at Joe as he continued to compliment you, his hand squeezing yours gently. This time, you didn’t cringe nor wince over his touch. He was genuine at every word that he was saying. Every compliment he would say, it made your brother smile at you, and it made your mum finally shut her mouth.

“I think she could do both, especially since she’s almost 30.” Your mum finally found another excuse after a few minutes.

You bit your lower lip and ate your salad and didn’t bother talking for the rest of the night. Joe could see how tense you were and even holding your hand, he could feel your freezing cold hands shaking. As your dad and brother continued to make conversations with Joe in the living room after dinner, you made your way upstairs to your room to get some peace and quiet for a moment.

Looking out the window, the rain started pouring hard outside as you watched the raindrops slide down the glass window. You looked around your room and thought about all the memories you had in here as a child and a teenager. Most of them were bad and some were good too. Your fingers brushed the wooden white vanity that sat in the corner of your room. Picture frames of your childhood friends that you haven’t seen in a long time since they were all out of the country now. Then, your eyes caught on the snowglobe that was sitting on top of your bookshelf. You stood on your tiptoes, grabbing it from the top shelf and smiled as you stared at it, wiping off the dust that collected over it.

You remembered you would hide in your bedroom most of the time to avoid hearing the argument that your parents would have downstairs. You would put on your headphones, lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling. It almost became like a safe place for you to hide out from everyone in the world. You let out a sigh as you sat at the edge of your bed and looked out the window and thought about how your life would be if you weren’t so terrified at everything. If you weren’t so anxious about coming home all the time. You wondered how your childhood and teenage years would have been if your parents didn’t fight all the time.

“Knock. Knock.”

Your thoughts were interrupted as Joe stood by the doorway, knocking on the open door.

“May I come in?” He asked.

This wasn’t your own personal space anymore. This was your personal space when you were a teenager, but she was a totally different person from who you were now. This was just a room full of memories and untouched things that were collecting dust over the years.

“Sure.” You murmured.

Joe sat next to you and looked down at the snowglobe that you were holding.

“Something special?” He asked, nodding his head in the direction of the snowglobe.

“Yeah,” You smiled slightly. “It was my favorite.”

You held up the snowglobe with a small blue penguin standing outside a cabin and when you shook it, snow filled the globe, and it sparkled.

“I always thought how lucky the penguin was because it looked so peaceful in there.” You added.

“Yeah,” Joe shrugged. “But it could be lonely too.”

Joe watched you shake the snowglobe again and part of him knew that you were comparing yourself with the penguin. How you wished you had a peaceful home life. He saw how much your mum judged you tonight and that was just during dinner. He couldn't imagine having to deal with that your whole life.

Your sudden winces from his touch, and your rules for boundaries made all sense in his head now. Everything about this house made you who you were today, and he wished he could help you heal from it, but Joe knew that you liked your distance. You liked keeping an arm’s length when it came to certain people in your life.

He couldn’t blame you. He has seen all the reasons why tonight.

“I swear to God! You cannot do anything right around here!” Your mum yelled from downstairs. “What a great fucking birthday, innit?!”

You and Joe immediately shifted your attention towards the doorway. Your mum’s voice echoed from down the hall as your dad’s deep voice rattled the whole house.

“You know what, if you could handle it yourself, then fine! Don’t ask me for help next time!”

“That’s actually fucking great! You’re fucking useless most of the time anyway!” Your mum barked.

You couldn’t believe that they were actually fighting right now as if they didn’t have a guest inside their own home. They literally have no shame or respect at all. You got up from your bed and quickly closed the door, hanging your head low from embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry–”

You gasped softly the moment you turned around and saw Joe standing in front of you. You didn’t even finish your sentence as he looked at you with apologetic eyes and immediately pulled you in his arms. You didn’t know what to do. You stood there frozen as Joe held you and comforted you. Your body was tense due to all the anxiety that was washing over you right now.

You never had anyone do something like this to you before. Not even your parents. If you weren’t so preoccupied by the fact that you felt so embarrassed, anxious, and stressed about your parents, you would have pushed Joe away from you.

No one got to hold you like this.

No one should hold you like this.

This was not right, especially that it was Joe. But somehow, his arms slowly made your body relax, and your arms gently wrapped around his torso as you buried your face in his chest.

“It’s okay.” Joe cooed, his voice all soft. “Just let it out.”

You kept telling yourself that you were being over dramatic as tears silently rolled down your cheeks. Both of you were silent. The only thing that you could hear was the pitter patter of the rain on the glass window as you quietly cried on his chest. Joe softly rubbed your back until you had let out every single frustration and anger. He was patient. He waited until you were okay and was ready to let go from his embrace.

Joe planted a soft kiss in your hair and that made you sob even more.

God, you were so pathetic.

You couldn’t even hold yourself together in front of him. The moment you finally let go of his arms, Joe looked down at you, dipping in his chin to find your eyes that were now bloodshot red. Your lips were trembling as you sniffled and used the end of your jumper sleeve to wipe your nose.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His soft voice murmured, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

“No,” Joe shook his head, cupping your face with his hands. “Don’t you dare apologize for letting out your emotions.”

You nodded your head and let out a deep breath, giving him a small thank you smile. After a few minutes of gatheringg yourself together, the both of you decided to start making your way back to London. You needed to get away from there.

You had enough of everyone.

“Hey,” Joe gently held your hand that night when you both arrived in your flat.

He stopped you halfway towards your bedroom and immediately slid his hand away from yours, knowing exactly how much you hated it when someone touched you.

But tonight was an exception, right?

You didn’t think you actually needed someone to hold you like that until Joe did without you asking for it. It still surprised you, but it made you feel safe and understood.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe asked.

You nodded your head, a small reassuring smile tugging on your lips. “I’m fine. Thank you for tonight. It seems like our plan worked.”

Joe didn’t care about the plan though. He only cared about you.

He only cared if you were okay.

“Of course.” Joe smiled. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And just like that, Joe watched you walk inside your room and closed the door behind you. The same way how most of his nights end lately. His mind wondered if tonight something has shifted between the two of you.

Taglist:

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#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn rpf #Joe Quinn rpf #Joseph Quinn Fanfics #Joe Quinn fanfics #Is It Over Now?#blairrwaldorfs

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viilpstick · 6 months

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭: Imagine having to pretend to date your ex you got into prison? That is what Fellow Honest is experiencing. Without warning a lovely lady he known for a long time knocks in his door asking for help, it couldn’t be that of a problem, right?

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Fellow Honest, Giddel, Lacy Darling, Twisted Wonderland oc

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Oc x canon

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Hurt or angst (?) Hopeful ending

𝒂/𝒏: This will be getting at least 5/6 parts tbh + I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT GENRE THIS IS

Part 1. | Part 2.

"So?" Fellow asks Lacy, who sits down with a two towels wrapped around her, this was sure an unexpected move. The thought of him doing what Lacy has done to get to him, was surely not an imaginable thought, for her and him, it would easily be the other way around. "Hold the thought a second, how you got in here?"

"I have my ways." Lacy answered awhile Giddel showed up holding two cigars, one given to Fellow the other to Lacy, who shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, dear. But, I don't smoke."

The little beastman nods, noticing Fellow not lighting up the cigar and even putting it away.

"You must really need my help, don't you?"

It was a quick sigh, but deep enough for they hear it coming in and out of her. "Sadly, yes."

The comment made Fellow turn his head away from her, maybe, this time it wasn't the best thing to remember the past.

With a take breath, he awaits for her to speak, wondering what made her choose such drastic way.

Does she need money? He would give her gold bars. Does she needs a shoulder to cry? He is already grabbing tissues and her favorite movie. Does she-

"I need you to pretend we are faking dating."

He is ready for the kiss.

"I beg your pardon?" Surely, it wasn’t NEAR what he expected. Not just doesn’t make sense, nor makes sense her choosing him.

So many other people would have a clear background with, instead of him.

"I won’t repeat myself." Lacy straightness her posture, right before after sighing once again, as Fellow raised an eyebrow. "My boss has been pressuring me to show up with a date for the upcoming social event. And for that, I need to show up dating someone, it is a really bad reason, and I understand you not accepting, but my job is on the line."

"Why me-?" He clears his throat. "Why is so important you be dating someone?"

"According to him, I must look professional as possible. And without a partner will look like I am slacking and not worrying about my social life."

"What is this? Queen of hearts’ hierarchy?" Fellow sighs a hand covering his face as if making sure this wasn’t a dream. "Why not Crewel, or Crowley? Any of your actual friends?"

"All busy in NRC."

Laying back in his chair Fellow had no idea of how he supposed to agree or disagree with this ridiculous idea. It was certainly the toughest choice of his year, he could say yes and on the way, try to gain her trust, on a hope for a second chance or he could say no, and expect himself to move on.

"Sure." But we both know that isn’t the situation. Fellow’s voice rings her and him back to reality. "We can pretend to fake date." Lacy automatically seemed more relived by his words. "Yet, you have to fake pretend in my job as well, you know to attract costumers."

His smirks is now placed on his face, of course this was a lie. But, this time a good one, or so he hopes.

"Deal!"

Poor Lacy, still ingenue. Yet, he promises that this time he won’t use it for the bad choices of his own life.

"Now, tell me more when this event will be and what will be."

And, so, let it all start. The chaotic situation where forced by an stupid job idea, Fellow and Lacy will have to hangout again for the very first time in years. Will it stay for the ideals of Lacy? Or will the vexer fox get the second chance he hoped for?

Too many questions, but that stays in the future, that holds down a tight rope.

#💜 ! felcy #💜 ! fellow honest #💜 ! lacy darling #💜 ! barbs' writes #💜 ! twisted wonderland

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

hi arrow! can i get a fic of ian being jealous on a date (maybe someone flirts with mickey??) and mickey just loves it bc it makes ian all passive aggressive and bossy and saying 'my husband' 283949 times ❤️

Of course you can! Or at least I tried lol, it got a little random.💖

That Green-Eyed Monster (is my husband)

They never had really gotten in the habit of going on dates, before. Not real dates at least, in public places where you could eat with utensils or sit side-by-side and pretend to watch the entertainment while you were really just watching each other. They had tried, but something always got in the way--the military, jail sentences, arrest warrants, pandemics, family emergencies--they just had shit luck, alright?

So when things got a little less crazy on the aforementioned fronts, they started trying a little bit harder. They had a designated date night, now. Sometimes they planned together, sometimes they took turns surprising each other with heartfelt (or sometimes comical) plans.

This time, it had been Mickey's turn.

“Where are we going?” Ian asked yet again from where he was blindfolded in the passenger seat of Tami’s car. They’d usually take the ambulance, but Mickey didn’t want to stick out too much today—not in a place where an ambulance could potentially be needed.

“I still ain’t gonna tell you,” Mickey answered, but relented enough to add, “we’re almost there though, you’ll see soon.”

Sure enough, the entrance to the parking lot came up on the right, and Mickey swung in in that ridiculous little car.

As soon as Ian felt the car stop, he was reaching for his blindfold—not one of their good ones, just an old headband they had found on Debbie’s floor—but Mickey grabbed his hand before he could slip it off.

“Hey hey hey,” Mickey chastised. “What’s the rush there, flash?”

“What, I can’t be a little eager for our date?” Ian pouted, knowing it would get Mickey to give in. No matter how many times he tried to pretend that he wasn’t soft, Mickey always gave in to the pout.

He was right. Gentle hands pushed the headband off of Ian’s eyes, which were immediately filled with the sight of Mickey’s own as the other man ran fingers through Ian’s hair in an attempt to smooth it down.

“Alright, come on then,” Mickey ordered, leaving one firm kiss at the corner of Ian’s lips before pulling back and getting out of the car. “If you’re so eager, you get to pay.”

Ian chuckled as he let himself out and met Mickey around the front of the car. “Why would I pay?” he asked jokingly. “It’s your week to woo me, asshole, you get to foot the bill.”

“Foot the bill with your money, sure,” Mickey retorted, and Ian rolled his eyes as he automatically fell into step beside him.

“Our money,” he reminded his husband, getting an arm around his waist. He was always surprised when Mickey let him do that—he said it felt awkward to walk with the jolly red giant suckered onto his side—but this time Mickey actually leaned into him.

He didn’t even notice where they were, outside a little building in the middle of nowhere. He let go of Mickey to walk through the door ahead of him, fully intending to continue their playful banter, when he stopped still.

There were a lot of guns in this place.

Paintball guns, that was.

“Mickey,” Ian said slowly as his husband came up behind him, “did you bring me here to shoot me?”

Mickey just smirked as he swanned past toward the check-in desk.

“Maybe, hotshot,” he answered. “You gonna complain?”

Ian shook his head with a shit-eating grin.

“Hell no,” he declared. “You better be ready for me.”

Mickey signed his name on a waiver with a flourish and took the gun handed to him by a worker, tossing it to Ian.

“Am I ever not?”

—

Ian was having a blast, pun intended, as he shot the shit out of everybody else on the range. Mickey wasn’t faring too badly either; despite being on the opposite team, neither one of them had managed to shoot each other yet.

It didn’t hurt that Mickey looked damn good, either. He was completely in his element out here, taking guys out left and right with perfect marksmanship and even more perfect form, his shoulders barely moving with the recoil as he shot. Half the time, Ian missed his chance because he was too busy watching him to fire—the other half, he didn’t even want to if it meant taking Mickey out of the game and losing his eye-candy.

Finally, a break was called, and everyone filed off the course while it was reset for the next round.

Ian grabbed a bottle of water from a long table near the building, guzzling half of it in one go before looking around for his husband.

He found him quickly enough, recognizing his back immediately even in unfamiliar gear with his hair all mussed from the protective helmet they had to wear.

But he did not recognize the man standing next to Mickey, raking his eyes over Mickey’s stocky build.

The stranger was saying something, Mickey tossing his head back in laughter, and then a hand was on Mickey’s arm and Ian suddenly found himself at Mickey’s back.

“Everything good here, fellas?” Ian asked casually, standing a couple feet away.

“Fine, Gallagher,” Mickey said with a smile. “Johnny here was just tellin’ me he could give me some pointers before the next round.”

Ian raised his eyebrows, glancing from Mickey’s face to the stranger’s and back.

“Pointers?” he asked, voice going a touch high at the end. Who the fuck did this guy think he was, offering shooting pointers to Mickey fucking Milkovich? He had gotten there just in time, it seemed, because there was no way in hell Mickey would let that insult slide.

“Yeah,” Mickey said. “Says I need to work on my form a little, widen my stance, you know. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Wait. What?

“I was just telling him,” the stranger—Johnny, though how they were on a first name basis already Ian had no idea—chimed in, “that I have a lot of experience with real firearms.”

“And I was sayin’ how much I admire a military man,” Mickey interjected with a smirk, “so I might as well let him show me some moves.”

“Mickey,” Ian hissed lowly, “what are you doing?”

Mickey didn’t answer.

“You ever shot a real gun, Mick?” Johnny asked abruptly, catching on that he was missing something but determined not to lose Mickey’s attention.

“It’s like nothing else, dude, I swear. The feel of that smooth metal in your hands,” he continued as he moved closer, lifting a hand to Mickey’s arm again. “The way it moves with you, goes off when you,” he leaned in even closer, and added in a low voice, “pull the trigger.”

Alarm bells were ringing in Ian’s head at this point.

“Nah,” Mickey was answering, “my guy won’t let me play with the real stuff.”

“Sounds like you need a new guy, then,” Johnny murmured, and Ian had had enough.

“He’s taken,” he cut in gruffly, moving to stand by Mickey’s side. He couldn’t hold Mickey with the gear in the way, but he got a hand on his back, at least, curling fingers into the top of his waistband.

Johnny looked at him askance, and shrugged.

“I don’t see a ring,” he pointed out, and Ian grit his teeth. They had taken them off before starting, for safety, and he never regretting following the rules more a day in his life.

“Besides, who are you to speak for him?” Johnny asked.

“Oh, this is Ian,” Mickey introduced quickly. He was smiling, the asshole, like some guy wasn’t trying to steal him from right under Ian’s own nose. “He’s my—”

“His husband,” Ian stated firmly, and watched Johnny’s eyes go wide. “His ex-army, ex-con husband.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry,” Johnny apologized, hands up. “I didn’t know.”

