#oh my god megan!!! the kitchen feeling we were talking about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Obsessed with your imagines you so when they have 3 kids and they’re all older! What about one where Harry has to have a sex talk with his kids OR y/n and Harry come home to find their kids throwing a party? I think both could be super funny

this has me excited cause i love the idea of them throwing a party when y/n and harry are at date night!! (does contain smut)

oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16

“We’re so fucking screwed.”

“Belle, for the millionth time, chill the fuck out.”

But how the fuck was anyone supposed to be chill when there was a full-on house party, close to being a rave, occurring in their house? A house that was their mum’s life work. A house party that their parents new nothing about. A night where absolutely anything and everything could go wrong.

The three siblings stood at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the door, looking around at the scenes occurring between each room. There were girls whispering to each other on the sofas, there was a group of guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and there was a large group of people hanging around by the pool and some even taking a dip. What had meant to be a low-key party had managed to turn into the whole neighbourhood plus the next town over. It was completely overboard.

“Who’s idea was this again?” Belle asked, clearly not understanding the full reasoning behind a full fledged party in their house.

“All of ours.” Oli responded, when in reality it was really just his, and a bit of Felix, idea.

“Nope. I’m not getting grounded because you two dickheads wanted to be rebels.” Belle put her hands up as if to stop this whole situation. She did not want to be a part of this and yet had somehow got screwed up with it all.

“So what are you going to do?” Felix asked.

“Anywhere where this doesn’t have my name stamped all over it.” Belle gestured around her, all of them groaning when they heard something smash from a nearby room. They were actually going to be locked up forever after this.

“Belle, mum and dad are out for the night. Dad said he booked a hotel for them to stay over at, so they won’t even be back until tomorrow morning.” Oli explained, trying to calm down his very nervous sister.

“Yeah, plus if you’re so insistent on leaving why did you get so dressed up?” Felix did have a point. Belle had gone through the effort tonight to be looking as best she could. She was sporting a little black dress with black fishnet tights and her trusty Doc Martens. It was a very colourful outfit, as she would explain. Belle had even gone to the effort of adding glue-on gems to her makeup. Whereas her brothers were just wearing sweaters and trousers and trainers. Typical teenage boys.

“I’ll bet that’s why.” Oli nodded behind Belle and smirked as he watched his little sister turn around.

Megan Dover. Belle’s high school crush and cleverest person in the year. Felix and Oli caught Belle blush when their little sister looked at Megan, waving to her cutely. Belle was a lot more introverted than Megan, but Belle didn’t mind. She admired that Megan was so outspoken and kind and smart, but too bad they didn’t truly know of Belle’s existence. At least, not really.

“Alright fine, i’ll stay, but just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Belle rolled her eyes and then walked off in the direction of the kitchen - if she was ever going to speak to Megan she’d need at least 4 shots in her system.

“Be safe little B.” Oli waved her off and then the two brothers looked at each other knowingly. “Is Heather here?”

“Not yet no, think she’s coming with the girls in a bit.” Felix checked his phone as his brother questioned him. “What about Bea?”

“She’s upstairs.”

“Why? I thought we weren’t allowing anyone upstairs?”

“Dude she’s my girlfriend, I think she gets a pass.” Oli patted his brothers back and then saunters up the stairs two at a time to go and find his girlfriend and reintroduce her to the party.

Another smash of something glass sounding came from the kitchen, along with a turn of screams and mumbles of oops.

“Fuck, we are so screwed.” Felix muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever was now broken.

••••

Meanwhile, you and Harry were basking in each other’s presence at a fancy new restaurant downtown called Caste Inn.

Harry decided it was time for you to have a treat and so was taking you out for dinner and then retreating to a fancy hotel, where he would not let you rest for the whole night. He was already being really handsy this evening, but you kept swatting his prying hands away because you were in public.

“Babe, c’mon i’m dying here!” He whined as you swatted his hand away from the skirt of your dress for the fifth time since mains. You were lucky you were in a crescent shaped booth so it was hard for anyone to see what was going on underneath the table, but you still felt so exposed.

“Quit it Harry.” You sniped, returning your attention back to the desserts menu. The restaurant was that kind of place where the portions are sparrow sized and yet cost you as much as it would to donate a kidney, so there was no surprise that you were still hungry and had room for dessert.

“Just wanna love on my wife.” He pouted next to you, keeping his arm slunk around the back of the booth to continue to caress your far shoulder delicately.

“We’re in the middle of a restaurant, you’re crazy.” You snickered, trying your hardest to focus on the desserts; Tiramisu, Chocolate Orange Gateau, Pecan Pie, Creme Brulé and an endless list of more mouthwatering yumminess.

“Fucking crazy for you, yes.” He kissed your cheek once, twice and then bit it too on the third, making you moan slightly at the exposure of it all. “You used to let me do this kind of thing all the time, what happened hey?”

“I got old.” You laughed, but really you felt saddened by the thought of it. You were approaching your forties and you felt as though time wasn’t on your side anymore. Life was all flying by so fast and it was becoming so hard to stop it for a moment to see how beautiful it all is. Harry could tell you were faking your happiness in that moment and he hated that you felt this way. He loved you. He would worship the ground you walk upon. Nothing would ever be too much of an ask for him if it meant keeping your happy. Yes, you were getting older, but it didn’t mean that was a bad thing. At least you were getting older together and becoming maturer together.

“Talk to me, love.” He gently asked, knowing there was something on your mind that was bothering you.

“I just… I just feel like i’m getting older—”

“You are love, yes.” He interrupted you, which earned him a slap to the thigh. He didn’t let your hand go though, leaving it to rest on his tight thigh.

“And then suddenly that’s going to be it. No more Y/N.”

“Don’t say things like that to me, please love.” Harry shook his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter.

“And I feel like i’ll have regretted not doing so many things. Like I won’t have lived my life.”

“Things like?”

“Things like riding a motorcycle with you. Things like staying up all night with a bottle of wine and a good bit of Elvis. Reckless things, like skinny dipping or crashing a high school party. Things like, having my husband finger fuck me in a public restaurant. I remember when everything seemed so free and chaotic and I loved it. Now I feel stuck.”

“Stuck how, love?” Harry leaned in closer to you, his eyes full of love and determination because if that’s what you wanted he could give you all those things - especially the orgasm.

“I’m a mum, H. You’re a dad. We’re parents,m. Good ones at that. Aren’t we supposed to be grown up and responsible now? We don’t get to take risks anymore, because we have a family right? God, I sound so pathetic.” You sighed and put the menu down, not thinking about which pudding you wanted to fill yourself up with anymore.

“Babe. If you want to ride a motorcycle and go skinny dipping then let’s fucking do it. Why are you so afraid to hold back? Because we have kids, because darling believe me when I tell you - however much it disturbs me - our kids are out doing just as many reckless and crazy things as we used to do. Maybe we should fuck the prestigious system and show our children, all parents - including us - that adulthood, parenthood, doesn’t define the choices you make. We do.”

You couldn’t stop looking at your husband, drinking in every last drop of his beauty. His words filled your heart with rose petals and chocolates, warming you up delightfully. God, you were so lucky to have him. He helped you through the most toughest of times and continued to stick with you, not because a ring says he has to, but because he loves you. Undeniably and irrevocably loves you.

That was all it took for you to comply.

Quickly, you moved one of your legs under the table cloth so it draped over Harry’s thighs and made an opening between your legs. The cloth hid everything well, along with the dirty napkins that sat upon your laps.

“Wh- what are you doing love?” Harry asked confused, after not hearing a word back from you for his earlier speech.

“Harry I love you, I do, but will you just shut up and fuck my pussy with your fingers already.” You whispered wetly against his ear with your lips. He groaned at the words and tightened his grip around your leg, widening the gap he had to work with.

His hand slid underneath your dress slowly, squeezing the flesh of your thighs in tease, until he got to where your panties were. Or at least where they should be.

“Shit, you’re not wearing any pants?” Harry asked quizzically, pushing his fingers against your glistening pussy and feeling just how ready you were for him.

“Oh fuck!” You muffled out before Harry quickly slapped your slit because you were making too much noise, which only then made you squeal a bit more. He slapped your cunt hard enough the second time for you to get the memo that you needed to be quiet - but fuck was that a challenge. As much as you can be quiet, you just don’t like to be. You like knowing that your moans and whines turn Harry in even more, just as much as you love hearing his.

“Fucking hell, soaked already.” His fingers toyed with the folds of your cunt, feeling how puffy they were between his ringed fingers. “Gotta be quiet for me okay?” Just as he started pushing his delicious fingers inside of you, the waiter turned up at the table with a cheery face and not a bouncing clue what was happening between the two of you.

“Desserts?” He asked politely with his charming smile, but you didn’t see it for too long before having to close your eyes shut at the sudden movement of Harrys fingers. He wasn’t stopping on the waiters behalf, in fact he was more forcefully going for it. He moved his fingers in circles inside of you, thumbing over your clit in the way he knew you desired most. He was insatiable.

Reckless.

“No, just the bill please. Need to take my wife home to take care of some things.” Harry spoke for you both, not understanding why he was being so open with the amount of information he was giving away. But fucking hell you didn’t care because his fingers were providing you pleasures beyond reason.

“Yes Sir. I’ll only be two minutes.” He smiled again before he was gone, taking the menus with him.

“Here that baby?” Harry whispered into your ear, moving his fingers more freely now there was less of an audience, “you’ve got two minutes to cum.”

“Wha—”

Questioning his authority would have to wait, for Harry got to work very quickly and perfectly. His fingers slicked in and out of you so erotically and if it wasn’t for the live music and loud chatter of the room, the sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you would be heard by everyone. His fingers curled to all the right places, touching the most sensitive parts of your walls and hell did it feel blissful.

“I’d say you’ve got about a minute left baby, and I think you can cum for me before then. Can’t you? Or am I not good enough for that kind of release anymore?” Harry taunted you and pressed wet kisses to your ear. You were too lost in euphoric paradise to notice, or even care, whether anyone could see or was watching you both. You were too focused on your husband. Your Harry.

“N-no. I can cum. You’re so good - shit - so g-good.” You stammered out, breathless from the air stolen from your lungs because of this erotic moment. This was so bad behaved of you both that you were starting to get a high off of it.

“Cum for me then baby. Do it. I’ve got you.” He kissed your lips to capture the moan that trailed off your tongue as you reached your high. You felt so high and yet so safe. Harry steadied you as your legs shook and kissed you senseless, to quieten your whines. He admired that you had been so willing for this and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a raging hard-on right now.

“I love you,” you raced out quickly, “I love you.”

“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips again and withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt. You picked up a napkin but he quite quickly took it away from you, throwing it to the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?” You whisper shouted, needing to clean yourself up.

“More like what are you doing?”

“Cleaning my mess.” You said frustratedly.

“Leave that to me.” He spoke whilst holding intense eye contact with you, bringing his fingers that were coated in your arousal to his lips and sucking them dry. Every last drop worked its way into his mouth and he salivated at the taste - the smell.

“Harry—”

“The bill Sir.” The waiter interrupted you without knowing. Harry took out his wallet and used his card on the card machine, before signing his name on the cheque as if to affirm that he has paid.

“Thank you.” Harry spoke kindly, completely different to how he was with you all but two minutes ago.

“Thank you Sir, Ma’am. Have a lovely rest of your evening.” And he wad gone again with his smile.

Harry turned to you with the largest grin on his face, “Oh we will.”

••••

“Oli stop eating the leftover lasagne it’s for mums lunch!”

Belle was rushing around trying to chill everything down. The party was so out of control that even Oli and Felix were wasted. Megan was blowing hot and cold with her too, so she had no idea where she stood with them.

People were everywhere. Too many people that it was becoming claustrophobic. Felix was currently playing beer pong with a group of his friends, Heather attached at his hip, whilst Oli was sitting on the kitchen countertop eating cold lasagne. The boy was like chuffing Garfield. Belle was doing her best to keep calm, but as the night progressed it started to become worse and worse as it got harder to control.

As Belle turned to leave the kitchen, her brother clearly not listening to her, she bumped into someone. Kyle. Fucking Kyle. The guy who had obsessed over her to the point where Harry was seriously considering getting a restraining order on him to protect his daughter. He was a straight A creep and Belle hadn’t even realised he’d been invited to this party. Then again, over half of these people had most definitely not been invited.

“Oh hey Isabelle.” He stressed her whole name, knowing how much she hated it. Well, she didn’t hate her name she just hated him saying her name.

“Go away Kyle.”

“But I just got here.”

“And now you can just leave. Party’s ending anyways.” Belle stood her ground, but her hands were shaking from being even remotely close to this guy. He was disgusting to the point where if you were stuck between having to choose between being with him or eating mouldy cheese, you’d eat the cheese on a fucking silver platter.

“Looks quite alive to me.”

“Well i’m shutting it down and you’re going to leave. Now.”

“You need to liven up Belle.” Kyle chuckled through his nose, making him look scary as he towered over Belle, “let me help you.” He leaned forwards to grab her arm but she was quick to push him away.

“No! Leave me alone!” Belle shouted, trying to dodge around him but he was quicker. He grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back to him, chest touching chest. “Get off me Kyle.” Belle squirmed in his hold, which only made Kyle happier - the creep.

“C’mon Bella, live a little.”

“My name’s not Bella and I told you to get the fuck off of me.” Belle pulled back with all her might, whilst kicking him square in the balls - probably hard enough so he’ll never be able to have children - and then drove her knee up to crack his nose - successfully. Damn, that felt good. Heavily badass, actually.

“You fucking psycho!” Kyle held his nose and his balls in pain, straightening himself up as if to launch himself with fury at Belle. Luckily for her the outburst between the pair had caught attention of people - including Oli and Felix.

Oli was quick to step in front of Kyle, Felix just behind him. “You dare lay a fucking finger on my sister and I swear to you you’ll regret it.” Oli threatened, fists curled tight at his sides.

Heather came to hug Belle, comforting as she cried through the after shock of the situation. She’d been so brave and handled herself so well though. “You okay?” She kindly asked.

“Y-yeah.” No.

Everyone was now watching. The music had been muted to the point where you could tell it was playing but you couldn’t tell which song it was. Friends of Oli and Felix were standing close by in case things got messy, which normally only happened between the two brothers and not this way. Doors could be heard opening and shutting as people came in and out from places to watch the debacle occur between the hosts of the party and the unwelcome visitor. Oli and Felix knew they had to be careful though, because one wrong video and it could badly effect their dad’s career. Belle shook in Heathers arms and wished this nightmare of an evening to be over.

“Oh the whore’s not worth it anyways.” Kyle laughed, rolling his eyes as he pointed towards Belle.

“The fuck did you just call my daughter?”

Oh fucking shit balls.

“Dad?” Belle asked warily, seeing his dad stood in the doorway of the front door, her mum standing close behind him with her hand tightly clutched to his. As much as Belle was terrified that her parents had busted them, she also felt safe in their presence.

“Oh and here comes perfect-dad-of-the-year Harry Styles to the rescue.” Kyle teased which made Felix move forward in protest of his words.

“Fix.” Harry sternly called his name, making his son stop and look towards his dad who was shaking his head with a soft smile. Harry walked over towards Belle first, you still clutched tightly to him. “You alright?” He asked sincerely, not looking cross or disappointed at all. Belle nodded quickly and kept her head pressed to Heather’s chest. Harry turned to see his boys, raising his eyebrows to wordlessly ask them the same question to which they nodded too.

Harry dropped your hand, leaving you to stand with your sons, and left your forehead with a kiss before making his way to Kyle. “You okay boys?” You asked again, even though you knew Harry just asked.

“Yeah. Are you mum?” Oli asked, coming to wrap his arm around his mums neck to comfort her. He was so kind and thoughtful, just like his dad.

“Listen up, Kyle.” Harry started, keeping a good distance between him and the boy, “If you ever come near my family again i’m ordering a restraining order. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you break that order you’ll be going to jail. Big league jail too. Again not a threat, a promise. So you’re going to leave my house, this property in its’ entirety and go home to sit in your room and think about whether you would prefer to be in a prison cell instead. Do you understand?”

Okay, you’d be lying if you said his authority didn’t turn you on.

“Y-yeah.” Kyle mumbled pathetically.

“I said do you understand?” Harry repeated again, clearly not satisfied with the answer given.

“Yes Mr Styles.” Kyle said more surely, before scramming from the house, from the party and from the neighbourhood.

“Now everyone out of my house before I call the police.” Everyone knew how that was not an empty threat and dashed out of his house. Some looked at him in awe, because this was probably their once and only chance of being in the presence of the Harry Styles. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to think.

“Should we—” Belle started to talk but you cut her off.

“No, hunny. Let me go talk to your dad. You lot,” referring to your children and girlfriends who’d kindly stayed behind in support, “can go fetch some bin liners and start cleaning this all up.” You pointed around to the mess that was your house, before walking off to the kitchen.

You looked around at the mess. A broken vase. Litter everywhere. Half-drunken drinks left on the table. Bottle openers you definitely didn’t own before tonight. Trousers? You couldn’t help but giggle at the surrounding sight.

“What’s got you laughing?” Harry asked, still in his fancy shoes and fancy coat, you still in your fancy heels and your fancy coat. Yet, you were both standing in what looks like a garbage dump site. Harry moved his hand away from his face and looked at you with a blank expression.

“You were right!” You laughed.

“Your reaction as if that’s a bloody miracle, love, which kind of an ego crush, but continue.” He rolled his eyes and you rolled yours in response. You clicked your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he kept his wrapped around his own obviously still closing himself off.

“Our kids are being reckless and crazy.” You recalled dinners earlier conversation, smiling up at him in admiration.

“I didn’t actually mean it, it was just a quick way to make you feel better.” He groaned in frustration.

“Well gee thanks babe!” You laughed at the whole irony of this situation. “Harry, babe, look at me,” you had to used your hand to turn his cheek to face you, stroking his cheek to calm him, “adulthood - parenthood - doesn’t define the choices we have to make. We do. And our children, apart from that last little bit, seemed like they had the most freeing and most brilliant night yet! Let them be reckless H. Let them make mistakes. Just because this happened doesn’t make us bad parents, and it doesn’t make us bad parents if we decide no punishment—”

“Ha like that’s going to happen!” Harry cut you off and you glared at him to just shut up.

“Just shut up, you oaf. Let the kids live while they’re young.”

“You did not just reference one of my songs.” Harry looked to the ceiling as he smiled widely, before shortly laughing at how cheesy that was. “Oh my god Y/N!”

“What? Was is that bad?”

“Yes, babe. Yeah it really was.” He looked back down at you to see you smiling and he couldn’t help but cup your cheeks and kiss you silly. His perfect lips fit yours and you tasted him until you couldn’t breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you. Now go help clean up.” You ordered him, making him look at you confused.

“What the hell have I done to deserve this?”

“You booked the hotel for next weekend instead of this weekend you div. Now go.” You smacked his backside and he strolled back over to you and pushed you into the counter. You gasped at the sudden motion.

“Do that again and let’s see what happens.” He whispered dangerously against your lips.

“Go clean up and then see what’s waiting in our bedroom.” You bit your lip and tugged Harry’s hand to under your dress, giving him only a slight feel of how wet you were before letting his hand go and walking away.

“Kids, hand me a bloody bin bag. Now!”

514 notes · View notes

zealoushound · 2 years

Text

The Two Detectives: The Backstory (part one)

Summary: Our favorite couple meets at her big brother’s surprise birthday party. Little did they know that night was the beginning of it all.

This is the first part (of two) of the backstory to The Two Detectives.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC

Word Count: 3,203

Warnings: Fluff. Adults drinking, one really inebriated man.

A/N: This story has become my baby, lol. Be good to it please. It took me so long to post because the second half was making it super long. With the push of fellow writers @littlefreya and @winter2112rose I decided to break it in half then post. The banner at the top was made by me and the one on the bottom was made by @firefly-graphics.

Disclaimer: FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Writers live off reblogs! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this wasn’t beta’d. Y’all overlook the mistakes please!

***

8 years ago….

It was my older brother Evan's surprise 30th birthday party. Evan was one of Minnesota's finest police officers. Amber, his fiancé, had set everything up; the decorations, the food. She had invited his friends, family, as well as his closet coworkers. She had us all park up the street and walk back to his place, then jump out, yelling “surprise!” when he walked in. I’ve never seen anyone so excited to turn 30!

After hugging Evan, I went to sit with a few friends. I had grabbed myself a drink before sitting with them instead of mingling like Amber had suggested. After twenty minutes of catching up, the topic turned to men as it usually does between three single women. Casually scoping the room, commenting on a few cute guys when Anna admonished, “Good God, that guy is fucking huge!”

“Where? Oh. How did we miss him?” Asked Megan. Her eyes were as wide as saucers.

My curiosity got to me. I tried to look around as subtly as possible, thinking how impossible that feat would be with two other women ogling him at the same time. Then I saw him. “Wow...” was all I could muster. I doubt anyone had even heard me because it had come out as more of a whisper than anything.

He was standing against the wall next to the small bar just outside the kitchen where a few of Evan’s coworkers sat. He was tall, god was he tall; he was also broad in the shoulders which made him look even more massive. He had on a dark blue pullover, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, dark blue jeans and the largest pair of boots I’d ever seen.

He was listening intently to whatever the other men were telling him. Trying to hear every word over the loud music coming over the speakers in my brother's large living room. His brown curls bounced as he laughed with the people at the bar.

“Dibs!” Megan shouted as Anna and I looked at her dumbfounded. “What? I want that.” I shook my head as she stood fixing her dress.

“Bitch!” Anna jested as she walked away from us, and up to the tall stranger. Megan flipped her off in return.

I turned back around not interested in seeing my friend hitting on the hottest man in sight. I’d gotten out of a relationship two months beforehand and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I just needed a little release.

Anna began talking about the cat she’d adopted a few minutes later. “His name is Midnight!” She showed me his picture on her phone. “He’s so sweet! He’s solid black, and loves nothing more than to lay in my lap, getting petted. Now if I could just find a man that wanted that!” We laugh heartily. “Uh-oh.” She commented, looking behind me over my shoulder. “Tall, dark and handsome must have shot her down.

Megan humpft back down in her chair. “How’d it go, Megs?” I asked nicely.

“He wouldn’t even speak to me. His friend tried to hit on me!” She pouted.

“Shit, you should’ve gone for the friend!” Anna laughed, looking over to see the guy smiling back at us. “Looks like he’s still interested,” she added, taking a pull off her beer.

“He was kinda cute…” Megan turned and looked at the guy that had hit on her. He waved at her. She made a little motion with her head and they both got up.

“Oh Meg, do not fuck someone in my brother’s house!” Megan laughed in response. “If you go anywhere you best call an Uber!” Realizing half the people here were cops, and that probably was a given, I felt a bit stupid saying that, but Megan was, well, Megan so it felt right to say it anyway. Anna and I stayed and spoke for a while longer.

“Huh. He left.” I gave her a confused look. “Tall guy.” I turned to look, and sure enough ‘Tall Guy’ was missing from the bar, but my eyes landed on my big brother who was there instead; I smiled at him.

“Abigail! C‘mere! I want you to meet everyone!” Evan shouted, waving me over to the bar. Evan had always liked to show me off. “Smartest in the family,” he’d always say to people then tell them what I was in school for.

“I’ll mingle.” Anna winked at me when I looked back at her, giving her my ‘help me’ eyes. She just smiled, shaking her head and shooed me away. I made my way over to the bar, adjusting the hem of my shirt over my pants as I stood.

Evan introduced me to Rachel, Robert, Jacob, and Linda. Rachel was so nice, and was genuinely intrigued by my choice of majors. I was in school for biomedical science and taking a few chemistry classes, working my way up to astrophysics.

“Wow, Abigail. I’m very impressed. You've accomplished all of this at 28?” She smiled genuinely.

“Thank you. Actually, I’ll be 28 next month.” I was a little uncomfortable, but it was nothing new. I would alway get nervous talking to new people, especially about my profession. Some people were intimidated or they thought I would be weird because I was more ‘advanced’ as some would say. Most just left me alone, therefore I didn’t have that many friends outside of school. Anna and Megan had been my best friends since first grade, they were used to it.

Robert, the quiet guy who had been sitting by ‘Tall Guy’, as he’d been renamed in my head, piped up, “Really? My birthday is next month too, the 24th!”

“Mines the 22nd!” We smiled at each other.

“Maybe we can celebrate together?” He leaned in, and spoke softly into my ear. I was slightly buzzed, and very interested. I put my hand on his leg.

“Maybe.” I smiled back at him.

Evan cleared his throat loudly causing me to look up. “Where did Walter go? I wanted you to meet him too.”

“Probably in the kitchen for a refill.” Linda answered. Looking down at my almost empty bottle I decided it was time I got another myself.

“Speaking of refills, anyone else want anything?” I asked standing up. Two more beers were requested. Robert offered to help, but I needed a breath so I told him I had it. Walking into the kitchen I looked around. No ‘Tall Guy’ in sight, I heard Anna’s laughter from the other room. I smiled thinking how long it had been since I’d heard her laugh like that.

I opened the large blue ice chest on the floor by the island and took out three bottles, sitting them on the marble countertop. Noticing the cooler was getting a bit low I decided to at least take one task off of Amber’s hands for the evening. I closed the lid back and walked into the pantry to get another case of beer to refill the almost empty cooler. The cases were stacked up way too tall and I was struggling to get the top one down.

I stood on my toes to reach for the box on top causing my shirt to ride up showing my midriff to anyone who happened to walk by. I grunted, trying again to no avail. I huffed and put my hands on my hips. That was when I heard a deep voice with a smooth British accent come from behind me. “Need some help?”

I turned to look at the polite stranger, ‘oh shit, Tall Guy! Don’t say anything stupid!’ “Uh, yease,” ‘fuckingshitdamnit, try again!’ Blinking my eyes I tried to refocus and correct myself, “uh, that should have been yes, please. Thank you.” Mentally punching myself in the face, I just grinned like an idiot when he smiled at me.

He reached up, taking the top box, which was just above head level for him, off effortlessly. “Where would you like it?”

‘Anywhere you wanna put it. Oh, don’t say that for fucks sake.’ “O-Over on the island is fine.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, as he turned to go back into the kitchen. Biting my lip, I watched his ass shamelessly as he walked away. ‘Damn.’ I came up behind him to see only one bottle remaining on the counter. I looked back into the main room to see the others drinking. Evan over exaggeratedly mouthed, “I got ‘em,” and winked terribly at me.

I smiled back, “He’s so drunk.” Tall guy looked to where I had been looking as I opened the box.

He chuckled with only a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “They all are.” He said matter of factly as he took a swig of his drink. ‘Jesus even his hands are sexy... oh wow, his fingers are so long!’ Shaking myself out of the trance he’d unknowingly put me under I quickly busied myself with the task at hand.

I opened the box and put it on the floor beside the cooler. I fished the older coldest drinks to the side so I could put them back on top. I was bent at the waist which meant my ass was on full display for anyone looking and hopefully that anyone was Tall Guy. I could hear my mother in my head ‘bend like a lady now, Abigail.’ All I could think was, ‘yeah ma, you’re not the one who hasn’t been laid in 6 months.’

“Your brother has a very nice home.” He said politely. Somehow it was a good bit quieter in the kitchen even though it was just off the main room. I stood up once I had all the drinks in the cooler, closing the lid back.

“He does. How did you know I was Evan’s sister?” Of course Evan had probably told him about me but I was tipsy, therefore I wasn’t thinking properly.

“Evan talks about you a lot. He’s very proud of his little sister. He also pointed you out when you got here. I’m Walter.” He extended his hand to me. ‘So Tall Guy was the guy he wanted me to meet earlier.’

I wiped my wet hands on my jeans then took his. Walter’s hand absolutely dwarfed mine. I instantly felt butterflies looking into his eyes as he held my hand. His eyes were so incredible; I’d never seen a deeper, darker blue. I barely fought the urge to touch the beautiful mop of curls that sat atop his head. “You can call me Abi.”

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Abi.” Setting his drink down he rubbed my hand with both of his. “Give me your other.” He said looking down expectantly. My other hand was slightly trembling when I brought it up to his palm. “Did the ice make you that cold, love?”

‘Oh boy…’ “N-oh, no I just,” he brought my fingers, cupped in his massive palms, to his lips, and blew soft, slow puffs of warm air across them; his eyes never leaving mine. “That feels so nice.” I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations. I felt a slight rush of dizziness reminding me that I was still tipsy. “Coffee,” my eyes sprung open. Walter looked up at me, surprised by my outburst. “I need coffee. Would you like some?”

“Sure. As long as I can drink it here with you.” I felt myself blush like a schoolgirl.

“Of course,” I reluctantly let my hands slide away from his. “Thank you. They finally have some feeling back in them now.” He smiled kindly at me. I got the feeling he didn’t show that smile to a lot of people.

As I started the coffee Walter leaned over the counter by the sink next to me. “Smells delightful.”

“Mhmm, I love the smell of coffee brewing.” I responded not really sure with my words again.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee.” I was confused until he stood up, reaching out, letting his fingertips graze my neck; that was when I realized he meant me.

“Oh? Oh! Ah… thank you. Anna gave me this perfume as an early birthday present.” I reached up to touch the heated path his fingertips had just traced.

He leaned in closer, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. “She has exceptional taste. She picked out the perfect fragrance for you.” He put his other hand on my hip and drew me towards him. I stood with him, he pressed me fully against his hard stomach. I leaned up, tilting my head as he slowly brought his own down.

“No way! I don’t care what the score is! Lawson is gonna lose this bet!” We separated as Evan along with a friend I hadn’t met yet entered the room.

“Heey! Baby sister!” He hadn’t called me that in years, oh he was definitely drunk. “I see you met the detective!” He was slurring a bit and far too loud to be in this room.

“I did. Ah, you think you’ve maybe had enough there Ev?” He was scooping another beer from the cooler.

“Nooo. I’m off tomorrow anyways. I’ll be find. No, I’m find. Fiiinnee. Fine. See?” Amber walked in just in time to see that debacle.

“Oh I see how ‘find’ you are sweetheart. Let’s get you upstairs, what do you say?” He laughed and pulled her close by her ass.

“You just wanna get me in bed!” I stifled a laugh looking over at Walter who was looking at me, grinning. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes and started looking for mugs. I tapped him on the shoulder to show him the mugs were on the top shelf of the cabinet by the refrigerator.

When he reached up, getting two mugs at once I got a nose full of his body wash. I quietly produced an involuntary moan. He leant down to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to make you do that on purpose.” I released a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Evan must have noticed our interaction because he just had to say “Walter and Abi k-i-s-n-g.” Amber hit his shoulder, shushing him. “Firsts comes… I nont remember the words babs.” He looked at me with a delirious smile. I just shook my head.

“Evan. Do you remember who your boss is?” Walter asked with his back to Evan, replacing the coffee pot after filling our mugs.

Evan’s face went pale, his smile disappeared. “Uh. You Detective Marshall.” I chuckled to myself. “G’night Adbigail. G’night Defect-Detect, Detective.” He shook his head like a rejected puppy, letting Amber lead the way.

She looked back at us while guiding him out into the main room. She laughed, “I’m so sorry!” I waved her off as they left.

Walter handed me my mug. I blew on it gently, taking a careful sip. “Mmm, thank you. Hey, let’s go somewhere quieter.” I was feeling bolder now. I took his hand leading him over to the back deck. It had started getting cooler at night again but Amber had the fire pits going so it was warm enough to be comfortable.

Evan always kept a blanket in the muck room off the porch so I grabbed it on the way out. We sat down on the couch by the fire. A few people were still outside talking but we didn’t care.

We talked for hours that night under that blanket, sipping coffee by the fire. I didn’t realize it then but I’d already fallen for him. Walter was going to be my life’s greatest love, all I had to do was wait and see.

We talked about our families, our jobs; what we hoped the future would bring. He was very interested in my career choice as well as I was in his. Turns out he’d lead the big investigation that rocked the county a few months prior. The one that my brother refused to tell our mom about his involvement in, fearing that she would make him leave the force.

Walter’s career had been a very successful one. He was a father. I secretly, stupidly, wanted to meet her because when he spoke of her his eyes lit up. “She’s little but she’s mighty.” He showed me a picture of a beautiful curly brown haired little girl with his smile. “She’s 8. She’ll be 9 in December.” He looked lovingly at his phone's glowing screen.

“Oh Walter, she’s darling!” I touched his arm then looked up to his eyes. “Would you ever like to have more?” ‘Oh I hope he doesn’t think I’m fishing for a donor.’

He grinned at the picture then locked his phone. “Maybe. With the right woman I suppose I would. Faye's mom and I didn’t want anymore at the time so when she was two I decided to have a vasectomy. We figured it was easier that way; then I could reverse it whenever we decided on another, if we ever did.” I tucked my foot underneath my other leg. His arm wrapped around my knee holding me to him over the blanket. His fingers skimmed over my covered thigh.

He looked down with a solemn expression, taking a deep breath. “A year and a half after that we decided to get divorced instead.” He cast his eyes up to me. “Being married to a cop isn’t an easy job. She was always worried. I was never home and when I was, we were constantly arguing. It was the best thing for Faye. I realized after it was over that we worked better this way. No more fighting, just being parents.”

I was in awe of his candor. The gentle way he spoke about his past relationship with the mother of his child. I could tell he still had a great deal of respect for her. We kept on talking, kept refreshing and refilling our mugs.

Until I shivered, that is. I looked down at my watch: 2:18 am. “Walter, we’ve been out here talking for three hours now.” I smiled at him as he pushed the logs around on the fire again while holding my legs that were now draped over his lap. “You wanna go back inside? It seems quieter now.”

“Yeah most everyone had left the last time I went in for a refill.” He looked down at his mug as he sat back. “I didn’t want to tell you though.” He sheepishly admitted. “I didn’t want this to end.”

I took him by the chin and made him look at me. “This doesn’t have to end, Walter. We can go upstairs.”

“You want me to come upstairs with you?” He looked dumbfounded.

Confused by his question I responded with, “Of course I do. Only if you want to, that is.” I had assumed he knew that.

He swallowed hard as I took my legs out of his lap. “Lead the way.” I grabbed his hand as he stood with the blanket in the other.

Leading him back into the house I got butterflies. I smiled to myself thinking about when he’d told me earlier that almost didn’t even come tonight.

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@littlefreya @foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @nuggsmum @captainsy-cookiemonster @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @winter2112rose @ysmmsy @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond @beck07990 @eldarwen333 @littlebirdofrivia @themaskismyface @enchantedbytomandhenry @supermamabear123 @diegos-butt @atomicsoulcollecto @alexakeyloveloki @kebabgirl67 @cynic-spirit @cavillsthighs @janenyfl @pixie88 @awinkies @spazzymamahenrylover @bport76 @a-little-counter-esperanto @marytudorbrandon @palaiasaurus64 @sillyrabbit81 @littlewrenofrivia @viking-raider @being-worthy @foxyjwls007

#zealoushound writes #walter marshall fluff #walter marshall fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall ofc #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfic #walter marshall imagine #walter marshall x reader

170 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

Unconventional (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — part thirteen

This is basically pt. 2 to the last chapter, so we’re right where we left off xx.

Warnings: lots of fluff! fluffy smut 😏 loss of virginity, SIZE KINK!!, oral & fingering (f receiving), slow/“vanilla” sex, it is reader’s first time so this isn’t super kinky, protected sex (they’re not always gonna use a condom but y’all should irl)

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist || Hotch Masterlist

After dinner — which is at the table in the dining area connected to the kitchen, overlooking the entire city, of course — Aaron decides to take you on a tour of the rest of the penthouse.

“I wouldn’t call it a penthouse,” he argues, your hand in his while he guides you through the living room, over to the staircase.

“Oh, so this is an apartment?” You joke, pausing halfway up the stairs to look out over the living room.

“It’s a...house.”

“In a skyscraper?”

He shrugs. “A skyscraper house.”

You shove his shoulder. “What’s upstairs?”

“Mostly bedrooms,” he says. “My office and Dave’s room are downstairs if you want to see them, but my office is nothing special.”

“Cool, yeah-- bedrooms? Plural? Don’t you live alone?”

He stops at the top of the stairs, giving you a look. “Spare rooms? Yes, I live alone, but sometimes Dave crashes here, sometimes my mom,” he pauses, squeezing your hand. “And now sometimes you.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“There are three spare rooms,” he explains. “Mom’s is specifically for her, she’s very particular about it. Dave’s is general, but still his. Which leaves one more that I thought...you could have.”

“You’re serious?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be full time. But if you come over for dinner, like tonight, I don’t want you to leave so late when you can sleep here.”

You blink. “Right.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Yes, everything’s...great.”

“You need to talk to me, angel.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know. Megan put these…worms in my brain.”

“Worms?”

“She asked if we were moving too fast. I didn’t think we were until she said something. And then she reminded me that it’s only been a week since we met. A week. Isn’t that crazy? I feel like I’ve known you for months, a year even.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “Just. You don’t think we’re moving too fast, do you?”

“We’re—” Aaron pauses. “Here. Sit with me.”

He tugs you down to sit next to him on the stairs, with him a stair below you, evening out the height between the two of you.

Aaron takes both of your hands in his. “We’re not in a conventional relationship, remember?”

You nod. “I know. It’s just so I can get some experience for my book.”

“Exactly,” Aaron replies. “And it’s been working. If we’re not doing anything that makes you uncomfortable, then we’re alright. Does having a room here make you uncomfortable?”

“No, I—” You shake your head. “It’s really sweet of you. God, Aaron, you’ve just been…amazing. I can’t even begin to explain to you how amazing you’ve been and how considerate and just— I don’t have a past relationship to base anything on, but...you’ve shown me in just a week how I should be treated.”

“Good, that’s exactly what I wanted,” he says, squeezing your hands. “I want you to know that if I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I want you to tell me.”

“I know,” you nod, your eyes welling with tears. “See what I mean? See how amazing you are?”

You squeeze his hands this time, leaning down to kiss him. You meant for it to be a quick kiss, but Aaron pulls you in deeper.

“Ready to see the rest of the place?” He asks a moment later. “And your room?”

You nod eagerly, grinning. You let him pull you up, keeping your hands intertwined.

“This first one on the left is my mom’s,” Aaron says, pointing to the first door. It’s closed, but he steps over and opens it. “Nothing fancy.”

A king size bed sits in the middle, a white comforter with navy blue designs adorning it. Two nightstands sit on either side, with small lamps.

“She has a walk-in closet,” Aaron says, shaking his head. “As if she needs it.”

You chuckle, wondering what she must be like. “Does she come over often?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes. I’m sure once she gets a whisper about you, she’ll magically start coming more often.”

“One of those mothers, then.”

“She was elated when I got married. Heartbroken and grief-ridden when we divorced, despite the fact that it was mutual. And she hasn’t stopped trying to find me a wife since.”

“She’s still trying to set you up?” You laugh. “No way!”

“I’ve had to decline more than a few dinners,” he says. “Thankfully she stopped that a few months ago.”

You know he isn’t yours, and that what the two of you are doing isn’t a real relationship, but you can’t deny the fact that part of you is glad his mom has stopped.

He shuts the door and the two of you walk a little further down the hall. The rooms are a surprising length apart, definitely due to the sheer size of them.

Before reaching the next room, the one you assume will be yours, you blurt, “Does your mom not know about me?”

Aaron pauses, turning his head to look at you. “She doesn’t.” He thinks for a moment. “She can… She thinks too far ahead sometimes, without realizing it. I normally wait a while before telling her things.”

“Is it because we’re not actually together?” You ask. You can feel your hand clamming up.

“Oh, that won’t bother her,” he says. “She won’t believe it, anyway. I can tell her the truth and she’ll believe what she wants to.”

“Sounds like my mom,” you laugh. “And not in the good way.”

Aaron stops in front of the next door. “I take it your mom doesn’t know about me.”

You scoff. “My mother doesn’t even know I’m graduating in a few months.”

Aaron frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug. “What’s the next room?”

Aaron takes your lead and changes the subject. “Yours, actually. If you want it.”

“Hm,” you ponder it for a moment. “The offer does seem nice.”

He grins, and it’s so contagious that you grin back.

Finally, he opens the door, showing you inside the room-- now your room.

You gasp when you peer inside. It’s almost twice the size of his mom’s room, with a floor to ceiling window on the left wall.

With your hand still in his, Aaron guides you inside, flicking the light switch as he goes. This directs your attention upward to the smaller chandelier-type light in the middle of the ceiling.

“Woah,” you whisper, turning in circles, your hand slipping from his. “This is… This is insane.”

“It’s yours,” he replies, watching you.

A queen size bed sits in the middle, with the headboard pressed against the far wall. A small vanity sits against the window, and a door directly beside it leads into your own bathroom. The bed is made up with a white bedspread and white pillowcases, which looks beautiful to you, but Aaron is already talking about how you can customize it yourself.

“Customize it?” You give him a wild look. “Other than putting some art on the walls, I guess, maybe...I don’t want to change anything.”

Aaron furrows his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “Aaron, this is beautiful. This is like...four times as big as the bedroom I grew up in. It’s probably three times as big as my room now. I’m set.”

“If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, humoring him, grinning like crazy when he smirks.

“Good girl,” he says, holding out his hand. “You haven’t looked at the closet yet.”

You take his hand, letting him walk you over. “I wasn’t even thinking about it,” you chuckle. “Let me guess, a walk in like your mom’s?”

You were teasing. You were absolutely joking, but when Aaron said, “It’s bigger,” your eyes went wide.

First of all, the closet had double doors. Double doors for a closet. You’ve never witnessed anything like that in your life.

Aaron opens both doors, flicking a light switch, watching you take it all in as the closet lights up.

Racks on both sides for hanging clothes, with drawers on the bottom half. All of the clothes in your closet at your apartment would barely fill up one section of this.

On the far wall there are shelves for shoes and purses, both of which from yesterday are sitting there. The heels you wore to the event and the bag Aaron bought you.

“Your dress is at the cleaners,” Aaron explains. “And the others should arrive tomorrow or the next day. I was planning to have them all hanging in here when I showed this to you.”

You spin around, giving him the wildest look of disbelief and gratitude. “Thank you. Seriously. So much.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling brightly. “You deserve it.”

You give him an incredulous look. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll take it.”

He doesn’t try to argue with you about it right now. Later. “So you want the room, I’m assuming?”

“Oh my god, I’d love the room.”

“Then consider it officially yours,” he says, holding out his arms. “I’m in the process of it now, but you’ll get your own spare key for this, too.”

You blink. “What?”

“A spare key,” he chuckles. “Because you need it to gain access to my elevator to get up here. If you want to come over when I’m not here.”

“You’d let me come here when you’re not home?”

“Of course,” he shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I? I trust you not to do anything embarrassing.”

“You’d find me asleep on the couch,” you joke, even though you’re entirely serious.

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “This is why I’d trust you.”

+++

The final room is Aaron’s room, a massive master bedroom on the far end of the hallway. Part of you doesn’t expect him to show it to you, but still he takes you back there.

His room has double doors, but he only opens the right one, pulling you inside.

It’s clear from the first step that it’s his room. The king size bed is neatly made, with dark sheets and white pillows. Nightstands sit on each side, an alarm clock only on one. To the right of the bed is a floor-to-ceiling window, but on closer inspection you see it’s two glass sliding doors, leading out to a patio.

To the left side of the room, you see he has his own bathroom, as well as a walk-in closet. Not as big as yours, but still slightly bigger than his mom’s.

His bathroom doesn’t have a tub, but it does have a glass shower that gives you...thoughts.

You turn your head away, only to be met with his gaze catching you with a smirk. He doesn’t say anything.

“This is nice,” you comment, unsure of what else to say. “It looks like yours.”

Aaron tilts his head. “Like mine?”

“Yeah,” you nod, gesturing around. “Neat. Kind of brooding.”

“Brooding?” He laughs. “I don’t brood.”

“Oh, yes, you do.”

“Do I?” He takes a step closer to you, invading your space, but you don’t mind at all. Not when it’s him. “Do you like it?”

“Mm, very much,” you smirk, feeling his hands resting on your hips now. You circle your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer. “It’s hot, if I’m honest.”

“I do love honesty.”

“Well, it’s attractive. Arousing, even.”

“Is it now?”

You hum with a nod, letting him close the gap between your lips. He steals your breath, pulls you closer to him, leaves you aching for more.

And when he pulls away, you whine quietly.

“We haven’t gone over our lists,” he whispers, his lips barely ghosting over yours, your breaths mixing.

“I know,” you murmur with a slight nod, your eyes feeling heavy with arousal now, wanting more of him, all of him, every last inch. “Can we do it later?”

“Are you sure?” He pauses, pulling back a little more. “How far do you want to go?”

It’s strange, how sure of it you are. You always thought losing your virginity would be something you’d be waiting forever for. Or that you’d be scared to do. But now, you’ve never felt more ready, and you’ve never wanted it more.

“All the way,” you say firmly, though your voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m sure.”

“We’ll go slow,” he says, cupping your cheek. “Nothing too crazy tonight.”

You nod. He understands. He always understands you.

Aaron captures your lips once more, coaxing your mouth open for him before he’s pulling your shirt over your head. He moves his lips to your neck and your fingers naturally find the button in his jeans, hastily undoing it while he searches for your most sensitive spot.

He shoves his jeans down and kicks them away, wherever your shirt is, and then you’re taking your pants off, throwing them somewhere, too.

There’s a certain reluctance in Aaron’s eyes that you can’t place when you start to tug at his shirt. Part of you waits for him to stop you, but he doesn’t. So, one by one you undo the buttons of his shirt, slowly pulling it open.

It occurs to you then that you’ve never seen him without a shirt. Because if you had, you would’ve noticed the scars that litter his skin.

With the fabric hanging off his shoulders, you forget about everything. Suddenly all that matters are the marks on his abdomen that you can’t help but trace with your fingers.

He winces ever so slightly. The smallest of sounds that you’re surprised you even heard.

“What…what happened?” You know it’s a stupid question, but you can’t think of anything else.

“I’ll explain another time,” he whispers, grabbing your wrist gently.

“Do they hurt?”

“No,” he murmurs. “The scars don’t.”

Something else does, you think, but you don’t press him or the subject anymore.

Instead, you grab his face in both your hands and you kiss him. So he knows this changes nothing. So he knows you still care for him. So he knows you still want him.

And it’s all he needs.

He shrugs his shirt to the floor before settling his hands on your hips again, this time guiding you back toward the bed.

Once the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sink down, letting him tower over you.

“I know we didn’t go over anything but, do you know the color system?”

You nod. “Green for keep going, everything’s great. Yellow means…”

“Everything’s good, but slow down, don’t push any further,” he fills in from above you, pressing a kiss to your nose. “What’s red?”

“Stop everything immediately,” you reply.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, kissing you deeply, lowering his body onto yours. “Color?”

“Green,” you smile, smoothing your hands up his arms. “Yours?”

Aaron blinks, a little stunned by your question. “Green,” he says, then kisses you again, tenderly this time. “Thank you for asking.”

“Not something I need to be thanked for,” you say, stealing his line. “It’s what should be expected.”

He can’t help but grin.

And you can’t help but kiss him.

Soon your bra is coming off, Aaron having undone the clasp while you weren’t even paying attention — and his lips were on your neck, so he wasn’t even looking at what he was doing. It was hotter than it should be, honestly.

Something about feeling your bare chest against his has your skin feeling like fire, and you press him closer because you can’t get enough.

You whine when he begins his descent, leaving kisses on every inch of your skin, making you shiver. He drags your panties down your legs, but he’s still in his briefs. You want him to take those off, dammit.

But he buries his face in between your legs, with your legs hooked over his shoulders before you have time to say anything.

This time your fingers immediately thread into his hair because he’s wasting no time in getting you to climax. You’re gasping for air when the first orgasm hits, and he doesn’t stop, instead he pulls you closer, his fingers flexing against your ass.

“Aaron,” you choke out. “Oh my god.”

Now that you’re more relaxed, he works two fingers inside of you, not bothering with just one. He remembers how you lasted all of five seconds before you were whining for a second finger.

He curls the digits inside of you, pressing right onto your g-spot, and you nearly explode right then.

Instead, he straightens his fingers, then spreads them in a scissoring motion, and that’s what gets you. While you’re riding the waves of your second orgasm, he works a third finger inside of you, massaging your walls as you writhe above him. But the third finger brings a welcome stretch, one that you want more of.

You’re in a daze, chest heaving when Aaron’s face reappears above your own. You grin, no doubt already looking fucked out of your mind.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m great,” you chuckle, grabbing his face again to kiss him. “Seriously. My legs are shaking already.”

“I can feel them,” he laughs. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Mm, no, but you’re going to.”

You lift your legs and wrap them around his hips, pressing your core against the tent in his boxers. It startles you a little because you’ve never exactly felt a boner before. But it’s…strangely arousing. It only stokes the fire inside of you.

Aaron stands up to kick his underwear off and readjust you. You’re too busy staring at his hard on to focus on moving yourself into a more comfortable position, so he does that, all while shaking his head at you.

Without thinking, you reach forward and wrap your hand around him. Or you try to, rather, because you can’t wrap your hand all the way around him.

Your eyes go wide and you look up, finding him already looking down at you.

“We’ll go slow,” he murmurs. “This is about making you feel good.”

You nod and lay back on your elbows, watching as he reaches over to grab a condom.

“Wait,” you blurt, sitting back up. “Can I put it on?”

“Sure,” he says, handing the little foil package to you.

Carefully, you tear it open and pull out the rolled up condom. It’s slick with the lube it’s packaged with and it feels strange against your fingertips.

Aaron’s hands move to shadow yours, guiding you as you slide the condom over him. He tosses the foil package on the nightstand, guiding you to lay back down.

“You tell me if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right, okay?” He hovers over you, slotting his legs in between yours. You feel the tip of him press against your lips, but not moving.

You nod. You know you’ll be okay up to a certain point because you have toys of your own, so he won’t be the first thing that’s been inside of you. However, he will be the first that isn’t made of silicone.

“Words, honey,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Color?” He adds.

“Green,” you murmur, turning your head to capture his lips. “Move before I start moving you.”

He smirks, and begins pressing forward into you.

The sensation is familiar yet new at the same time. Your toes curl as you widen your legs, pressing your pelvis upward to take him in even further.

And then the uncomfortable pressure starts to build. Aaron senses it when you tense up, so he stops, studying your face.

“You have half of me,” he says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, but I need you to move.” You grip his biceps, tilting your hips. The movement causes him to slip in even further, and he cusses under his breath at the sensation.

Slowly, he starts to move. He starts painfully slow, waiting for your signal before he starts to pick up the pace.

Despite only being halfway inside of you, you feel like you’ve never been this full, and it’s intoxicating. The uncomfortable pressure is gone as quick as it appeared. You reach your third orgasm at a blindingly fast pace, crying out and clutching Aaron’s shoulders from the force of it.

The suddenness and tightness of you spurs his own climax and he stills, holding you close while you both come down.

Next chapter

#FSOAH #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds au #aaron hotchner au #50 shades of aaron hotchner #50 shades of grey parody fic #smut

378 notes · View notes

thedaredevilsgirl · 3 years

Text

Chapter Two - Vibrating

Warning: Smut (vibrator use, fingering and dirty talk)

Word count: 1,817

I'm starting to think I'm terrible at writing smut, but I swear I'm trying to improve. I hope you like it

You and Tom have always been close, everyone knew that, but after the events of the last week it seemed that you were even closer. He was always waiting for you so you could go to campus together, walking you to your class and taking you to the library before you went back to the fraternity.

"Megan said she is waiting for me in front of the library and can take me home later, so you don't have to wait for me today." You say to Tom as they walked to the library.

"Are you sure honey?"

"Yeah, see you later" you turn to look at him.

"Can I come to your room tonight?" He asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

Every time he smiled like that it made you nervous, you nod your head positively and he steps closer tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear before bending down a little to be your size and whispering.

"I can't wait to touch you again angel," you feel your whole body shiver at those words.

Tom leaves a kiss on your forehead and goes in the opposite direction from you.

When you turn to enter the library you see Megan with her arms crossed in front of her body looking at you suspiciously, you approach her and she pulls you inside the library quickly making you sit on one of the tables and sitting in front of you.

"You're going to tell me everything that's going on right now," she commands.

"What are you talking about Megan? Nothing is going on" you try to cover it up.

"Y/N I'm not an idiot, why are you and Tom suddenly so close?"

"We've always been close" you answer as if it's obvious.

"Yes, because he is your brother's best friend, but now you are acting like a couple, like you are fucking...OH MY GOD YOU ARE FUCKING" some people who were inside look at the two of you angrily.

"Keep your voice down please, and no, we are not fucking...not yet at least."

"Oh my god, what do you mean not yet?" She asks agitated.

"I asked him to teach me how to fuck" you say softly and embarrassed "he said yes and maybe he gave me a oral earlier in the week" you admit all at once.

She puts her hands over her mouth to avoid screaming again, and you can see the excitement in her eyes.

"Finally you're doing something about your feelings," she says with a smile.

"I don't have feelings for him" "A seriously" she rolls her eyes" You have liked him since first grade and he likes you too, you just never did anything because your idiot brother would kill him"

"That's not true" he tries to defend himself and she just looks at him with disdain.

"You can literally feel the sexual tension between the two of you."

"Anyway, it's just sex Megan, nothing else is going to happen, I just need the experience." You say. She suddenly gets up from the table again drawing glances at both of you.

"Get up" she says quickly grabbing her things.

"What? Why? I thought we were going to study".

"No, we're going shopping".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When your friend Megan said you were going shopping, you thought she was talking about going to some clothing store, but that's not what happened.

"Why are we here?" You ask Megan as soon as she has you enter a sex shop getting a blush as you look at the things there.

"I just thought since you started your sex life you might want a few things" She says laughing.

"If I had known you were going to act this way I wouldn't have told you" you roll your eyes "can we please leave".

"No, come on Y/N, have some fun, I know this isn't really your thing, but I guarantee that once you try it you will like it, you just need to give it a chance" she speaks while looking for something specific in the store.

"Try what exactly?" "

Here" she takes something from one of the shelves before turning to you again "try this on" she puts the box in your hand.

"No, no way" you turn red as you hold the small box of bal vibrator in your hand.

"Y/N, think along with me, you tonight, going into Tom's room and saying you want him to use this on you" she points to the vibrator.

You can picture exactly the scene perfectly and it sounds wonderful.

"I'm sure you'll kill him with a hard-on just by suggesting it, and you'll still have a wonderful orgasm, so...will you try it?" She ask.

"Ok, fine" you give in.

"Great" she smiles "don't worry, I'll pay, thank me after Holland makes you cum".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You ran to your room as soon as you arrived at the fraternity, only to take the vibrator out of the box and clean it, You also changed your lingerie for one that you had just bought. You wanted to impress Tom a little tonight.

As soon as you get dressed again and hide the small vibrator in the pocket of your sweatshirt you finally make your way to Tom's room.

"May I come in?" You ask knocking on Tom's bedroom door.

"Hey" he says as he opens the door and gives you room to enter "I was just on my way to your room, I thought you'd be here early" he locks the door.

"Megan and I decided to do some shopping" you say smiling and sit down at the study table.

"Did you buy anything interesting?" You ask curious.

"Yeah, I mean we went to some cool stores, forever 21, Gap, Victoria Secrets and Megan took me to a sex shop" you say as if it wasn't something interesting and Tom looks at you surprised.

"Megan took you where? He asks, maybe he had heard you wrong.

"To a sex shop," you shrug.

"Why?" he asks walking over to you and standing between your legs.

"I wanted to see something" you say a little nervously taking the small vibrator from your pocket "actually I wanted to try something"

"What?" Just imagining you going to a sex shop made Tom horny.

"I want you to use this on me" she puts the dildo in his hand.