Ian nodded, ready to let it go despite his urge to send the man packing, when Johnny insisted on talking again.

“You can’t blame me though, right?” he said with a little, nervous laugh. “I mean, he looks so damn—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, too busy keeling over with his hands on his groin after Ian shot a paintball right at his balls at point-blank range.

—

Two minutes later, Ian and Mickey were racing to the car as employees chased behind them, yelling. Apparently it was frowned upon to shoot someone on your own team, outside the course itself, during a break. It didn’t help that Mickey had done the same right after, just for fun.

“Hurry up, you jealous fuck,” Mickey shouted at Ian as he fumbled with the door handle. “We gotta get outa here before they realize I gave them fake names!”

Ian fell into the car, giddy with adrenaline and laughter.

“The fuck did you do that for?” he giggled as Mickey threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the lot.

“Cause I knew you would do something stupid!” Mickey said, shoving at Ian’s shoulder with one hand when Ian just laughed harder.

Ian gather himself as they drove, and felt his heart-rate start to normalize after a few minutes on the road. He held Mickey’s hand over the gearshift, finger rubbing over the spot where his ring should be—where it would be again as soon as they had a minute to breathe. Then, just as he was almost calm—

“Shit, Ian,” Mickey gasped. “We didn’t return the fucking guns.”

That set them off again, and they had to pull over halfway home until they could stop laughing and hide the paintball guns under the back seat.

Franny and Fred would love them come Christmas.

#daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #omc #jealous Ian #little shit Mickey #date night

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zemosreader · 3 years

Text

make believe ⎛ oneshot ⎠

MAIN PAIRING: Zemo x reader.

summary: in a fit of madness, you ask Zemo to be your date to Tony's wedding.

warnings: fake!dating, mentions of past Tony Stark x reader (implied).

word count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

You bounced on the balls of your feet as you went over the argument in your head once more. It was probably the fifth or sixth time you had done so, just this morning, but the invitation to Tony’s wedding was burning a hole in your countertop in your flat and you had to have a response for the RSVP by the end of the week. Better to get this over with now, and then you could move on to someone who might actually say yes to being your date to your ex’s wedding.

It was stupid, it’s not like you had to ask him, but once the thought had occurred to you… you couldn’t get it out of your head. Now it felt imperative. You had to know what he would say. Shaking your head, you laughed softly to yourself, you already knew what he was going to say. It was a fool’s errand to ask him, but here you were, hovering outside of his office, early on a Wednesday morning.

His secretary was giving you the side-eye, but you were here so often, that she didn’t make you leave. That, at least, was a relief. You weren't sure you could stand the embarrassment of being escorted out of his office before you had inappropriately propositioned him. At least if it happened afterward, it would possibly be justified.

“Good morning, Baron Zemo,” his secretary chirped as the whoosh of the lift doors sounded from behind you. You turned and tried to smile at him, but you were sure it came out as a grimace. Especially when he sighed heavily at seeing you.

He nodded at his secretary, but only had eyes for you. “What can I do for you so early this morning?” He didn’t sound pleased to see you at all, and your anxiety ratcheted up.

“Can we speak in your office?” you asked, giving him a tight-lipped smile. His eyes narrowed as he swept them over you so quickly you weren't even sure it had happened. He held out his hand, indicating you should proceed before him into the office and you did so. You weren't sure, but it felt like his eyes may have strayed to your arse. You hoped so. You were wearing your tightest dress today in hopes that it would give you the confidence boost you needed. Or, maybe persuade him. Either way, it wouldn’t hurt, you had decided that morning as you put it on.

The door shut with a soft click and he passed by you so closely, you could feel the breeze of his body. He settled into his seat behind his desk, propping his arm up against the solid, oak desk and indicating you should sit in one of the visitor’s chairs.

You did so, but sat right at the very edge, ready to spring to your feet the moment he said no.

“Well?”

“I… um…” you swallowed hard and looked down at your hands, trying to remember the speech you had prepared.

“Spit it out, dear. I haven’t all day,” Helmut Zemo said sharply.

“WillyougowithmetoTony’swedding,” you said so quickly to your hands wringing in your lap.

“Pardon?”

You took a deep breath and looked up at a spot just over his left shoulder. “I need a date for Tony’s wedding. And it’s stupid and you’ll say no, but will you just pretend to be my date?”

Your entire body braced for his rejection, you were poised to stand, but no rejection came. Instead, he asked when the wedding was.

As if on autopilot, you gave him the relevant details.

Zemo hummed thoughtfully, his eyes sweeping over you again. “I’m not sure I know how to pretend to be someone’s date,” he said finally.

That statement startled you enough to actually look at him. You could detect amusement in his eyes, but also interest. You opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out and you closed it again.

“However, if you would like me to actually be your date, I think I could fit it into my schedule,” he added magnanimously. One corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Are you joking?” you asked, completely unable to tell.

Zemo frowned. “No,” he said slowly, “are you? Is there really no wedding?”

You shook your head. “Yes, of course, there’s a wedding… but why would you agree to go with me?”

His face became carefully blank. “Why would you ask me?”

“Because I thought you would say no,” you said in a rush. “I never thought you would agree. I…”

He leaned further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning deeply at you. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“I…” you shook your head, trying to come up with an answer. “Sorry, no it’s not a prank. I got the idea in my head to ask you and then I couldn’t not ask you, but I was convinced you would say no. Why did you agree?” you peered up at his blank face, searching for an answer.

“I’m free on that date,” he replied with a shrug. “It seemed as if you wanted some sort of moral support for your friend’s wedding. Besides, it would upset The Winter Soldier.”

You frowned. You hadn’t thought about how it would make Bucky and Sam feel if you showed up with Zemo. “I— thank you for agreeing, but you’re right, it would anger Bucky. I don’t want to do that. I’m afraid—”

“Ah, you can’t take it back now, my dear,” Helmut said with a smirk. “You’ve asked, and I’ve agreed. It appears I will be your date for Tony Stark’s wedding. Who is he marrying again?”

“Pepper Potts,” you replied, wrinkling your nose. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from doing it, even though you tried. It was ridiculous, feeling upset that Tony was marrying Pepper, but there it was. And that was the crux of the reason you had decided to ask Zemo.

“The CEO of his company?” Zemo asked with a slight pucker between his brows.

You nodded. “Yes, the very same. But you’re right abou—”

“Well then, I shall have to accompany you,” Helmut said as if the matter was completely settled.

“What? No, you—”

“Are you really going to rescind my invitation? How rude,” Helmut said, lifting his nose into the air and glaring down at you.

You bit your lip. He was right. It would be the height of rudeness to ask him and then uninvite him, but he was also right that it would rile up Bucky. And Tony, your brain helpfully supplied. That was the crux of it. You wanted to rile Tony up. You hoped he choked when he saw who you were with.

“Fine,” you said ungraciously. “The wedding is at two in the afternoon and my invitation allows a plus one. Shall we meet at my apartment?”

He nodded and waved his fingers in dismissal as he began sorting through the correspondence on his massive desk. You frowned at him while standing stiffly and marching from the room. You weren't sure why you asked him beyond knowing that it would annoy Tony. You firmly refused to think about how good he looked last month in that coat of his. Nope, that was definitely not why you asked him.

––––

Six Weeks Later

You couldn’t quite believe that you were actually going through with this. You had barely seen Zemo since you stormed into his office and asked him to be your date all those weeks ago. You had almost hoped he had forgotten all about it, but just yesterday he had sent you a text confirming the time he was to meet you at your flat. Now you were all dressed up and rocking in your heels as you tried to calm your anxiety.

How in the world were you going to explain this to anyone?

How had that thought just occurred to you? Horror filled you as you realized you were going to have to explain this to Bucky and Tony and the rest of the Avengers at some point. What on earth were you going to say? That you and Zemo were dating? Bile rose up just as a knock sounded on your door. You hurried to answer it, your fear and apprehension heavy on your face.

He looked amazing, just as you expected him to and you waved him inside your apartment. It seemed even smaller when he was standing in your living room. You turned away from him and took a few deep breaths. What on earth had you been thinking? Inviting Helmut Zemo to your ex’s wedding had to be the most self-destructive thing you could have done.

“Are you alright?” Zemo asked. You could feel him behind you, your living room suddenly feeling smaller as the tension between the two of you grew.

“I fear I’ve made a mistake,” you said in a small voice. You took a big breath and turned to face him. “I can hardly show up with you on my arm,” you said, refusing to meet his eye. “How on earth would I ever explain it?”

“Explain what?” Zemo asked, taking a step closer to you.

You felt your cheeks warm, he was really going to make you say it, wasn’t he?

“Explain you,” you said. “Explain to my friends and family how I ended up on the arm of Helmut Zemo. The Baron Helmut Zemo. The one who hated the Avengers so much he did everything to destroy them.”

“Perhaps,” Zemo said slowly, “it was less about destroying the Avengers and more about getting even.”

You gaped up at him and half-laughed when you saw the smirk on his face. You couldn’t believe he had just made a joke at his own expense.

“There’s nothing to explain. Two consenting adults are dating. What’s to explain?” He shrugged so nonchalantly, you almost believed him.

“Dating? Now we’re dating?” you asked, your eyes widening. You shook your head. “I’m not sure I can pull off fake dating now too.”

You looked down at your hands, realizing you were wringing them, as you always did when you fretted like this.

Zemo cleared his throat and you forced your gaze back up to his. He had a very calculating look on his face. “Of course you can. You wouldn’t have suggested I ‘pretend’ to be your date if you didn’t think you could pull it off. We can tell them it was a whirlwind over the last few weeks.”

“That was madness,” you shook your head, “asking you like that.”

“So why did you?” he peered down at you and your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. You knew exactly why you had asked him. Your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip and you pulled it into your mouth, biting down on it gently.

“Why does anyone ask one out?” you whispered, your gaze darting from his, unable to watch whatever emotions would flit across his face at that admission.

“Indeed,” he replied, sounding amused. “Shall we?”

Within half an hour you were across the town, Zemo slid an arm around your waist, holding you close as the two of you entered the wedding hall.

“Steady, there,” Zemo whispered into your hair just as you entered and a group of wedding attendees turned to see who had just arrived. Even from this distance, you could see eyes widening and tongues wagging.

You lifted your chin and Helmut left his palm on the small of your back as you took that first, scary step forward and greeted the guests.

The wedding was mostly fine. You received some looks from the rest of the Avengers but decided that ignoring them was your best bet. It wasn’t the ceremony you were worried about anyway. Nobody was going to track you down and corner you, expressing concern about your choices while Tony and Pepper were saying their ‘I do’s.’

You weren't ambushed until almost an hour after dinner, which you thought showed remarkable restraint on the part of your friends. You weren't even all that surprised by who did the ambushing. Zemo had stepped outside for a minute and promised to return with drinks and you found not just Bucky, but Sharon as well. Oh, well, they must be concerned if Sharon was getting involved.

“So glad you could come,” Sharon said, pulling you into a hug. You may not have ended up both working for Shield, but Sharon always felt like your sister. Bucky reached in to give you a side hug as well.

They dispensed with the pleasantries quickly. “So, Zemo?” Sharon asked, her eyebrows rising high on her head. “He’s a bit old for you, isn’t he?”

You bit your lips to keep from laughing. “Would that be your only objection to him?”

“Ah, well, not that it’s our place,” Sharon stuttered.

“We just want to make sure you’re taken care of,” Bucky said emphatically. You were wringing your hands, almost unconsciously, and gave both of them a tight smile.

“Of course, he has been wonderful,” you replied. Your brain was working overtime trying to figure a way out of this conversation.

A moment later, Zemo slid his hands between your, threading your fingers together and the tightness in your chest eased as your palms pressed together.

“James, Ms.Carter,” he rumbled, with a dip of his head in their direction.

“Zemo,” Bucky replied looking as though he were trying not to sneer, you thought it just looked like he was constipated. “So kind of you to make it to Tony's wedding.”

“Well, how could I say no when my dear asked?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You beamed up at him, completely unaware of what this looked like from the outside. Perhaps asking Zemo to be your pretend date wouldn’t be the disaster you had been dreading all these weeks.

After the ambush by Bucky and Sharon, the rest of your friends had to make their voices heard. Some were more subtle about it than others. Tony, for instance, yanked you away from Zemo to have a heated debate behind the bar that you were sure everyone could hear. That was confirmed once you'd finally pulled yourself away from him and returned to find people studiously ignoring you.

Steve, at least, was better about it, just asking if everything was alright. Sam wondered, in front of Zemo, no less, if someone had put something in your drink. Strongly hinting that ‘someone’ was Zemo and that ‘something’ was a type of drug.

Zemo was a courteous guest and danced with you just the right amount. When things finally began winding down, the moon was up and it had been dark for at least three full hours.

“How do you feel about leaving?” Zemo asked, his hand straying to the small of your back. You leaned into him, loving the way it felt to do so. Somehow, despite his age, his body felt firm beneath his dress suit.

“I’m ready. Irish goodbye?” you asked, looking up at him.

He smirked down at you. “The best kind, really.”

You slipped out of the hall, hopefully unseen, and Zemo drove you to your apartment. You were glad to kick off your heels and poured a nightcap for both of you. You settled onto the sofa.

“Cheers to making our way through that unscathed,” You said, clinking your glasses together.

“I hope I wasn’t too terrible of a ‘pretend’ date,” Zemo murmured, looking at you over the top of his glass.

“I thought you didn’t know how to be a pretend date?” you asked, tipping your head to the side and trying desperately to hide a smile.

Zemo hummed. “Perhaps not. Shall we go for round two? Perhaps lunch at that new restaurant near my place?”

“Oh, yes, I would love that,” you said with a grin. Zemo put his glass down and lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.

“It’s a date then,” he said a sly smile on his face. Then he stood and was out your door with a, “See you at noon,” tossed over his shoulder.

You leaned back against your sofa, drinking the rest of your brandy and smiling absently at your door. Asking Zemo to be your pretend wedding date was looking like the best idea you'd had in ages.

#baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #tfatws #zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #zemo x you #zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x y/n #baron helmut zemo x you #baron helmut zemo x y/n

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jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years

Text

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 | Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards. And the press are having a field day. Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt. An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning. Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem. All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

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drmmyrs · 3 years

Text

Remember Me (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hiii I’m back. Sorry again for the delay 😬I had such a hard time writing the ending so thank you so much @samanthadalton for all your help 😘Also, a big thanks to M anon for their suggestions and song request which I used some of.

tag list: @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs @doey-eyes8 @itszdavenport (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2289

It's been an hour since Emily last came into my room to remind me of my doctor's appointment. And it's been about thirty minutes since I've been ready to go, physically at least. Naturally, I tried to get Chris to come with me instead because he's my boyfriend, right? Ughh fine, ex-boyfriend. But can you blame me, though? How am I suppose to move on when I literally have no memory of some sort of breakup or closure? I stare at the dull beige-colored ceiling, a view which has me panicking in the mornings right after I wake up, before I remember that I don't live at the sorority house anymore. I then close my eyes and get comfort in the memories I have left, my only anchor on the reality I knew, away from this freakish place with the people I don't even give a shit about.

After a couple more minutes, I begrudgingly get up with a groan and trudge downstairs, finding Emily waiting on the couch. She smiles upon seeing me, but I don't return the gesture, being genuinely annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an incessant amount of time with her. So instead, I walk past her towards the door, my heels clattering on the wooden surface. Emily then follows behind me from a distance, careful not to invade my space. Once outside, I walk straight towards the passenger door of Emily's junk of a car, grabbing the handle as I glare at Emily impatiently, waiting for her to unlock it. As soon as unlocked, I sink into the seat, slamming the door close harder than I intended. Emily, though, takes a second before going in, eyeing the seat suspiciously as if it might shatter anytime. Once seated, she places her hand on the gear stick, slightly trembling. And then it dawns on me, I may have forgotten about the accident, but it's probably still fresh from her memory, terrorizing her at every reminder. All this time, I've been complaining about how unfair everything is for me, not once considering how it may have affected her.