He sighs as he looks at the vibrator and soon after he is kissing you desperately, his hands grip your waist tightly pulling you closer to his body.

Your shirt is the first to be removed and he stops for a moment just to look at your body, trapping his lower lip between his lips when he sees the red lingerie on your body.

"Do you like it?" He asks running his fingers gently over the strap of the bra "I bought it with you in mind."

"I think it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He helps you remove your skirt without you having to get off the table.

"Can you take your shirt off too, please?" He smiles and removing his shirt, his hand touches your abdomen the direction before pulling you in for another kiss.

His fingers touch the inside of her thigh trailing towards her intimacy, both fingers touch the delivery catching the wetness and he brings them to his mouth closing his eyes as he feels her taste again on his tongue. His breathing fails, you never thought you would see anything hotter than this.

"Are you sure you want to try this baby?" He asks to make sure it felt comfortable.

"Yes, please."

He finally takes the vibrator and turns it on at the lowest speed.

First he slides it down the length of your neck stopping the vibrations right at your pulse point, you close your eyes and feel him moving further down, from the top of your breasts to your nipples making them hard against the lacy fabric of your bra.

"Stop teasing me, please," you plead, and he just smiles.

The vibrations travel down your belly and you feel your breath hitch as he reaches for the bar of your panties, he looks at you for confirmation and you say yes.

The vibrator finally touches your clit and you feel like you might die, but the vibrations are turned off soon after. You look at Tom trying to understand why he had stopped.

"Don't worry honey, just getting it out of the way" he says pulling your panties off your body.

He turns the vibrator back on and puts it in contact with your clit, he moves it down into your folds teasing your wet entrance, sighing you throw your head back feeling the pleasure in your body. Tom leans only his body on yours and leaves wet kisses on your neck.

"Tom, please" you moan gripping the curly locks of your hair tightly

"I need more". He chuckles against her neck before bringing the vibrator again to her clit along with his thumb making a circular motion.

"Don't stop please" she pleads.

"You don't know how beautiful your moans are love" he whispers to you and lets a light bite on your earlobe increasing the speed of the vibrator.

"Fuck, Thomas, I'm going to..." You close your eyes tightly feeling a tasty sensation in the pit of your stomach indicating that you were about to cum.

"I got you angel, cum for me".

Your body obeys his command and you come with a loud scream of his name, he turns off the vibrator but continues with the finger movements until you come down from orgasm.

You hug him tiredly letting your head fall on his shoulder, he quickly picks you up in his lap and lays you on his bed.

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling your hair out of your face.

"Yes, thank you."

"You need to stop thanking me for this" he smiles.

"Never, not until you stop giving me orgasms" she laughs a little before closing her eyes.

He lies down next to her hugging her body and sleeping next to her for the first time.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You wake up the next morning alone in Tom's bed, desperate to get out of there and not be caught by your brother, and sneak out of the room quietly.

When you are finally ready for your day and go downstairs to the kitchen you see Tom and Harrison having coffee alone since the other guys in the house were slow to wake up.

"Did you sleep well?" Harrison asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

"Yes" you put the coffee in the cup and sit down next to him "Very well" you say looking at Tom.

"And you?" he asks Tom "did you bring any girls home last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, your room is next to mine, I heard all the moaning" Harrison says laughing and you choke lightly on your coffee "Don't stop, Oh Thomas, keep going I'm going to cum" you say imitating a female voice.

"Did you hear everything?" Tom asks nervously.

"Yeah, I don't know who the girl was, but I hope you made her cum at least," he says debauched.

"Yes, I did" he says smugly giving a cocky wink.

He walks past you to put the cup in the sink and when Harrison is not looking he whispers in your ear.

"And I hope for several more".

TAGLIST

@cherryobx

@a-daydreamers-day

@bevanbexley5252

@multihoee

@storybookholland

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #sam holland x reader #harry holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot

238 notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 3 years

Text

Chill Out

Characters: Rio x black!reader

Summary: Wine drunk + dancing= a very entertained but annoyed Rio

Warnings: Smut

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEA 💖 @starrynite7114 thank you for being such a great friend. I hope your day is filled with joy 😘 love you, babes! P.S. this was so hard to keep a secret from you lol

I highly recommend listening to these while reading:

Today you were on a high. You woke up feeling good and the day just kept on getting better. Your friends came over for drinks and gossip. During that time the playlist that was playing in the background had hits after hits, causing y’all to be singing dancing fools.

Eventually, the girls had to leave because it was a school night, but it was perfect timing because as soon as they were leaving Rio came back home.

“You have fun, mama?” He kissed you tasting the wine on your lips. You started getting bolder, nibbling on his lips and neck. Oh, it was about to be one of those nights, Rio thought.

Rio pulled away from you and went to the refrigerator for a water bottle. “Not right now. I wanna watch the game.” He explained, plopping down on the couch.

You tried to hold in your whining. It wasn’t often that Rio got to relax, so left him be. “Do you mind if I play music while I clean up?”

“Nah, you do you. I don’t wanna hear the commentators anyway.”

With his permission you turned the music up. It was a little mix of everything so when Crush started playing you got hyped since you haven’t heard that song in forever.

It's just (aah) a little crush (crush)

Not like I faint every time we touch

It's just (aah) some little thing (crush)

Not like everything I do depends on you

Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la

Rio side-eyed you as you began to sing and dance like every white girl in a 90s movie. “Really? You jamming out to this mess?”

“Rude.” You continued singing and dancing along while you were wiping down the counter. Then the next banger came on and you had to rope Rio in.

Motownphilly's back again

Doin' a little east coast fling

Boyz II Men going off

Not too hard, not too soft

Before you were in the kitchen singing and dancing, but with this new song you migrated to the living room dancing in front of Rio. “What you know about this?” You taunted him while doing the running man.

Rio secretly loved that you were dancing like a fool. You were the sunshine in his gloomy life.

He tried not to crack a smile at your silliness, but he couldn’t help it. “Come here,” he crooked a long finger at you.

Continuing to dance, you shook your head no. He wasn’t about to rain on your parade. “Come here.” Rio repeated with more authority in his voice.

This time you complied and stood between Rio’s legs. Grabbing onto your hips Rio pulled you into his lap. For awhile he massaged your scalp while he just stared at you lovingly.

Rio was the king of building up tension. Usually, you would snap and tell him to hurry up, but that would only make him prolong it. However, you were enjoying it this time. His nose rubbing against yours, his breath tickling your face, his hands running along your body.

Eventually, his lips graced yours. He held your chin as the kiss got a little messier. But as usual it was magical. “I love you,” he smiled at you.

“I love you too.” You kissed him once more before you got up. He smacked your ass as you walked away, enjoying it ripple before he got pulled away by the game. “Be ready as soon as the game is off.”

“Okay, daddy,” you giggled and went off to finish cleaning.

As you continue to clean you continued dancing. During commercial breaks you would dance in front of Rio causing him to roll his eyes like he wasn’t enjoying it. Mostly it was silly dancing, but then the twerk songs started coming on and you couldn’t help yourself.

Damn, I want all three (come here), ooh

Ashley (ayy), ooh, Ashley (ayy)

I get hard when she walk past me (look at that ass)

'Cause she thick (thick)

Thi-thi-thi-thi-thi-thick (thick)

Thi-thi-thi-thi-thick, she make me stutter

Thankfully it was a commercial break because Rio probably would’ve pushed you out of the way when you started twerking in his face. Instead he gripped a chunk of ass and told you, “Aye, chill with all that.”

“Oh, so Jake from State Farm is more interesting than me?” Rio didn’t say anything for a bit. He just rubbed his bottom lip while his eyes roamed your body. “Girl, you better move before you have my full attention.”

Rolling your eyes you moved out of the way and grabbed you a glass of wine. Fine, if he didn’t want to play, you’ll have fun on your own.

Two wine glasses later and you didn’t give one fuck. You were all up in Rio’s face rapping along with lyrics about using men. Even though, Rio was mostly expressionless you still caught his little quirks of reactions.

“He always asking do I love him? I always be tellin' him, "Uh-uh" I told him he pushing his luck, he better be happy I fucked him.”

“Watch it,” Rio lowly warned you. As usual you paid him no mind and played the next song.

Got more milkshakes than Kelis

Ain't met a nigga who can handle me

I think I should be in museums (hey hey)

'Cause this body a masterpiece (yeah yeah)

Can I fuck ya to a trap beat? (huh huh huh)

He said girl you tryin' to trap me? (Huh huh huh)

Ah hell nah, nigga no I ain't (what what? Uh)

You can hit that door, here go ahead leave (what what? Uh)

Rio couldn’t focus on the game. Between you twerking and rapping in his face, basically saying ‘fuck him’ had him hard as fuck, but he wasn’t about give into you. However, your determination was stronger than his. The last straw though was when you got on the couch popping over ass cheek at a time while looking at him “innocently.”

I wanna bust it on your face

He wanna see my shit squirt like he squeezed it

He finna die by this pussy, he need it

He wanna keep it like lock it and key it

I tell him to bring me my money then beat it

Give a nigga back to the streets, ayy

Even though the song wasn’t your words, it was still a challenge to him. You were directing all that energy to him and you about to get it back ten-fold.

While you were in Meganland, Rio was able to pull your shorts and panties to the side. He didn’t have the time so he pulled his dick out of his pants.

“Rioooo,” you reached back to grab onto his wrists when you felt him split you open. “Nah, what you running for? Remember you were gonna ‘leave this dick up in a casket’?”

Rio loved this song. The moment when he sees the brattiness dies and you become a compliant whimpering mess. Only he could do this. Only he could make this independent, strong woman weak.

“Come on, baby. I thought you ain’t met anyone who can handle you. This sure looks like I’m handling all this shit.” Rio smacked your ass as he looked at your conjoined bodies.

It was too much and too little at the same time. Rio was giving you those long, slow strokes that had you near the edge, but could never quite push you over.

“Please,” you begged, trying to flatten yourself. “Nah, you gonna take this.” Rio pulled your hips up and got a tight grip on them to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“Please let me cum, Rio. I’ll be good. I promise.” Your man chuckled, making you want to cry. He either wasn’t in a forgiving mood or he was gonna make you work for it.

Grabbing you by your chin, Rio turned your face towards him. Instinctively, he stuck some of his fingers in your mouth. “You want cum, huh?”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded, gently sucking on his fingers.

“Why should I? You wouldn’t let me watch the game.”

“Because I’ll make you feel good, daddy.” Rio smiled at you before he bent down and kissed you while wrapping his arm around your body to start rubbing your clit. “Cum on this dick, bitch.” He whispered into your ear.

Rio sped up his pace a bit and you were going crazy, yelling out his name. “Rio, Rio, tak-, tak-, take me to the room. I’m gonna squirt.”

“So?” His voice was strained letting you know he was close to finishing. “I’m gonna ruin the couch.”

“Fuck this couch. I’ll buy another. Now cum on this dick. I’m trying to finish the game.”

With his permission, you soaked Rio’s clothes and the couch and not too long after you felt his seed coat your walls.

“Shit, I love you,” you smile tiredly as you laid your head against the armrest.

“Uh-huh, get up and take all your clothes off.” Rio pulled out of you and smacked your butt. You were about to object, but when you saw the look on his face, you quickly undressed.

For a moment, Rio forgot what he wanted you to do. Your body always hypnotized him. He just stared at you with his lip tucked in between his teeth. “Come sit on this dick, mama.”

Ugh, he wanted you to ride? You didn’t have the energy for that, but you listened anyway. Facing the tv, you sank down on his dick causing you both to moan in unison.

You began to bounce up and down, but Rio stilled your hips. “Nah, you ain’t gotta do all that.” Thank god, he was gonna do all the work. “You’re gonna sit here and be still while finish watching the game.”

“Huh?” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Rio closed your dropped jaw. “And if you move I’ll watch the next game even though I don’t give a fuck about that team.”

Rio didn’t give you a chance to object. He turned on the tv and ignored. Guess you should’ve chilled out earlier.

Tagging: @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @starrynite7114 @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jassydwill11 @otomefromtheheart @miss-nori85 @xsweetdellzx @cherryblossomgirl20 @cocogodess15 @suburbanblackhoe @jad3djay @my-rosegold-soul @brattyfics @theartisticqueen @sesamepancakes

#Spotify #black!reader #Rio #good girls rio #rio good girls #rio x reader #rio x black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

1K notes · View notes

headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

EIGHTEEN | Charlie Gillespie

PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x sister’s best friend!fem reader

WARNING(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, fluff

WORDS: 3.9k

SUMMARY: “So kiss me where I lay down

My hands pressed to your cheeks

A long way from the playground

I have loved you since we were 18

Long before we both thought the same thing

To be loved and to be in love

All I can do is say that these arms

Are made for holding you.”

READ ON AO3

OR READ HERE BELOW

Charlie smiles, watching the sunlight dance on Y/N’s face, almost like little splashes of golden paint. She hums to whatever song is playing through her earphones, a faint smile teasing the corners of her lips. Her eyes are closed, and Charlie marvels at how peaceful and serene she looks. Her h/c hair surrounds her head like a halo, and he is tempted to reach forward and press a kiss to her temple.

He doesn’t do that, of course. Instead, he gets up from his couch and joins Y/N on the floor, lying beside her. Her eyelashes flutter at his movement and quaint, kind e/c eyes hold his stare, eyebrows raised in question.

“I thought you said that you were too mighty for the floor.” She teases, biting her lower lip to hide a smile. Charlie almost melts at that.

“I never said that. Is everything okay up there?” He points his index finger at her head.

The young woman of nineteen laughs mockingly. “Why, afraid you’re rubbing off your crazy on me?”

Charlie rolls his eyes, and shifts closer to her, their arms touching slightly – and even that slight touch makes him feels butterflies in his stomach. It’s not uncommon, of course. Ever since he realized that he is indeed in love with her, anything that she does gives him butterflies. He doesn’t mind, of course – but he hates the fact that he is unable to tell her what effect she has on him. So, he resorts to ignoring or suppressing everything he feels for his little sister’s best friend instead.

She pulls out an ear pod from her left ear and shoves it into Charlie’s ear. Eastside. She’s had this song on repeat, ever since she came to visit him in Vancouver, where he’s filming for the first season of Julie and The Phantoms.

“I love this song. Reminds me of my first boyfriend. Remember him?” She says, softly.

“Aaron. How could I forget? You begged me to cover for you at home so you could hang out with him.” He says, smiling softly at the memory. They were so young, Y/N just fourteen, and him sixteen. He remembers Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he was watching a movie, all flushed and bothered, eyes continuously flitting to Charlie. He remembers saying, “I know you’re dying to tell me something.”

She had nodded, looking around the Gillespies’ living room where they were currently seated in, apprehensively. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

He had jutted out his pinky finger and wrapped it around hers. “Never.”

“I think I really, really, super-duper like Aaron.”

“Aaron as in your next-door neighbor?”

“Yep.”

Charlie had smirked. “He’s such a dork. I can’t believe that you like him.”

“Shut up, Char. He’s the sweetest.”

He chuckled. “His hobby is taking pictures of trees… if that doesn’t scream ‘dork’, then I don’t know what does.”

She had glared at him while Megan had entered the room, plopping down on the couch beside Charlie. “What’s up?”

“I’m telling him about Aaron, and he thinks that he’s a dork.”

Megan shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? He’s really cute. Also, he was asking about you today.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes brightened. Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “You girls are weird. But I approve. He’s a nice kid.”

“I wasn’t looking for your approval?”

“Yes, you were.”

The girls had rolled their eyes at him and he had wrapped his arms around the two.

Y/N’s voice brings him back to the present. “Simple times.”

Charlie faces her. “Everyone after him were horrible.”

She narrows her eyes at the boy beside her. “No, you were just too overprotective.”

“Nope. They were all horrible.”

They weren’t. Charlie just hated anyone who showed an interest in Y/N. At first, he thought that it was probably because he had literally watched her grow up. But a couple of months later, when he watched her kiss Levitt from the swim team, he had felt a smoldering rage rise in his stomach, along with his heart clenching. That day, he had realized that maybe there was more to it than watching her grow up. A couple more months later, on his eighteenth birthday, when she had kissed him on his cheek and handed him a present wrapped in shiny, blue paper, he had felt butterflies in his stomach. He also could feel the ghost of her delicate lips against his skin for days after, like the remnants of a fire brushing against his cheek.

When he unwrapped the present, he found a vintage, hardbound copy of his favorite book, Les Misérables, along with a note, saying: ‘I might’ve read your journal. Only the part about how much you loved hardcovers and the part about how much you hated the fact that no bookstores nearby sold it. Well, I also might’ve read the part about how frustrated you are with microwave timers. I feel you, dude. But, yeah, remember when I said that I was going to visit my sister in Montoc? I lied, LOL. I went to a vintage bookstore in Fredericton. I’m sorry for lying, but ‘twas for a good reason, huh? Hope you like this. Also, you’re my second favorite person, after Meg. Happy 18th, Charles. Love, Y/N.’

That moment he had realized that he was completely, utterly, truly, madly, deeply in love with his little sister’s best friend.

It’s been about three years since that, and he still hasn’t told her how he feels.

Now, Y/N looks at him, and rolls her eyes. “Sheesh.”

She props herself on her elbow. “When are we going out today?”

“Jeremy said that he made a reservation at 6. So, we’ll leave half an hour earlier.”

“Okay. Is Owen going with us?”

“Yeah. I don’t trust him to drive in Canada.”

She grins. “He’s cool.”

“Maybe sometimes.”

“Savannah and Madi are the coolest, though.”

“Definitely, yeah.”

“You never told me that you had a cute roomie, though.”

“Yeah – wait what?”

Y/N flashes him a teasing smile and pushes herself upward with the palm of her hands. She brushes off her yoga pants and extends an arm to Charlie who is currently panicking inside.

“Do you like Owen?”

“What if I do?”

Charlie must have looked as horrified as he had felt because she laughs and says, “I’m just messing with you.”

“Thank god.”

***

“Finally!” Y/N yells, kicking off her black, leather heels, which land near Charlie’s feet. He laughs, kicking them to the side.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I dare you to wear heels like that for a day. See how you feel.”

Owen pipes from behind them, closing the door to their apartment. “Oh, I did. My friend Dani made me wear them for a video. It was the most painful day of my life.”

“See!” Y/N high fives his roommate as Charlie scrunches up his face. “How’d she find heels in your size, dude?”

He laughs, and extends an arm toward the other two, who hand him their coats, muttering ‘thank you’ individually. He walks inside, yelling, “I’m fucking tired. Going to sleep.”

“Don’t forget to check the stove!” Charlie yells back, hearing his roommate affirm his request.

It’s just the two of them standing in the foyer now, and Charlie can’t stop staring at her. She’s wearing this beautiful red dress that compliments her skin perfectly, clinging to her body in all the right places – he had himself gifted her this dress on her nineteenth birthday. (Not really. His mother had picked the dress.)

She hasn’t noticed him staring, though.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” She walks inside.

Charlie pauses and purses his lips, trying to stop himself from picturing him doing it. He breathes out raggedly and follows her inside – trying (and failing) to shove that mental picture away.

Reaching the living room, he falls back onto the couch, which has been his bed for the past few days that Y/N has been here. She had protested, of course. But she already has so much trouble sleeping – she’s had it ever since she was a child.

Y/N hadn’t had the best childhood. Charlie faintly remembers his mom pulling him and his sister into the kitchen one day when Y/N left their house after spending the whole day there.

“Mom? What happened to Y/N?” Megan had asked, childlike innocence dripping off her tone.

Charlie had nodded, saying, “How’d she fall down the stairs? That bruise looked nasty.”

Their mother had sighed, and Charlie still remembers the pain in her eyes. “Honey. I want you to listen carefully, okay? And not tell anyone. You two think you can do that?”

They nodded enthusiastically.

“There are good people in this world – like Y/N. But there are also bad people, people who hurt the good people. And sometimes, sometimes, your parents can also be bad people.”

“That’s not true!” Megan had protested, their mother smiling.

“Maybe not for you. I hope so. But Y/N’s parents – they aren’t the best people, okay? They…uh… I’m not going to excuse their actions. They, uh, hurt Y/N.”

“So, they pushed her down the stairs?” Charlie asked, his eyes widened. He could not understand how the people that loved you the most could do that to you, especially to someone like Y/N. He’s known her his entire life, ever since the Y/L/Ns moved next door when he was still in diapers.

“I don’t know. Something happened. She was too shaken up to talk about it.”

“But – but – she’s the best person ever! Why would her mom and dad do that to her?” Megan had protested, eyes welling with tears at the thought of her best friend getting hurt.

“I don’t know, honey. I wish I did, I really do.” Their mother paused for a long moment. “I want you two to always be nice to her, alright? No matter what happens. Because, right now, she feels alone. I can see it in her eyes – she’s scared, confused, lonely. I know you two love her so much, and I want you guys to make sure that she knows it, okay? Make sure that she never feels lonely, all right? Make sure that she’s always safe and comfortable, as long as she’s with us, you.”

They had nodded, their hearts welling up with love for their friend.

After their mother hugged the two of them, Charlie’s twelve-year-old sister had run off to the other room, to call her best friend and tell her just how much she loves her.

Charlie had lingered in the kitchen, too sad over what he’d just been told.

“Maman?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can’t we just keep her for ourselves?”

“If we could, we would. I would like nothing more. But that’s absolutely not legal, mon chéri.”

“Oh. That’s unfair.”

His mother had flashed him a sad smile. He had taken both of his hands in his, and said sincerely, “I promise you, maman. I’m always gonna protect her. No matter what.”

His mother had pressed a kiss into his tousled hair and whispered, “I expect nothing less.”

It’s been more than seven years since, but Charlie still does everything in his power to make sure that she is always safe and happy.

“Hey, Char?” Her voice brings him back from his childhood.

“Yeah?”

“That couch doesn’t look comfortable.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“It is! I promise you.” He lied. It definitely wasn’t comfortable. The blinding pain in his neck is proof of that.

“Don’t lie to me. Come on, sleep in your bed.”

He shook his head.

“You’re not gonna sleep on the couch, Y/N. Seriously. You’re right, it’s too uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t gonna. We’ll sleep together. That came out wrong. I mean, we can both sleep in the same bed, we’re both adults.”

Charlie wanted to protest, but the hopeless romantic in him drowned all objections.

“We’ll put pillows between us, okay? And it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before. Remember my seventeenth? We were so drunk that we thought that the bed was a magnet, and we were screws.” She continued, looking away.

Charlie smiled up at her, remembering the feeling he had the next morning when he had woken up to find Y/N curled up into him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. “All right. If it’s okay with you.”

She nods, walking into his bedroom, with Charlie following close behind. Both them wordlessly change and freshen up in the bathroom, and Charlie falls face first in his bed.

“Oh. My. God.”

Y/N laughs, sitting at the corner of his bed. “Knew it.”

Charlie grins at her, feeling absolutely euphoric, especially with the buzz from all the drinks he’s had tonight still lingering in his head like a tattoo kiss. She slides under the covers, burrowing her face into the soft pillows. “I can’t function anymore. Bye.”

He laughs softly, squeezing her shoulder, to which she softly smiles. He slides under the cover, resting on his side to face her, or rather a mess of h/c hair and soft, rhythmic breaths. He closes his eyes, switching off the light, but he knows that he will not be getting much sleep tonight, especially with the fuzzy citrus scent of her perfume everywhere and the heat from her body consuming him.

***

It’s 1:20 AM and Charlie can’t sleep. Turns out that being in the same bed with the girl he’s been in love with since he was eighteen is a very, very bad idea. He’s put as much space between them as possible, yet he still feels vigilant and hot. His mind is betraying him: all he can think about is how beautiful she looks when the moonlight streaming through his window is casting shadows on her face, or how she’s sometimes saying things (really, really weird things, though – Charlie doesn’t understand anything), how much she looks like a little cat while she’s snuggled into the covers, or how she flails her arms while she’s asleep.

He considers crashing in Owen’s room for the night. But as soon as Y/N starts moving around, still sleeping, he holds that thought and watches her instead.

He can see her getting agitated, as she tosses and turns. She continues murmuring something, but it’s still all jumbled, and it hits Charlie.

He props himself on his elbow and leans close to her face. “Y/N. Hey. Come back to me. Y/N. Honey. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

She gasps, as consciousness floods in her system. She looks confused for a second, and Charlie sits up, right beside her. “Listen to me. You’re safe. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

She exhales, eyes closing for a second.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asks when her breathing has turned cadenced.

Her eyes widen and lips part. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize for that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I just – ever since I left home, I’ve been getting these nightmares.” She says, softly. Charlie lays next to her, turning to face her, while she mirrors his actions.

“What do you see?” He asks.

“Mostly my childhood. You know, my dad pushing me down the stairs. Or my mother telling me that I’m a horrible person and no one will ever love me, and she should have aborted me. Or my dad breaking the mirror the one time I got a B in math. Or my parents fighting. Or – you know, just a montage of my parents’ greatest hits.”

She breathes out shakily.

“Getting away didn’t stop the nightmares, huh?” He asks, resting a hand on her warm cheek.

She scoots closer. “No. They still text me sometimes, mostly to remind me that I’m a terrible person and that I’m gonna go to hell for walking out on them and not going to Harvard.”

“Y/N, don’t you dare –”

“No. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Walking out was the best decision that I’ve ever made.”

He smiles softly at her.

“You and Megan… god, you two saved my life. I would never have had the courage to get this far if it wasn’t for you guys.”

“No, honey. It was all you. You’re the strongest person we know.”

“Shush. Let me compliment you in peace. You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.”

She smiles, reaching forward to tangle run her hands through Charlie’s hair. They were dangerously close now: Charlie could see the curve of her nose, the lingering red lipstick color on her lips and count the number of eyelashes she has.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to us, too.”

Charlie can feel something in the space between them, something pulling them close. It is cold outside, but here, in the cocoon they’ve created, he feels warm and at home.

“Like, thank you so much for pushing me to get into law school. Now, I’m learning how to help millions of little girls who are going through what I went through, and it makes everything worth it. I feel like I don’t say this enough, but Charlie. Thank you for everything.”

He smiles, trying to retort something funny but her proximity has jumbled his mind.

“I know you’re really busy with your life, but thanks for still thinking of me sometimes.”

That breaks Charlie out of his daze. “What?”

“You know. You’re in a Netflix show, working with Kenny freaking Ortega and all these incredible people – and I’m enormously proud of you, by the way – and… well, you’ll soon not have that much time for your little sister’s best friend, you know?”

“You’re not just my little sister’s best friend, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m your friend, alright. But soon you’ll be meeting celebrities and models and actors and then you wouldn’t have time for me anymore.”

Charlie furrows his brows. “Where is this coming from, Y/N?”

“I just had a lot of time to think today.” She turns on her back, facing the ceiling.

He hates the fact that she is so unpredictable: he never knows what’s going on in her head or what she is feeling. That’s one of the reasons that he’s kept his feelings for her a secret for almost three years.

“I saw you with that model today. At the bar. Uh. So, I thought that you’re probably gonna meet a lot of them in LA. Models and Hollywood girls and all that. So, you’ll probably not have any time for me anymore.”

Charlie shakes his head, recalling the model he was talking to earlier today. Or rather, yesterday. Carol. She was really nice, sweet, and beautiful – and definitely interested in Charlie. But his focus had been on Y/N, who was having a dance off with Owen and Savannah, all evening – or rather, all the time. He had tried to focus on the Carol, he really did – but after an hour, she herself realized that he wasn’t into her and whispered a ‘good luck with her’ to him before leaving to go back to her friends.

“Y/N, that’s not true –”

“It’s okay, Charlie. It’s good. Your life shouldn’t be stuck in the same place. It should be getting better, and you should be meeting new people, you know? You’ve been alone for a weirdly long time and it’s freaking your mom out. So, I know you’re gonna fall in love with someone and then you’ll be too busy –”

“God, Y/N, how are you so fucking oblivious?” Charlie snaps, annoyance coursing through his veins.

Her eyes widen at his harsh tone of voice, and it shocks Charlie, too. He’s never, ever raised his voice at her.

“What?”

Maybe it’s having her so incredibly close that causes him to finally snap. “Y/N, I have been in love with you ever since I was eighteen. You’re the only person that I want, and you’re the reason that I’ve been alone for a weirdly long time.”

He immediately regrets saying that. Y/N is sitting up, and she is looking around everywhere, trying to avert Charlie’s eyes. He hides his face behind his hands, sinking deeper into the covers and trying to create a hole and fall down to the center of the earth.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink today.”

He groans into his hands, glad that he’s under the covers and the girl can’t see his absolutely scarlet face. “Oh, for god’s sake. Dude. I wrote you an entire ballad when I was nineteen because I realized that this is exactly what’s gonna happen – that I’m always gonna be in love with you, and you’re always gonna think of me as your best friend’s older brother.”

He feels the covers shift above his head, and is greeted with Y/N’s face, a vulnerable look in her eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course, I do. You’re my family – do you really think that I’m gonna joke about something like this and ruin our friendship? The only reason I’m even telling you this is because I’m incredibly frustrated that you’re so oblivious and you’re so fucking pretty. And so close. See, this is exactly why I wanted to sleep on the couch. Because I knew that I would lose it.”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement and her lips are on his’, and they’re kissing, kissing, kissing. Charlie is too shocked to do anything at first but as soon as the warmth courses through his system and the butterflies go wild in his gut, he pulls her closer, rising up. She sits in his lap, straddling him, their hands getting lost in each other’s hairs – both of them trying to be closer, closer, closer to make up for all the lost years and to keep feeling the contentment that they feel from just being close to each other. She tastes like Charlie’s mint toothpaste and his dreams – like everything he’s ever wanted.

As they separate for air, Y/N rests her forehead on his. “I thought you knew.”

“What?” He’s surprised to find his voice hoarse.

“That I’m in love with you.”

He can’t stop the grin on his face from escaping. “What?”

“I thought Meg told you. Or your mum. Or anyone really. Everyone’s called me out on it. I’ve always had a crush on you but dating all those guys in high school made me realize that I was kind of, you know, in love with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Same reason as you. You’re my family, Charlie. I didn’t wanna lose what we have just because of… you know.”

Y/N slides off his lap and lies on the bed, next to him and he mirrors her actions, and she rests her head on his chest, the frantic beating in his chest her background music. He drapes an arm around her shoulders, desperate to have her close.

“We’re both cowards, eh?”

She giggles.

“Wait. Meg knew?”

“Of course. She’s my best friend.”

“You know, one day I got drunk and told her that ‘I’m 100% attracted to your best friend sexually and emotionally and everythingally.’ I kept wondering why she was laughing.”

“I hate her.” She buries her face in Charlie’s chest, giggling.

Charlie laughs and pulls her in for another kiss, desperate to hold her again, to feel the high he only feels around her. She smiles against his lips, before a thought occurs to him. “Wait. You were jealous of the bar girl, weren’t you?”

“Shut up, you dork.”

They’re only half aware of the snowstorm raging outside from the warm cocoon they’ve created in each other’s arms. Maybe miracles really do exist.

***

drop a message in my ask or in my messages if u wanna be on the jatp taglist!! requests are also open <3

457 notes · View notes

theloveclub-18 · 3 years

Text

She’s just a friend

summary: you and Ransom decided to try that friends with benefits thing

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

word count: 1947

warnings: explicit language, mentions of sex, but no actual smut, little angst

A/n: please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work.

———————————————————————

It was 3:15 a.m. when you opened your eyes. Ransom was lying next to you with his arm around you waist. You took a deep breath and tried to put out of his embrace, but he only held you closer. You should’ve not stay through the night and leave by the end of your fourth and last round.

Yeah, sex with Hugh Ransom was good, even more it was absolutely fantastic. You always thought about how maybe he ruined you for other partners. This man was so ridiculously good in it. What you also thought about was how maybe you should’ve known better and never agree for that friends with benefits thing. In your defense you really needed an emotional discharging and he’s always lookin’ so fucking sexy, so you just gave up, when he so casually asked you about it after a couple glasses of whiskey few months ago.

But now god knows how much you regret it because you fell and fell hard for that “asshole”. Well, actually he’s not that bad it’s more about how he wants other to see him. And they do. They all believe in it, his image of arrogant cold hearted jerk. Ransom is a jerk in fact, but sometimes you see things that others don’t. You see a broken boy who tries to cover his vulnerabilities by venom observations and jackass demeanor.

Of course you tried to talk to him about it, talk about what he went through, but it usually never worked out. Though one time after another family event you saw something in his eyes, a speck of sorrow and you let yourself to hope that this is the moment when he’d finally open up. It also was the moment when you knew how much you loved him.

But as soon as this thought slipped through your head, Ransom changed in face, as if he read your mind and he didn’t like what he saw. He stand out from the nice and warm bed and headed for the kitchen saying you should probably go home. He didn’t come back to the bedroom and soon you left his apartment with tears on your face.

You had nothing to blame him for. It was pretty clear from the start that he didn’t want anything serious from you or from anyone else. Ransom said he didn’t believe in such things like love and relationships but good fuck was something he believed very much.

So were you. At least for the first couple of months.

But then you did the stupidest thing you could ever do...you let yourself hope for more. You’ve started to notice his lovely glances from across the room and the way he always try to hold you whenever other guys where approaching you like he was marking you as his. How he was laughing at your stupid jokes and watched your favorite sitcoms with you.

It was three weeks later when you came to the local bar with your coworkers to relax on friday night after a hard week and spotted him flirting with some pretty girl at the table. You remembered her, she was the girl who takes care of his grandfather. Ransom was in white sweater that you gave him this christmas and the girl in cute little dress, well, she was really gorgeous one with big puppy eyes and the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You knew you can’t compete.

He didn’t even notice you there and even if he did what’s the matter. He’d probably just say hello and walk away. You tried to calm yourself down and stop being so jealous, because you have no rights for it, but still it was breaking your heart.

The next day when you came to his apartment to take some of your things, you heard something you wish you’d never heard.Ransom was talking on phone when you walked in.

-“Yeah, man, you know she’s just a friend to me...yeah, I know-I know but hey you know i’ll never settle down for anyone...ahahahah...yes, even for Megan Fox”-Ransom laughed and you left as fast as you can.

And you were just a friend indeed and nothing more. You felt like you was the biggest fool on earth for believing that you really had a chance with someone like him.

You crying all way home and when you finally get there, you thought about how you going to end everything with goddamn Ransom, because of how much pain it caused you too be so close with him yet so far.

However now you laying in bed with the same man that you promised you’d never sleep again with, while he’s holding you close to his chest. Yeah, sometimes things doesn’t work the way you want them to.

You look at his peaceful beautiful face and wonder how would it feel to be loved by this man. To spend your life by his side.

“Well”- you think to yourself - “I guess we’ll never know”. And with that you slowly remove the blanket and get up from the bed careful enough to not wake Ransom up.

You stand a little bit too long in front of the front door and hesitate to leave, cause you know that this was probably the last night with him. When you get in the car you finally feel how hot your tears are and how heavy is this weight of unrequited love on your chest.

Days go by and you slowly started to live without him. You told your roommate Sarah never let him in again and blocked his number. You thought that maybe you doing something wrong and maybe you should’ve been happy with what you had. But then again you remembered that you’d never be more than a fuck buddy to him and he made himself pretty clear saying this to some of his friends just a couple of days ago.

“It’s time to move on”-you were thinking as you walked into some fancy restaurant for set up date that was arranged by Sarah. She said he’s very sweet and a doctor, so why don’t try it? Maybe this guy Mark is all you’ve dreamed for?

The guy is the complete opposite of Ransom. He’s not that tall, but very nice and lovely. He also have a pretty blonde curls and dark brown eyes that mean nothing to you, cause they’re not as deep as Ransom’s. You really try to enjoy the date, but all you can think about is how the man in front of you is not Ransom.

-“So what’s the guy’s name?”-Mark said.

-“What do you mean?”-you said with confused look-“What guy?”

-“The one you want to see on this chair instead of me”- he said with weak smile and understanding look- “Sarah told me about you wanting to move on and forget about «the jerk», but now i see you everything but ready to move on, so please tell me about it and maybe i’ll can help”

You gasped and thought about how your friend didn’t lie about Mark being kind and maybe a little too much kind to you.

-“Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss it right know, cause...”- you started, but get interrupted by Mark.

-“No, Y/N, I obviously can see that you not mentally here right now and that’s okay, it took me a long time to recover from my previous relationship too so i don’t wanna push you into something, you know. We can just have dinner like a good old friends and talk about our ex’s”-he smiled-“So feel free to start”

-“Okay”-you said still trying to proceed what he just said-“Well, i don’t wanna say his name and he wasn’t even my boyfriend. We just had sex with no strings attached”

-“But you get attached?”-he asked with a sad smile.

-“Yeah, and now i’m fucked”-you replied.

-“What did he say ‘bout your feelings?”-Mark asked as he sipped his wine.

-“Oh, no. I didn’t tell him about my feelings”-you said with sad eyes and tired smile-“I didn’t lost my mind completely to say to Ransom Drysdale that i love him with my whole heart and probably will never be able to not”

-“You love me?”-you heard a familiar voice behind you back and wished you could’ve just disappear.

-“I think I should go”-Mark said and hurried for the exit with a small smirk.

When you turn around you saw Ransom.

He looked worse than the last time you saw him. He looked tired and his beautiful blue eyes were full of so many things, that it confused you so much that you didn't know what to say.

-”Please, Y/N, tell me”-he said-“You love me?”-he looked so broken inside and desperate for my answer.

-“I...”-you hesitated for moment, but then decided to risk it all-“Of course i love you, Ransom, how can i not?”

-“Then why you left me?”-he said with pain in his eyes-“Left me in a middle of the night? Left me when i thought you are the one who’ll never do that.”

-“Because you didn’t”-you said with a small whimper feeling the weight on your chest again-“You didn’t loved me”

-“I did”- he said and finally you saw how red his eyes were-“And i do now”

-“Then why you didn’t tell me that? How was i supposed to know that when you started to close off every time i tried to bring something about feelings up?”-you said with a bitter feeling on you tongue.

“It was hard for me, okay? I’ve never told this to anyone before”-he said as his cheeks grew red-“Even to my mom when i was a child. I didn’t have a family when you can easily say such words”-Ransom took a deep breath before he could continue-“And then i met you and i liked you obviously. You became the light of my life. All those years I was living in a blur and never truly seeing things the way they where. I was a fool, because every time i was so afraid to ruin what we had, i wasn’t sure that you could ever feel the same. Y/N, i’m not a good guy and i’ve done a lot of bad things, but you were the only right thing in my life and i was afraid to admit it..”

You didn’t let him finish as you land your lips over his in a most gentle kiss you’ve ever had. You felt him smiling through the kiss as he was grabbing you closer and pulling you into another and more intimate kiss.

-“Is that mean i have a second chance?”-he said with a hopeful smile between the kisses.

-“No”-you said furrowing your brows only to meet his confused gaze-“Just kidding, of course you have, i don’t wanna lose you again”-you chuckled as you put your arms on his chest and looked into his ocean eyes, thinking that maybe you are the lucky one and you will be able to find out what it is like to be loved by Ransom Drysdale.

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you

85 notes · View notes

moonofthenight · 3 years

Text

Petit Lion

A bit of Sirius and Harry bonding for you to cheer you up!

Universe belongs to the amazing @lumosinlove

CW mention of beverages and brief mentioning of food

“Do you really have to go?” said Sirius, pouting a bit, throwing his arms around Remus’ waist.

“I will be gone for a day not a week, baby. You will survive, there is enough to do,” Remus said with a glance over Sirius’ shoulder.

He stood on his tiptoes to give Sirius a last kiss before turning away, making his way out of the door.

“Behave and don’t set the house on fire.”

“Ha ha.”

Remus was still laughing when Sirius closed the door.

This was now four hours ago and Sirius had been doing chores all morning, trying to occupy himself with something to do. He spends so much time with Re it was weird when he wasn’t there, just like right now. James gifted Lily with a spar-day for two and she convinced Remus to go with her, leaving James and Sirius alone at home. He was too tired to do any more cleaning and most of the house was done anyway so he suited himself with a cup of tea, sitting down with a heavy sigh as he grabbed the old magazine that still laid on the table. He thought about doing a crossword but ended up skimming through the articles about the latest fashion trend and what is the best way to eat healthy. Nothing really interesting if you literally have someone who plans out what food you should or shouldn’t eat.

He was reading an article about Harry and Megan’s interview with Oprah when his phone started ringing, causing him to nearly spill his tea. He groaned as he stretched his back, making his way into the living room to accept the call.

The moment he picked up, Sirius nearly threw the phone away, far away from his ear.

“Pots?” he asked after a moment of recovering.

“Oh, thank god. Can you understand me?”

“Is that Harry? He has a really loud voice for his small body.”

“Believe me, I know. He hasn’t stopped crying for over an hour now. Please come over, I beg you. I would call Lily but you know, it’s her day off.”

Sirius chuckled a bit, “Sure thing super dad. I’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you Cap, I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing James, this is my godson, not some random child.”

And with that he hung up, jogging towards the bedroom to throw on a hoodie. He nearly slipped on his way to grab the car keys but caught himself just in time.

Thank you hockey, I guess

Sirius send Remus a quick text that he will be over at the Potter’s and that he should come there with Lily so they can drive home together before starting the car, driving out of the driveway. Sirius was on the front door of James’ house in no time, parking the car safely, making his way over towards the door. He didn’t even get the chance to knock, the door flying open revealing a stressed-out James and a crying Harry. James has never looked so thankful and relieved to see Sirius. He may have been a bit offended by that but now was clearly not the time.

“How is the little guy doing?”

“Still crying like a champion,” James answered while closing the door.

Sirius slipped out of his shoes, walking into the open kitchen, a dancing James following him.

“I tried everything. Skin-to-skin, food, a new diaper, dancing, cuddling, everything Cap,” James said, sounding a little desperate.

“Jamie calm down,” Sirius said with a smile, “Give him to me, take a shower, drink water. I’ll take care of it now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh my god, Pots! Give me my godson and go take care of yourself.”

Sirius didn’t even wait for an answer, taking Harry out of James’ arms, pressing him safely against his chest.

And after another second, Harry’s crying started to fade, his breath evening out, little hands grabbing the front of Sirius’ shirt and if he was really honest, Sirius’ heart never felt so light and proud at the same time. He smiled softly at the little person in his arms, rocking him from side to side.

“How- how did you do this. What sorcery is that?”

“It’s called the Black charm,” Sirius said with a smug grin.

“Outdone by the godfather, I can’t believe it,” James said, pouting but the relieve in his eyes gave him away.

“I think it’s my heartbeat,” Sirius whispered, tracing the back of Harry’s nose with his finger.

James looked at the two for a bit, feeling nothing but love and gratitude.

“You are good with him, you know? Have you and Re thought about own kids?”

There was a beat of silence where Sirius kept tracing Harry’s face before he looked up.

“Well, we had one talk about it and we both definitely want it in the future but… not now though,” Sirius’ voice got quieter in the end.

“Although, this little man really has me catching baby fever,” he added with a laugh.

“He loves you,” James said, making his way upstairs to jump into the shower.

“And I love him, you have no idea how much. To the moon and back mon petit lion.”

But these words were for Harry and for Harry only.

He carried a now sleeping baby into the living room and Sirius felt the day coming down on him too, so he laid down on the couch, placing Harry on his chest, securing him with his arm. He listened to the bathroom door, followed by footsteps that got louder and louder.

“Scoot over Cap,” James whispered and Sirius cracked an eye open, moving over for James to lay down beside him.

Lily and Re came home an hour later to James and Sirius curled up and intertwined on the sofa, Harry sleeping safely between them, their hearts filled with an endless amount of love.

And if they took a picture for this year’s Lion’s Christmas Cards, it was only for them to know. Well, at least until Christmas.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #coops #godfather sirius #rating g

115 notes · View notes

adezahnae · 3 years

Text

My Protector (Part 2)

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to Part 2 of My Protector. This chapter is a little bit long, I’m sorry😭

Warning: Action, cursing, fighting, shooting, stabbing, killing, hit men, mentions of poison, masturbation, fingering, secrets, toxic gas

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

Tagged People: @ahgasearmyfan @whoreforshuaaa

Your POV

We made it to the café where my friend waited. As we rode here, the silence was thick. It was just as thick as the tension between us. I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking of that moment. I would take glances at him every now and then. I took the opportunity to look at his outfit. His pants were black and baggy, his shirt was fitted and his shoes were black and combat boots. All of the leather on his body along with his weapons was an attractive sight I have to say...

He opened the door for me and helped me out. He closed the door behind me and followed behind me. Our car pulled off to park as we walked to the restaurant. “I saw you looking at me.” He said. I cleared my throat. “Really?” I asked a little bit timid. “Like I told you..if you want more... you can just ask..” He said. “I have a husband, you should stop.” I said facing him. He only chuckled and opened the door for me. “Sure you do..” He said. What does that mean?

I spot my friend at a table and I sat down. She smiled at me and gave me a hug. Her smile then dropped when she saw Ten sit down beside me. “Who’s this?” She asked. “This is my bodyguard Ten, Ten this Megan. One of my close friends.” I introduced. She held her hand out. “Hi Ten!” She said. He stared at her hand and slowly looked up at her. He leaned back in the booth. “Hm.” He hummed. She pulled her hand away with an awkward smile. “Sorry, he’s just not used to others.” I said. “It’s okay! Well Ten would you like to eat something? A drink? What would you like-“ “No offense ma’am but I don’t want to talk to you. I’m here to protect Y/n, not to conversate with someone. Especially if that someone is a person I don’t know nor trust.” Ten said bluntly.

I gasped. “Okay Ten, could you go and get me a drink? Please?” I asked. He looked at me and then at Megan. “Sure..” He said, eyeing her. He walked away and went to the bar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for him to just..” “Y/n it’s alright. He seems like a tough cookie to crack anyways. That’s good.” She said. I smiled. She called a waitress over to order. “Hi! I want an order of red wine and a salad. What would you like, Y/n?” She asked me. “I’ll have the same thing!” I said. “Okay, I’ll get your wine, right away.” The waiter said.

After a bit, our wine came and we clinked our glasses together. Just when I was about to drink it, Ten snatched it out my hand. “What are you doing?” He asked. “About to have drink, why?!” I asked a little furious. He gave me another glass. “This was the one I got you. Drink it.” He said. I was about to take it. “Wait- Y/n you’re really gonna let him tell you what to do?” She asked. “Well maybe it’s for the best, I mean there’s a lot of people around here that’s dangerous and-“ “You think I would order you something dangerous?” She asked.

“N-No! I’m just saying! My wine could have been contaminated with something.” Megan scoffed. “Just drink it! Nothing is wrong with it at all!” She said. I looked at her. “Why do you want me to drink it so bad?” I said. Megan leaned over the table and tried to grab the drink out of my hand. “Just drink the one I ordered for you.” She said. I leaned back. “Megan! What are you doing?!” I asked. She gripped my arm. “Put the damn drink down, Y/n.” She gritted through her teeth.

Ten looked at the drink and seen that had something floating in it. “Poison..” He whispered. Ten noticed her hand gripping your wrist making him go into protect mode. He took the drink in his hand and threw it towards Megan. She screamed out causing a scene. He threw the glass and punched her in her face. “TEN! WHAT THE HELL?!” Y/n yelled. He the spot two men in the corner, ready to pull out their guns.

“Y/n get down.” He said. “No! Why did you-“ “Damn it woman!” Ten pulled Y/n under the table and started to shoot at the two hit men. They both ran to where him and Y/n were. Ten came from underneath the table and dodge the bullet the man shot. He slid under the man’s legs and kicked him in his back. The guy behind aims his gun at Ten. Ten dodges the bullet and took the man behind him by his arm. He cracked it and took his gun from him, shooting him in head. Y/n screamed as the other approached her. Ten ran behind him, putting him in a headlock, kicking the back of his knee so that the man was on the ground and cracked his neck.

Meanwhile, Megan reached for the gun on the floor and shot Ten in his shoulder. “Ten!” Y/n exclaimed. “Bitch!” He yelled. He kicked her in the face, breaking her nose and grabbed her by the shirt. “Where is the woman who gave you the drink?” He gritted. Just as he asked, the girl gasped and ran back into the kitchen. He hit Megan in her head, making her fall unconscious. “Stay right here, I’ll be back.” He said to Y/n. She nod and hid under the table more. He ran back behind the counter jumping over it and finding the woman, trying to load up a gun. He kicked the gun from her hand kicked her on the floor. He aimed the gun at her.

“Who gave you the poison?” He asked. “No one!” She lied. He shot at the floor beside her head making her scream and cry. “I’m gonna ask again, who gave you the poison?” He asked again. She shook her head. He narrowed his eyes and shot her hand. She screamed out. He bent down to her level and gripped her hair, still aiming the gun. “I’d hate for this last bullet to be in your head now tell me who the fuck gave it to you?!” He gripped her hair tighter. “The boss!” She yelled. “Who is that?” He asked. “I can’t say...” She said. He shot her in the head and left her body there.

He came back out the kitchen to see two men aiming at him. He ducked behind the counter and shot from there. He could spot Y/n there, trembling of fear. His mind was only trained on her. He jumped from the counter and landed a kick to the men’s head. They both teamed up to fight him. He took his knife from his pants and stabbed one of the men in the leg while he twisted the other’s man arm. He took out his knife from the man’s leg to stab it in the guy’s chest, then yanking it out. One man down, the other to go.

Y/n watched the scene go down. She watched his moves and the way he moved. The way he fought for her life was somewhat..attractive she thinks? How his face was concentrated on the enemy’s moves and how he would encounter them so fast. She couldn’t lie...the way he shot at people and held a gun was really making her feel things that she shouldn’t.

The guy landed a punch to Ten’s face. He was about to hit him again, but Ten was too fast. He took his other arm and twisted that one as well. He picked up the gun from the floor and shot his neck. The man feel on the floor. Ten approached Y/n, helping her from under the table. She looked at him in astonishment.

“What...was that?” She couldn’t even find the right sentence. “That was me protecting you.” Ten replied. “Thank you..” She said bowing. I came back up and seen the shot wound in his arm. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” Y/n exclaimed. “I’m alright, go and get in the car.” Ten said holding his shoulder. Just then, there was smoke coming from vents, spreading quickly. Ten widened his eyes. “Y/n, let’s go!” He said. Y/n then start to cough and become dizzy. “No, No, No...” Ten mumbled.

He picked her up just before she fell and grabbed her things. He ran out the door seeing the car pulled up at the front. He rushed Y/n in before she could die. He closed the door behind him and breathed out. He breathed the clear air. “Y/n.” He called. No response. He turned to her quickly. “Y/n?! Y/n!! Wake up, come on. Y/n?! Drive to her house faster!” Ten yelled. “But, there’s-“ “I don’t give a damn about this car’s supply, she’s needs to be home! NOW!” Ten yelled. The car speed up and ran lights and stop signs.

They finally reached home and everyone in the car helped Y/n out the car. Ten ran into the house and went straight to her bathroom. He found her inhaler and he gave it to her. “Come on..wake up..” He mumbled. He then heard her coughing and breathing. He pulled her up to let her breathe. After she was okay, she fell back asleep. He sighed out in relief as he watched her breathe in her sleep. He got up and took off her shoes and jacket carefully. He placed them down and covered her inside her blankets.

He left the room and he heard her phone ringing in her purse. He picked it up. “Hellwo? Mommy?” He heard on the other side. “Hello?” He responded. “Who are you? Where’s my mommy? I want to talk to mommy.” The little girl said. “M-Mommy’s asleep right now, who are you?” He asked. “Hi, this is Y/n’s mother. Where’s my daughter and who are you?” The woman said. “Well I’m Y/n’s bodyguard and right now Y/n is resting. There was a shoot out at restaurant today that she was involved in and she’s exhausted.” Ten explained.

“Thank you for protecting my daughter, really! Her husband is never around for this stuff.” She exclaimed. “Yeah I see.” Ten said. “I don’t know if you know about kids but I’m dropping off Bailey now and I have to work. I’m sorry if this gives you any trouble.” Her mother explained. “No, it’s completely fine. She’ll be safe with me.” Ten said. “Thank you, so much!” Her mother said. They hung up the call and five minutes later, there was the door opening.

A little girl walked around the corner. “Mommy? Mommyyy?” She called. Ten went downstairs and seen her wondering around. “Are you Bailey?” He asked her. “Hellwo sir, where’s my mommy?” She asked. “Uhhh she’s sleeping. I don’t want you to disturb her okay?” He told her. “Okay..can you pway with me?” She asked. “What?” He replied. “Pway with me, I got some wew dollies and my mommy’s not up to pway, so you have to.” She explained. He looked at her eyes and seen a reflection of Y/n in them. How cute was she? “Okay, I’ll play with you. But only five minutes.” Ten said.

She led him upstairs to her room and seen that it was a typical child’s room. Pink walls, pink bed, pink...everything... “Do you wike my room?” She asked. “Yes, it’s cute. Like you.” Ten said. “Tank you!!” She smiled. She smiled like Y/n. “Wow..you look exactly like your mom.” Ten said sitting on the bed. “I lot of pweople say tat.” She said pulling out more dolls from her toy box. She sat on the floor and handed Ten a doll. “This is my mommy’s favowite dollie. She says it wooks wike me.” Bailey said. “It does, doesn’t it?” Ten responded. He watched her as she played. “How old are you Bailey?” Ten asked. “I’m thwee.” She said holding up two fingers. Ten smiled and held up three fingers. “It’s like this, not this.” He said demonstrating. She looked at her fingers. “Thwee?” She asked holding up three fingers now. “Yes, three.” He smiled.

She giggled and played with her dolls again. “Thwee..” She mumbled while practicing it. He couldn’t help but to giggle at her cuteness. He then felt a slight pain in his shoulder. He forgot that he was shot during the incident. He got up from the bed. “Okay, Bailey you stay right here. I’ll be back.” Ten said. “Otay..” She mumbled still playing. He closed her door and went to Y/n bedroom. He seen that she was still asleep and went into the bathroom.

He seen that there were bandages and medicine for his wound. He took off his shirt and winced as he applied the medicine. After he did, he tore the bandages and wrapped his arm. He then hears someone approaching. “Oh!! T-Ten..” Y/n said.

Your POV

I woke up from the nap I took and heard someone in the bathroom. I thought it was my husband so I went inside. Then I seen that it was Ten. “Oh!! T-Ten..” I said. I seen that he didn’t have on a shirt. A tattoo on his arm showing along with the one on his chest. I blinked while looking at his body. He had it all...handsome face, amazing fighting skills, and now an amazing body. I was finally pulled away from my thoughts when I heard his voice.

“Are you gonna sit there and fuck me with your eyes or are you gonna answer my question?” He asked with arms crossed. “Umm..what did you ask?” I asked. “I said, are you alright?” He repeated. Not with your body out like this. “Y-Yeah! I’m fine..” I said. He hummed and put his shirt back on. “Are you? I mean...” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll always be alright as long as you are.” He said, fixing his shirt now.

“Thank you..for saving me. I would’ve been a dead woman without you.” I said. “Your welcome.” He said. “And your mother called earlier.” He said. I gasped. “Oh my god! My-“ “Calm down, she’s in her room with her dolls. She’s alright.” Ten said. I breathed out. “Thank you!” I said. He nod. “I’ll go and check on her.” He said. I nodded. “Okay..I’ll shower.” I said. He walked out of the room and left me there. I cut on the hot water and undressed myself. I climbed in and let the water hit my body. I sighed of relief. Today was a scary and hard day. I was almost shot at and almost died for breathing in gas.

If it wasn’t for Ten, I’d really be dead. I have no knowledge of self protection. Luckily, he’s here to protect me. My thoughts traveled back to Ten at the restaurant. Even though he killed some people because they tried to kill me, I don’t know why I found that attractive. He was very skilled with hands, feet, knifes and guns. His care for me as well...when I was a little bit unconscious, I heard him mumbling my name.