"Who was driving?" I ask. It may not be the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know.

I see Emily flinch at the question, and before she even opens her mouth, I know. She looks out the windshield, her voice cracking when she replies, "I was."

I nod. My mom told me it was a drunk driver running a red light that hit us, so I don't blame her at all, not anymore.

"Is it–" The words come out sharp, so I stop and soften my voice. "Is it the first time you drove since?"

Emily doesn't reply immediately; instead, she shifts the gear and steps on the gas pedal as we begin to make our way towards the hospital. She grips the steering wheel tightly, anxiously looking at the road, her eyes obsessively sweeping for any oncoming traffic at every intersection.

"No. No it's not but..." Emily trails off, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

But it's her first time to drive with me in the car. I turn my head to look out the window, knowing full well I can't ease her fears. How can I when I'm the living reminder of everything she lost?

---------

I immediately regret my outfit choice as soon as we get into the waiting room, the frigid temperature biting at my skin, sending sharp pains like that of a needle across my exposed skin. I try to play it cool, but a shiver escapes my body, desperate for any source of heat. A few seconds later, a jacket appears in front of me, held by Emily who is wearing an annoyingly cute little smile on her face. I mumble thanks and take the jacket, placing it over my shoulders, smelling the scent of lavender as I bask in the comfort of heat.

I take out my phone and browse my socials, catching up on all the events I missed–or forgotten–while ignoring the get well soon messages from both people I know and don't know that have been piling up ever since the accident. A few minutes later, the doctor calls my name, and as I stand up, Emily does as well but then sits back down almost immediately, clearly unsure if her company is welcome.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

---------

After a useless consultation–apparently, they can't do much to help me regain my memories–Emily suggests we stop by an ice cream parlor not far from here. I assent, but only because I need the comfort of a sugary snack right now, and it's been ages since I had one, or at least I think so.

We reach a store I don't recognize, replacing an office space that, while I never paid attention to before, was a pleasant fixture in my reality, not this... eyesore. I shake my head; I can't keep living in the past. I follow Emily into the store, reminding myself that this is my reality now.

Inside, the floor is patterned with alternating pink and black tiles, and the walls are coated with somewhat fresh pink paint adorned with decors that scream ice cream as if one might stumble into the shop looking for lunch or something.

"Welcome t–ah Emily and Becca! I haven't seen you girls in a while."

I turn around to see a guy, probably in his mid-twenties– smiling at us like... I shoot Emily a side-eye. She, of course, fails to mention that the guy working here is buddy-buddy with me. So, is this the kind of couple we were? Those who frequent an ice cream parlor enough to be on a first-name basis with the ice cream guy? I internally groan in disgust at the thought.

"–Becca." I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my name. Emily and the ice cream guy are looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry I didn't hear," I mumble.

"You'll be having strawberry, your usual, correct?" says the guy with a wide smile.

I do want strawberry, but I shake my head and say, "Vanilla," just to spite him, annoyed how some stranger knows my favorite ice cream flavor.

"Ooh, trying something new today, are we? One rocky road and vanilla coming right up," he announces in an annoyingly high pitch voice. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask, which is met by a look of confusion followed by a laugh.

"You know wh–"

Emily quickly interjects, "The bathroom's there, Becca," pointing at a door at the back of the store.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, heading straight towards the mirror. I stare at my reflection, nitpicking every tiny detail that has changed throughout the years, changes I don't recognize at all. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I'm Rebecca fucking Davenport; I don't cry. I grip the sink tightly, overcome with a new resolution. I know who I am; they don't, convincing myself more than anyone else.

Once finishing up in the bathroom, I head back outside, noticing a different aura in the room. Emily is holding our orders with an apologetic look while the ice cream guy regards me with pity, something I've grown used to in the past few weeks. I take my ice cream from Emily, not meeting her gaze, and walk out of the store, striding ahead of her towards the car, not once looking back.

--------

On the ride home, silence weighs heavily between us as Emily bites at her lower lip, either contemplating what to say or waiting for me to go off on her. After an awkward amount of time, Emily finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I–"

"Forget about it," I cut her off, too exhausted to engage with her. I think about the previous encounter, wondering if that would be my norm. Unfamiliar people coming up to me, sharing inside jokes and anecdotes while I stare blankly at them, wondering if I should explain my situation or just ignore them, being the bitch I know I am. I stare out the window, seeing all the changes in the city, musing about the memories I may have had alongside them, memories that I may or may not recover. It's as if an impostor had been living my life for the past two years, and now I'm forced to follow in their footsteps. It's obvious I had changed a lot during those years, my previous enemies becoming my closest friends, my greatest rival supposedly becoming the love of my life. Was she the love of my life? Was I happy with Emily?

It's already dark outside when we arrive home. I notice a few cars parked down the road, something unusual considering this is the only house for at least a couple of blocks. What do I know, though, it's not like I remember much about this place. I turn my attention back to the house; the lights inside are turned off, leaving a lone street lamp and the car's headlights as the primary sources of light, accentuating the jagged grey bricks of the house, almost giving an appearance of something sinister. This is ridiculous; I chide myself for being scared of a stupid house.

Emily walks ahead towards the door while I follow a few steps behind. As soon as I walk inside, the light turns on, and I'm greeted by a chorus of surprise echoing throughout the house, coming from people whom I only recognize half of. I stare at them blankly, unimpressed but just mostly confused. My mother walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"Happy birthday, sweetie."

Birthday? I inconspicuously look at my phone. Huh. I could've sworn I've seen the date today at least a few times. A few moments later, Emily steps forward with a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday babe," she says, immediately followed by a look of horror. "Becca. Sorry."

Of course Emily had planned this. It doesn't really matter if I wanted to have a stupid party. She had to go ahead and decide for me.

"Go ahead and blow out the candles," my mom urges.

I blow out the candles, faking a smile for my mom. As much as I want to storm into my room, I'm not about to break my mom's heart by causing some unnecessary drama.

--------

Just a few moments into the party, and I'm already exhausted–people lining up to greet me, asking how I've been doing since the accident. I realize that most people here don't know about my condition, which means I have had to engage in quite a few conversations about the things I've supposedly been doing for the past few years, things I have no recollection of, to which I gave vague answers to avoid having to explain everything.

I down my fourth glass of virgin cuba libre, eyeing the display of alcohol with contempt, resentful that I can’t drink because of the medicine I took earlier, when Zack drags me across the room to play some truth or dare with a bunch of people, some of whom I don't recognize. Thankfully, if there was one thing the sorority has taught me, it's that you don't have to know someone to ask the right questions or expertly avoid the common ones. That is of course until someone asks you the most unexpected question.

"Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

I stare at them blankly, fumbling for words. Wedding?

"I–I–"

But before I can make up an answer, Kaitlyn arrives with Emily in tow, and that's when I notice it, the ring on Emily's finger. I gasp for breath, feeling like the air is taken out of my lungs. And I almost don't notice it when Kaitlyn takes out her guitar and starts singing, joined by the others.

When all the tears are rolling down your face And it feels like yours was the only heart to break When you come back home and all the lights are out And you're getting used to no one else being around

Oh, oh, I'll be there

I look at the unfamiliar faces, singing their hearts out, gazing at me fondly. I then turn my gaze to Emily's ring finger, and sitting on it is a small but glistening diamond and part of me chastises myself for not noticing earlier. I feel the entire room’s eyes on me and suddenly, it becomes too much for me to withstand. I stand up, scrabbling to go to my room, footsteps following behind me. Once I got on the stairs, Emily shouts my name from behind, and I stop at the sound of her voice, turning around.

"We were engaged? Why didn't you tell me?" My voice comes out harsher than expected and it seems to take Emily by surprise too because she just stands there motionless, speechless. “Marriage is a big thing Emily, that’s not something you can just conveniently not tell me.” I let out a frustrated groan, momentarily letting the anger wash all over me before I’m left with a bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sick of having random people tell me things about my life which I can’t even remember when my own fianc–” I stop, not even being able to say the word, shaking my head as the agony brought by my predicament proves to be too much. “I can’t do this. I'm sorry," I croak before running towards my room, slamming the door behind me. I then curl myself in bed as the tears fall freely.

#becca #becca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman series #playchoices #my work #my writing #my fanfics #request

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seoracle · 3 years

Text

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame.

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real.

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back.

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist.

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that.

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face.

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.”

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy.

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.”

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!” You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain.

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager).

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind.

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea. “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo.

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu.

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed.

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face.

“Y/N?”

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever.

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.”

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect.

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat.

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long.

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her.

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.”

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.”

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop.

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

#i'm sorry in advance #however thoughts are welcomed #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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ravs6709 · 3 years

Text

Marry Me (There's Free Desserts)- Keefex

I saw a post from @steppingonshatteredglass and immediately decided that I needed to write this. (Also, the tags from this post were fantastic)

So yeah, anyways, human au where Keefe and Dex keep proposing to each other for free desserts. Didn't quite come out as expected, but I still like it

Warnings: Food, swearing.

Enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Keefe began, his eyes gleaming. Dex already knew that he had some idea, and needed Dex's help to go through with it. "You know how we booked that reservation to that fancy restaurant, right?"

Dex nodded. "And..?"

"How do you feel about getting free desserts?"

There was no way that it was as easy as that. "And how do we do that?"

Keefe clapped his hands together. "Did you know that when a proposal happens in a restaurant, the people doing the proposing get free dessert?"

Dex just looked at him. "You want to propose to me for free desserts?"

Keefe just waved a hand. "Don't be ridiculous. If you want to do the proposing, I'm cool with it!"

"You do know that we're not dating, right?"

If Keefe had made such an offer to him a few years ago, Dex probably would have panicked, would have stuttered and blushed. He still had a crush on Keefe, but their friendship had grown, and he worried less about the possibility of being rejected (though he still had no plans on actually confessing).

Keefe shrugged. "Just a thought, y'know?

Dex rested an arm on his shoulder. "For the record, I didn't say no."

He grinned. "Great!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, what are you doing?"

Dex paused and turned towards Keefe, who was standing at his room doorway. "I'm looking for the ring?"

"I feel like if we're gonna be convincing, we'll need a fancy ring. And dude, most of the jewelry you own are stuff that you made, which are kinda plain."

He crossed his arms. "I'm taking the minecraft bee earrings back," he deadpanned.

"No!" Keefe shrieked, taking a step back and cupping his ears dramatically. "These are like the best things I've ever owned, and you gifted them to me. No take backsies!"

He turned back towards his dresser. "And I have two things to say to that. First off, back off, my stuff is cool. Using stuff that we made could be sentimental, and I doubt a waiter actually cares."

"Okay, that's fair. I shall not insult your jewelry again."

"Thank you. Secondly, I'm looking for a very specific ring that I didn't make, actually."

He sorted through a few more things, until he came across a small black case. He opened it, just to confirm what was inside- a silver ring with a gem that gleamed various shades of blue.

"Ooh, that's shiny, how come I've never seen that before?" Keefe asked, suddenly standing right next to him. "I've lived with you for what, six years now?"

"I only received it kinda recently, it was the ring dad proposed to me with, and she give it to me a few months ago for future use."

"Ooh, do you have any crushes? Actually- whatever, you don't need to say. I just wanna know if it fits me."

He picked up the ring and slipped it onto his ring finger. Dex noticed that it happened to fit perfectly.

"Give me your hand, I think we have the same ring size, but I wanna see!"

Before Dex could say anything, Keefe had picked up his left hand, and slid the finger on him. That, combined with the soft expression on Keefe's face, made the moment feel more romantic.

"Oh- looks like it fits." Dex had to actively make sure his voice didn't sound like a squeak. Come on, I can't go blushing like this!

"Yeah, it does. Does that mean we have everything prepared? Who's doing the proposing, me or you?"

"You can do it, probably. Should we practice the speech?"

"Nah, I think it'd be better if it was a surprise."

"Okay, got it."

•~•~•~•~•~•

They were sitting on the couch, watching some romantic drama Dex couldn't remember the name of. It was a pretty standard one- love at first sight, they grow closer, something dramatic would drive them apart (in this case, it was miscommunication and the guy's obsessive ex).

After the couple eventually got back together, there was the proposal scene.

"Better take notes, Keefe," he joked.

They continued watching, as the proposal happened, and after the "Yes!" was squealed, there was a long and passionate kiss.

Both men turned to each other, knowing that there was a problem.

"So... guess who forgot that kisses are super frequent in proposals..?" Dex asked, wincing when his voice cracked.

Seriously, what is happening right now?

"I wouldn't mind," Keefe murmured, the words so light that Dex wasn't sure if he heard it right.

"What did you say?"

Did he just say..?

"I..." He looked nervous, eyes darting everywhere except towards him. "I- I wouldn't mind if you kissed me."

There were so many things that Dex wanted to say, but he had no idea how to say it. So instead, he mustered the courage and leaned forward, planting a quick kiss. He hoped that all the words he wanted to say, all the emotions that he'd been feeling were conveyed.

Keefe smiled, then took his hand. "I'm so glad we got that figured out before we did the fake proposals."

"Oh, yeah. That would have been really confusing."

If there was anything else that needed to be said, they could discuss it later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Go pretend to use the washroom," Keefe whispered. "I'll tell the waiter that I plan to propose."

Dex went to the washroom, and after a few minutes, he washed his hands (better be safe) and returned. They ate their dinner and chatted. Once they were nearly done, Keefe took his hand.

"Hey, Dex?"

"Yeah?"

"I really love you, you know that, right? We've known each other for twelve years, and we did kinda get off on the wrong foot because of how Wonderboy had acted at first. But I'm so glad that things changed and that I became friends with you. You're also my pranking partner, most of my best pranks only managed to happen because you were right there with me."

Keefe moved from his seat to in front of him, then began to kneel down.

"Living with you has led the some of the best memories in my life, you've shown me the love that I've always wanted. And I want to keep living with you, I want to keep loving forever, and what I'm asking is, will you marry me, and allow me to become Keefe Dizznee?"

Dex looked at him, and for a brief moment, he forgot all about the fact that this was fake and also only their first date. The words that he'd said were beautiful, and combined with the earnest expression on Keefe's face, it was absolutely awe-inspiring. If this had been a real proposal, he definitely would have accepted without any hesitation.

"Yes," he breathed, smiling with giddiness. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The kiss they shared was more of them smiling against each other than anything else, wrapped in each other's embraces.

It was only after he had pulled away that he realized that the other people in the restaurant were clapping.

The dessert that eventually came their way was sweet, and definitely worth everything it took to get to it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Keefe began, flopping onto his bed and pulling Dex down beside him. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was fun," Dex agreed. "Are you saying that we should do it again?"

He nodded. "That's exactly what I was planning to say. You can propose next time, I'm totally ready for you to astound me."

Dex knew he wasn't great with words, but he was definitely going to make sure that his engagement speech was perfect.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So, a friend told me that you proposed to Dex," Fitz's voice said through Keefe's phone (which was left on speaker). "I mean, I wasn't even aware that you two finally got together."

"I'm still calling bullsh*t on that one!" Sophie yelled, her voice somewhat distant.

"It technically did happen though. And we are in fact together," Keefe replied.

"Since when? And why didn't you tell us?" Fitz asked.

Dex was trying to suppress his laughter, but ended up failing. "Uh, we got together a few days ago," he finally said. "I can't believe it's only been a day since the proposal and you've already managed to figure it out."

Fitz sputtered. "What kind of proposal happens on the first date?"

"The kind where we scam everyone and get free desserts," Keefe answered. "It's one of my more brilliant ideas."

"Hey Fitz, can we go scam people for free food too?" Sophie asked, this time sounding a lot closer to the phone than before.

"Back off Foster, that's our idea, you're not allowed to steal it."

Fitz only sighed. "Look Sophie, even if we tried, it wouldn't work because my family is everywhere, and after the first time, nobody's gonna buy it."

Both Dex and Keefe laughed at Sophie's whine.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had offered to buy a different engagement for Keefe, but he insisted that he used the same ring that was used the last time. (He was starting to have suspicions of something, but he wasn't quite sure if he was right yet).

Keefe had left for the restaurant washroom (a different restaurant, neither of them were stupid enough to try it again in the same place), and when the waiter came over to ask questions, Dex told them his plan.