I haven’t anyone care for me in a way like that in a while. Lastly, his body....wow...his body just now was something I couldn’t get out my head. I felt my hand moved to my folds, touching over them and rubbing them. I sighed and bit my lip. I moved my fingers in circles, feeling the pleasure. My mind was clouded with Ten. I moaned out. “Ten...” I whispered. I gripped my breast, remembering the moment where he did the same. “If you want more..all you have to do is ask...” His words echoed through my head. Should I take up on that? “Ten.” I moaned a little louder. “More...I want more...” I whispered to myself, now slipping my fingers in my wet heat.

Ten’s POV

I was playing with Bailey and talking to her. “Ten? I’m hungwry..” She mumbled. “Let me go and talk to your mom. Stay right here.” I said. This child is too cute, sometimes I don’t want to leave her alone. She’s just like Y/n. Even though it’s only been the first day with Y/n, I’ve known her for a while. I didn’t do as much of stalking her, just..watching her from a distance. I was originally supposed to kill Y/n but instead fell in love with her.

I lied and said that I was going to be her bodyguard and to kill her then, but I only did this because I want to be with her. Her husband was a very old friend of mine. He was a just a regular kid until his parents built a company. He then became a rich little shit. He left me alone and went to go hang out with other people that bullied me. I was always an outcast in school, hell I still am. They always thought of me as an easy target and a push over.

I wasn’t really raised by my parents, just my grandmother who passed away a year ago. She was my first love I have to say. Y/n is my second. I then joined classes that involved violence. I graduated from high school and went with these group of guys that trained me to be an assassin. To be honest, I’m surprised that bastard doesn’t even know that it’s me.

I reached the door of Y/n bedroom and enter, just as I was walking I heard her moaning. I crept into the doorway of the bathroom and heard her more. “Ten...More..I want more...” She moaned to herself. I smirked and walked away from the door. I knew she wanted me... “Okay, if you want more, then I’ll give you more...” I said to myself.

#ten smut #ten x reader #ten nct #wayv ten #nct smut #nct x reader #wayv smut #wayv x reader

70 notes · View notes

lahyene · 4 years

Text

A Hollywood Love Story.

Pairing: young!chris evans x reader

Summary: Making it in Hollywood is hard, and when you run into the up and coming Chris Evans at a party, you can’t help but be a little intrigued by the frat boy vibes he practically emanates. You never knew you’d actually fall in love with him while both of you climb the ladder to the top.

Themes: romance, fluff, alcohol, smoking

Word count: 2208

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, your crop top barely covering your breasts and your shorts practically the size of underwear. As a girl must dress if she’s trying to make it big in Hollywood, being nothing but an Instagram model. Cigarette in your mouth, you take a drag and let the smoke blow out rather close to the face of the man who’s desperately trying to chat you up right now, but you couldn’t care less as your eyes wander the scene of this house party. You’re here to network, to find connections. If you can’t make this work, you’re going to have to move back home and that’s the last thing you want after being exposed to so much freedom.

You saw him the second you walked into this party. He hasn’t quite made it big yet, but he’s probably the most famous one here. Chris Evans. He’s appeared in a few movies, nothing blockbuster, though he’s very well known for his incredibly handsome features and well defined body. You’re sure the two of you have more in common than one would think, being seen more so for your appearance than your personality or talent. People assume you to be trashy and shallow, but they don’t realize that in this world, you have to come off that way in the beginning. No one’s going to wait around to get to know you or the level of depth you have. It’s all about your looks until you finally make it.

When you last saw him, he was on the couch with a girl on either side of him, taking turns making out with each. You’ve heard he’s quite the party boy, dabbling in drugs and alcohol, and practically drowning in female companionship. You thought he was dating Jessica Biel, but seeing his tongue shoved down this blonde’s throat as his hand snakes up the thigh of the brunette, you figure they’re not as committed or exclusive as they let on.

Quite honestly, you’re not interested in him in terms of networking. He isn’t going to do you any favors, he’s probably in a phase where he needs to look out for himself before anyone else. And you completely understand. It’s what Hollywood does to you-- makes you selfish, desperate, twisted. You know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but damn, is it a long tunnel.

You’ve barely even realized the male in front of you is still talking. You’re about to shut him down when you see Chris enter the kitchen, without his little playthings, surprisingly enough. The two of you make eye contact. You don’t even have to try; you can already tell he’s intrigued. You aren’t sure whether that’s flattering or concerning. He seems like he’d be intrigued by a hobo, as long as said hobo were to have a vagina. He walks over to you with a gait of confidence, corner of his lips already tugging upwards. He steps in right next to the man, his presence shutting him up.

“Hey there. Haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You take another drag as you listen to him, your expression barely changing. This time, you turn your head to blow the smoke out before looking to him again. “Y/N.” You tap the cigarette in the ashtray next to you, arching an eyebrow. “And you’re Chris, if I’m not mistaken? It’s nice to meet you.”

“So you already know who I am.” He states, and you’re almost amused by that arrogant twinkle in his eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Y/N.” The male standing next to him finally speaks up in annoyance, “Excuse me, I was in the middle of a conversation with-”

“It’s not a conversation if only one person is talking.” You cut him off, disposing of the cigarette entirely before handing him your empty cup. “Make yourself useful and toss this out for me, would you?” He scoffs incredulously but takes it, grumbling as he walks away. Chris looks at you with a grin, clucking his tongue. “Damn, baby girl. Ice cold. Not that I can blame you, you looked bored as fuck sitting over here.”

“Were you watching me?” you ask innocently, your voice silky as you gaze up at him. His eyes are gorgeous, you have to give him that. His whole face is, really. As much as you’d love to say that he’s overrated, you can’t. He’s handsome, and he knows it. “A little bit, yeah.” He admits shamelessly, glancing back to the spot where he was sitting on the couch, the area slightly visible from where you are in the kitchen. “Those little kittens over there are great and all, but… I dunno. Something about you is more appealing.” He looks back at you and smirks, continuing, “Probably the fact that everything about your beauty is natural.”

He’s right, but you imagine he probably says this to even the most Botox-ed of Hollywood women.

“Thank you.” You practically purr nonetheless with a small smirk. “Wanna step outside with me for a bit? It’s getting kind of hot in here.”

“Sure. Let me grab us a drink too. What do you want?”

“A beer’s fine, thanks.”

His eyes practically light up, his smirk growing wider. “Oh, yeah? Damn, I’ve never met a girl at one of these parties that drinks beer. Always complaining about how it’s going to make them fat or whatever.”

You shrugged nonchalantly as you slid down from the counter, tapping your lightly toned stomach. “Fast metabolism, I guess. Those fruity cocktails and shit have way too much sugar, I’d probably get less sick if I just drank rubbing alcohol. Beer’s good.”

He laughs and you can tell he’s already impressed. You feel strangely good about this. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll meet you out on the deck.”

____________________

It’s a whirlwind of a romance.

You never thought this would happen to you. You constantly hear about celebrities getting together after knowing each other for ten seconds, getting married after dating for eleven. You’d scoff at the thought. That’s infatuation, not love.

Now as you’re holding Chris’ hand as he uses his other one to shield you from the lights of the paparazzi cameras flashing in your face, you wonder how the hell you got here. Going on dates every week, spending the night at whomever’s place is closest- you’ve even Facetimed his parents a few times, for God’s sake, and you’ve only been dating for three months.

You haven’t told him you love him yet, nor has he told you. You’re not ready for that. He’s clearly still dripping in the residue from his playboy days, and you’ve simply always had a difficult time with… well, emotions.

It’s the main cause behind any arguments you two have. While he still has a very frat boy-esque mentality, he’s also very sensitive to feelings. He’s a romantic at heart; he’s like an open book, and he surprisingly has no problem being vulnerable. You, on the other hand, keep everything bottled up. It’s what you’re used to.

Still, you make it work. You’ve never been in a relationship that feels so serious. Even the arguments only furthermore make it seem real, like you've been dating for years rather than a few months.

The two of you finally approach the gate of the apartment complex, entering as you let out a little breath upon being free from the paparazzi’s clutches. “I don’t know how you deal with this everyday.” You shake your head, barely laughing. “It’s exhausting.” He chuckles and guides you inside, raising a brow. “Well, baby doll, it’s going to be your life pretty soon now that you’ve found yourself an agent- you know that, right?”

You can’t hold back your smile, even though you’ve been strictly telling yourself not to keep your hopes up. “I don’t have one yet, it’s just a meeting. I can’t get too excited!” He scoffs and suddenly grabs your waist, playfully tackling you down onto the couch as you squeal. “Well, I’m going to be excited for you then. C’mon baby, look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you’ve been gaining more and more followers by the second. And the agency reached out to you first to set up a meeting, you didn’t even have to send your headshots in. You know how good of a sign that is?” He playfully starts tickling your sides and you practically shriek in laughter, squirming through your giggles. “Chris!!”

He finally stops and you exhale, breathless but smiling as you reach up and hold his face lightly. “You really think I’ll make it big one day? That I’ll eventually be walking that runway during Paris Fashion Week?”

“Hell yeah I do, cupcake.” He murmurs, leaning down to peck your lips, “And I’m going to be sitting front row at every single fucking show.” You smile, briefly shutting your eyes before opening them again as you trail your fingertips along the stubble of his jawline. “Oh, yeah? What if you forget all about me because you’ll be a big Hollywood star by then? What if you show up front row, sitting next to your girlfriend Megan Fox?” He blinks and laughs deeply, moving his mouth down to kiss at your neck. “Mm… I’d be watching you walk that runway and dump her right then and there to beg for you back, that’s what.” You hum softly in delight as he nibbles on your sensitive skin, his husky voice continuing, “But you know that’s not going to happen, right baby? I can’t imagine doing this whole Hollywood thing without you by my side. You support me so much, and I want to do the same for you. I just… have a really good feeling about this relationship.”

You lightly move his head to look up into his eyes, reading his expression. He looks nothing but genuine.

“Me too.” You whisper, caressing his cheek lightly with your thumb. “I think we’re both gonna make it big one day. And we’ll be doing it together.”

____________________

“He was my first.” You laugh softly as you wipe at your eyes, looking up towards the ceiling of the lavish five star hotel room as if that will stop the tears from returning. “I was only eighteen when we met. Still new to LA, only had a few thousand followers on Instagram. God, why am I crying right now?”

Your friend Taylor hands you a tissue, shaking her head. “It’s okay to cry sometimes, you know. It’s good to have feelings.”

You scoff through the tears, taking the tissue and wiping at your wet eyes. “I just can’t believe everything we’ve gone through. Me becoming an international model, him becoming Captain freakin’ America, adopting a dog together, traveling the world together for his press conferences and my photoshoots, meeting each other’s families…” You sniff, finally letting a tear actually slide down your cheek. “Do you remember when I had to get an appendectomy? And I was so fucking freaked out about the surgery, I had never had one before- but he was there with me the entire time I was recovering. He even told the director of Gifted that he needed a few days off.”

“Yes, Y/N, we remember.” Jasmine sighs, handing you a glass of wine. “Drink up girly, you clearly need it tonight.” Candice raises an eyebrow, questioning, “Hasn’t she drank enough? I think that’s why the crying is happening…”

“And we even talked about having kids together. We just knew we’d make it, you know? That our relationship would last forever. It wasn’t delusional, we knew it.” You sniff, taking the wine nonetheless as you take a sip. “Oh my God, remember when I had that pregnancy scare? And it looked like I’d be having a baby, and I was so nervous to tell him, but when I did he was so fucking ecstatic. Guys, he was so happy. Literally jumping for joy. He told me he wanted nothing more than to have a baby with me, even though we hadn’t planned for one that early.”

“Well, thank God you weren’t actually pregnant,” Meng pipes up, a glass of wine in one hand as she goes to open your closet door with the other. “Because then shopping for this would have been a lot more difficult with a baby bump.” She pulls out the wedding dress, playfully moving it from side to side in front of her body. All the girls immediately laugh, cheering as they raise their glasses. “Hell, yeah! Our girl’s getting married to the love of her life tomorrow!”

You giggle through your tears. Your happy tears, to be exact.

“C’mon, Y/N, stop crying already!” Elsa laughs, shaking your shoulders lightly. “You’re acting like Chris dumped you!” You laugh too, wiping at your eyes. “I can’t help but be a little emotional, okay? God, this is his fault. I never used to be such a crybaby until I met him.” You lift up your glass for another toast as you smile widely. “To the best damn bridesmaids in the world. Thank you for dealing with my sensitive ass during this whole marriage process.”

“Anything for you, soon-to-be Mrs. Evans!”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #writing

286 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Question

The Pool | The Difference | The Notes | The Fear | The Thought | Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Explicit - 18+ only Warnings: None? Besides cursing. Notes: Fluffy! Fluffy! Most of these going forward are going to be fluffy. Most. Summary: How the hell does this man still give you butterflies? You’re flustered in the middle of your own damn kitchen and he isn’t even there.

You wake up alone. You don’t like that, but it happens sometimes. You and Borracho don’t exactly have regular hours, it’s not like criminals keep their shenanigans to a 9-5 schedule. You used to be a light sleeper when it came to sleeping with someone else, but with Borracho… Hell, you don’t know if it’s how quietly he’s able to move or how safe you feel with him, but you almost never wake up when he gets out of bed. You pick up your phone and shut off the alarm; no texts, no calls from him or the guys, so things are probably status quo. You don’t have to be in the office for another hour. You slide out of bed and head into the kitchen. You’re alone, but you still smile when you see that he’s made you coffee and left you a post-it. ‘Got called into work early. See you later. Love you, sweetness. -B’

You shake your head a little bit, running your thumb over the ink. How the hell does this man still give you butterflies? You’re flustered in the middle of your own damn kitchen and he isn’t even there. Oh, but you can practically hear him saying it, too. And the fact that he even stopped to write a note-- You shake your head and stick it to the fridge under a magnet, alongside a few other notes he’s left you in the apartment. You’re smiling all through your first cup of coffee, as you get ready to go in, as you get in your car that morning. You usually try not to text Borracho when you know he’s out on the job - you don’t wanna distract him, and there’s a chance the guys’ll see it and get on both your cases, but you decide to risk it that morning. You pull your phone out and text him, I love you

It’s a few minutes before you get back, Wanna go out tonight? You raise a brow. Is this man up to something?

Big plans? taking us on a tour of a hot sauce factory

I’m pretty sure you’re making fun of me and I don’t appreciate it.

love you

Love you too --

It’s the usual crew at the office - though Borracho is noticeably absent. You don’t ask, is the thing, but Nick makes it a point to tell you that Borracho is out getting a statement from a witness. You nod a little bit and say, “...Okay,” Before turning back to your work. You swear up and down that you hear Henderson asking Conners if you bought that, but you try not to read into it. You’re sure you heard them wrong; if something was wrong with Borracho, they’d tell you. Besides, you’ve already talked to him today, you know he’s alright. But while you’re in the office, you notice the guys muttering to each other way more than usual. You can’t help but wonder if this is what they would’ve been like if you’d left your headphones out those first couple of weeks on the job. Headphones-- Your headphones, of course. The second you’ve got those suckers in, the guys’ll speak up at full volume. You open the desk drawer that you usually keep them in. Your jaw drops at the sight of another post-it.

Looking for something? ;) -B You’d told Borracho that you found out about most of the pools because of your little headphone trick. But why the hell has he taken them today? You close your drawer, narrowing your eyes. Oh, something is definitely up. -- “Really, you haven’t seen him all day?” Isobel asks. You glance up from where you’re bouncing her son on your knee. You’ve stopped by after work; you’ve got a little time before you need to be home to get ready. “Nope,” You shrug, “He got called into work early, and-- I don’t know, Nick said he was out speaking to a witness. We texted a little, but he’s been pretty busy today. We’re going out later, though.” “Ooo,” Nadia coos from behind you, where she’s feeding Lissie, “Do you know where?” “No idea, he hasn’t told me… I mean, he joked about a hot sauce factory, but the ones around here don’t have late tours.” You may or may not have checked while you were at work. His sisters are snickering at you already; they’ve seen you at barbecues, they know about the hot sauce packets you keep in your purse. You smile, laughing a little yourself. “It’ll be nice to go out, though. We haven’t had, like, a date-date in a while,” You realize it as you say so. Honestly, you haven’t really thought much of it; it’s not like you mind spending the night in with Borracho, you’re never bored. “...You know, you’re the first girl Borracho brought home in a really long time?” Nadia says, lowering herself into the seat beside Isobel. You raise a brow. You haven’t heard this before. “Really? How long?” “Oof,” Isobel mutters, “Jeez, the last would’ve been-- What, Angela?” “Which one was Angela? Highlights or lip piercing?” Nadia asks. “Lip piercing.” “Like, almost four years-ish?” Nadia offers. “‘Lip piercing’?” You repeat, amused, “I think I’ve got more questions about who ‘highlights’ was-- And what my attribute would be if you were describing me to someone else.” -- “No wig tonight?” You glance back at Borracho, arching a brow as he leans in the doorway of the bathroom. The pink wig you’d worn to the club a long time ago has made a reappearance a few times since you’d started dating. “Not tonight, babe,” You chuckle before you lean forward to do your eyeliner. You lean away from the mirror once you're finished, putting the cap back on the liner. Borracho steps into the bathroom, smoothing his hands over your hips. He presses a kiss to your neck before he cuddles up against you. You giggle, tipping your head to the side. “Maybe next time,” You add.

“I ain’t picky,” Borracho mumbles. You turn in his arms. “Gimme a kiss before I put my lipstick on,” You order. Borracho smiles.

“You sayin’ you’re not gonna kiss me once it’s on?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely gonna. Kiss me anyway,” You retort. You lean up, pecking Borracho’s lips a few times. His smile widens with each until he catches your lips with his. He lifts a hand from your hip, sliding it over your back. You sigh, leaning into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. You aren’t sure what it is, but something feels different about tonight. It isn’t how Borracho watched you get ready; he does that often. But this just feels sweet - so deliciously soft and slow. You can’t put your finger on it - but you aren’t rushing to, either. You just revel in Borracho’s warmth and closeness. He hums softly, squeezing your hip gently before he lifts his head, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Finish getting ready, we’ll be late.”

“Or you could keep kissing me,” you mumble the argument against his chin. Borracho chuckles, cupping your chin and pecking your lips again.

“Later, sweetness.” -- “You don’t think we’re actually going to a hot sauce factory, right?” “No, of course not,” You scoff. “...You checked whether or not there were any open, didn’t you.” “...Might’ve taken a look.” Boraccho laughs, raising your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. “Why?” You add, glancing over at him. “Couldn’t bear to break your heart like that.” --

The thing is, you guys had discussed it a few more times - the whole marriage thing. You’d never set a hard date, a deadline. You weren’t going to disappear if a ring wasn’t stuck on your finger within the next year or anything. But the last time you’d spoken about it seriously had been after Borracho had been shot. “I hated not being able to get back there and see you were alright for myself,” You’d admitted, “And-- Look, I love your family, but-- If anything like that ever happens again and they make me wait three fucking days to see you, Benny, I swear to god--” “I know,” He’d mumbled into your hair, “I know, and-- this is gonna sound shitty, but they were testing you, a little. I’ve had a couple of other girlfriends that saw me that way and couldn’t handle it. They wanted to see if you’d stick around.” You’d humphed, and snuggled deeper into his side. And he’d hesitated before saying, “If we were married, you would’ve been able to see me right away.” You’d glanced up at him and murmured, “I know.” “...Still think my sisters would kill us if we eloped?” “You know they would.” -- Beyond that, well, you hadn’t spoken about it much. At least, not with Borracho. You had with his sisters, looking back on it - about what kind of rings you liked (Megan and Isobel had each asked you if you liked theirs - Megan’s was a little too flashy for you; Isobel’s was close to what you liked in stone and size). You’d even tried Regina’s on (“For fun, honey, I’m curious,” She’d pressed you. It had been half a size too small). You didn’t think anything about it, though. You’d grown incredibly close with his family. “Aw, so sweet!” Nadia had cooed, seeing someone on tv propose to their girlfriend on the big screen at a football game, “Would you ever like something like that?” “Nah,” You’d wrinkled your nose, shaking your head, “So impersonal -- all those people staring at you. Plus-- Football?” The face you’d made had Nadia in stitches.

The two of you have dinner at one of your favorite restaurants. Borracho’s hand is in yours nearly all night, holding it in the car, on the table, on the way in and out of the restaurant. After dinner, the two of you drive up to the Hollywood Bowl Overlook. He shuts off the car, and the two of you talk and make out lazily like a couple of teenagers. His hand smooths over your thighs and your stomach and your shoulder and your side; you tug at his hair and slide your hand under his collar and smooth your fingers over his tattoo. It’s like you were when you were getting ready - sweet, unhurried, soft. But you want to be home, and you want to take him apart at your leisure, without worrying about getting caught or being crammed uncomfortably in the front seat of the car, and you tell him as much. Borracho chuckles softly and slides his lips along yours in a half-kiss before murmuring, “Whatever you want, sweetness.”

You cuddle up against him as you wait for him to unlock the front door, slipping your hands under his t-shirt and running your nails over his sides. He huffs and fumbles with the keys a little, and you hide your grin in his shoulder.

“Having some trouble there?” You tease, smoothing your palms over the same spots.

“You’re a menace, sweetness,” He mutters before opening the door. You slide your hands out from his shirt so that the two of you can make it inside without any further incident. The door gets shut and locked, the hall light flicked on, and you’re already reaching for him again. He cups your cheeks, sweeping his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“Hey,” He murmurs.

“Mm?”

“I’ve-- Been thinking,” He manages between kisses, even as you’re trying to nudge him back toward the bedroom.

“Uh-oh,” You tease before nipping at his lip. Borracho laughs, leaning away to look at you.

“Listen to me,” He murmurs after a moment. Your brow furrows a little, and his finger reaches up to smooth away the little wrinkle before he chases the touch with a kiss.

“How long have we been together, huh?”

“Almost two years,” You say, letting your hands settle on his shoulders.

“The guys...They started betting whether or not you’d be able to stick through the week,” He shakes his head, and you bite your lips, because you know that they did, those ridiculous idiots, “But you stuck through -- all week, all month, all year and you’re still here… The second I knew you’d stick around here, though, with me,” he squeezes your hips, “Was that night, after I’d been coordinating with the FBI. You came over, you stayed, and... And I knew I didn’t want you to go…”

Usually by now you’d cut in, make a joke, but there’s something different about the way Borracho is looking down at you. So you just listen, smooth your fingers over the fabric of his shirt because even now, you can’t keep still.

“And I know that sometimes my family can be a lot-- And so can work--” He’s talking about when he was shot and you both know it. Your stomach turns at the reminder and you lower your eyes. He cups your chin and lifts your eyes to his again, “But I can’t imagine waking up without you, or-- Or coming home without you here… And I know you were worried when I was hurt. I hate that you couldn’t see me right away, and I don’t ever want you to have to go through that again... I love you, sweetness, and I know you love me.”

“‘Course I love you, Benny,” You manage after a moment, eyes searching his. He smiles, nudging his nose against yours. You’re distracted, leaning up into the motion, and you don’t notice him reaching into his pocket.

You frown as he leans away, but that frown melts into shock as he sinks to one knee, small velvet box in hand.

He opens it.

“Will you marry me, sweetness?”

You don’t know if you’re supposed to look at him or the ring-- and then you realized you haven’t said anything, but you’re nodding and your eyes are tearing up. You manage to get out, “Of course I’ll marry you.”

And Borracho’s face splits into the widest grin. He pulls the ring out of the box and slips it onto your proffered left ring finger -- and then laughs as you tug him up from the floor. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your face into his neck. He’s holding onto you, too, tight and steady, and pressing kisses to your cheek, your ear, your head, your shoulder - anywhere you can reach.

You turn your head to meet his lips, curling close to him, and he finally lets you steer him back toward your room.

-- "Why did you take my headphones?” You ask later. Borracho has his head on your stomach. He’s been nuzzling contentedly for the last few minutes, dropping the odd kiss to your stomach or hip, touchy in your afterglow. “Didn’t want you listening in on the guys,” He murmurs, “Didn’t want them spoiling it.” “Why’d you have Nick tell me where you were?” “Did you ask him?” “No, he just came over and told me.” Borracho scoffs, shaking his head, “Told him to only tell you if he asked.” “The rest’a the guys weren’t all that subtle, either. Kept whispering.” “And that’s why I took your headphones.” You chuckle, sweeping his hair away from his forehead. “You know me too well, baby.” You lift your hand and eye the ring, unable to help the smile that grows on your face. Borracho turns his head, kissing your wrist. “You like it?” He asks. “I love it,” You swear, lowering your hand to stroke his cheek, “And I love you.” You’ve lost track of how many times the two of you have said it in the last couple of hours. You know that tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to start thinking about planning. You’re going to call your parents to give them the news. You’re going to be going over to Isobel’s for breakfast with the family, too, and you know you’re going to hear all about how long they’ve known about Borracho’s plan. And then the wedding planning, the ideas for the wedding that they’ve probably had for months, the fact that you’re gonna have four flower girls and three little ring bearers from Borracho’s nieces and nephews alone. You don’t have to worry about that for a few hours yet. All you care about is the man leaning up for another kiss, another two kisses, another three kisses. You curl your arms around his shoulders and squeeze his hips with your knees as he murmurs, “I love you, too, Mrs. Magalon,” Against your lips.

#Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/You #Benny Borracho/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #The Pool #The Question #den of thieves

105 notes · View notes

imnotwolverine · 3 years

Text

The Accidental Family - I am..WHAT?!

Henry Cavill x OFC Phoebe (Bee)

Warnings: mentions of smut, strong language, unplanned pregnancy, sad fluff

Word count: 2.414

Author’s note: OKAY..one more to finish the year. I’m writing this while frying oliebollen (Dutch dough balls we eat during festivities) and my fingers are all sticky and sweet, but hey; I can’t leave you readers hanging on the last day of this miserable year! Kisses 😘

(Link to my Masterlist)

Phoebe was done with it all. Done with this week; done with the slump that was her life right now. She just worked through a week with three over-time shifts at the hospital, some annoyances with her new IUD and Leon. Fucking-fucktard Leon.

But tonight she was going to be a big girl and suck it up, because heck; she was a good friend and tonight was Megan’s night. After long years of hard toil and shitty side-jobs, Megan had MADE it. She had gotten her first serious acting gig and tonight was the premiere, to which Phoebe would be her +1.

Single girls unite.

Sighing, Phoebe leaned into her make-up mirror, applying a coat of lipgloss to her pursed lips, heavy eyelashes fluttering. She never wore this much make-up, but it seemed like a thing you did when you went to such a fancy party. An A-lister party. Would Meryl Streep be there? She always had wanted to meet Meryl Streep.

Smacking her lips to feel the stickiness of her lipgloss - why did people like wearing this crap? -, she moved out to the hall of her small apartment where she heard the intercom buzz. Alright. Showtime.

‘Coming!’ She called to nobody in particular, hastily looking over the rows of shoes that were messily stacked by her door. Heels - heels - heels. And that scarf. Leon’s scarf. “Accidentally” left behind after he had come over to finally pick up the last of his things. She couldn’t stand the sight of it, and if it were a “good girl thing” to do, she’d shove it down the trash right now - like the trash he was. Cheater.

*tringgg*

Hurry! -- Okay, shoes! Purple, brown, practical, no - no - no.. And then her eye fell on the perhaps a bit painful, but very much sexy heels she had once bought to wear for her 6th anniversary with Leon. Fuck-Me-Pumps. With silvery diamond straps and all. He hadn’t given two damns about them, about her dreams she had tried to talk about during that dinner - kids - but then again, Phoebe learned a year later why that was; CHEATER.

‘Please bring me luck, babies.’ Phoebe mumbled, picking up the intercom that buzzed again. ‘Just putting on my shoes. Down in a minute.’

‘Alright m’am.’ A deep voice responded politely.

Was that the driver? It must be the driver! They had a driver?! OH MEGAN, YOU!