The waiter congratulated him, then asked about what dessert they would want. After that, it was just like last time, where it felt like a normal outing, until it was time to propose.

"Hey Keefe?" Dex asked, reaching for his hand, just like Keefe had done the last time.

"Yeah?"

"I've known you for twelve years, back when I had had really bad self-esteem. After we became friends, I still haf myself convinced that everyone didn't actually like me, but like a bright light, you guided me. You helped me come out of my shell, and together, we shared some of my favourite memories."

He was up by then, moving in front of Keefe.

"I've had many doubts about my life, but loving you? I've never had any doubts, because loving you has always felt natural, and I can't ever see myself wanting to choose someone who isn't you. We've been partners for so long, and now I'm asking if you can be my partner in marriage. So Keefe, will you marry me and become Keefe Dizznee?"

He took great delight in Keefe's wide eyes, his parted lips and the flush on his face.

"I wouldn't want anything more than to marry you," Keefe said with a smile.

Dex had a feeling that they would be doing this quite often, but he had no problems with that.

•~•~•~•~•~•

They continued to do their fake proposals. Even after they did it over a dozen times, they still didn't get caught.

"Hey Keefe?" Dex asked, during the middle of one of their cuddling sessions.

"What is it?" Keefe asked, rolling around to face him.

"So when it comes to an actual proposal, do you want me to be the one proposing to you?"

He had his suspicions- Keefe had an attachment to the engagement ring (he remembered Keefe's eagerness to wear it when he first saw it), how Keefe was going to become a Dizznee, and each time Dex proposed to him, he always looked awestruck.

"You do it," Keefe replied, confirming what Dex had thought. "Also, don't tell me beforehand, I want it to be a surprise."

"But-"

"It'll feel even more real, because now I won't know which one's the fake one. You can always tell me afterward if it was meant to be the real one. Okay?"

"Okay."

•~•~•~•~•~•

For the most part, their engagement speeches for each of the proposals had been mostly similar. They were never the same, but the general idea had been the same. So if Dex wanted to actually propose, he wanted to make sure that this time, it was something special.

He paced back and forth in his room, hoping that his footsteps weren't loud enough for Keefe to hear.

I've done this so many times, I don't need to be this nervous!

At this point, it was going to be obvious that it was real.

Deep breaths. Think about how casual your relationship has been. It'll be fine.

In the past, he might not have been as willing to believe his words as he was now. He trusted Keefe, and he trusted himself to make sure that everything went right.

Something special... something special doesn't always mean something fancy...

That thought calmed him down even more. They then went to the restaurant and ate, just like always.

The waiter looked confused, eyes darting between the two of them on multiple occasions. Before Dex could ask about it, the waiter asked to take their orders, and then he forgot all about it.

It began to feel just like their usual routine again, where they ate and just spoke about whatever they felt like doing.

"Y'know, sometimes," Dex began. "I think a lot about how we've come together. We became friends over teasing Sophie and Fitz, along with pranking. We just came together, and it was natural, and my feelings came just as casually.

"Even us getting together, it just happened. Sure, it took something that got us to actually say something, but neither of us actually worried about it. All these dinner dates, it's just like how we've always been. We've come so far together, and I'd like to ask if you'd continue this path with me. Will you marry me?" Then, he dropped his voice to a low whisper. "There's free desserts."

Just like always, there was a soft smile on Keefe's face, his eyes wide and face flushed, always glad to be able to hear that.

"Of course," Keefe replied. "I've chosen to be with you this far, and that's the way it'll continue." Then he grinned, before whispering, "Though the free desserts definitely help a lot."

Dex laughed as he put the ring on Keefe's finger, and Dex wasn't sure if it was just the lighting, but the ring seemed to he shining more than usual.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"That's the actual proposal, right?" Keefe asked during one of their cuddling sessions. "It felt a little different."

"Yeah, it was."

He took a hold of Keefe's left hand, relishing its warmth as light thumps of Keefe's heartbeat lulled him to sleep.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It probably would have been assumed that after they got married, they would have stopped with their fake proposals- but they didn't do that. They continued on and on, until they began to run out of places to go without the risk of repeating restaurants (they actually did manage to get exposed once, somehow, so they had no intention of doing that again).

Dex smiled as he fed Keefe a piece of the dessert, feeling glad that everything turned out that way.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Kotlc taglist- @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Just let me know!

#dex dizznee #keefe sencen #keefex #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #fanfiction #ravi writes a thing

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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 years

Text

Should've said no - Adam Ruzek imagine

Based on the song 'should've said no' by Taylor swift

Warnings: some strong language? No happy ending maybe?

-------

It's strange to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, everything, is gone... Yesterday I found out about you, even now just looking at you, feels wrong...

I frowned from my place at the kitchen table, looking over the pictures that littered the walls, not only in here but all over the apartment, the whiskey that sat on the side that I bought because he's never liked the wine I drink, the special coffee and the mugs that all reminded me of him which any other day would have me fighting the smile from my face, but today, today they made me feel sick.

'I'm sorry, this isn't the first time and I thought you should know.." accompanied by a picture of Adam and his ex Wendy, lips stuck together in time, an image that will be forever seared into my brain.

Memories of late night walks, our dates, the flowers he would bring me at work, the times where we'd ride in his car and sing lyrics at the top of our lungs with no care about just how bad we sounded, all gone. In the blink of an eye Adam had thrown our whole relationship out of the window for an 18 wheeler to demolish in seconds.

The door opening and closing forced my eyes open, the now cold cup of coffee mocking me as it sits there, the contents long forgotten about. Lifting my eyes to meet the figure stood in the kitchen door way I frowned and looked down.

How is that only yesterday I couldn't stop staring at the man I love, loved, and now just looking at him feels all kinds of wrong?

You say that you'd take it all back, given the one chance, it was a moment of weakness and you said yes...

"Hey babe." He spoke first, my eyes falling onto his lips as the pet name came, the simple word accompanied by the feeling of being punched in the stomach.

"Where was you Adam?" I asked calmly, wanting to see which excuse he'd use this time.

"The case ran over."

"I was with Jay and Kev."

"Helping my dad out."

"The case took a turn for the worst, the whole team had to stay late, I would've text but I didn't want to wake you." He spoke, calm and collected, small smile on his face, jerk.

"The whole team huh." I let out a small humourless laugh, of course he's got his excuses ready. "That's strange." I sighed faking slight confusion as I picked up my phone, pulling up the text that Kim had sent the night before.

"Yeah, been a long night." He shrugged heading over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

"Oh I bet." I chuckled, shaking my head slightly as I slid the phone over the dining table for him to see. "I bet Wendy's exhausted." I growled, my anger washing over the faux-calm I was trying to maintain, finding slight amusement in the way his eyes widened and his face paled.

"Y/n.." he trailed off, putting my phone down on the table before running his hands over his face and through his hair, looking at me with nothing but guilt. "Listen, it was a mistake okay? A one time, stupid, immature mistake. She was just there and I'd had a couple drinks and I don't know, I don't know what to say other than it was just a moment of weakness." He rushed out, moving so he was stood next to me, taking my hands in his before I pulled them away and stood up from the chair, the force causing it to fall backwards onto the tiled ground with a bang.

You should've said 'no', you should've gone home, you should've thought twice 'fore you let it all go, you should've known that word, 'bout what you did with her would get back to me...

And I should've been there in the back of your mind, I shouldn't be asking myself why, you shouldn't be begging for forgiveness at my feet, you should've said 'no', baby and you might still have me.

"A moment of weakness? Weakness? That's what you're excuse is? She fluttered her eyelashes and that was it, you was weak enough to throw everything we've ever had under a bus just for a little fun with an ex?" I raised my voice, not quite shouting yet as I know that the neighbours across the hall have young children.

"Yeah, I swear that's all there was to it." He started talking again, his words falling on deaf ears as the tears starting to build up along with the anger that has festered inside for the last 12 hours was making me see nothing but red.

"You should've said no Adam! You should've thought about me! About coming home to me! Was I even on your mind at all? Did you think of me once while you were out fucking her behind my back?!" I yelled, the thought of the children just moments ago gone as he stood looking at me with a small frown.

"What do you want me to say?" He sighed, pushing his hand through his hair for the hundredth time. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry!" He said quietly, or maybe it was at a normal volume and my mind was just fading out his words.

You can see that I've been crying, baby you know all the right things, to say, but do you, honestly, expect me to believe, that we could ever be the same?

You say that the past is the past, you need one chance, it was a moment of weakness and you said yes...

"Do you know how badly you've hurt me?" I asked, my shoulders dropping as the first of the tears started to fall. "I know what I look like Adam, I know you can see that I've spent all night crying over you, how you broke me." I finished with a whisper, shaking my head slightly at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

"Baby no, don't cry, please." He pleaded, his voice shaky as he came over and wrapped his arms around me, leaving me to cry into his chest. "I know I fucked up, and I fucked up so badly and I can never, ever, apologise to you enough for it to make it okay, but the past is in the past, just give me one chance. One chance to prove that I can be the man you need me to be, I'll do anything to prove to you just how much I love you y/n, please." He whispered, resting his head on mine as he sniffed quietly. "I'll get you all the flowers I can carry, the fancy dinners, jewellery, we can get married and have kids and have the life I know you've wanted since you were younger, you've just gotta give me one last chance." He finished his speech by giving me a slight squeeze, his arms hugging my waist as though I'd disappear if he let go, which wasn't exactly wrong.

"No, Adam." I mumbled shaking my head and pulling out of his hold, taking a couple steps back so his arms fell to his sides. "I'm not stupid, I know that this isn't the first time it's happened, and I'm not naive enough to assume that it would be the last either." I sighed, crossing my arms across myself in attempt to hold myself together.

"You know, you really do have all the right things to say don't you, talking about getting married, having kids, but do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same after this? After you broke my trust and my heart all in the space of one night, I don't think I can ever look at you the same way again." I spoke with confidence, ignoring the slight shake in my voice as I narrowed my eyes at the guilt ridden man in front of me.

You should've said no, you should've gone home, you should've thought twice 'fore you let it all go. You should've known that word, 'bout what you did with her, would get back to me.

And I should've been there in the back of your mind, I shouldn't be asking myself why, you shouldn't be begging for forgiveness at my feet, you should've said no, baby and you might still have me...

"Please y/n!" His sudden yelled made me jump slightly, watching as he started to pace the length of the kitchen. "What do you want me to say for you to believe me? To believe that it was a mistake that I regret! You want me to beg? I'll get on my knees and beg you for the rest of my life!" He sounded frustrated as he suddenly turned and dropped to his knees infront of me, his hands folded together as though he was praying. "Please y/n, don't give up on me, on us, just yet." He whispered, his tear filled eyes shining into mine, my heartbreaking ever so slightly more as he did.

"It's not going to fix anything Adam." I sighed turning away from him for a second to compose myself. "You shouldn't have to beg me Adam, you just should've said no, you should've told her that I was waiting for you and came back, to me!" I cried, wiping at my cheeks only for new tears to replace the old ones. "If you would've just said no then maybe you might still have me." I whispered as I walked out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, where I'd left his bags that I had packed at 3am this morning.

I can't resist, before you go tell me this, was it worth it? Was she, worth it?

"Y/n... please.." I heard him beg from behind me, ignoring him I pushed past with the bags in my hand and dropped them by the front door.

"Goodbye Adam." I whispered sadly, making my way back into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway and looking back to where Adam stood silently staring at his bags in the hall.

"Was it worth it?" I asked suddenly, his head snapping up to me as of surprised to hear my voice again. "Losing everything we had? Was she worth it?" I clarified, putting emphasis on the 'she'.

"You know she wasn't." He muttered sadly, shaking his head. "Nothing is worth losing you." He sighed, rubbing his jaw as he looked back down at his bags.

"Yet you've lost me anyway." I whispered sadly, a lone tear running down my face which I hastily wiped away as Adam picked up his bags before opening the front door.

"I love you, y/n, and no matter what I always will." He said, looking back over his shoulder with a small, sad smile on his face.

"Bye, Adam." I whispered looking down to the ground, leaving him to make his own way out.

As soon as I heard the lock of the door click into place signalling it's locked I dropped to the ground, knees up against my chest with my head low, my arms pulling my knees closer to me as I let myself sob for my own broken heart.

You should've said no, baby and you might still have me...

----

Feel free to send in any requests 😁🥰

#adam ruzek imagine #adam ruzek imagines #one chicago pd imagine #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagines #Adam Ruzek #chicago pd imagine

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 2

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 2. Click here for part 1.

“I’m sorry I bailed.” Zach is sitting on the couch, his leg up on a pillow. Lady is laying on the floor, and both of them are looking equally guilty.

You think maybe Lady puked in Zach’s shoes somewhere again, and maybe he kinda deserved it.

“I hate you,” you tell him, but there’s no heat behind it. Alannah comes out the bedroom holding a pair of shoes.

“See if these fit you,” she orders, giving them to you.

“I like your wife more than you,” you say to Zach, who just laughs. He knows that’s not true: you love them equally.

You may love Lady a little more than both of them combined, however.

“I think it’s good that you’re going with Willy,” Zach says. “You can practice looking like you don’t hate him.” He holds out your cup of coffee, and you take a sip before handing it back to him.

If he’s not going to this wedding with you, he might as well hold your drink.

“I don’t hate him,” you mumble. “I just don’t adore him like you do. You worship the ground he walks on.”

“I think you’d get along great, if you tried,” Alannah says, although you can’t remember asking for her opinion – fine, maybe you’re a little grumpy about it all. “He’s very funny, and he’s easy to chat to. Your family will love that.” She grins. “Besides, he’s hot.”

“Very hot,” Zach nods in agreement, and it would be weird if it wasn’t how everyone responded to William Nylander.

It’s exhausting, to be honest.

Zach, being the great friend that he often is, must notice your reluctance, because he smiles, and his voice is gentle when he says: “Hey, you look beautiful, Y/N. Honestly, nobody is gonna believe that you brought Willy, you’re way outta his league.”

You’re about to tell him to stop lying – you’re not stupid, thank you very much, and William Nylander is still very much not in your league, maybe not even in the same sport - when there’s a knock on the door.

“Must be him.” Alannah fixes your hair and your dress, and Zach gets up and hobbles towards the door, Lady on his heels.

“It’s gonna go great,” she whispers with a wink, and you wonder if you look that nervous, or if your friends just know you very well.

It’s just…

Fine, normally you don’t like Will, but you can stand him for an hour or two. Especially because you’re never alone with him, so you just plaster yourself to Zach’s side, or Mitchy’s, or Dermie’s, or…

Well, anyone, really.

But now you are alone with him, and for multiple hours at that, and you’re going to have to convince your boss and your colleagues that he’s your plus one.

How on earth are they ever going to believe you? Worse, what if someone recognizes him?

“Wow, you look great.”

You turn around to see Will staring at you, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. He’s cleaned up nice, to be fair; his grey suit fits just right, hugging his muscles in all the right places, and you can tell he’s actually put effort in his hair today.

“Already told her she’s out of your league, buddy,” Zach jokes, slapping Will on the shoulder the way bro’s do, sometimes, and then there’s some pleasantries exchanged and Alannah fixes your lipstick and then suddenly you’re in Will’s car.

It’s a nice car, but it’s not overly posh or flashy, and it surprised you a little. With Will’s ridiculous clothing choices something – Balenciaga socks, really? – you’d expected him to have some sorta matched car to Mitchy’s stupid sports car.

“You look like I’m putting you in a tractor,” Will laughs, as he starts the car. You must’ve been looking around a little dazed, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the notion that you’ve been caught.

“Sorry,” you say. Then, because you wanna start this day off on the right note: “It’s a nice car, just not what I expected from you.”

Will hums. “Usually when people say that, it’s not a compliment.”

But he doesn’t say it in a malicious way, just very matter of factly, so you don’t bother to defend yourself – he’s kinda right, after all – and just listen to the music that he puts on.

“Country?” you feel yourself smile. “Where’s the ABBA?”

“I was born in Calgary,” Will rolls his eyes in a playful way, then turns up the music.

It’s not until you’re almost there that Will speaks.

“So, how do you wanna do this?”

For a second, you wonder what he’s talking about; you were lost in the music and staring out the window at the beautiful scenery surrounding you. Your boss is getting married in an old, beautiful mansion somewhere in the countryside, and you’re surrounded by green fields and scenic streams.

“Oh, I thought we’d just go in and like, see what happens. We’re only gonna go to the reception, not the ceremony, so it should be good. Drinks and food and music, and stuff.”

“I meant more in regards to the fake dating stuff.”

“Oh.” Now your cheeks are truly flaming. “I mean, I guess I could just introduce you as my plus one and they’ll assume we’re dating?”

Then, - and you have no idea where this came from - you add: “We could try to look flirty, so it makes more sense.”

Willy nods in agreement. “You’re a smart one.” When you snort in response, he raises an eyebrow. “What, I can’t say that?”

“No, you can.” You decide to tell him the truth. “It’s just funny cause the one thing I never liked about Noah was that he would always compliment me on my appearance when I was dressed up or whatever, but he would never compliment me on any accomplishments or my characteristics or just, anything other than my body, basically.” You look out of the window. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him because of this wedding stuff, and I guess it’s just one of those things that tells me it was never meant to be.”

It stays quiet in the driver’s seat, and when you glance up at Will he’s frowning.

“Literally everything you’ve said about this guy makes me want to punch him in the nose,” he finally says, and there’s an edge to his voice. “You deserve so much better, Y/N, and…” He cuts himself off, settles on; “He just sounds like a dick.”

You must be staring at Will like he grew a second head, because that’s not what your… acquintanceship, has ever been like. You’re not even really friends, and Will has never said anything to you that wasn’t a mere observation – “nice restaurant” – a question about logistics – “did you wanna hop in this Uber or are you going to ride with Matts?” – or, well, a chirp.

But he seems genuinely offended on your behalf and you have to admit it warms your heart a little.

Maybe, just maybe, you kinda see why Zach likes him. This type of loyal, fierce protectiveness reminds you of your best friend a lot. Maybe Will isn’t so bad.

“We’re there,” Will says then, and the mansion that dooms up in front of you is big enough to be classified as a castle, you think. Will parks the car, but doesn’t get out. “So,” he asks, eyeing you carefully, “you ready?”

Not really.

But you nod anyway.

As soon as you walk into the building, which is massive and beautiful, one of your colleagues comes running up to you.

“Ellie,” you greet her with a smile, and she kisses your cheek quickly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she beams. “It’s just no fun without you.”

Ellie is one of your favorite colleagues, always down to go on coffee breaks with you and talk about whatever is on your mind. If anyone would know that you were going to take Will to the wedding, it would’ve been her, except she hadn’t known, so you’re not surprised by her wide eyes as she takes Will in.

“Hello?” she asks, an obvious question mark at the end of her sentence.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Will’s smile is bright and polite. “I’m Will, Y/N’s plus one for the night.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Ellie smiles, then turns to you and hisses: “You didn’t tell me you were gonna bring a hot guy!”

Except she’s not being quiet or subtle at all, and a smug smirk appears on Willy’s face.

Just when you thought his head couldn’t get any bigger.

It turns out to be way easier than you thought it would be, to go around and introduce people to Will.

Nobody mentions that they recognize him and you’re glad for it, because the one time someone stared at him a bit too long Willy started shuffling on his feet and staring at the floor, as if the attention made him uncomfortable.

You know it doesn’t, because you’ve seen him with fans before, but you can’t help but be glad that he doesn’t have to be William Nylander from the Toronto Maple Leafs, tonight.

It’s not like you would really know how to handle that.

Apart from that moment, Will fits in like he was always supposed to be there. He charms your coworkers, your boss, and it doesn’t surprise you because you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who’s not been charmed by him, but it still lifts a weight off your chest.

At first, Will follows you around the room while you talk to people. He stays close enough that his shoulder keeps brushing yours, and every now and then his hand lays heavy on your lower back.

You suppose it’s better that way, to make people think that you actually like each other.

Somehow, though, and you really don’t remember the exact time you lost him, Will ends up talking to some people you’ve not even ever met before, while you’re standing by the bar with Ellie.

“So,” Ellie says, and the knowing tone in her voice puts you on edge. “You forgot to mention you have a smoking hot boyfriend.”

Immediately, you go into defense. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend of Zach’s, and he’s come as my plus one as a favor.”

Ellie knows Zach from your birthday dinners, and she nods knowingly.

“I figured. He plays hockey, too, right?”

How the hell does she know that?

The question must show on your face because she laughs. “It’s not rocket science. Have you looked at his ass?”

You can’t say you’ve never looked at it, but you haven’t looked at it today. However, now that she’s mentioned it, you can’t stop yourself from letting your gaze travel.

His ass looks really good in that suit, you have to admit.

“If you thought he was my boyfriend, why were you looking at his ass anyway?” It’s mostly teasing, but Ellie hears the underlying edge under it and rolls her eyes.

“I don’t have to drive the car to admire the engine.”

It such a ridiculous comparison that you burst out laughing. You’re still giggling when Ellie adds: “However, if you’re not dating, maybe I’ll go shoot my shot.”

Something twists in your stomach, but there’s absolutely no reason for it. Why would you care if she flirts with Will? He’s not actually dating you.

“You do that,” you tell her, and you ignore the heavy feeling in your stomach as she winks at you and saunters over at Will.

The thing is, Ellie is exactly the kinda girl you’d expect Will to be interested in. She’s beautiful, with long legs and long hair, and she’s witty and funny and smart. She’s also actually good at flirting – you’ve seen her in enough bars to know that.

You watch as Will turns to her, welcoming her with a sly smirk and a hand on her elbow. She throws her head back when she laughs, and suddenly your wine doesn’t taste so good anymore.

You don’t really see Will – or Ellie, for that matter – the rest of the evening. You go around and mingle with people you don’t really care about, congratulate the happy couple and drink a little too much wine.

It’s a lot later when suddenly, a familiar hand lands on your lower back.

“Don’t kill me,” Will’s voice sounds low in your ear. “But I did something kinda dumb.”

Oh no.

You put on your fakest smile as you excuse yourself from your conversation and let Willy pull you with him through the crowd, until you’re in an empty hallway that you think leads to the kitchen.

“What did you do?” you hiss, and Willy’s hand drops away from you as he stares to the floor.

“First, you need to promise not to get mad,” he says.

You really can’t promise that, but Will has crossed his arms and is stubbornly staring at you, and you know Will is used to getting what he wants and won’t tell you unless you agree with him. So you do.

“Fine.”

“So your friend Ellie was flirting with me,” he starts. Instantly, your blood runs cold; if he did something to upset her… “Fucking hell, Y/N, I didn’t hurt her.” Will rolls his eyes. “What kinda jerk do you think I am?”

He seems genuinely offended and you chide yourself for rushing to conclusions like that, when you’ve never known Will to be that kinda guy.

Sure, he’s annoying, cocky and loud and flippant, sometimes, but he’s not evil. He’s one of Zach’s best friends, after all.

“I was nice to her,” Will continues, “and she was nice, too. Super hot.” His eyes twinkle, and you have to shove back the flash of annoyance that tears through your body. You don’t need Will to see that.

“Anyway, I’m here supposed to be dating you, so obviously I didn’t flirt back, but she wasn’t giving up and it was getting a bit much, so I thought, if I just talk with someone else she’ll get the hint. And I was just being nice to that other girl, but I guess it looked like I was flirting.”

The most horrible thought crosses your mind.

“You didn’t flirt with the bride!”

The sigh Will lets out is heavy. “No, obviously not. You have a really low opinion on me, huh?”

You kinda do, but you just stare at him blankly.

“It was just some girl who maybe kinda has a boyfriend, and now that boyfriend maybe kinda wants to break my face.” His eyes widen comically. “I have a very nice face, I don’t want to break it.”

You can’t help it; immediately, you’re snorting out laughter.

“Willy,” you giggle, “are you telling me you’re about to get beat up at a wedding?”

Will huffs. “It’s not funny. He was massive.”

Suddenly, you think of something. “Oh my God, please tell me it’s not Rick from finance.”

“What does Rick from finance look like?” Willy’s eyes are wide and a little wild.

With every detail you describe, he gets paler, until he nods. “Yep, I’m pretty sure it was Rick from finance.”

“Rick from finance does MMA fighting in his spare time,” you tell him, finally feeling a little sorry for him. “He could destroy you.”

Will reaches out and grabs your hand, squeezes it tight as if that will somehow keep him safe. “We have to get out of here.”

Maybe, if you were a lesser person, you would’ve stayed, just to see Willy sweat. But you do feel bad for him and to be honest, you’re tired and kinda done with the wedding, anyway.

“Okay, let’s go home,” you promise him, softly patting his hand with yours. “But when we get home, I’m so gonna tell Zach you nearly got beat up by some guy in finance.”

“Don’t you dare,” Will threatens, but he’s smiling again and you won’t admit to yourself that you’re glad for it.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I really wasn’t flirting with that girl, or the other girl. I wouldn’t do that when I came here with you.”

And it shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t.

It kinda does, anyway.

#william nylander #william nylander fic #nhl fic #toronto maple leafs fic

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buckysmischief · 3 years

Text

running in the dark - 2

Bucky Barnes x reader

Alex Summers x reader

Word Count: 2,224

Warning(s): language, drinking & smoking

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Playlist

“Good morning, gorgeous.” The smell of pancakes and syrup filled your senses, pulling you out of a deep sleep.

Without opening your eyes you eventually spoke up, “Pancakes and pet names won’t fix anything, Alex. How’d you get in anyway?”

“Wanda slammed the door in my face-”

“-as she should.”

“-so I climbed in through the window.” He confessed.”And I’m not sure there is a way to make up for my actions last night, but I overreacted and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse, I’m just a dumbass.”

In all the time you’ve known Alex, he’s hardly apologized, but in no way did that mean he was sincere. “Look you can say whatever you want but actions mean more to me. Be the boyfriend I deserve or just leave. I’m too tired to keep fighting for something you don’t seem to take seriously at all.”

He’s never been the best boyfriend, but he definitely wasn’t the worst - not that that’s saying much. If he wasn’t willing to put in the work, though, then you could live without him.

“I’ll be better, for us. I promise.” You could tell by the look on his face he meant it, or at least wanted to, even his tone was different than the other times.

“Okay, but you really gotta show me this time, and give me those pancakes before I accidentally push you off the bed.”

After you stuffed your face, you let him cuddle with you. It could have been your full stomach, or being wrapped up in your boyfriend, but eventually you fell back asleep.

This was the side of Alex that you wish everyone else could see, the side where he was soft, gentle, and caring. Of course you didn’t want everyone knowing first hand just how comfortable his embrace felt, that was just for you.

You had known him since high school but were never in the same circles, your paths never even crossed unless you were in detention at the same time. God forbid anyone tried to talk in there though, the teacher was a bitch and would add days just because she could. It wasn’t until a few years ago that you met him and started dating.

Well, you ran into each other at a club, talked for a few hours, and ended up half naked in his bed the next morning. Things were very casual in the beginning, well as casual as exclusive fuck buddies could be. About a year and a half ago you both decided to make things official. That’s when things started getting rocky.

He became more jealous, a lot worse than he was the night before, that was something he needed to work on again. A part of you really wanted this to work out, you’d definitely needed to convince your friends to give him another chance but that was for another day.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Alex was pulling you out of your sleep, “Hey princess, you gotta get up. Wanda’s been blowing up your phone.”

“Ugh, I must be late.” you groaned and rolled out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and an on band tee.

“For what? I thought you were off today?”

“You remember Leslie, Pietro’s girlfriend? She’s moving in today, and so is Bucky I guess. I told them I’d help unpack and stuff.” You were lowkey expecting him to freak out, but he looked absolutely calm.

“I know I’m probably not welcome, but I can help if y’all need it.” He knew if he was ever going to make it work with you, he needed to have a better relationship with your friends. He’s trying.

“As much as I’d love that,” you say, giving him a kiss, “I think it would be better to plan something ahead of time.”

“We can go to Topgolf, maybe a cookout on the beach?” A part of you was almost suspicious at how different he was acting, you made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

“A cookout would probably be best,” another ding came from your phone, Wanda was outside waiting. “Come on, you can come back over later if you want.”

He stopped you before reaching the front door, pulling you into a kiss with enough passion to leave you breathless and weak in the knees. “Text me when you get home, I love you.”

“I love you too, have a good day babe.”

You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you from the car, silently judging you. “I’m not going to tell you what I’m thinking.” She said, pulling out the driveway.

“Small blessings.” You laughed.

“BUT, that’s because I’ve said it 100 times and I don’t feel like wasting my breath anymore.” She was thinking you were an idiot who deserves better and blah blah blah, and she’s right, but you learned a long time ago that if you couldn’t get over this crush for Bucky then you’d spend the rest of your life settling for anyone who wasn’t him.

That didn’t mean your feelings for Alex were fake or anything - they’re real - they just didn’t compare to how Bucky had made you feel almost your whole life. It didn’t help that all of those feelings came back the second you saw him standing in your living room.

“So how long is Bucky staying with P?”

“Until he finds a place nearby,” she replied, not mentioning the subject change, “he didn’t really have much though so we're really just helping Leslie.”

“So what you’re saying is the boys are going to do all the heavy lifting while the three of us just organize it all?”

“Exactly.”

As Wanda parked next to the curb you could see the boys unloading the U-Haul while Leslie directed them safely in the house.

Her and Pietro have been together for awhile now, no one knows how long exactly because they’re assholes and won’t tell. They said they’ll reveal it on their wedding day, but everyone knows neither of them are the marrying type. You know what kind of people treat their friends and family that way? People that belong together apparently.

“Thank God you’re finally here!” Leslie shouted as she ran from the front patio to hug them both. “What held you up?”

“Someone had an early moring visitor.” Wanda’s voice didn’t show a hint of irritation, but her mean sideeye did.

“Someone’s just mad no one climbed through their window and brought them breakfast.” Truth be told, that comment was kind of mean. Sam, Wanda’s boyfriend, was currently stationed on the other side of the country and she didn’t get to see him a lot. And yes, if he was here she probably would have gotten an entire breakfast platter made for her. But just because you understand her dislike of Alex doesn’t that mean she has to remind you in subtle ways whenever she feels like it.

“Speaking of food,” Pietro interrupts, “is it almost lunchtime? I’m starving.”

“Who are you, Scooby-Doo? You just ate 30 minutes ago.” Leslie laughs.

“I’ll pickup some wings and pizza,” you offer, walking inside the house, “Where’s Bucky? He’s coming with me.”

“Is he?”

“He owes me eight years, he doesn’t have a choice.”

You eventually found him in the back yard, sitting in the sand. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Never,” he smiled, “you can sit next to me you know. I don’t bite.”

“Eight year old me would beg to differ, but I’m good. About to pick up some food, wanna come with?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope, come on.”

Wanda called in the order to the pizza place near the boardwalk, so by the time Bucky pulled up there shouldn’t be a long wait. You decided to walk to the ABC store across the street and grab a few bottles of rum and vodka. If they thought there wasn’t going to be some kind of special housewarming party, they were wrong.

Once you got back to the car, Bucky was walking out with three boxes of pizza and three boxes of wings, “I would have asked you if you needed help but I wanted to see if those muscles were just for show.”

“You got the essentials so I’ll let it pass.” He wouldn’t have made you carry anything anyways, not because he was that nice, he just knew you’d drop at least two boxes.

“Oh, the essentials? Those are getting dropped off later.”

“You’re a mess.” He knew exactly what you were referring to and left it alone at that.

When you both got back to Pietro’s, more of Leslie’s things were inside and ready to be put away, but that could wait until after lunch… and maybe a few drinks.

As the day went on, the five of you successfully got everything organized and as a reward to yourselves, you were going to have a bonfire on the beach. A part of you wanted to invite Alex, but you’d see him later. Right now was about hanging out with your friends - and catching up with Bucky.

Pietro brought out two sheets to sit on while Bucky got the fire started, Wanda and Leslie got the drinks and you grabbed some snacks.