Excitement started to bubble in Phoebe’s tired bones as she realised that perhaps for tonight, things could be fun - painful shoes and all.

Show-time.

The water boiler gurgled lazily on the countertop, two pairs of eyes staring down at it, willing it to go faster.

‘You didn’t respond to my text.’ Henry tried to keep a casual tone, but even with all his acting experience, the hurt was evident as his blue eyes swiftly moved over to Phoebe, who that had just knocked on his door after 3 months of radio silence.

‘Yea...’ Phoebe cleared her throat and awkwardly leaned into the opposite kitchen counter Henry was leaning into. The tension was tangible and for a moment she scolded herself for pushing Megan to find out Henry’s address.

‘..some..stuff happened.’

‘Is this the point where you’re going to tell me you’re married and your husband found out?’

Phoebe’s eyes widened and a chuckle escaped her lips, making Henry frown. ‘That might have just made all this a bit easier. But eh..no. I ..’

‘FEEEEBBsss where WEREEEE youu. Oh my god. Have you met..’ Phoebe could barely manage to stay balanced on her high heels as Megan’s hand dragged her away from the toilets - away from him - and onto one of the far corners of the crowded room where some mildly creepy man was waving at Megan. Megan waved back, but Phoebe could only focus on the burst of white camera flashes behind her, her eyes wishing to look if he followed.

But Megan’s grip was tight and Phoebe was perhaps three shot glasses too drunk to stay on her feet AND look over her shoulder - the deep pink blush on her cheeks betraying that something was going on.

‘..so I had this super fun chat with Michael. You know Michael right? I mean he was crazyyy excited about..Phoebe? Earth to Phoebe!’ Megan’s neatly manicured nail prodded into Phoebe’s silvery dress, awakening the blond woman from her over-shoulder stare when they finally had halted.

‘Wh-what? Hi! Sorry. Eh..’ Instantly the deep pink worsened on Phoebe’s cheeks as Megan shot her one unbelieving wild eyed stare - she knew. Oh fuck, she knew.

‘You know what - if you’d excuse us for a moment.’ Megan smiled charmingly at the old man that was checking her out for all the wrong reasons.

Again Megan’s hand pulled on her arm, but this time they travelled less far, walking out to a more quiet area guarded by some heavy red curtains which offered a walkway for the staff who much resembled an army of tuxedo clad ants moving large trays of fizz around.

‘You are 50 shades of red, hun.’ Megan chuckled, wiping some mildly smudged lipgloss from Phoebe’s chin.

‘Oh, woops.’ Phoebe quickly mimicked the wipe on her chin, but the sticky residue was already gone - though other sticky residue on some other lips were most definitely still there.

Shit, she had to get cleaned up fast. She wasn’t even wearing any PANTIES. DAMMIT. Oh my...how..why..Wobbling dangerously on her heels again, Phoebe lurched for one of the walls, a sudden wave of nausea coming over her as her red cheeks turned bitter green.

‘Awh shit Feebs. You OK? Eh..Ehhhhh...’ Nervously Megan looked around the stretch of the hallway, black and white tuxedos cruising deftly around with the patterns of a well-practised champagne carrying dance.

‘Pfff...’ Phoebe tried to breath in deeply, inhaling whatever air she could muster in her suddenly claustrophobically tight lungs. Oh what did she do?!!! OH NO. Oh Christ. Good girls don’t shag in toilet stalls. Good girls don’t... ‘Pff - pff -pff’ With short little puffs she let out the air, but the nausea didn’t fade. How did pregnant women do that? Damn.

‘I gotta go home.’

‘Yea-yea. Let me fix you a cab.’ Megan clipped her fingers and in a few minutes Phoebe was loaded into a cab, away from the bustling bubble of Hollywood A-listers and hot shots.

The fairytale, was over.

‘I got scared.’

‘Of me?’ Henry’s face pulled into one of agony, making him look even more disheveled with his wild curls, crumpled white shirt - which looked much too good on his large chest - and loose hanging grey sweatpants.

‘No. I mean. Eh. Well. I lost my phone and..I called..and..someone picked up.’

‘Lea? Miranda? What someone?’ Henry stepped a little closer as the water cooker started to come to a slow boil.

‘I don’t know. I -- They said they never heard of me, so I explained what..happened - oh fuck I shouldn’t have..I...pfffff. I panicked.’ A heavy blush crept over her cheeks as she nervously eyed the water boiler, the little lever moving back to “off” as the water danced in a heavy boil within.

‘Gr-green tea? English tea? Mint? I got some..’ Henry’s voice trailed off.

Phoebe shrugged and brushed a hand over her cheek, willing herself to stop blushing as the large stranger of a man brushed passed her to reach for the tea bags that were located just beside her head.

‘Oh sorry.’ She quickly tried to get away, but Henry could only grin.

‘It’s not funny, Cavill.’ Phoebe pouted shyly.

‘Well you stood me up. I’m allowed to..smile, no?’

Phoebe opened her mouth to say something. Perhaps ask for forgiveness, or further her explanation to why she chickened out to trying again - and how she had even gotten his address. But no words came and so she just watched as Henry turned back to the task of making tea, bunching a few mint leaves in the two grey mugs that were settled on the smooth grey kitchen counter.

This man sure liked his greys.

‘I eh..actually ..had to tell you something.’

Even Phoebe herself wasn’t prepared for the words that had just escaped her lips, but there they were, earning a surprised quirk of Henry’s eyebrow.

‘You don’t say.’ His lip curled into another cheeky grin and Phoebe couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Henry chuckled and hinted in the direction of the kitchen table. ‘Let’s sit.’

-- And that was a very good idea --

‘Meg..oh I’m in deep shit.’ Phoebe paced her small hallway as she waited for her friend’s voice to soothe her stomach fluttering nerves, her new smartphone clutched tightly in her hand.

‘Oh- oh- wait a sec. Baby..yea..mommy is gonna be righttt there. Just a moment okay?’ A short pause followed and then Megan finally answered. ‘HEYY booo. What’s cooking goodlookin’?’

‘A baby, that’s what.’

‘W-what?’

Why didn’t he say anything? Phoebe nervously fingered the ear of her mug, waiting for Henry to give any kind of response to what she had just explained, and for the slightest moment she considered fleeing again - like she had numerous times when she tried to find the courage and call him, text him - anything. But that just hadn’t sat right, felt right. And then for long weeks she just pushed the reality of it all away. How could she be pregnant?! HOW?!

The new IUD, that’s how. But, Henry had used protection; how much bad luck could one have?! So much for accidents that happen in cramped little bathroom stalls.

Finally Henry made a noise, but it was more like a surprised squeak, then any normal sound a man his size would make.

‘I’m sorry.’ Phoebe lowered her eyes a little more, taking it up as a; yea, this is not cool, girlfriend.

No, scratch that - she was not even his girlfriend. Ha! They were strangers for fuck’s sake.

‘O-okay.’ Henry inhaled deeply and nodded, brushing a hand over the head of his dog, who was pushing a curious nose into his lap. ‘Okay. Wow.’

‘Yea..’ Phoebe swallowed thickly. ‘I..I’m keeping it either way. But..I thought..’ Her fingers had apparently curled around the mug so fiercely that it right about screamed as its small ear broke off. ‘OH FUCK.’ Her eyes widened as her lips turned into a shocked little “o”.

Henry laughed. ‘Well, we better get new mugs before that baby is born.’

Was he being sarcastic? Phoebe felt like she was close to tears as the man before her cracked out the mug joke. Oh, why did she always ruin things?!

‘Oh don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’s just a mug.’ Henry’s smile turned into a pained lip bite as he saw the silvery tears rim Phoebe’s eyes. But Phoebe couldn’t help it, her lower lip already shivering as she looked down at the broken little tea ear in her hand.

‘I’m sorry..’ She whimpered pathetically, the first tears already beading down her cheek before Henry could push away his chair and squat down beside her.

‘Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s..hey, come on now.’

‘I’ll *sniff* g-get a new..ha..new one *sniff*’

Henry smiled, slowly shaking his head before he carefully brushed his fingers through her golden locks, hooking them behind her ear so he could properly see her face.

‘Bee..’ His voice lowered to a gentle hum.

‘It’s Phoebe by the way.’ She sniffled.

‘Okay. Hello Phoebe.’ His hand folded around her hand that was carefully holding onto the broken off mug ear. Hesitantly, Phoebe looked away from her hand, right into the blue ocean that had drawn her in some three months ago from across the crowded room. She now too noticed a little fleck of brown in there - a little accidental mutation. Would the baby have his eyes?

‘H-hi.’ She sniffled, trying her best to turn her lips in a smile, but it only worsened everything, more tears bursting from her eyes as the stress and chaos of the past months came crashing down. In an instant she felt herself be enveloped by large warm arms, a hot breath fanning over her head as Henry nuzzled her hair, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear as he spoke:

‘It was just an accident, okay? No harm done.’

Phoebe nodded, but scolded herself anyways. Sure enough he was just talking about the mug. The stupid fucking mug. But what about the fucking baby?! Her..- his - baby.

‘Phoebe? Bee?’ He settled back a little, his fingers brushing through her hair again. ‘How about we go sit on the couch and I make you a new cup of tea and we..’ He licked his lip as his eyes quickly flew over her heart-shaped, tear bruised face. He had to try hard not to unnecessarily coo over her. He didn’t want to chase her away this time. Especially not now. Not with this..situation.

A..baby?!

‘You don’t have to be so nice you know.’ Phoebe muttered, looking back at him.

‘Well, too bad I’m a nice guy then.’ -- Who is going to be a dad!!! WOO! -- His lips curled in a sweet smile.

‘Nice guys don’t shag women in bathroom stalls, do they?’

Henry cleared his throat at her sharp words, quickly looking down at his hand covering hers. ‘Yea..that was a ..bit uncharacteristic of mine. Ha..fuck..You know I scolded myself so hard for doing that. I-I sent you a pretty long Whatsapp message after, but..’

‘I never got that. Must be some syncing issue when I got my new phone.’ Phoebe’s lips curled in a watery smile. ‘The couch is fine.’

‘Okay.’ Henry’s smile grew a little. ‘Can you walk?’

‘Pff..Of course I can walk.’ She huffed, before she all but flew up into Henry’s chest in surprise when she was nuzzled by a very wet nose.

‘Oh, I forgot to mention, this is Kal. My dog. And he likes the word “walk”’ - the dog borked softly - ‘very much.’

They both laughed and Kal’s ears perked up, his wet nose pressing in Phoebe’s elbow again, pushing her further up into Henry’s welcoming arms.

The whole situation was weird, but as Henry felt how naturally they somehow melted into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his back, he could only smile.

Sometimes accidents simply offered you the little push you needed all along. Be it in the form of broken mugs or babies.

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #the accidental family #oneshot

66 notes · View notes

concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Late July Part Two

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit kinda' tame.

AN: Guess who was a fool and thought that they could leave Late July the way it was?! Me. Spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle abound in this chapter, so proceed only if you don't care about the movie being spoiled for you! I'll see you guys on Wednesday. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst @mostly-megan @pancakepike @88dragon06 @chibi-liz05 @iellaren-uodo-rian @heatherbel @ripleyafterdark @oloreaa @thesoftdumbass @okilover02 @renegademustelid

Alright, I think I got everyone! There will be one more part on Wednesday, so if you would like to be tagged please let me know!

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This chapter contains attempted purposeful triggering, frank discussion of character death, memory loss, regression and vivid flashbacks/allusions to post-trauma. Stay safe!]

He came back around slowly, still tasting the stale beer of last night's party like an unwanted echo in his mouth. But instead of waking up on the kitchen floor of his shared apartment, he was in a blindingly white room that looked suspiciously like an alien spacecraft. Jack's mind raced. Shit, maybe my roommate wasn't being a total spaz when he talked about getting probed, the young man realized with an undercurrent of fear.

Incomprehensible beakers of things lined the walls of the room. Alright, maybe he should have paid more attention in his chemistry classes, but he could hardly be blamed for assuming that none of it would have practical uses!

Jack rattled his hands in the cuffs that secured him to the table, clearing his throat. Man, his head ached. This was why he needed to remember to drink a glass of water before passing out!

"S'cuse me? Uh, hello?" He called hesitantly. "Look, if the guys from Theta Alpha Phi put you up to this-"

A beautiful older woman rounded the corner into the room, observing him over her glasses. "Welcome back." Her voice was steel, and Jack worried his lower lip nervously. "Wasn't sure if you were going to make it for a little while."

The restraints around his wrists and ankles abruptly retracted into the table, leaving Jack to awkwardly stumble forward onto the floor. He quickly regained his footing, reaching up to seize the lapels on his usually-open shirt and finding instead that he was wearing some sort of...ski suit? Jumpsuit? Top Gun, I can dig it.

God, she really was a good-looking woman. Ah, what the hell. Nothing ventured...

"Hello gorgeous. I'm Jack, what's your name?" He didn't give her any time to answer before he carried on with a disarming grin, "How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?" Jack ran a hand through his usually-unruly hair and found it...weirdly tame. "I've got a six pack on ice and my roomie is out for the night so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar!" He continued, ambling forward. The cheesy, blatant approach usually worked well for him. Sixty/forty split, or thereabouts.

She kept retreating as he advanced, and then she reached into her pocket. Jack braced himself for the rebuff, confused when she pulled out a Polaroid instead. "I hate to do this to you, Jack." She sounded like she meant it. There was Blue-Tack on the back of the Polaroid and handwriting that some portion of his brain vaguely recognized as his own, but he didn't get the chance to read it before she was showing him the faded image.

It took him a moment to realize that it was a picture of one of the girls he had dated in high school, but it looked like she had grown into a legitimately stunning woman. She was smiling fondly at whoever was taking the picture, and the entire image radiated playful energy. Jack cocked his head, a buzz of foreign sadness churning briefly in his chest before he raised his eyes to meet the...scientist's? Teacher's? "Where'd you get this picture? I ain't seen her in years! Shee-it, she got beautiful." The young man drawled. "I have been thinkin' about visitin' my folks again. Maybe I'll go 'round to her place too for some catchin' up."

The woman seemed startled, her sculpted brows raising and then dropping as she studied him intently. "You...don't remember...?"

"I remember her, yeah, we dated for a while in high school." Jack insisted. "Broke up senior year because I was leavin' for college, y'know how it is."

"This is your wife, Jack. Or she was, rather."

His head throbbed, left temple lighting up with sudden agony. "Oh, shit." Jack grunted, holding the side of his head and grazing a bandage that he hadn't realized was there. "Damn, I must have hit my head real good when those pricks from Theta Alpha shoved me down the stairs. Hangover probably ain't helpin'." He grinned ruefully at her. "Guess you must be the one who patched me up. I ain't never asked out a doctor before, but there's a first time for everythin'. Can I pay you back with dinner?"

The woman appeared perturbed. "Jack. This is your wife." She repeated, waving the picture in his face.

"I'm real sorry ma'am, but I ain't the marryin' sort." Jack replied bluntly, "I would definitely remember if someone like her was still my girlfriend. Or uh, had become my wife."

"What do you remember happening, Jack? Before…" she gestured vaguely. "This?"

Jack chewed on his lower lip in thought, tilting his head back to stare up at the featureless ceiling. "Uh, I remember…well, before they pushed me down the stairs, them TAP boys crashed my roommate's party…"

…

"'Pressions, I need you down here in the reconstruction laboratory." Ginger Ale's voice issued abruptly through your earpiece and you sat up a little straighter at your desk.

"What's happened?" You asked softly, rising from your seat and making your way to the door. What with a majority of the population currently locked up in stacks of cages, enough to fill football arenas to their brim, you weren't doing much in the 'managing first impressions' area. Since you had fewer and fewer responsibilities, Ginger Ale had begun to lean upon you a bit more, especially as all able-bodied agents were deployed into the field to search for an antidote. With Tequila being incapacitated, it had made the assignment personal to many agents.

It had been fascinating to find out that Statesman was technically an offshoot from the now utterly-decimated Kingsman agency. When the two surviving members of their group had shown up to the Statesman headquarters, it had caused quite the stir.

"I need a favor." Ginger said, sounding tired.

"Anything." You agreed before she could elaborate further, picking your way through the gravel in the courtyard as you headed to the warehouse where the massive casks of Statesman Reserve were stored to age. Once inside, your heels clicked loudly in the stillness of the temperature-controlled storehouse and you were certain that Ginger Ale could tell your location just from the noise alone. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Don't promise me that until you know what I need."

Your brow furrowed. "Uh...okay."

Once you had made your way through the somewhat labyrinthine halls of the Statesman underground facility, you found Ginger Ale waiting for you directly outside the sick bay. She was rubbing her temples.

"Oh no, that's not a good sign." You quipped as you approached.

She looked up and her face bore an expression of long suffering. "You don't have to say yes to this, okay?"

"Ginger, talk to me. What's up?" You asked worriedly, taking her arm and leading her off to the side of the doorway.

"'Pressions, Whiskey may not be...one hundred percent." She said carefully. "He didn't snap back into 'Whiskey mode' even though the nanites-"

"Wait, what happened to Whiskey?" You interrupted in concern, your heart hammering a foreign, panicky tattoo on your ribcage. "He was with the Galahads, I thought?"

"He got caught by a sniper." Ginger Ale grimaced. "Clean shot to the head."

"Jesus, no." You gasped. "I'm assuming one of the Galahads used his alpha gel?"

"Yes, and the nanites did their job perfectly. So he's stable, and conscious. Better than that, I would hazard, considering that he took a bullet to the head and he's walking and talking. The issue is that he's not really...Whiskey. At the point he's regressed to, he thinks he's still a dropout living with his college roommate." Ginger Ale pulled a picture out of an inner pocket. "It used to be that we could just trigger him to resume where he left off using the memory of his wife and unborn son, but it doesn't appear to be working this time."

You stared at her, mainly because of how casually she stated the fact that they triggered their agents back to 'normal' with traumatic memories, but also because you had a sneaking suspicion that you might be the reason why the aforementioned trigger no longer held the same weight for the field agent.

You told yourself you would refuse to feel guilty about it. Whiskey had asked for your help and you had obliged. It was as simple as that.

"Now, I know your family has that rental cabin, and I also know that it's fairly secluded. If the Statesman organization could possibly, uh...commission the cabin and persuade you to take some paid leave until Jack is...himself again, or at least until the drug issue is sorted and we can devote more time and research to this situation, I…" Ginger Ale trailed off as Jack's head popped out around the doorway.

You were treated to a blatant once-over stare that seemed to last for a lifetime, his dark eyes studying you intently. "Have I...met you before?" Jack asked you, the hesitance in his tone making you briefly hopeful before he continued, "yeah, last night, in my dreams I think?"

You couldn't help your groan and eye-roll, laughing in spite of yourself. "Ugh, and how often does that line work for you?" You teased.

"So far, never." Jack admitted. "But I've always held true to the belief that the sexiest thing a fella' can wear is confidence." He continued with a grin, "That and a high-quality hat." He glanced down the hallway. "So, is it just you two lovely ladies on this alien spacecraft, or what?"

"Alien…?" You raised an eyebrow. "Okay Ginger, I'm convinced. I'll get the paperwork ready. But if you need anything-"

"I know. I'm glad that I can rely on you." She interrupted you gratefully, looking relieved.

"You gals got any Midrin on you? My head is killin' me." Jack grimaced, palming over the gauze square attached to his temple even as he shamelessly watched you walk past him to the lab's computer.

"Midrin was discontinued almost ten years ago." You replied absently while you punched in your login and searched for the proper documents to send to the nearby printer. Commission for resources...ah! There you are.

"What, really?" Jack gawked at you. "Hell, I should probably tell my roommate to chuck his then, it must be way outta' date."

"Somehow, I doubt that will be a problem."

…

Jack balked a little when you stated that you would be driving, but he quieted down once you implied that the world may look a bit different than he recalled and that he didn't have a choice in the matter.

"He's not the first one to get put back a little wrong. The process isn't perfect," Ginger had told you. Of course you knew about Galahad senior, the Kingsman agent who had been shot in the head and returned merely wishing to study butterflies. "But I'll send you informational packets that he can sift through. Hopefully something will jog his memory."

Just riding up in the cask elevator had Jack worryingly pale, though getting him outside into the fresh air and sunshine appeared to perk him right back up. He was obviously doing his best to roll with the punches. You thanked whatever gods were listening that Champ had given you permission to take Whiskey's Bronco. Despite the technological advancements of your own personal vehicle that made it miles more convenient to use (you kissed your Bluetooth phone sync goodbye with a woeful sigh), the last thing you wanted was to cause Jack even more distress. Whiskey was mercifully a classic, no frills, no fuss man when it came to his preferred vehicle, even for being a secret agent.

You grabbed your go-bag out of the trunk of your car and walked over to the Bronco in the lot, barely holding back a laugh at Jack's obvious approval of the vehicle. He was running his fingers reverently along the tiny red pinstripe on the exterior, back and forth.

"If I get enough money for one of these beauts someday, God, it will be a sight." He mused, sounding wistful. "Have to get a better job first, though." He continued, as if reciting an oft-repeated mantra.

"Ginger said you dropped out. What courses were you taking?" You asked curiously. Jack had never been very forthcoming with information about his past, so you seized the opportunity to glean a little insight into the normally tight-lipped agent.

"My parents want me to be a doctor." Jack answered you with a shrug. "I dropped out last semester. Still ain't sure how I'm gonna' break it to 'em." He bounded up into the passenger seat, drumming his fingers nervously on the edge of the door. "Can I ask for somethin' to eat? I'm fuckin' famished." He admitted, changing the subject.

"Yeah, what do you feel like?" You paused, wondering if visiting the establishment near your cabin would assist his memory. "Sandwiches? Pizza?"

"She drives a manual and she eats real food? Be still my goddamn heart!" Jack proclaimed dramatically.

"Easy now cowboy, flattery will get you everywhere!" You laughed.

He grinned back at you, but the smile soon faded. You noticed him studying himself in the side mirror, running a finger down his jaw and grimacing. "God, there's a lot more mileage on this face than I remember." He muttered, prodding the skin of his right temple to smooth out the pronounced crow's feet around his eye. As if working on muscle memory, he reached down without looking and popped open the glovebox to grab his sunglasses. He paused, like he noticed what he had done, then shrugged and slipped the glasses on. "How do I look, ma'am?"

"Perfect."

What with the drug situation ravaging the world right now, the normally-bustling joint you favored was downright sleepy. Aside from the muted television over the counter, the only sign of life was the lone waitress who ushered the two of you in to sit at the counter.

"I can turn that up if you'd like." She offered, nodding at the TV. "I just leave it silent when I'm alone because all the reports...well, they can grate on your nerves, y'know?"

"Nah, leave it off." You shook your head. "I'm full up on hearing about the topic at hand."

"'Topic at hand'?" Jack repeated, looking confused. He had taken his hat off and placed it on the countertop, his fingers back to worrying the bandage on his head.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Hey, cool it. You'll undo all of Ginger's hard work." You chided, and he jerked his hand away with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Whups, sorry." He looked up at the menu, and then asked the waitress, "Ma'am can I get a cup of coffee and a hot brown with chicken? I'm downright famished." His smile seemed more genuine, somehow. You realized after a moment that it actually reached his eyes, warming them even further. You weren't sure if you had ever seen him smile like that. Maybe he had forgotten how.

You began to explain in an undertone after the waitress had bustled off to the kitchen, "so there's this...problem going on in the world right now. Big drug problem."

"Yeah, no shit." Jack scoffed, taking a sip of the black coffee she had poured him. "Nixon started that shit, and Reagan's been on that shit for years. You ain't tellin' me nothin' I don't know."

"N...No, no no, this is different." You grimaced, leaning in a little closer. "I'm talking like, there was one person behind the whole thing and now a large chunk of the population is infected with a virus that will kill them because they used illegal drugs."

Jack stared at you, his coffee cup forgotten in midair between the counter and his mouth. "You...what, hell, all drugs?" He asked incredulously. "Weed? Coke? LSD? 'Shrooms? Everythin'?"

"Everything unregulated, yes."

"I...God." The mug met the counter with a thump and Jack put his head in his hands. "Fuck, you're serious about this, ain't you?"

This was a far cry from the boardroom Whiskey who had insisted that Champ "couldn't make this personal" after it had been revealed that Tequila was infected. But then, people changed over time. Things happened. You imagined a secret agent would grow into a fair amount of detachment through their career, if only for the sake of their sanity.

"So what's gonna' happen to them? Is anyone doin' anythin' to help? Or is everyone just sittin' on their damn hands again, watchin' shit happen?" Jack growled.

"Well, our friends are doing their best. I'm confident that they'll be able to pull off their mission." Even without the senior Statesman agent at their side, you added mentally. Jack stayed in his hunched-over position for several minutes after his food arrived and you finally nudged his elbow. "Hey, sour puss. C'mon, we only made this pit stop because you were hungry."

"I'm sorry, my head is...I'm havin' some trouble." He mumbled faintly, and you noticed that he had gone pale again. "Headache."

You felt a touch of remorse. Maybe it had been overly optimistic of you to assume that he might recall more clearly in this location that he had only visited once. "To go it is." You decided for him, tugging out your wallet. "Once we get up to the cabin, we'll settle in for however long. It'll be fine."

…

There was no power.

You cycled back through the last month's bills in your head. You had definitely paid the electricity. You huffed out an annoyed breath. "There must be a tree down somewhere." You said aloud.

Jack was already making a beeline for the table in the kitchen, the takeaway container quickly splayed open so he could dig into his food with newfound zeal. "So, what do we need to do?" He asked around his first mouthful. He hadn't even bothered to sit down.

"Well first, I'll call Ginger." You sighed, already dialing the reconnaissance specialist. "After that, I'll check the stove, the fridge--"

"What happened?" Ginger answered before it even had the chance to ring, her voice sharp.

"No no, nothing's wrong. Just the power is out. With everything being the way it is, it'll probably be down for a few days." You heard the rapid clicking of a keyboard. "Whoa hey, don't move stuff around, Ginger. We can survive just fine without power for a day or two." You assured her. It always made you feel guilty whenever Statesman resources were used on someone as inconsequential as yourself.

"Are...are you sure? I really should be working on getting more information from the drones in Cambodia-"

"Absolutely, you have way bigger fish to fry. We can wait our turn on the outage route." You interjected firmly. "I'll use the car charger for my phone, so if you need anything you can still get in touch."

…

Jack did his best to tune out your conversation with the woman from the lab, the young man scanning the inside of the cabin as he ate.

It was small, though not cramped. Behind him was the common room, separated from the deck by sliding glass doors. The ceiling overhead was simple untreated beams, interspersed with skylights that left sunny squares on the warm wood floors.

There was a hallway to his left that he assumed must lead to at least one bedroom and the bathroom, but he wasn't particularly interested in snooping down that direction.

His gaze landed on the wood stove that was tucked into the lone river-rock corner upon a sturdy pedestal of bricks, eyes tracing the stovepipe up to where it pierced the wall to the outdoors. Jack left the table and meandered to the stove, turning the handle and popping the door open after a brief struggle. It was still full of old ash from the last use and he grumbled under his breath, grabbing the shovel and bucket from their cobwebbed resting place against the wall so he could give the stove a proper seeing-to.

You would think people had never heard of a damn chimney fire, the young man griped to himself, eventually standing with the half-full bucket and making his way outside. "Hey!" He called to get your attention, "where's your trash?"

You waved a hand off in the direction of a waist-high wooden crate that no doubt housed the waste receptacles, out at the end of the rutted drive. On his way by, Jack slowed briefly to a halt to watch you talk into your...God, is that really what cellular phones looked like?

You shot him an absent smile when you seemed to notice that he had paused and the young man felt his stomach lurch, what the hell? This all seemed so familiar, like he had done it before.

His head hurt.

Waking up in a body that was damn near twenty years older, retrograde amnesia was what the...what Ginger Ale had called it. Jack scoffed to himself. The hell kind of name is Ginger Ale? Then, he winced. Jack Daniels, meet kettle.