And the weed.

“I bought enough to share!” You shook the jar, letting everyone know if they wanted it then they could take it.

Wanda laughed out, “You know Pietro will.”

“That’s because he’s the only one with good taste.” You winked to Leslie.

It immediately - and rightfully - went to her head, “Isn’t that the truth.”

When the sheets were laid out, Wanda, Leslie and Pietro sat on the bigger one with you and Bucky on the slightly smaller one.

At one point in the evening, you tuned the others out and gave your full attention to Bucky. He was filling you in on all the things he didn’t know you already knew thanks to Pietro not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. The only thing you didn’t know was why exactly he pushed you away, just that it had something to do with his ex. Why not find out now?

“So, why didn’t Natasha like me?” It was better to just come right out and ask, no point in holding back now.

Bucky knew he couldn’t tell you the whole truth, but he wasn’t going to lie either. “Nat was - is, definitely still is crazy. I think it was your third break up with Beck, you called in the middle of the night crying and she freaked out after. Said you were “disrespecting” her and a bunch of other ridiculous things.”

“If you knew they were ridiculous then why did it work?” You asked softly, not wanting the others to overhear.

He wanted to tell you that it worked because it seemed like his only escape from you, that maybe a clean break from you was what he needed to really get over you for good. But here he was, all these years later and still hopelessly in love with you.

Again, he chose to tell you half of the truth. “She told me she was pregnant, but I found out she was lying four months later. First thing I wanted to do was call you and apologize, maybe cry a bit, but I was too embarrassed that I did what I did to you..”

“Buck..”

“No, please don’t. I shouldn’t have just cut you out, you didn’t deserve that.”

There wasn’t really anything to say to that, there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to that. Knowing didn’t make you feel better like you thought it would, truth be told it made you feel worse for reasons you couldn’t even admit to yourself. Instead you hit the blunt and silently offered it to him, slightly shocked when he took it.

On the other side of the fire, the twins were wrapped up in their own conversation while Leslie was silently watching you and Bucky through the flames.

“Hey guys,” she whispered to the twins, “did Yn and Bucky ever date?”

“Ew, gross.”

“No, why?”

If a stranger were to walk past and see the way you two were looking at each other, they would probably think you are dating. “Are you both blind? Actually, that’s offensive to the blind, even they would know what I’m talking about.”

Pietro looked over to see you both laughing and other than you sitting a little close to Bucky, he didn’t see what his girlfriend was talking about, but Wanda did.

Around nine you texted Alex for a ride since everyone was too drunk to drive, Wanda chose to just sleep on her brother's couch instead. Once you were in his car he put your seatbelt on for you, “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“I just missed you.”

“Can I spend the night? I missed you too.” You said, trying to get as close to him as you could.

“Anything you want baby.” He was keeping his eyes on the road, but you didn’t miss the smile on his face.

“Then can we go to Cookout? I’d kill for a milkshake.”

“Already headed in that direction.” It wasn’t a guarantee he was going to change in the long run, but right now he was putting in effort and that’s all that mattered.

perm tags (46/50): @stuckonjbbarnes @valkyriesryde @hopesbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @imsoft-barnes @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @romaniansweetheart @thebadassbitchqueen @king-sebb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky @slaytherinthoughts @kingkassam @anti-the-glitch-bitch @poppunkdork

series tags (2/25): @rebekahdawkins @writerwrites

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #alex summers x reader #alex summers imagine #angst #fluff #mutual pining #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #bucky barnes #alex summers #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #marvel #running in the dark

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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Have a starker serial killer AU featuring dark!Tony/Peter.

Warnings: murder (obviously), vague descriptions of violence, unhealthy relationships (also obviously- don’t date serial killers), mentions of domestic violence.

Tony feels bad for Peter and, in his defense, Tony is stellar at being charming. Its amazing what he can get away with because people find him attractive and witty and that’s when he’s not trying. When he is, well. It wasn’t all that difficult to make Peter fall in love with him when he was starved for positive attention and Tony feels... well, something for him. He’s not sure he feels things exactly right, but he does know he feels. Psychologically he has no idea what that means but he also doesn't put a lot of faith into the field of study. Too easy to convince people they’ve seen what they wanted to instead of what’s actually there. The problems with trying to observe people’s behavior when you’re limited by the same things your subjects are, he supposes.

Peter, for his part, doesn’t look nearly as freaked out as Tony thought he would. He looks more like he’s in shock and Tony dislikes this stage in normal feeling, where the situation hasn’t sunk in yet. The closest he’s ever felt to that was when his parents died and even then he’s not sure if it was his mother’s loss or the drinking that did that. The downside is that he knows this is going to lead to an emotional outburst of some sort later and what that means for him will depend on how Peter loses it.

“How... you did that so easily,” he says and Tony is aware of how smart Peter is. He didn’t just kill Quentin easily, he did it with experience and Peter hardly needs to be a murder expert to know that.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” he tells Peter. He knows how much he hates stupid questions because, contrary to popular belief, there are stupid questions. He dislikes when people ask a question not because they don’t know the answer, but because they do and they don’t want to admit it out loud. Peter is aware of that too.

Peter looks down at Quentin, dead and bloody, at Tony’s feet, and then he looks to Tony’s hands. He’s still holding the knife. No need to set it down somewhere and leave more evidence for himself to clean up, and he knows Peter won’t miss the fact that he’s wearing a glove on one hand- the one holding the knife. Suggests premeditation and he wouldn’t be wrong. Tony heard them arguing and he knows Peter’s history, he’s had more than one run in with Quentin himself but Tony never told Peter about that. Quentin isn’t stupid either, he sensed pretty much immediately that whatever kind of fucked up he was Tony was about a hundred times worse, and he happened to be a hell of a lot more controlled. He’s certain the fact that he’d only tried to intimidate Tony twice, both times resulting in him being deeply unsettled, was due to him coming to the correct conclusion that if he decided to push it he wouldn’t be the one walking away.

So when he’d heard Quentin in the house he knew he purposefully chose to target Peter when he’d be alone and that didn’t sit right with him. And if he was determined enough to risk Tony finding out about it this was probably the kind of escalation that would result in Peter getting hurt or worse to he’d made a decision. It wasn’t even difficult to kill Quentin, he’d never even seen Tony coming and the knife was duller than Tony would have liked it but it cut his throat just fine. The mess will be a bitch to deal with but he’s gotten good at cleaning up his mistakes so even that won’t be an issue.

“But wh- how- why?” Peter settles on.

Tony snorts because that’s easy. “Was he not about to attack you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Its definitely not a proper reaction to his actions but he’s not about to deal with denial, Peter saw what he saw and he needs to process it and figure it out so Tony can plan how to deal with this. Peter looks back down at Quentin and at least he hasn’t screamed, not that it would matter. No one would hear him with so much land between him and his neighbors but it’d be unpleasant to deal with. “He isn’t the first person you’ve killed,” Peter states, not asks.

That’s the only reason Tony confirms it, “don’t ask for a body count, I won't give one to you.” The less he knows the better. When Tony gets caught, and it is a when, not an if, then it’d be helpful if Peter didn’t actually know much. Makes it easier for him to lie. Assuming he sticks around that long.

“You’ll kill someone in front of me but you won’t tell me how many people you’ve killed? Enough to be good at it,” Peter says, giving Quentin another horrified look. God, its like he’s watched a train wreck and he can’t look away or at least that’s how Rhodey describes looking at wounds. Tony mostly thinks its kind of gross because the blood gets all over and he doesn’t know what kind of shit that person might have. He doesn’t want to find out by getting some disease either. But he doubts that’s what Peter’s immediate thoughts are.

“Why would I give you details to more than just the crime I committed in front of you? Seems pretty stupid,” he points out, “given that you already know too much.” Peter seems to realize that late and his go wide, “if I wanted you dead, you would be. You saw how easy it was to kill him,” Tony says, guiding Peter along a little helpfully. Sure he wants a specific result here, but ultimately how this goes is up to Peter.

The fact that he relaxes is a good sign. The fact that it doesn’t last long isn’t. “Why haven’t you killed me?” he asks.

He wants to tell Peter not to ask stupid questions again but in his defense he just watched Tony kill his ex in cold blood. “I’ve never lied to you about how I feel, none of that was made up. I’m not that good of a liar,” he admits. He has a tendency to overdo it and every time he takes a step too far he realizes it too late.

Which Peter doesn’t believe if the look on his face is any indication. “You’re clearly very talented at lying,” he points out. “Because I would have never seen this coming.”

“No one sees dating a serial killer coming, Peter,” Tony says, giving him a look. “And the trick to a good lie is to avoid ever lying at all. The more you do it the more details you need to cover your ass long term and the more tedious it becomes. Tell the truth and the details don’t run the risk of changing because you’re not making things up as you go along. And there is no way I am capable of just faking an entire relationship. Believe me, I’m a terrible actor.”

Its landed him in trouble a few times but he’s smart, far smarter than most of the people around him and he’s thankful for it otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten out of as much as he has. Not, he thinks, that it’s going to come in handy now because he can’t think of a clever way to get himself out of a relationship crisis with a dead body at his feet. At least Peter isn’t in the splash zone, that would have made clean up a little messier.

Peter laughs a little, “pretty sure you’re wrong about that.”

Tony frowns, “then why wouldn’t I have just acted shocked and appalled at what I’d done and told you I was good at it because I’m a genius- I could have done the math on the angles I’d need to cut his throat at and the amount of pressure I’d need to do it that fast, you know that. Would have been an easier way out of this than all but telling you I kill people for funsies in my spare time.”

Its also a massive lie that requires a ton of acting and a huge amount of upkeep if he were to tell it, which is what he just told Peter he likes to avoid so he’s hoping he’ll put that together. That isn’t the kind of lie Tony can maintain for any length of time so he wasn’t about to try it- he’s good at not getting caught because he knows his limitations. He knows the laws he needs to in and out, he knows the science behind how to get rid of a body and all the cleanup methods he needs to know, but he’s shit at making things up. Actually, he’s pretty shit with people as a whole if he has to deal with them on a long term basis and that’s why he has so few friends. And one of them lives half way around the world from him permanently, which makes things easier.

The draw of Peter is that it never felt like work to feel things around him, he seems to naturally pull it out of Tony. That, and he genuinely likes spending time in Peter’s company and that’s rare. Even Rhodey knew something was up and they only talk on the phone a couple times a week. Peter, if he chooses to believe him, will have to see that.

Instead of giving Tony something, anything, to go on he blinks a few times rapidly before he sighs. “I need some time,” he murmurs.

Methodical might be the best way to describe his actions and by now he’s keenly aware that Peter is... curious. When he said he’d need time Tony didn’t think he’d stick around to watch the clean up even if he hasn’t moved from the living room. Probably best that he didn’t follow Tony into the garage anyway, and technically it gave him space to think.

But he’s back now, tearing up his carpet and he’s kind of pissed he’ll have to replace it. If Quentin would have just minded his own business like Tony told him to he would have a living room carpet. “You didn’t hesitate,” Peter says softly and Tony looks up. He probably looks ridiculous to Peter considering the protective gear but he’s not tracking more evidence around not wearing it.

“Didn’t need to,” Tony tells him. He knew what he was doing, he’s killed someone like that before and he also didn’t have the time to hesitate.

“I don’t think he even knew you were there,” Peter says, looking a mix of confused and haunted.

“Ideally they don’t.” Doesn’t always work out that way and Tony has learned what to do when he fucks something up.

“And you killed him for me?” Peter asks.

Its a question Tony doesn’t expect and its not one he has a ready answer to. He frowns, straightening up for a moment because he’s not totally sure. No, he is actually, its just that he didn’t realize it until now. “Yes. Yeah, I think I did,” he says, returning to his work.

Peter returns to silence, frowning now as he continues to watch Tony work. He leaves Peter to it, more concerned with the amount of blood he’s going to have to clean up.

Tony looks over the living room and decides its fit enough to leave. There shouldn’t be anything left behind and Peter seems to be surprised from his spot in the hallway. “Are you always this thorough?”

“I’d have been caught by now if I wasn’t,” Tony says. Peter wanders in, casting a suspicious look around but there’s no evidence of a murder here. Well, there is, but finding it would be a pain in the ass now and the cops would need to know exactly what they’re looking for. He’s learned murder scenes are a little like technology- its not often you can cover your ass totally and completely, but you can make it difficult for people to find what they’re looking for.

“Will you tell me how long you’ve been doing this?” Peter asks. He looks more comfortable now and Tony is unsure what to make of that, if anything. He knows people react in weird and extremely varied ways.

“Since I was 17,” he says. Peter seems surprised by that and Tony figures he should be. That didn’t feel young to him then, but it does now. It took him some time to do it again though, not that Peter knows that. He’s pretty sure it was the death of his parents that made him that ballsy to begin with.

He nods though, taking another step closer. “I keep ending up with people like you,” he says and Tony makes a noise of offense.

“I had nothing in common with that filth,” he says, defensive.

Peter frowns, “you kill people but you’re judging Quent?”

Tony rolls his eyes, “there are people in this world that deserve to die, no one deserves domestic violence.” That isn’t even close to the same, Peter has to realize that. Hell, even the state understands that murder is necessary- why else have a death penalty? Or soldiers ready to kill for you, at that. There aren’t reasons why hitting your spouse is fine, there are no exceptions to the rule.

“This is a moral thing?” Peter asks, head tilted to the side.

“Of course it is. I might be reprehensible but I’m not like that.” He’s not like his father. Sure, he and Howard are both monsters of some kind but they aren’t the same breed and Tony has learned to take pride in that.

“Maybe you are bad at lying,” Peter murmurs, frowning as he looks at him.

“Which I told you,” Tony points out.

Peter sighs. “Fine, I keep ending up with people who are... damaged. Beyond repair kind of damaged and I thought maybe it was something about me. Then I spent a lot of time denying it but I think I was right,” he says, shaking his head.

Tony tilts his head to the side, “yeah, how so? Because you don’t seem damaged beyond repair to me.” If anything he feels so untouched by the world, so bright and optimistic. Funny, too. In his experience that’s not how damaged acts.

“Not like that. I mean I... guess I have a dark side too,” he says and oh, oh. Tony recognizes that look, he’s seen it in the mirror a million times and worked hard on learning to hide it. And, he realizes, its not the first time he’s seen it either. Maybe that’s why he’d been so drawn to Peter, why things felt so easy with him. He wouldn’t have to act so much around someone like himself.

He smiles a little, “can’t say I saw that coming.”

Peter grins too, “I know. You really are a shitty lair,” he says as he steps into Tony’s arms. “Teach me how to kill like that?”

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #serial killer au #starker serial killers #alternate universe

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ellewritesathing · 3 years

Text

Cross My Heart II

Summary: No one wants to go to a wedding by themselves, especially when it’s the wedding of someone you haven’t seen in nearly four years. Going with Caliban was definitely a bad decision, but it was still better than going alone.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2

Word-count: 1.5k

A/N: woah consistent uploads? who is she??

Photo by Erol Ahmed on Unsplash

Caliban was late. He was always late, but this time it was particularly annoying.

Five minutes passed before you killed the engine. Another five as the engine turned to ice. Another as you searched for courage in front of their apartment door. Fresh out of any excuses to leave without him, you ransacked your keys to find their spare and stepped into the apartment.

Most of the boxes were gone or had been moved to the side, so it was easy to scan the apartment and not find a sign of life other than Adam pouring some Fruit Loops into a bowl. “He’s in his room,” he said, throwing an amused look your way as he reached for the milk.

“Any reason why he’s in his room and not waiting downstairs for me?”

“Because I thought this would be funnier.”

After giving Adam a fake laugh and flipping him off, you marched towards Caliban’s room. The familiar stolen Elm Street sign faithfully marked the entrance, and you paused with your hand above the doorknob. You were at a fork in the road: you could either turn around now and go back to Greendale alone, or you could open the door and deal with the nightmare on Elm Street. The doorknob gave off a static shock when you touched it, which should have been your first sign that this was a bad decision.

Caliban was sprawled out under the covers, hair forming a jumbled halo around his head. You’d never seen him more at peace than when he was asleep; it was the only time he didn’t have something to prove. The only time he looked happy.

His happiness dissolved the second you ripped open the curtains and sunshine washed over the room. Caliban groaned and rolled over to his side, burying his head in his pillow to block out the light. His voice was muffled between the tiredness and the pillow, and you strolled over to pull away the blankets as he cursed your infernal need to leave so early.

Lifting a hand to screen the sun from his eyes, he asked, “If we’re stuck there for two weeks, do we really have to be there before the bloody wedding party?”

“You said you’d be ready by nine.”

“You said I’d be ready by nine.”

Taking a deep, trying breath, you looked up at the ceiling. The glow in the dark constellation of Corvus and the accompanying antennae galaxies were a hazy pale green. Slowly, you walked closer to the top of his bed and crouched down. You combed some of Caliban’s hair back before holding his face in both of your hands. “If you don’t get out of this bed,” you said quietly, counting the golden flecks in his eyes, “I will set it on fire with you in it.”

Caliban’s mouth turned up in a smile, and your heart stopped. It was the same smile from the morning after the Green Day debacle; easy, unaffected, and worst of all, vulnerable. It was a real smile.

“Well, when you put it like that…” He didn’t finish the rest of his sentence, but he gave you another easy smile as you pulled away and took a few steps to look out the window. The window was safer. A second passed before Caliban pulled himself out of bed and lumbered towards the bathroom to get ready, pausing to stretch in the doorway.

You called his name, and he pretended not to listen, so you threw a pillow at his back. “Hey, Discount Heath Ledger, where’s your bag?”

Caliban shrugged and threw another smile your way - still easy, but now fully ready to induce catastrophe. “Haven’t packed one yet.” Turning back to the hallway, he added, “They’re in the closet - feel free.”

---

After possibly the longest shower in recorded history, Caliban pulled on some clothes and met you in the kitchen. You threw a packed bag at him, handed him a travel mug of coffee, and dragged him out the door while yelling goodbye to Adam. In all these years, Caliban had never seen you so well and truly flustered. It was amusing.

“What are you doing?” you asked, coming to a stop on the pavement. Before Caliban had the chance to answer, you stomped closer and pushed him away from your car. Over the sounds of his arguing, you said, “There is no way you’re driving my car.”

Caliban tilted his head to the side and adjusted his bag. “I thought you wanted to get there by lunchtime.”

“I want to get there alive.” You unlocked the door and pointed your keys at him. “You drive like a bat out of hell.”

“And you-” Caliban opened the backseat door and tossed his bag inside “-drive like a fifteen-year-old with nothing more to their name than a learner’s license.”

Slamming the door without a word, you left Caliban standing in the street with a ridiculous grin on his face. He strolled over to the passenger’s side and collapsed into a seat. Your music blared through the speakers as Caliban reached out for his travel mug.

Caliban spat out the sad excuse for a coffee almost as soon as it touched his tongue. “Mother Mary, how much sugar is in this?”

“Seven,” you answered, throwing a grin at him over your shoulder. “That’s for making us late.”

Other than the truly blasphemous cup of coffee, the drive went fairly well for the first hour or two. Similar tastes in music drowned out any attempts at conversations that would ultimately have landed Caliban stranded on the interstate, the battle for temperature control had been settled early on, and Adam stopped sending texts to check-in after it was clear that no one had been murdered.

But everything went to shit after the four-car pile-up.

As it turned out, ‘making us late’ had been the understatement of the year; the two of you would be lucky if you made it there before sun-up. The highway was backed up for miles. Arguments were increasing as Caliban kept playing underground music and you wanted to listen to more derivative crap, as the temperature climbed to blood boiling levels, and as hunger and nicotine cravings clawed at his stomach. Instead of arguing for another half an hour in nearly stand-still traffic, Caliban turned the music down, pointed out a rest-stop ahead, and told you to pull over.

He didn’t think you’d listen (you had a particularly frustrating habit of digging your heels in no matter what he suggested, even if you secretly agreed with him), but soon enough you were in the turning lane and taking the exit. Bedraggled families were picnicking in the shade when you pulled over and told Caliban to get something to eat from the gas station.

“So-” Caliban’s lighter sparked and he lifted it to his cigarette. “Tell me about the in-laws.”

You rolled your eyes and had another bite of your snowcone. “First of all, they’re not your in-laws.” Over his snippy comment, you added, “I haven’t really kept in touch with anyone since leaving, so I don’t really know what to tell you.”

Caliban nodded and took a drag. Flicking the ash with his thumb, he asked, “Why don’t we start with the - what did Adam call them - ‘podunk ex’ of yours?”

You groaned and hit your head on the windshield, tilting your head up to the sky. You stayed still, sprawled out on the hood like that, for a few seconds before saying anything. “I dated Nick in high school, okay? But it ended really badly and now he’s dating one of my friends. And they’re both gonna be at the wedding.”

“Sounds like you had shitty friends, darling.” Caliban’s eye caught on a family of soccer players, but his attention snapped back to you when you moved into a cross-legged position to face him.

“No, Sabrina wasn’t a bad friend. She was seventeen.” Crushing the cardboard cone in your hand, you sighed. “She didn’t know any better.”

Caliban shrugged and filled his lungs with another burst of smoke rather than subjecting himself to the intricacies of teenage politics. Once he’d been debriefed about the rest of the wedding party, he flicked the cigarette into the trash and leaned on the hood next to you, arm brushing your leg as he did.

This was probably the longest you’d gone without arguing since meeting one another. Silence set in as neither one of you wanted to break whatever spell had come over you. Instead, Caliban tilted his head up and the two of you watched the clouds, pointing out your favorites as they grazed the sky.

With an unexpected sigh, you slid off the hood and tossed the keys at Caliban. “Drive.”

Caliban grinned as he twirled the keys around his index finger. “As you wish.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes and told him not to make you regret it.

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @marrypuffsstuff @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @strawberriesandknives @xealia @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24 @sophia-of-sass-gard @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

#cross my heart #Caliban #chilling adventures of sabrina

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28ivana28 · 4 years

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Frat boy Harry Styles one shot

Word count: 6003

Summary: Harry the star football player always gets on y/n’s nerves but this night its quite different when they find them selves alone at a party consumed with alcohol and lust.

Let me know what you think. I really enjoyed writing this so let me know if you would like a part 2.

WHY DONT YOU?

Another college party, yes. But first, a game of football. This is the typical routine for all us college kids, the intense and exciting (for some) football game, then the chaotic and wild after parties, almost always hosted at the frat houses. You used to love these nights and look forward to the thrilling games until you broke up with your boyfriend, one of the team players, one of the best players as well. Now that you’ve broken up with your ex boyfriend Gabriel you dread the weekly games, especially since your best friends adored the footy boys. Some of them were fine and their bodies were sure as hell fit but seeing Gabriel every weekend was a drainer.

Being in a sorority yourself, you do love to party, who doesn’t? But tonight you were in no mood for this weekends events. Having a full week of exams and a pestering ex has done you enough. Although you should want to let off some steam and get hammered, you truly just want to sleep. But of course, your two best friends Delilah and Lola have bugged you enough to finally force you to give in.

So here you are, sitting in the stands, surrounded by practically the whole mass of the college students, listening to screams, yells, chants, conversations and the stupid pom poms of the cheerleaders. Sure you could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself, but you’re not... so you wont.

“Come on y/n, stop being a Debby downer” Lola speaks, interrupting your thoughts. You can’t even be bothered moving your mouth to speak or make any noice, so you give her a fake smile and shake your hands in pure and utter fake excitement about the goal the hunk of a football player just scored, that is, Harry Styles. Harry is a different species, carved by the Greek Gods themselves, piercing emerald green eyes, luscious curly locks that frame his face like no other, perfectly toned and built body that is not too muscley nor too skinny, the perfect smile as well as smirk, the tattoos that scatter his body just add the tinge of danger to his persona and of course, he is British.

Although he is a spunk and arguably the best player on the team. His personality is a whole different story. Sure the kids done nothing wrong to you, but oh my gosh he knows how to annoy you. Ever since day dot Harry has had this thing with you where he likes to annoy you till you snap, and to be fair, you don’t take long to snap. It was never mean or harmful, always innocent banter. He had always been funny, goofy, cheeky and oh so sexy, but to you ... you just cannot stand him.

On the other hand, your beloved friends and sorority sisters as well as every other girl in the whole of the College seems to froff him. And that is not overexaggerating. Harry is known to be a devil in the sheets and he sure has proven himself through many of the girls, especially the cheerleaders. Sure Harry likes to annoy you, but you never understood why, why you? And all the other girls never understood why you either. He didn’t seem to take an interest in pestering the rest of the female population here, he seemed to have singled out you. Oh and it was even worse when you were dating Gabriel, probably worse for Gabriel as he could never stand Harry. Not out of annoyance but more out of jealousy. Gabriel hates to admit that Harry is a better football player as well as the fact that Harry would pester his own girlfriend... and Gabriel could never do anything about it, well because, Harry is Harry... and Harry gets away with everything. Don’t ask why, because no one knows.

The loud cheers and piercing buzzer noise alerts you from your thought and you realise the games over and your team won, not by a lot but that only means the party will hit harder because it was such an intense game, that you wouldn’t really know about since you payed no attention to it.

Standing from your seat and brushing your jeans, you pick up your bag and get ready to scurry through the crowd to go home and get ready for the party you’re still dreading. Wanting to leave as quickly as you can to avoid Gabriel at all costs, you’re stopped in your tracks by, oh what a surprise.. Harry.

“Hello girls” Harry smiles to us girls with his thick accent and muffles of “congrats on the game” and “Hi Harry” are spoken to him which he totally ignores.

“Y/n, what a lovely surprise” Harry smirks leaning his arm on the wall besides you, blocking you from walking knowing that it is not a surprise that you are here since everyone is. Lola nudges you with an innocent grin on her face, but you’re pretty sure her thoughts are not innocent.

You scoff playfully but still quite agitated as you do want to leave asap. “Hi Harry, lovely to see you to” you give him a sarcastic smile along with a head tilt and then continue to walk through his blocking presence. “Are you coming to the party tonight love?” He questions you like he did every game. You don’t even know why he asks, to annoy you at the parties as well? yes, thats it. You stick your finger up as you keep walking forward, you can’t see him but you hear a chuckle. It’s like he gets off to you getting agitated.

This was your weekly routine, he’d ask you if you were going to attend the party, and you’d flip him off. Some consider it flirting in a weird way, others banter, you just see it as Harry Styles. “She sure is coming” Delilah practically yells to Harry as we continue walking.

The girls think Harry and you are bound to fall in love, and that through the hard time he gives you and the emotionless responses you give back, that you are actually quite fond of each other. Ridiculous you think to yourself. “Mmm she always does” he yells back and without even turning around, you know his dazzling smile is spread far across his face, some sort of accomplishment he thinks.

It’s now quite some time since the game and the girls and you are on your way to the Kappa house, the home of your beloved ex and majority of the football boys. Although all of them are cocky bastards, you must admit they do throw a mean party.

You all walked from your sorority to theirs as the distance is quite short and you were all planning on getting quite smashed, especially you. May as well right? You brush off your tight strapless body con black dress that you changed into which hugs your body pretty damn nicely before entering the gates of the house. You can hear the bass and music erupting the house. Already people are scattered on the lawn out front and red party cups spilling out of the house. The party is already started you gathered.

Entering the house, a few cheers and yells from the boys abrupt your ears as obviously a bunch of sorority girls walked through, boys being boys. You greet a few people, not really wanting to spend too much time talking, more so drinking. You speak to a few players who you genuinely like and congratulate them on their win tonight. You’ve always been one to get a long with boys especially the football boys (Gabriel especially wasn’t fond when majority of the boys preferred you over him), and you probably got a long with boys better then girls but you are lucky to have Delilah and Lola your two main girls that perfectly understand who you are and your moody personality. Speaking of them two, they both have already disappeared, probably getting it on with the footy boys.

You walk towards the kitchen to pour yourself a drink as you feel a large hand tap your shoulder, you turn around to be greeted with your favourite player, one that you adore like a brother. “Niall!” you hug him almost instantly since he is always one to make you smile, even on the worst of days possible.

“Y/n, how are you cutie, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever you nerd” he laughs helping you mix your drink as you honestly had no idea what you were making. “Oh relax” you laugh “I was only studying for a week, some people need to work for their grades, daddy can’t buy us everything” you joke, since Niall’s dad practically owns the college.

Niall gives you a bitter laugh “Ha ha ha, you think you’re so funny don’t you doll” he teases and you laugh until you realise what he’s doing and he’s pouring way too much vodka into your cup. “Oh my god Niall! Stop!”, he laughs “thats what you get smart arse, now cmon drink up and get partying, you definitely need it.” “whats that supposed to mean?” you pretend to get offended sipping your drink and making a face of disgust as the drink is so strong.

Niall laughs and you feel a warm hand slide against your lower back and your head instantly turns to the right. Harry Styles. He’s looking fucking hot tonight though, you must give it to him. Standing there all sly in his tight black skinny jeans and plain white tee, something so simple but looks so damn good.

He looks down at you smirking “You’re going to kill her Nialler with all that vodka” Harry states but your quick to refuse “excuse me but I can handle my liquor, thank you very much ” you exclaim.

Niall laughs at your stern response. “Oh really” Harry raises his eyebrow looking at you who is beaming with confidence.

You nod in response, “Well then sweetheart, go on, skull it if you can handle your liquor so well” Harry pushes. Your eyes go wide and Niall throws his head back into laughter. That damn Irish kid. “She doesn’t have enough pride to skull that filthy drink” Niall laughs and you give him a stern look. You don’t want to back down because it is Harry who has challenged you, but god dammit this drink is strong.

You look back to Harry who’s grinning, almost positive that you wont accept his ridiculous request. You bring the brim of the cup to your lips. Oh why are you doing this you think, and you begin to skull.

You scrunch your eyes at the strong distaste of the vodka and raspberry soda, majority just vodka. You hear a few cheers around you as you tilt your head back taking in all of the liquid. You throw the cup and look at Harry who’s mouth open in shock but he quickly covers his expression with his classic smirk and lust in his piercing emerald green eyes. And Niall’s standing there as well, face in full shock of what you just did.

“I cant believe it y/n, that was a whole lotta of vodka” Niall says still in shock then pats your back slowly turning around to talk to someone who caught his attention, leaving you with Harry.

“Good job pretty, I really didn’t expect that” he grins leaning his arm down on the kitchen table. You laugh walking towards the island bench to get yourself another red cup.

“Ay calm down there pretty” Harry protest trying to take the cup down from you. You giggle in response, already feeling the alcohol going straight to your head, god you should’ve eaten before the party you mentally curse to yourself.

“mm’fine Harry, I told you I can handle my liquor” you protest already starting to slur your words the tiniest bit, one of your worst habits of drunk y/n.

“mm’alright love, if you insist” he smirks. You continue pouring another drink with probably too much vodka than you’d normally put and Harry stands there in his leaning stance, watching. Admiring you? teasing you? mocking you? you don’t know and to be honest you don’t care either, you’ve established that you just want to let loose tonight.

To your surprise you realise that Harry hasn’t been pestering you like he normally does which causes you to look up to see what he is actually doing. As you look up you catch his gaze staring into your actions with a small smirk planted on his lips whilst he sits on the kitchen counter.

“Whatcha lookin at?” you act sassy with a hand on your hip, Harry laughs at your actions which he considers adorable but could never say that out loud. “Witnessing you getting absolutely piss drunk, love” he smiles and you watch his eyes as they look like innocent puppy eyes, drawing you in. What the fuck are you thinking... this is Harry you’re talking about, is the vodka really hitting you that hard already?

You laugh an unimpressed laugh, “well, since I am getting so piss drunk” you state grabbing another red cup to make another concoction of alcohol, for Harry this time, “you have to drink too” you suggest looking up to him raising an eyebrow.

Harry raises his eyebrows which follows with his smirk growing wider, “are you trynna get m’drunk?” Harry laughs obviously teasing you.

“I guess I am” you state grinning, “If I’m gonna get piss drunk, I need the most famous party boy to teach me how it’s done” you grin handing Harry his drink, amused at the drink you’ve mixed containing far more rum than coke.