So what had happened in between? Something must have happened to him. Ginger had implied that he and that girl he had dated in high school got married, which was...not something he had ever thought about having on his radar, if he was honest.

Unless…

A weird, uneasy suspicion began to take root in his chest. There was one scenario where he believed he would ask a woman to marry him, if only because it was the goddamn proper thing to do.

Oh God, he felt sick to his stomach again. Something, a memory, was lurking just out of the light and he couldn't shake the burgeoning sensation of dread. It was as if his brain was playing tug-of-war, both pushing him towards the realization and dragging him away from it in equal measure.

Jack shook his head and dug his fingers in beneath the heavy wooden lid that shielded the waste containers from the elements (and snooping animals), shoving it up so he could empty the bucket into the ash can. Later, he promised himself, we'll tackle that shit later.

...

Jack appeared to be deep in thought as he carried on the task of emptying out the wood stove, so you simply left him to it as you did a quick check of everything else in the cabin. It looked like the power hadn't been out for too long, as the small fridge hadn't defrosted just yet, so you made a note to head down the road and pick up some ice at the amenities store. You kept an 'emergency' cooler under the counter for such an occasion as this.

This cabin and the surrounding ones didn't lose power very often, but what with all the old trees around it tended to be inevitable once the winds got strong. Your parents had instilled the knowledge in you of how to properly maintain the property, and you were immensely grateful that no problem had cropped up yet that you hadn't been able to straighten out by yourself.

Most of the vacation cabins that littered the nearby woodlands had been booked up for the summer, due to the prolific population of affluent wealthy who enjoyed them as an 'isolated retreat from civilization'. You were hard-pressed to think of an 'isolated retreat' that included a convenience store within literal walking distance of one's residence, but any port in a storm.

Jack was oddly silent for nearly the entire walk down the road to the tiny store, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops as his fingers idly patted out an off-tempo rhythm on his thighs. "Penny for your thoughts?" You broke the quiet with your question, trying for a genial tone.

"I dunno', really. I've got a lot of 'em. How many pennies we talkin'?" He replied, his smile strained. "I just feel like I'm missin' somethin'...big. Obvious. And I...dunno' if I'll be happy about figurin' out what it is, y'know? Like there's somethin' in the back of my head, hollerin' at me, but I can't make out the damn words and I don't--I ain't sure if I really want to." Jack stared off ahead, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. "I've already been a fuck-up for most of my life, y'know. I can't imagine what bullshit I pulled later."

This uncertain man was a far cry from the usual cocksure attitude you had come to expect from Whiskey. In a way, you weren't exactly surprised that his attitude may have been mainly bravado. Or it might just be that he had played the part for so long he started to believe it. You reached out carefully and he met you halfway, almost absentminded, instinct kicking in before his brain as he wrapped his hand around your wrist.

It took a moment before Jack's fingers twitched, and then his shoulders went stiff. Just like Whiskey, you found yourself thinking. "Uh, sorry, I-" he began to awkwardly apologize.

"It's okay." You murmured, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. "If you're okay, this is okay."

"...okay." Jack's voice was barely a whisper, the man smiling gratefully and giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

...

It was a beautiful night.

Due to the lack of power in your cabin and the ones around it, the stars were clearly visible. You had brought the battery-powered radio out with you onto the deck, soft crackling static and faint music the backdrop to your after-dinner conversation.

Jack was more at peace than he could recall feeling recently, the man content to watch your expressions in the light of the lone citronella candle that you had lit on the table.

At ease, well-fed and comfortable, it was almost malicious how fast his mind began to twist everything for him. Jack Daniels, college dropout. Nothing to show for it at all. He'd crashed and burned so damn fast, there hadn't been time. And now, all of this, finding out that the world had gone to shit--

In the middle of his ruminations, something dragged him back to the present. A familiar song, jarring him out of his self-deprecating reverie. "You fill up my senses…"

His head aching again, Jack got a fleeting recollection of a kitchen in a tiny apartment. Faded, dingy gray subway tiles on the backsplash, yellow curtains framing the window over the sink, her yelling at him, "I hate it when we fight, Jack," eyes snapping with fury but resigned and no, no, something is wrong-

"What's wrong?"

It took him a minute to realize that it was you asking him aloud, not his brain screaming at him. Jack grimaced, pressing his fingers to the bandage. "This song, I...I know it."

"I mean, it's John Denver." You said in a deadpan tone. "The guy oozes questionable sweater choices, denim and radio-friendly vibes. I'd be more surprised if you didn't know it."

"When she and I...we had moved in together. And this…it was playin' while we were arguin'." Jack's head was pounding. The kitchen had always felt too small, though it was the perfect size for her. They fought. About little things, and then bigger things. His gambling, her drinking. What a couple. Jack shoved his chair back from the table on an impulse, getting to his feet. "C'mere." He ordered, extending a hand to you

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. "Why?"

"Dammit woman, just-" Jack tangled his fingers with yours, giving your arm a light tug. "C'mere." He pleaded.

You obliged begrudgingly, obviously comfortable in your current position and unwilling to move. But once you were upright you didn't seem to have any reservations about him swaying you back and forth in time to the music, your head on his chest like it belonged there and your hands tucked into the sleeves of your large sweatshirt.

"...like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean…" the song carried on, sweet and calm. Jack rested his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes and just letting the faded memories wash over him.

"...I can't do this shit anymore." He had whispered into her hair, his voice hoarse. "All we goddamn do is fight and neither of us change and I'm fuckin' sick of this shit." He had continued to rock the both of them to and fro in that tiny kitchen, as if to soothe her.

"Oh, you think I'm not sick? I've been sick!" She threw it right back at him hotly, her fists clenched on his chest like she wanted to beat the piss out of him. He probably deserved it. "Jack, you're the one who needs to change! You're the one who's the father of my fucking baby, why don't you start goddamn acting like it!"

Jack's eyes flew open. Baby? He scoured his mind frantically, every memory he turned up so frustratingly piecemeal!

Baby, a baby, son? Blue crib, blue walls, my son? Married, needed to get married, can't have a baby without getting married, her parents hate me, my parents are already disappointed, have to elope--

And then everything ground to a halt. It was like his memory hit a wall, leaving him confused and almost raw with uncertainty. He needed more, damn it! He exhaled raggedly, making you look up at him in concern.

"Jack? Are you okay?" Your query was so quiet, like you didn't want to disturb him..

"I just...my uh, my joints are complainin'. Guess I let myself sit for too long." He fibbed, smiling down at you in an attempt to distract you from his obvious turmoil. "Thanks for the dance," Jack hesitated, an unfamiliar pet name lingering on the tip of his tongue, "cherry pie."

...

Jack meandered to lean with his arms crossed on the porch railing, his head tipped back to look up at the sky for a time. "Have I...been here before?" He asked out of the blue. "I feel like...it's weird to ask, but I feel like you and I have...I feel like I've been here before. With you." He finally managed to get the words out.

"Well, yes." You admitted. "You came to me because you needed help."

"And did you?" Jack cocked his head to the side.

"Did I what?"

"Help."

You hesitated to answer him, mulling it over. Because in the moment, it seemed like you had. Whiskey had left your care an obviously happier man, but…

If the memory of his pregnant wife, the memory of losing her had been established as his failsafe, it was downright irresponsible of him to have removed that trigger without instating a new one first. Ginger Ale hadn't known, and now Statesman was down their senior field agent in the middle of an incredibly dangerous and tenuous maneuver. The health and safety of countless people hung in the balance and technically, technically (by your reasoning, anyway), it was your fault that Statesman was unable to put their best foot forward in this endeavor.

But…

"I think so." You said softly. "You hung onto something from your past that hurt you, Jack. Something that weighed your body down. I guess you finally got tired of carrying it with you."

Jack's smile was slow, but it lit up his face yet again in the way that Whiskey's never had. "Well good, then! I'm glad you helped me out." He shook his head ruefully. "I just feel like I've been here before. This point in time. It's like...like I'm gettin' the chance to do somethin' over, but I don't know what the hell it is. I'm scared, feel like I'm gonna' fuck somethin' up on accident." He admitted quietly. "It was here, wasn't it? Where you helped me?"

"Yes. This cabin is a safe environment for anyone that needs it."

"I can tell. It's...peaceful." He drawled, one boot hooked over the other as he shifted his weight against the railing. A hand wandered to your arm, his warm palm rubbing your shoulder absently. "I just hope that I can...do whatever it is folks need me to do." Jack murmured.

His hand stayed on your arm for a good long while, the two of you silently looking at the stars.

"Hey, uh," Jack spoke up suddenly, "your...helpin', I…"

You glanced over at him, the stark white bandage on his temple serving as a stern reminder that this was not Whiskey, but simply Jack Daniels. The man, not the senior agent. A college dropout in a dead-end situation.

"Do you help even if a person don't need helpin'?" He asked pointedly, an eyebrow hitched upwards as he observed you.

You opened your mouth, uncertain of what you would even say, but you were suddenly blinded by the motion sensor light blazing to life overhead. Jack pulled you into his body defensively, once again seeming to act on muscle memory. You watched through squinted eyes as he reached down for weapons that he didn't have, his hand flying to his hip. "Hey, don't worry." You mumbled against his chest. "The power just came back on, that's all."

"Jesus fuck that shit is bright!" Jack squawked, his voice pitched high. "Thought I was gettin' abducted by aliens again!"

"Again?" You couldn't help your laughter at how ridiculous he sounded. The man began to laugh along with you after a moment, his expression sheepish in the brilliant Illumination.

"Yeah, yeah, get your kicks." He growled good-naturedly, rumpling your hair. "You're lucky you're cute."

You grabbed hold of his hand, tugging him to follow you back inside. "C'mon, let's make sure nothing got overloaded." You urged.

Even when he could have let go of your hand, you noticed he continued to hang on.

Part Three

#agent whiskey/reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels/reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels #jack daniels imagine #kingsman: the golden circle #the golden circle #pedro pascal character #i just can't leave things alone #i know after the first chapter this may come off as dry or boring #please forgive me #i am but a man rendered base by my need to make characters safe and whole again

165 notes · View notes

thedaredevilsgirl · 3 years

Text

Chapter Three - Like a Lollipop

Warnings: Tom being a big smug, smutty (oral-man receiving- and dirty talk).

Word count: 2109

N/A: Sorry for the delay in posting. It was my birthday on Monday and I kind of got inspired by that for this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

Sorry for the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

Tom's arms were around your body when you wake up early in the morning. He would no longer leave when he was done and go to your room, even when he was doing nothing, he would go to your room in the middle of the night lying on his side and you would sleep together, Tom liked the feeling of having you in his arms during the night, but he was very careful about leaving early in the morning before your brother saw you there.

"Good morning," you say in a husky voice from having just woken up.

"Good morning," he says smiling "And happy birthday."

"You remember, that's nice" you smile.

"Of course I remember" he caresses your face "it's not every day my girl turns 19".

You feel your heart beat faster in your chest when he calls you "my girl". You were trying your best not to let your feelings for Tom show, you promised yourself that you would keep your feelings hidden for your own good, but it was hard, especially when Tom acted like you two were in a relationship.

"Actually," he says smiling as he gets up from his bed "I have a present for you."

"Really Tom? You didn't need it."

The bedroom door suddenly opens and a smiling Harrison appears.

"He shouts happily, but the smile disappears from his face when he sees Tom standing in the middle of his room shirtless and wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. He asks suspiciously.

He mentally thanks him for being well dressed.

"I came to wish Y/N a happy birthday" he lies quickly.

"Couldn't you wait until she comes down for coffee?" Harrison continues with his questioning.

"I was going to" Tom speaks laughing "but I was already passing by, so I decided to say so".

You watch as Harrison gives Tom a strange look.

"Sure" In the end Harrison seems to believe what he has been told "Makes sense, come down soon, coffee is ready" he starts to leave but quickly returns "And happy birthday again" you smile and he finally leaves the room.

"Oh my God, I thought he was going to find out about us" you sigh in relief.

"Not this time darling" he smiles before leaving a kiss on your lips "I'll have to leave the present for later, see you downstairs" he leaves you alone in your room.

You take your shower and get ready for another day before heading down to the kitchen.

All the frat boys were downstairs and made a point of hugging you and wishing you a happy birthday, you thanked them all before sitting down to eat.

"We were planning to have a party..." Harrison starts to speak and you interrupt him.

"No, please, you know I'm not very comfortable at parties.

"...But since you have something against parties, we decided to just have a dinner party to celebrate, me, you, the boys and Megan, what do you think?" Her brother asks.

"Sounds good to me" you agree.

"Great" he says smiling "You will love it, we will cook for you".

"Please don't set the house on fire trying to cook".

"Don't worry, I will keep something bad from happening" Tom says smiling.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

"I hope you are excited for later" Megan speaks smiling.

"I think you're more excited than I am" you laugh "I'm afraid they're going to burn the whole house down or something".

"Honestly Y/N, you worry too much" You say.

"I'm the worried friend and you're the one who acts without thinking, remember?"

"Exactly, and I have a lot of fun being that way, which is the way you should act, you're 19 you have to enjoy your life" She speaks excitedly.

"Okay, and what should I do to act like that?" He asks.

"She points with her head in a direction and you look at the place she pointed to and see Tom surrounded by his friends.

There was a girl standing next to him, holding his arm and tossing her hair in a conquering way, but Tom didn't seem to pay any attention to her, in fact he was looking at you from across campus and gives you a little wink as soon as he notices your gaze on him.

"Look there, you know the two of them have slept together before and she probably wants a repeat of that."

"It wouldn't be a problem for me" You lie "You and I have nothing, I'm not going to compete with another woman just to get a boy's attention".

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about female competition, you know I hate it when they pit one woman against another, but I'm talking about you admitting how you feel, I'm talking about you telling him the truth, that you like him, before it's too late and you lose him.

"Do you think I should do that? What if he doesn't want me like that?"

"Then he's the one who will be losing out" She is sincere "I have class now, so I'll meet you at your place later".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When you enter the house you go straight to your room to get ready for dinner, the boys were in the kitchen and the smell of food was already spreading through the room.

Quickly go up the stairs and enter your room, closing the door afterwards.You quickly get ready, wearing the new blue dress Harrison had given you.

"Hi," Tom's voice says behind you, startling you.He entered the room quietly and locked the door.

"Oh my god" you place your hand on your chest breathing heavily trying to recover from the fright "What are you doing in here?"

"Sorry honey, I didn't mean to startle you" He smiles "I said I would deliver your present later, I came to do that" he shows you the small blue box he was holding and hands it over.

"Thank you" you smile at him and open the box, inside was a gold choker with a small butterfly pendant "God, Tom, that's beautiful".

"You like it?"

"Of course I like it, this is wonderful, you shouldn't spend money on me."

He rolls his eyes and takes the box from her hand, removing the necklace from inside it.

"Don't be silly" He says as you stand in front of the mirror with your back to your body, he moves your hair out of the way and places the choker on you leaving a small kiss on your neck "I don't mind spending money on you".

"Tom" You say looking at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror "Are you getting any other girls?" You ask nervously.

"What?" He looks up not understanding why you are asking this question out of the blue "No, I'm not fucking anyone, why are you asking me that?"

"Nothing...I just saw you with a girl today, you seemed close" you say pulling away from him a little.

"Y/N, are you jealous?" He asks smugly.

"Of course not" You roll your eyes, trying to pretend you didn't feel anything, but it was true, you kind of were jealous.

"I think you are" He says moving closer to your body "What? You don't like to imagine me touching another girl" His hands grip your hips pulling you even closer, he tilts his head to reach your neck and leave kisses all over your skin "No need to be jealous honey, I'm all yours, you're the only one for me".

You look him in the eyes, despite his cocky tone he was being sincere, you see that, you break the rest of the distance by pulling him by the shirt and making your lips glue to his in a thirsty kiss. He couldn't put his feelings into words yet, but he hoped that the kiss would say everything his heart felt.

He grabs you even tighter and deepens the kiss, letting his hand go up to your head and lightly pull your hair, making you moan between kisses, he bites your lower lip and you feel a shiver run down your entire body.

"Tell me what you want" he asks, his husky voice making you shiver once again. Your hands move down to your pants, feeling the hard member through your jeans.

"I want you...in my mouth," she says a little nervously. You had been thinking about this for a few days, Tom always helped you come, touched or fucked you until you came, but you denied all his help, he wanted to give you pleasure but expected nothing in return. But you wanted to reward him.

"Y/N, it's your birthday, I should do something for you" He speaks holding your hand.

"Exactly, it's my birthday and I want to suck you off, please" You look at him with a puppy dog face and a cute peck on your lips, a cute and innocent expression that completely contradicted what you had said a few seconds ago.

"Damn" he feels himself getting even harder in his pants. He was trying to go easy on you, but seeing you like that, begging to have his cock in your mouth was irresistible, and he wouldn't lie, he had dreamed of this moment several times.

You kneel in front of him, your fingers working quickly to open his pants.

"Are you sure you want to do this angel? I don't want to force you to swim sincerely I can wait" He speaks in a careful tone.

"Yes I'm sure I want to" you say confidently, pulling your pants down to your ankles "But I'm going to need you to help me".

"Ok angel, I'll help you" His hand slowly caresses your face, his thumb running across your lower lip, your mouth opens at the touch and he takes the opportunity to put it in your mouth, you suck your thumb slowly passing your tongue gently before he takes it out again.

He slowly pulls down his underwear exposing his member, you bite your lip getting a little nervous.

First" he begins to speak "You can start by spreading pre-cum over my tip, with your thumb." You follow his command, putting your hand around his cock and spreading pre-cum over the head of his cock, he sighs excitedly. It had been so long since a girl had touched him like this.

"Yes, darling, just like that" he says as you begin to move your hand from top to bottom on his member "Let's start off slow and easy, just a few licks from the shaft to my tip" you obey and he sighs as he feels your tongue touch his member "Now, do that again and put your mouth around my tip".

You run your tongue again over the entire length of his cock, before running it over the head and wrapping your mouth around it. Your fingers curl into his hair. You slowly begin to move further down, slowly getting used to his length in your mouth, the head moving up and down and your tongue dancing softly around his cock.

"Holy shit" He sighs, you look at him impressed, nothing was more beautiful than to see him moaning for you, his head thrown back, his lips open in ecstasy. He looks at you, his lips curling into your length and his innocent eyes staring back at you "You look so beautiful like that, what do you think others would say if they saw you like that in? The sweet innocent Y/N pleasuring me, being a good girl for me" you moan against his member, the vibrations making you moan even louder.

Being called a good girl awakened something in you, the word made your clit throb and your panties wet even more.

"Do you like that, being called a good girl?" He asks smugly "because you are being a good girl for me."

You speed up the movements, taking all you could with your mouth and rolling your hand in the rest, he helps you with the movements, without too much force, so as not to hurt you.

"Fuck, angel, I'm going to cum" different from what you thought you don't pull away from him, you continue the movements with more force making him quickly reach the apex.

You pull away from his body, with your cum still in his mouth, he groans at that sight, before you swallow it all quickly. He helps you up off the floor before kissing you, feeling the salty taste of your orgasm on his lips.

"You were so good, you learn so fast angel" he kisses her neck making her sigh "now" she sits down on her desk "I'll make it up to you" she says kneeling in front of him ready to make him cum too.

TAGLIST

@cherryobx

@a-daydreamers-day

@arlo-sanders

@multihoee

@storybookholland

@yazzyu

@hallecarey1

#tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x y/n #harry holland x reader #sam holland x reader

153 notes · View notes

sailorbellewrites · 3 years

Text

Jawbreaker

characters — taehyung x reader (aka kiddo) (ft. members of bts)

summary — taehyung thinks dating you is easy and it is, until it isn’t. then he doesn’t know what to do.

wordcount — 8.3k

information — one shot. fluff. femme reader. character inspired by megan thee stallion, cardi b, and lil’ kim. direct sequel to more than you can chew. makes references to no limit. part of the baking news au.

warnings — strong language. mean & aggressive characters. casual mentions of sex and sexual behavior (but no smut because i’m shy). light angst. excessive mentions of the color pink. vague mentions of other celebrities and influencers.

author’s note — i meant to post this months ago, but it just didn’t want to get written. it was actually meant to be attached to more than you can chew, but it just would have been a beast of a story. i actually rewrote this part roughly three times and i am sure there are still some editing mistakes. i’m so sorry for the long wait. i’m not very happy with the final product. i promise the next story will be better.

jawbreaker —

Taehyung really likes you.

It’s not a secret. Everyone knows it. He would shout it from the rooftops if you let him—though you would never let him do such a thing. You were certainly the cooler head when it came to relationship intensity, knowing that if Taehyung had his way, you would be married already. “Oh my god, it’s only been five months,” you once told him in response to a picture of an engagement ring he had saved on his phone. It was a typical Tuesday night date, taking place in your studio as you fiddled with the hook of a track technically meant for Hoseok. “Calm down, lover boy.”

“It’s been almost six months and I just asked if you liked it,” he had replied with a small pout, pulling your chair away from your monitor and closer to where he was sitting on the loveseat. “Isn’t it good for me to know what you like?”

“We’re not there yet,” you replied simply, shaking your head at the way he rolled his eyes at you, as though you were the one being ridiculous.

“I might as well know everything now, so I don’t mess up later. Right?” He questioned, grabbing your left hand in his and fiddling with your ring finger.

“If we make it that far,” you muttered, laughing lightly when he pinches you for your words.

“Answer the question. Do you like it?”

“Hmm…” you hum out, a small smirk settling on your face. “I think you can do better.”

Taehyung thinks he’s in love with you.

That is a secret. No one knows it. He would shout it from the rooftops if he were sure about it—sure that you would reciprocate his feelings, sure that you loved him back; but he’s not too sure. You were almost too cool when it came to the relationship, never going above and beyond the most basic of expectations. You answered every text, showed up to every date on time, and referred to him as “the boyfriend” on a few of your Instagram posts not related to music, but that was about it. And yes, his boss Seokjin had told him that you were putting in more than enough effort for a relatively new relationship, but Taehyung still found himself craving for more.

“But what more could she give you?” Seokjin asks during closing one night, his own soon-to-be fianceé (if everything went according to plan) mopping up the front of the bakery. Seokjin flips chairs on the top of tables, while Taehyung wipes down the now empty display racks. It’s a team effort that allows Taehyung to leave earlier, something he is always grateful for because he can spend more time with you. “Like do you want her to write a song about you?”

“I mean, yes.”

“You’re insane.”

“Just something, you know? Something more than studio dates and donuts. I feel like that’s all we ever do. What do you think, Noona? Am I asking for too much?” Taehyung questions, directing his words to the older woman up front.

She stops her mopping and shrugs, leaning against a wall as she mulls over her answer. Her eyes go towards Seokjin as finally states, “I’d have to agree with Jin. But we have half of our dates in the kitchen after hours, so maybe we’re the wrong people to ask.” Taehyung sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “If you’re not feeling satisfied, though, you should just talk to her about it. You know what they say, communication is key.”

“I don’t know how she would feel about that,” he replies, imagining just how easy it would be for you to misunderstand him or write him off as needy—though he didn’t exactly think being needy for you was a problem.

“Aww, don’t be like that. You never know what she might say. She could surprise you.”

At this time, Seokjin flips the last chair on top of its table and moves toward his girlfriend with a cheesy grin. “Wow, what is this mess? You call this mopping? Have you ever mopped before? Have you ever held a mop before? If you needed help from a master cleaner like me, you could have just asked sweetheart,” he teases, grabbing the mop from her hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to her forehead.

His girlfriend cringes away from the kiss for a moment, but ends up leaning into the man nonetheless as she whispers, “You get what you pay for.”

He scoffs. “I don’t pay you.”

“Exactly,” she replies smugly, hand going up to pick dried frosting off of her boyfriend’s collar. Seokjin lets out a choked laugh, arm slipping around her shoulders and pressing her into a too tight hug. She pretends to struggle against him for a bit, before eventually wrapping both her arms around his waist and squeezing just as tightly.

Taehyung watches the silly display of affection with wide eyes, warmth flooding into his heart. The two people in front of him were so clearly in love that he couldn’t help but feel it too. It was plain as day. This behavior wasn’t something he was often able to do with you though. Taehyung understands well that no matter what he did or said to you, your responses would always be carefully calculated. He respects how methodical you are in the way you carry yourself, as though you are afraid something could go wrong at any moment. He knows it’s not easy, which is why his admiration for your handling of relationships in a notoriously cut throat industry grew almost everyday.

Yes, Taehyung knows he loves you.

Yet, as he watches the way Seokjin and his girlfriend begin to playfully fight over the mop, an intense love in their eyes, Taehyung finds himself wishing that you would let go and love him too.

People don’t always believe that you’re a rapper. They tend to assume that you’re Hoseok’s girlfriend or a groupie when they meet you, failing to make the connection that you’re the infamous Kiddo until they see you on stage. You know why, of course. You’re the only woman in your crew, you’re nowhere near as popular as the other guys, and you don’t dress like a rapper. Or at least, that’s what Yoongi told you one night as you shared a cigarette behind the bar after a performance.

“It’s the biggest thing holding you back,” he mumbled, the cigarette between his lips looking like it would slip out at any moment. You knew it wouldn’t, but you still eyed it carefully just in case. Attempting to quit had made you hyperaware of its presence, but you knew Yoongi wouldn’t let it drop. He was always so in control—one of many things about him that you envied. “You look like you’re ready to fuck at the drop of a dime.”

“Maybe I am,” you had grumbled back, eyes still on the cigarette. His words were trying your patience, though you didn’t know if your irritation was caused by their truthfulness or your desire to smoke. “Do you have a problem? Cause I can solve it for you.”

“I don’t care if you dress like a whore,” he snapped at you. “Goddamn, you’re being a bitch tonight. Here, take this!” He snatched his half smoked cigarette out of his own mouth in annoyance, shoving it at you. You accepted it happily, choosing to ignore his insults in favor of savoring in your relapse.

You had long ago realized that most of the men around you would never understand how you dressed. The clothes you wore for performances and photoshoots were provocative to say the least. Vibrantly colored lingerie, leather, lace, and heels most others would deem too tall for comfort littered your closet. Your hair was always meticulously styled and your nails were always done in extravagant fashion. You made sure that your outfits highlighted as much of your body as possible, keeping all eyes on you. It was a far cry from the hoodies and occasional leather jackets sported by your friends, but you didn’t care. Your clothes made you feel powerful. The image you had constructed and thoroughly maintained worked to push your career further, making you stand out in the sea of sameness that had become common for the rappers around you. But those in your circle never see it that way.

Taehyung does, though. Taehyung watches with rapt attention as you show him the new pieces you buy, listening carefully as you explain why certain tops have to be paired with certain bottoms for maximum effect. He wordlessly takes pictures of you with various filters and backgrounds, never complaining when you ask him to take more because you don’t think they are good enough. He doesn’t tease you when you get cold from the lack of fabric, nor does he yell at you when you have unfortunate wardrobe malfunctions like the guys. Instead, he offers you his sweaters or quickly adjusts your clothes before you can even notice the problems. Taehyung knows just how important your image is to you.

Or at least, you thought he did.

“What?” You question, tone edging on impatient as his reflection continues to stare you down in the mirror. You refuse to turn around and face him physically, trying to keep your focus on the highlight you’re attempting to apply in the inner corner of your eye without poking yourself. The tension in your small bathroom is suffocating, but you don’t want to act on it. An argument is the last thing you need.

“I always watch you do your makeup,” Taehyung answers robotically, eyes still on you.

“Yeah, but—”

“But?” He cuts you off, making you pause your motions in shock. He’s angry and you don’t know why. It puts you both in unfamiliar territory. While Taehyung has seen you angry a million and one times over small things relating to music, venues, promoters, and fans, you cannot say the same for him. The angriest he had ever gotten in front of you came when he suddenly had to pick up extra shifts at the bakery because a coworker had caused a car accident and that moment was nothing like this.

“Can you just stop fucking looking at me like that? I’m trying to concentrate.”