Harry sniffs the cup and nose and eyes scrunch in distaste whilst you giggle at this reaction “Your trynna poison me love!” Harry exaggerates.

“mm’not” you protest as you grab your cup “skull with me” you hype him up and sit up on the kitchen counter with him and usher him with your hands pushing the drink towards his mouth. He laughs at your adorable slightly intoxicated attempt to get him to skull.

In the count of 3 you’re both skulling the liquids and scrunching your faces in disgust, not using any chasers though because both of you refuse to look like a ‘bitch’ in front of each other, merely because of the shit you will give each other.

You both laugh and you jump off the island bench grabbing his arm and dragging him into the living room where the majority of the students be, dancing, grinding, making out and all the rest.

The DJ is set up on a platform you’re assuming and you drag Harry into the centre of the living room already starting to move your hips to the loud music the DJ’s mixing. Harry laughs at your drunken state that has escalated quite quickly from the beginning of the night. He’s quite shocked to be honest, this is is probably the nicest you’ve ever been to him, and he doesn’t really know how to act.

“Cmon Harry, dance!” you shout to him over the music. You throw your head down, raise your arms and move your hips in perfect timing to the music booming against everyones ears. Harry has never seen this care free and loose side of you, and to be honest. He loves it.

He laughs at your attempts to get him to dance until someone spins you around so that you are not facing Harry anymore, but your backside is.

Harry looks to who must’ve spun you and notices it was Gabriel, your ex. You didn’t realise who it was because of the dim lights and your blurry vision but you’re loving this attention, so you carry on dancing.

Gabriel places his hands on your hips to pull you in closer to him to fill the unnecessary space between you two, but before he could even move you an inch closer to him you feel your body being pulled in the opposite direction.

He doesn’t know why, but Harry felt a pang of jealousy seeing you for not even a minute dancing with someone else. He knows the pain and trouble Gabriel caused you. To be honest Harry never thought Gab deserved you from the beginning, definitely punching above his weight. He thought Gab was even more of an idiot to have cheated on you and he would never say it but so many times when Harry saw you hurt, just wanted to give you a hug.

So Harry followed his first thought and pulled you back to him, your backside pressed evidently on his front. Harrys eyes were dark and pierced straight into Gabs.

“The fuck Harry” Gabriel spits, eyes turning darker and confidence growing as he’s quite drunk himself. Confidence is not something present in Gab normally when around Harry, but tonight was obviously a different story.

Your eyes shot up immediately recognising Gabs voice and your eyes widen realising who you were just dancing with.

“Oh my god” you speak just above a whisper.

“What?” Harry tests Gab, in shock of the way Gabriel had spoken to Harry, which in a matter of fact was not in a way anybody spoke to Harry. Another reason why Harry was so fond of you, you were ballsy and a challenge, Harry loved the fierceness and attitude you had, you weren’t a bitch with no character, you were feisty with one hell of a personality that Harry always wanted to get to know. Although he was also never admit that. Geez what would Harry admit.

“You heard me. Why the fuck you pulling my girl away from me” Gabriel continues, idiot you think to yourself. You go to protest as you would normally, always standing up for yourself, no one talks down to you and you make sure of that. Before you can protest though, Harry stands in front of you getting a little bit too close to Gabriel, and you hate to admit that it is turning you on. God you hope it’s just the alcohol doing this.

“Last time I checked buddy, she’s not your girl” Harry speaks slowly continuing to get up in Gabs face as you watch from behind. “And mm’pretty sure she wants nothing to do with you” Harry finishes.

“The fuck would you know about what she wants” Gab spits back to Harry.

Harry raises his eyebrows, “lets ask her then” he says through gritted teeth. “Love, do you want this goose here” he says looking back at you, his eyes dark and dim. You look between Harry and Gab who is also staring at you with dark eyes, not as sexy as Harrys though. He’s probably confused as fuck wondering when you and Harry got so close, even though you guys haven’t.

To be honest, you never liked people talking for you or thinking they have more power than you. And if it had been any other day you would have probably been infuriated at Harrys actions and him ‘taking charge’ but for some reason you were so damn turned on. It was unlike you to get nervous especially from Harry, but god dammit you couldn’t even get the words out of your mouth.

You shake your head no with eyes staring up at Harry like a puppy dog waiting for a treat. Why were you so goddamn nervous.

Harry takes your shaking no as his answer and looks back to Gabriel who looks confused, pissed off, sad and god knows what else. Fuck him though, he’s the one that cheated on you. “You got your answer buddy, now sod off” Harry states firmly before turning around grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the hallway.

He seems pissed off, actually you know his pissed off. His muscles are all tense and he’s walking at a fast pace. to be honest you don’t know why he’s gotten so worked up over this situation.

“Harry relax” You speak slowly trying to focus on real life and sober up a little bit, even though it’s not working.

He turns to face you as you guys stop in an empty hallway. Although it’s empty, it’s still being consumed by the sound of the bass erupting the house. His eyes shot at you and the darkness seems to slowly fade as his eyes soften seeing that you are not at all worked up or slightly angry by Gabriels presence, its just a presence you’ve learned to ignore.

“Mm’sorry, i don’t know what got into me” Harry speaks eyes darting towards the floor, he seems embarrassed but his confidence is still there as his eyes regain attention with yours and he stares into them deeply. His eyes turn from soft back to dark, lustful and a forest green.

You give him a half smile still not being able to control your own self in the state you’re in.

“You know he’s a dick ye?” Harry asks. “Yeah” you respond sort of already over this conversation of Gab even though it has just started.

“You’re not planning on going back to him are you? because I’ve heard he’s been trying to get back with you. I’m not like stalking you uhh like the boys have been talking and ...” Harry rambles. “I know Harry, and I’m not getting back with him” you cut him off.

“Good.” Harry’s grin resurfaces, why did you sort of miss it though is that you’re asking yourself. “You were too pretty for him anyways” He smirks pulling you closer with his hand on your lower back that you never realised was even there.

This feeling of intense lust and sexual tension you’ve been feeling throughout the whole night from Harry, a feeling you feel like you have never felt before finally pushed you to do it. You kissed him. You plant your lips on his and first it’s like a shock, a shock of electricity. Harry being unsure of what had just happened and you slightly panicking at your actions. After a second you both release all your nervousness and the kiss deepens. Harry presses his tongue against your mouth signalling for entry and you allow it. He deepens the kiss and runs his fingers up your back against your spine all the way through to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your long hair. His other hand remains on your lower back, his hand lingers there wondering whether or not it should go lower. As your tongues press against each other and the pace of your heavy making out increases, your hands raise to the top of his chest for support as he pushes you up against the wall in the empty hallway. Theres a hitch in your breath as your back abruptly reaches the wall, what seems like such a harsh action came out so soft and gentle by Harry. Your hand continues to follow through the back of his hair through his locks that are, you can now confirm, as soft as they look.

Harry breaks his heart shapes lips from yours and your eyes pierce into each other. He grabs your hand without any words and leads you up the staircase to the hallway of frat boy rooms.

Harry guides you to the end of the hall where the largest room is, of course it’s his you think, but you already knew that since Gabriels room was 3 doors down.

He opens his room which was different to what you expected. From what you could see in the dim lights, the room was kept tidy and was full of dark grey and black shades, quite minimal and simplistic. He had a large king size bed in the middle of his room with a desk placed along the wall. He also had a tv hanging on the wall as well as other unnecessary stuff but what you did notice was a guitar. guitar you thought, didn’t expect that one.

You’re taken out of your thoughts as Harry turns back to face you and you look up at him with puppy eyes again, why are you doing this omg you think to yourself. Since when have you ever looked innocent or pleading to someone.

“Don’t look at me like that pet” Harry groans without breaking eye contact.

“Why?” You speak in a voice a bit louder than a whisper. You are definitely not coming across as strong and independent as you’d like to, and you heavily blame the alcohol for it... okay and maybe a bit of Harry. You got to admit he’s making you feel nervous. And you never feel nervous.

“Because it makes it hard for me not to fuck you” Harry says looking straight at you whilst his eye turn deeper and even more lustful.

“Then why don’t you?” this time you speak with more confidence, and in quite an alluring tone Harry picks up on.

This was enough said for Harry’s eyes to roll to the back of his head and a groan to escape his lips. Almost immediately he pushes you up against his bedroom door connecting his lips to yours and his hand gliding against your thigh slowly reaching his hand to massage over your centre.

You lift your legs to wrap them around his back, him holding you up against the door as you frantically remove his t shirt and your kiss deepens, both your tongues tasting each other.

You deepen the kiss and lightly bite his lower lip causing a soft moan to escape from Harrys mouth, vibrating your own. You immediately feel shivers through your body and your core throbbing at the man right in front of you.

Harry continues to rub you through your panties and the warmth of your body grows at his touch on you. His mouth moves from yours to your neck planting kisses from your jaw all the way down to your collarbone.

Harry takes this opportunity of you wrapped around him to carry you to his bed where he lays you down lifting your dress slightly and using his teeth to pull down your panties as he goes on his knees.

Harry begins to work between your legs, delicately working around your throbbing core as he glances every so quickly smirking at your state of pleasure. Confident with his actions, Harry tongue moves quicker against your tongue circling your sensitive spot causing sensational shivers running through your body.

“I forgot to mention that you look stunning tonight y/n” Harry speaks head between your legs. You push his head back down signalling him to shut up, hands ruffled in his locks wanting him to continue. now is not the time for compliments you thought to yourself just as Harry smiles against you.

Legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thighs, Harry continues to work wonders on you and just as you can almost feel the satisfaction he stops.

You groan in frustration and Harry smirks, his ego expanding with every minute of this encounter.

“Baby you taste so good” he speaks amused. You roll your eyes and unbuckle his pants signalling for him to shut up, again. He lightly chuckles as he helps you take off his jeans and he then slowly takes your tight dress off your body. Harry stares at you for what feels like a long minute as he takes in your appearance and his eyes glisten in lust. Harry puts his hand on the back of your neck and pushes you to him to kiss you, rough but so soft at the same time. You break the kiss and lay back as he aligns himself with your throbbing core. You never thought you’d say this, but fuck, you want Harry.

Harry slowly begins to push into your wet folds ever so softly and his gaze keeps redirecting itself to you checking if you are okay, and fuck you’re more than okay. Harry this time with the approval of your undeniable pleasurable state, he thrusts into you a little bit faster.

You moan at the state of ecstasy he’s providing you as your head falls back on the bed and you shut your eyes in pure satisfaction.

Harry takes this opportunity to lean down placing his hands on either side of you, hovering over you. Harry places warm sloppy kisses along your chest and then uses one of his hands to cup your breast into his hands squeezing it ever so lightly. Harry continues to thrust into you, “mm’fuck baby you feel so good” he moans in a raspy voice.

You moan in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Within a few more pumps into you, you both reach your climax and Harry falls beside you both of you breathing in tune. You both stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do until you stand up and look for your clothes.

You had just realised, you fucked Harry Styles.

The star football player, and star player of girls. The boy who pesters you everyday. You just had sex with him. And what was worse was, you don’t regret it. He was undeniably better than Gab and what shocked you is that you still were craving him.

You redress yourself and neaten up your hair thats gone wild from Harry’s hands and your sweat.

Harry sits up with barely energy and watches you.

“I really enjoyed that pet” Harry smirks.

You look up to see him leaning on his elbow laying on his bed. “mm’me too” you mumble as you search for your phone.

15 missed calls and 7 text messages. All from Lola, Delilah and Gabriel. Why the fuck was Gab calling you. Fuck. How long had it have been since you and Harry started drinking in the kitchen?

You look up to see Harry sliding his jeans on and buckling his belt.

“I hope you know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop pestering you love” Harry says through a cheeky grin and you can’t help but let out a breathy laugh at his words. “I know” you smile back.

You finally have all your things gathered and you look up at Harry, sort of unsure of what to do next. Harrys stares at you with his signature smirk as he watches you think of something to say.

“Well uhh, thanks I guess umm see you around Harry” you say with a short smile at the end, very unsure of what had just happened this whole night to be honest.

“See you around pet” He says lowly returning the smile but it’s more of a smirk. The smirk that will be the death of you.

You take that as a good bye and open the door handle and walking through the hallway and down the stairs as you’re stopped by Niall.

“Y/n, everyones been looking for ya” Niall says with a confused look as to why I’d be upstairs where the boys rooms are.

“Everyone?” You ask confused. “Yeah um not everyone just Delilah, Lola and Gab” He says still confused and looking for any evidence on you that you had just... you know.. “Gab said to call him as soon as possible, not sure why though” Niall finishes.

“I don’t want anything to do with -” you’re cut off by Gabriel presence as he bombards your conversation with Niall, but his not alone his in the presence of Lola who has a mixture of anger and now shock on her face.

Gabriel looks furious and it is evident that Lola was trying to prevent him from seeing you, obviously trying to protect you from your psycho ex boyfriend.

“Y/n, where have you been?” Gab asks with a strong amount of anger and confusion printed on his face. Looking past his shoulder Lola looks scared as she doesn’t want a problem to arise.

“She doesn’t have to tell you anything” Lola interrupts and Gab sends her an unimpressed look causing Lola to shudder a little bit.

And with perfect timing, Mr Styles himself walks on down the stairs confirming everyones thoughts of where you had been. Niall’s face was in shock and so was Lolas, but Gabs face turned red from his rage.

“Whats the problem here?” Harry asks everyone, slightly confused from the crowd gathering at the bottom of the staircase.

You look up at Harry unsure of what to say, you look scared and so does Lola as you both look to Gabriel who looks like he could just about kill Harry. Harry finally seems to catch on as his eyes widen slightly before covering his expression with a stern look to Gab who is about ready to rip Harrys through out.

“Y/n... please do not tell me you and Harry” Gab begin but doesn’t know how to finish his sentence, not wanting to say what he is thinking out loud. Everyones eyes dart between you and Harry and both of you are unsure. Harry does not want to be rude and boast about you, he doesn’t see you like any other girl, but he also doesn’t want to look embarrassed about having you, because he is definitely not. Harry looks to you and you look to him.

Delilah out of no where joins the group frantically. “Y/N, Lola, we have to go now”

Everyone turns to Delilah, being completely oblivious to the situation Delilah shoots the faces a glare “What?” she asks pissed off. No one says anything so she grabs Lola and you and drags you out of the frat house.

“What the fuck was that about” Delilah asks Lola and you once arriving on the footpath being able to soundly hear each other as the thumping house noise diminishes.

“Ask y/n” Lola shrugs, very curious to see what your answer will be.

Delilah turns to face you. “I slept with Harry” you spat out, as quickly as you could. Ripping off the bandaid.

Both girls stop in their tracks. Mainly Delilah as Lola had seen it coming. “You what?” Delilah speaks, jaw wide and eyes open.

Both girls squeal. A reaction you expected but not really since Delilah seemed quite pissed off. They embraced you in a hug, a very weird thing they loved to when one of you girls would sleep with someone. You had only slept with 3 people now, you were never one for one night stands but Delilah and Lola were, especially Delilah which you didn’t mind but their way of expressing it was sorta weird but you got used to it.

“Well fuck, so thats why Gab looked like he was gonna explode” Delilah snickered.

“We saw this happening but just never expected it to like actually happen” Lola says.

You shrug “I don’t know how it even happened, but it was amazing” You gush.

The girls eyes open wide and stare at you as if you are a completely different person. “y/n with emotions?, feeling? who even are you” They gasp dramatically and you give them a sarcastic smile.

You all continue to walk home as Delilah recites her night and so does Lola. Both girls filling you in on all the boys who tried to swoop them and you laugh at their ridiculous ways of describing everything.

Once you three reach home you all go your seperate ways and get ready for bed and knock out completely. You quickly take your makeup off and throw your dress to the floor and swap for some pyjamas and you lay down in bed putting your phone to charge.

You notice you have a new notification from an unknown number. Confused as to who it is you check your phone.

Unknown:

Goodnight pet thanks for tonight, see you in class ;) xx

Smiling to yourself as you set your phone down, you knew exactly who it was.

Part 2

🐰 masterlist

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