He lets out a tense laugh of disbelief at your words before exiting your bathroom and moving to sit on the small couch in your living room. He’s not surprised to find you following him less than a minute later—you were never one to back down from a fight and you both were in the beginning stages of one. When you position yourself directly in front of him, he drops his head to hands and averts his eyes to the floor in a desperate attempt to calm himself down.

“What crawled up your ass and died tonight?” You ask.

“Go finish your makeup,” he requests quietly, words stilted as he refuses to look up at you.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothi—”

“It’s not nothing. Don’t lie to me. You can’t even look at me right now.”

Taehyung’s head shoots up at your words, jaw clenching as he realizes his efforts to stay calm were futile because he can’t look at you without feeling another wave of anger crash over him. “Your outfit,” he bites out.

“My outfit?” You parrot back to him in sarcastic disbelief. “You’re staring at me like I fucked your best friend and murdered your mom over… an outfit?”

“You might as well have,” he mumbles under his breath, before stating a bit louder, “It’s lingerie.”

He says it as though it’s obvious, but it’s not to you. “I-I… a-are you serious?” You stutter out, mind still trying to process his words. Taehyung doesn’t verbally respond, choosing to move his eyes back to the floor instead. You wrack your brain for the right thing to say, because what you actually want to say would likely lead to a breakup and you absolutely don’t want that to happen. You feel as though you’ve been transported into a particularly cruel episode of The Twilight Zone, where you watch your perfect boyfriend turn into one of your evil exes right before your eyes. “I… I wear lingerie for shows all the time. You’ve never had a problem before this. Hell, this covers more of me than what I was wearing earlier today. You didn’t seem to mind then.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” You shout out, frustration evident in your tone.

“You wore that for me a month ago,” he replies, looking up at you incredulously. His blood began to boil the moment you opened your apartment door, immediately realizing that you had planned to perform in the black lace set. You were even wearing the same black and gold heels with it. He knew for a fact that you bought the lingerie for him, a slightly belated birthday present given to him in your studio. You made him cum as many times as it took to get tears running down his face, then took him to your place and cooked him his favorite food for dinner. He almost told you he loved you then, but decided against it lest you believed he was exaggerating his appreciation for your actions. It was the single most sentimental thing you had done for him in your relationship thus far and you knew just how sentimental Taehyung could get. In his mind, you should have known better than to think that he would want to share any part of that night with the world.

You look down at your clothes, eyes acknowledging that it was indeed the set you purchased with his birthday in mind. It took you hours to find, trudging through the bitter cold to four different lingerie stores before you settled on it. However, you still didn’t see the problem. “So what? It’s not like it has your cum stains on it or anything.”

“God, do you always have to be—don’t be crude right now. I’m being serious,” he grits out, feeling intensely out of control.

“Well what would you prefer I say?” You ask, exasperation heavy in your tone. You feel tired and annoyed, knowing this argument might affect your performance later in the night.

“I want you to say that you’ll change.”

“No,” you reply after a beat, a dark laugh surrounding the word, though it lacks any humor. “No fucking way. I’m not changing.” You couldn’t believe that he was asking you to do such a thing. It wasn’t the first time that a person you were dating had made such a request—in fact, your ex had made the request often and it was equally as often ignored. However, it was the first time Taehyung had asked you to change and all you could feel was hurt. You couldn’t believe he fell so easily into the simple trap of insecurity that had tainted your previous relationships. “Look, unless you have a real reason for me to change, you’re just gonna have to get over yourself.”

“I just gave you a real reason,” he stresses bitterly. “And if you cared about me at all—”

“It’s not about caring for you, Tae! They are just clothes. They don’t do anything, but sit on my body and make me feel good. You, of all people, know that. It’s stupid to as—”

“It’s not stupid to ask you to keep some things private!” He yells, up on his feet with a fire raging in his eyes. You can feel your heart beating hard in your chest, nerves getting the better of you because you aren’t used to this level of rage from him. It’s a feeling both too familiar and too uncomfortable at the same time. It was everything you didn’t want in another relationship and everything Taehyung had promised not to be through his sweet words and actions—and yet you found yourself back there again. “You’re not wearing regular clothes or basic lingerie you buy just to perform in. You bought that specifically for me! You had sex with me in that. So now everyone at your show and everyone who follows you online is going to know exactly what you look like when you fuck me. I didn’t sign up to share that part of my life with the whole goddamn world!”

His rant finishes in a roar, the last sentence screamed so loudly that the final words come out hoarse and broken. His eyes are rimmed red, but he continues to stand tall, bracing himself as he expects you to respond in kind.

You don’t.

Rather, he watches you take a large step back and whisper, “Get out.”

“What?” He responds dumbly, unable to fully comprehend your words. It wasn’t in your nature to extinguish fights so completely, preferring to keep going until disagreements had naturally run their course or threats of violence had been made. You never walked away and you certainly never let others walk away. This was different. This hurt.

“You don’t get to yell at me over clothes. You don’t get to yell at me, period. So get out.”

You watch as Taehyung takes in the full meaning of your words, opening his mouth briefly as though he wants to argue more, but closing it again. Giving you a rough nod, you can do nothing but watch as he grabs his jacket, slips on his shoes, and exits your apartment, slamming the door in his wake.

Eight days. Eight long days. Eight miserable days. Eight long, miserable days of Taehyung slowly losing his mind. You had not spoken to him or seen him in eight days. Every single attempt he made to contact you was ignored. If it weren’t for read receipts and the fact that you had kept all the pictures of him up on your Instagram, he would have assumed that you were broken up. Although, at this point, he would have preferred a break up. At least, he could have made moves to win you back. This current situation left him stuck with nowhere to go.

“What do I do?”

“Well you can start,” Namjoon states, setting a pastel pink mug engraved with his wedding date down in front of his friend, “by drinking that.” Taehyung stares at the clear liquid inside of the cup curiously before shrugging his shoulders and taking a swig. His tongue instantly curls back into his mouth as his taste buds are assaulted by a strong, bitter flavor. He slams the mug back down on the coffee table with a gag. Namjoon lets out a chuckle at his reaction, sitting down beside him with a matching mug of his own. “Drink slow.”

“Is this vodka?”

“A strong drink for strong business,” Namjoon responds, taking a sip of whatever he has poured into his own cup. Namjoon had invited him over at the end of his shift, taking note of how much Taehyung had been moping around the shop. His mood was bad for business, apparently, and Namjoon was the ultimate fixer when it came to those sorts of things. “Now I think I know what happened, but can you tell me your side of things again?”

Taehyung throws his head back, staring at the ceiling as he recounts the argument once more. It’s all he’s been able to think about, hyper focusing on every sour facial expression and negative word you said. It makes his heart hurt; he misses you. “And then she told me to get out, so I did. I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Ouch. How long has it been?”

“Eight long days and counting.”

“Damn, I guess she knows how to hold a grudge. Good for her,” Namjoon comments with a light laugh, as though he was impressed by your actions. Taehyung wants to scream, but he settles for a deep scowl. “But I really don’t think you have anything to worry about Tae. She still claims that she is very much taken. You aren’t broken up or anything.”

“I just want her to talk to me,” Taehyung whines, hands running through his hair in distress. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed and just fought it out.” Namjoon laughs at his words, but Taehyung continues, “I keep listening to her songs just to hear her voice, but it’s not enough. I don’t want Kiddo saying she’ll fuck me to sleep, I only want her.”

Namjoon snorts, nudging his younger friend with his shoulder. “That’s so stupid, Tae. You know you can’t have one without the other. They are the same person. If you keep separating her into different parts in your head, the two of you are gonna keep having these problems.”

Taehyung hums out a confused note. “What do you mean?”

“Your girlfriend is kind of like a jawbreaker.”

Taehyung grunts, reaching for his mug again. “Listen, if you’re about to describe all the ways she’s going to keep hurting me, don’t bother. Jungkook already did that—twice. And it was worse the second time around.”

“I mean the candy,” Namjoon starts, pausing to take another sip of his drink as he contemplates the best way to continue. Taehyung thinks Namjoon is the only other person in the world whose way with words rivals your own. He speaks with a certain amount of care and consideration that make Taehyung jealous. Perhaps, if he were more like Namjoon, he wouldn’t be in this mess. “A jawbreaker is this candy ball that’s really popular abroad,” he continues. “They are huge, big, and sweet—but hard. You can’t bite through them like normal candy. You’ll break your teeth or dislocate your jaw if you try, thus the name jawbreaker. If you want to eat it and enjoy it, you have to suck it down.”

“If this turns into some sex thing, I swear to god—”

“It’s a metaphor, you pervert. Keep up.” Namjoon chastises.

“You’re the pervert,” Taehyung mutters gruffly under his breath, taking a long swig of the vodka in his cup. “Fine. Continue.”

“Jawbreakers have different layers and flavors. The more you suck on it, the more layers you’ll get to experience; but at the end of the day, it’s still all the same candy.”

“I hate this metaphor.”

“You hate it because you don’t understand it,” the older man says sagely, giving his friend a slow head tilt. “It’s really quite simple if you think about it.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Just spit it out, Joon!”

“She’s a sweet girl, Tae. You and I both know that. You approached her because you were attracted to her, but you stayed because she’s obviously more than a pretty face. She’s just not always going to be that easy to digest though—at least not all the time. Sometimes you might get the layer that cooked you dinner for your birthday and other times you might get the layer that thinks nearly nude bar fights are appropriate. It’s still the same candy, just like it’s still the same girl. You have to take your time with her like you would a jawbreaker.”

Taehyung’s ears perk up at Namjoon’s words, panic shooting through him as he questions, “Did she get into a naked fight?”

“Last year. It didn’t start nak—don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung places his cup back on the table, dropping his head forward with a deep sigh. “So you’re saying I just… have to wait this out until she’s ready to be with me again?”

“Well she hasn’t technically left you yet.”

“And you’re sure there is nothing else I can do? There’s nothing here that I’m missing? I don’t want to wait anymore. I just want to be with her.”

“I know that, but if you want to be with her, you just have to accept who she is. Don’t think she’ll change or come running back to you just because you do something extravagant. She’s not gonna suddenly see your point of view or be rescued from her own bad judgement. You’re not actually her hero, Tae. That’s not how life works.”

“Things are fine when she’s not wrapped up in her whole Kiddo persona—”

Namjoon cut him off with an annoyed groan, shaking his head roughly. “You’re not getting it. You say you want to be with her, right? That means you want to be with all of her, including all the shitty ‘Kiddo’ flavors and colors that go along with it.”

“But—”

“Kiddo isn’t just a persona. It’s her. And if you don’t like it, maybe you don’t need to be with her.”

Taehyung wants to argue back, but can’t find the resolve to do so as guilt and shame begin to settle in his chest. He never consciously thought that his favorite parts of you were separate from your rap identity, but he couldn’t fight Namjoon’s words. While he respected the more sexually aggressive side that came with your career, he clearly adored the soft and sweet side of you more. He wonders, glumly, if he’s treated you differently because of his preference, only to be crushed by the realization that the argument proved he had been.

“I’m in love with her,” Taehyung murmurs quietly, making Namjoon sit up. Everyone knew Taehyung’s feelings for you were strong, but no one expected love to be in the cards. Sure, it had been closing in on a year in terms of a relationship, but on the outside looking in, things still appeared fairly casual between the two of you. Your behavior from day one hadn’t changed at all.

“Is that right? Are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, words coming out like a stream of conscious thoughts. “I love her. I’ve known for months. It’s just sometimes… I feel like I get more Kiddo than I do—I mean you’re right, they’re the same person, she’s just one person. I just wanted something that didn’t have to be a part of her image for once. I was never trying to control her or separate her, but I just…” He stops when he can no longer think of what to say, leaning back into the couch with his eyes going up to the ceiling.

“I know,” Namjoon states suddenly, “and she knows too. She’s not innocent in all of this. I told her as much when I saw her.”

This information shocks Taehyung. “You spoke to her?” The older man hums an affirmative sound and nods. “When?”

“A few days ago. She came into the bakery.”

“She came in?” Taehyung asks, voice increasing in pitch as he turns to fully face Namjoon. “Where was I? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Calm down, Tae. You were off. She just wanted donuts, but didn’t want to see you,” he answers with a mild shrug. “It’s probably better that you weren’t there. Jungkook refused to serve her and then Hoseok started arguing with him and threats started flying—it was a mess.” Taehyung groans, knowing that if anything, Jungkook’s actions only made you more angry at him. “But Jin and I were able to calm things down.”

“Do I even want to know what she said?”

“To Jungkook? A lot. Your girl has a hell of a mouth on her. I haven’t heard some of the words she used in years. Seokjin was blushing.” Taehyung lets out a sad laugh, thoughts racing with all the possible things you could have said. Part of him wished he was able to hear all the things you had uttered and seen the shocked look on people’s faces, but he supposed it was better that he wasn’t around. “But to me?” Namjoon continued, “Not much. Things involving your sex life should be private. It’s just going to cause problems in the future if she keeps trying to bring it to the stage. She knows better.”

“So you told her I was right?”

“You were both wrong,” Namjoon replies smoothly. “You shouldn’t have tried to force her hand and she shouldn't have crossed that line. Neither of you were thinking of each other. You can’t be selfish in a relationship.” There is a beat of silence, Namjoon’s statement lingering in the air for a moment. “I know how some people feel about her, but I actually like you two together. In all the years that I’ve known her, I don’t think she’s ever been with someone who cares about her like you do.” Taehyung can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, nodding slowly at Namjoon’s words. “Just give her a little bit more time. Things will work out.”

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. He feels like he’s seen a ghost. It’s been ten days.

“Hi,” you say quietly. You come off as shy, eyes bouncing around the displays, but never settling directly on Taehyung even though he’s right across from you. It feels odd, not at all like how your relationship normally functions. Any other day would have found you leaning the entire upper half of your body on the counter, throwing out suggestive quips as you ordered in an attempt to make Taehyung stutter. Your current lack of confidence is startling, causing Taehyung to stare at you for a few seconds longer than normal as he searches for any changes in your face, hair, and shape. It’s only been ten days, but he knows just how much can change in ten days. Relief floods through his system when comes to find that—physically—you look just as he expects you to.

Finally, he breathes out an equally gentle, “Hi, stranger.”

The tease hits you harder than he intended it to, with your back straightening out and eyes narrowing. “I’m a stranger now?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you in ten days…” he trails off, the sarcastic lilt to his tone making you visibly bristle with discontent.

You should have expected the cold shoulder, given how long you had gone without speaking to him. You needed more time to process than you realized and going to your friends didn’t help. To say opinions were divided on the matter was an understatement. Some people were disgusted by what you wore, while others were furious with Taehyung’s behavior. You were most surprised by Hoseok, who normally sided with you when it came to relationship troubles. This time, however, he turned his nose up at your outfit choice and referred to the various ways Taehyung had attempted to reach out to you as “pathetic and underserved.” Yoongi had no strong opinions one way or the other, but his fianceé had plenty to say (which only served to rile you up again). She couldn’t believe how serious his demands were and how easily he left your house. She wondered, quite loudly, where the sweet and perfect Taehyung had gone.

But it was actually Namjoon’s words that dealt a huge blow to your ego. He dressed you down in a way that only he could, never raising his voice or calling you names, but calmly explaining all of your missteps to you until you felt smaller than a coffee cup. His final words had been running around your head for days: “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but sometimes it pays to be soft. You can’t have a successful relationship if you’re going to be so hard all the time.”

Thinking of his words once again, you inhale slowly to calm the little fires building in your heart. “I’m sorry for that,” you start, taking another deep breath before continuing by saying, “I shouldn’t have ignored you. It was wrong.”

Taehyung takes in a shocked breath of his own at your apology. He had expected a bit more pushback or an apology without actually saying the words. You were never one to easily admit when you were wrong, your pride being too strong for such casual admittances of guilt. Your repentance most often came in the form of covering drink tabs or ordering food. This sort of softness was new to him and all he could feel was thankful.

Leaning over the counter, he grabs your hand in his own and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it, smiling widely when you don’t pull away. “I’m really sorry too. I mean it. I know I must have told you a hundred times already, but I cr—”

“It’s okay,” you stop him, squeezing his hand gently so that he knows you are serious. “Namjoon said that we’re both idiots. We’ve said our sorries and I want to just leave it at that.”

Taehyung lets out a short chuckle at your words, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand because he finally gets to hold it again. “ Well, I would never call you an idiot. I’m more than ready to leave things be if you are. I really, really missed you.”

“I—”

“Hey Tae, can you help out in the bac—oh!” You let go of Taehyung’s hands quickly as he turns to find Jungkook standing in the kitchen doorway, a tray of bread in his hands and his eyes locked on your in a fierce glare. “You really came back here? What? Was there nobody to free off of at the Krispy Kreme?” He questions, audacity laced through his words. It was clear that there was no love lost between the two of you.

You roll your eyes dramatically, spitting out, “Bite me, bread bitch.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise at your insult, visibly tensing up. He opens his mouth to retaliate, Taehyung sharply states, “Don’t start!” Jungkook’s jaw locks in frustration, eyes shooting to his coworker in anger, but Taehyung keeps going. “Not right here and not right now. Seokjin will kill us. Bite each other’s heads off later, outside of the shop. Please!” Although there were very few people in the bakery, it was beginning to gain a small reputation amongst the older crowd for being a place for “rough housers;” Seokjin and Namjoon would crawl into individual balls and die if another incident occurred.

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance, but otherwise relents, quickly placing the tray on the counter. “Hurry up and finish whatever this is. There’s a big takeout order of macarons that we need to get finished before five.” Taehyung nods in affirmation, a pleading look in his eyes that appeases Jungkook enough to send him back into the kitchen.

“I fucking hate him,” you grumble as soon as the younger man disappears through the door.

Taehyung turns to face you, reaching for your hand again only to find that you have shoved both of them in the pockets of your coat. “He’s just over protective, that’s all. You should have seen him when he found out who his sister was dating. Once you get to know him, you’ll se—”

“I don’t want to get to know him,” you state matter-of-factly. “He’s an idiot who thinks I’m using you for fucking donuts. Honestly, who would risk falling in love for donuts? They’re good, but they’re not that good. You can buy donuts anywhere.”

Taehyung stiffens, mouth dropping open in shock as he takes in the full implication of your words. Did you love him too? You had never said anything even mildly similar to him. You didn’t talk about your feelings for him unless pressed and even then your answers were short. Confessions of desire and attraction were saved for intimate moments in your studio or his apartment, where no one but Taehyung could hear them. Even then, they were often cushioned between jokes that led to him scolding you, telling to stop pretending that you didn’t like him. You never seemed close to confessing love, but your words made it appear as though you had been in love with him all along.

“Did you just… say you love me?” He questions quickly, mind still reeling.

“Huh” You question, the confusion that washes across your features slowly melting away as you come to realize the implication of your words. It doesn’t surprise Taehyung when you mutter, “I didn’t say that,” but his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach anyway. The small flame of hope he carried in his heart extinguished momentarily, as he mentally kicked himself for getting his hopes up. He was lucky you were even talking to him again—a declaration of love was just ridiculous. Life wasn’t a hallmark movie. He didn’t know what he was thinking.

Biting back his disappointment, Taehyung swallows before replying, “I misunderstood. That’s not even what you were talking about.” You blink slowly at his words, eyes shining as though you have something to say; however, you just end up biting your lip and casting your gaze down. “Just… please don’t even think about Kook, okay?” Taehyung pleads, wanting nothing more than to grab you in a hug or kiss your cheek to get the physical reassurance that things were completely okay between the two of you. Instead, he settles on asking, “Can I see you after work tonight? I get off at six and I can bring you some takeout.”

You break into a small smile, nodding your head once. “Bring a donut and some hot chocolate and you have a deal.”

You really like Taehyung.

It’s not a secret. Everyone knows it. You would write about him in all of your songs if you could—though, of course, you could never do such a thing. You didn’t want to subject Taehyung to that type of scrutiny, knowing all too well how many problems came along with dating a rapper when they weren’t waxing poetic about their relationships on tracks. People ate up those types of songs, only to place severe judgements on the rapper’s partner as though they were an expert. “You never talk about me in your songs,” he once told you, referencing a song called “Fiancé” that had been released by one of your friends. It was a typical Tuesday night date, taking place during closing time in Baking News as Taehyung mopped the floor around your feet. He taps your legs lightly with the edge of his shoe. “Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“It’s too much work,” you had replied, kicking your feet up so he could mop underneath them. He thanks you quietly, quickly getting to work so that you can lower your feet once more. “People are gonna read too much into it and make all of our lives a living hell. Just as Yoongi.”

“So you’re never gonna write about me?” He questioned jokingly, setting the mop to the side to hover over your seated form.

“I write about you,” you quickly retorted, craning your head up to look at him. He leans down and places a small peck on your lips, going in for a second with a small hum. “It’s just for my eyes and ears only.”

“Don’t you think I deserve to see?” He said, standing again to resume his task. From the kitchen, you hear the telltale sign of metal pans dropping. It’s followed by a loud, yet muffled “fuck” from Seokjin and the laughter is his girlfriend.

“I don’t think you’ll like all the things I have to say about you, lover boy.”

“Hmm…” he hums in a mocking way, facing away from you as he works on a particular sticky patch on the floor. “I’m going to disagree with you there. I like everything about you, even the cheesy love songs you write about me.”

“Who said the songs I write about you are love songs?” You quip, making him turn to you quickly and point the edge of the mop at you accusingly.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me!”

You think you love Taehyung.

That is a secret. No one knows it. You would write about it in all of your songs if you were sure about it—sure that he would reciprocate your feelings, sure that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry when the going got tough and things had to happen that he didn’t like. But you weren’t sure; relationships were always a gamble and you knew the stressors would only grow when your career really took off. One wrong outfit choice had Taehyung turning into your exes right before your eyes. It made you wonder what would happen if you did the wrong collaboration or wrote the wrong lyrics. You tried your best to make it clear to Taehyung that you didn’t want to be in yet another awful relationship filled with fights and arguments, but it seemed like a real possibility regardless of your efforts. It was a tough pill to swallow.

And yet, as you stared at the lanky man seated on your couch, watching as he tried to sneak yet another picture of you wearing the custom, pink bunny ear headphones he got you for Christmas, you knew that you didn’t want to let him go.

“Put the phone away!”

“Just smile for me one time.”

“Stop.”

“I haven’t taken a picture of you in almost two weeks. My Instagram story is dying without. Let me take a picture.” He leans closer, laughing when you move to smack his phone on the floor, but miss.

You groan deeply, shaking your head at his antics. “It was not two weeks. You’re so goddamn dramatic.” You find yourself smiling for him nonetheless, legitimately laughing at him as he moves his phone around to catch you at different angles. After about 10 clicks of the camera shutter, you move to knock the phone away again. “Cut it out, Tae.”

“I’m not finished,” he whines out, though he still continues clicking away.

“Who died and made you paparazzi?”

“I’m better than the paparazzi. I’m your number one fan,” he murmurs, pushing your arms away from his phone. “You gotta get used to this, especially if you’re gonna be the number one rhyme killer in Korea.” He explains, bringing up a potential new tag Hoseok had come up with a few weeks ago.

“That’s more than enough for your Instagram story.”

He huffs in faux annoyance, leaning back on the love seat to scroll through all the pictures he took. “These aren’t even for my Instagram,” he reveals, tone still playful. “It’s for me only. I’m the only one who deserves to see you this cute. I gotta at least have that to myself.” You scoff loudly at this, anger filling your chest instantly. You know that he only means it as a joke, not realizing exactly what he was insinuating with his words—but it still stings, the wound from your previous fight not completely healed. “What’s wrong?” He questions, only to panic when you let out an annoyed grunt and turn around in your chair. It takes it a moment to click in his head, and then he’s sitting up, dropping his phone and pulling at your chair to try and turn you back around. “Baby, it was a joke. I promise, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying that I wasn’t going to put them on social media. Nothing more.”

“I didn’t know studio time had to be kept private too,” you reply sarcastically, planting your feet firmly on the floor to resist Taehyung’s actions.

“I didn’t mean that. Come here,” he says, pulling you with more strength until you’re facing him again. “Don’t be mad at me. You know how I feel about you. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”

You shake your head, trying to remember Namjoon’s words and not start another argument. You fight to keep your voice level as you say, “Sometimes I think I know how you feel, but then you say things like that and I start to question your intentions.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment, eyes busily searching your face for something, though you cannot tell if he finds it. He reaches for both of your hands, cradling them in his gently as though they will break in any moment. “Don’t say things like that. You know my intentions and you know exactly how I feel.”

“I don—”

“I’m in love with you,” he interrupts you, squeezing your hands in his when he realizes what he’s confessed. You’re mildly shocked by his words, eyes widening like saucers. He takes your silence as rejection and starts to ramble. “If you don’t love me back, it’s okay. I’m not… you know I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, so of course I’d fall faster than you. But I can wait for you to fall in love with me too. I waited for months for you to even accept going on a date with me, so you know I’m patient. Just don’t question my intentions, I only want the be—”

“If you love me, then why do you want to have me all to yourself?” You question, voice meek.

He furrows his brows, irritation painting his features before they soften once more. “That’s not… I don’t want to keep you all to myself. That’s not even possible. You’re Kiddo,” he teases lightly, “Loved by everyone and belonging to no one.”

“But, obviously you want to keep certain parts of under wraps. For your eyes only, you know? And I just don’t get how you can say that you love me, but you want to control me like this.”

He sighs deeply, head falling forward as he admits, “It’s just… we don’t have anything, you know? We don’t have a single thing that we do that’s just our thing. Dates in the studio, hanging out in the bakery, watching old movies on my couch, even sex now—it’s all things we do other people too. And I know, I really know that your career comes first right now. I just sometimes want… more.”

You bite your lip, Namjoon’s words once again becoming prominent in your head. Removing your hands from Taehyung’s, you spin around in your chair to face your desk. Taehyung tries to stop you once more, his argument falling on deaf ears as you quickly grab the pink notebook sitting and hand it to him. “Look through it,” you order.

He stares at the book in his hand, knowing exactly what it is, but still unsure as to why you gave it to him. “Baby, what’s in here?”

“You said you want more. There is it,” you answer, before turning back around to face your monitor. The sound of pages turning makes you anxious, so you slip your headphones on and load up a messy track that you had been having trouble with. Time passes by slowly and your heart can’t stop fluttering as you think about all of the pages he has to look through and all of the words he has to read. Taehyung is thorough. He’ll give each page the time it deserves, regardless of how nervous you feel. Time ticks on. You turn up the volume on your headphones.

You do not know for certain how many minutes have passed when your headphones are suddenly knocked off of your ears; all that you know is when you turn around to berate him for his act, his lips are covering yours in a harsh kiss. You only briefly return the kiss, pushing against his chest to get him off of you, though he only moves an inch away from your face. “You’re in love with me,” he accuses wryly, a big smile on his face. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing gently in delight.

“If you tell anyone I let you read that, I’ll kill you,” you respond, though you can’t get the tone of your voice to reflect your words. His happiness is contagious and you can feel yourself soften in his embrace. “I’m serious, Tae. No one is allowed to read that notebook.” Your lyric notebook was something you kept to yourself, only sharing a select few pages with those around you when you were going to lay down vocals. For your eyes and ears only. Sharing it in its entirety with Taehyung was already a big step, never mind what you actually had written in there.

“But, wait. What are the numbers for?”

“What numbers?” You feign confusion.

“The numbers on the last page of the book.” You roll your eyes at his words and he nudges his nose against yours. “No time for lies now, I already know that you’re in love with me.”

“Days without cigarettes,” you mumble. His smile somehow becomes even wider, so large that you think his face might split in two. “I swear to god, Taehyung, if you tell any of the guys about this, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you myself.”

“I love you and you love me and you write love songs about me,” he teases. He hoists you up to your feet, pulling you into his body and wrapping his arms around you. You follow his lead, burying your face in his chest. “You’re even quitting smoking for me. How did I get so lucky to have a woman who loves me so much?”

“Stop it,” you whine, face flushing with embarrassment.

“Stop pretending that you don’t love me,” he whispers, hands moving up to cup your face gently. The way he looks at you reminds you of your first date. It leaves you completely vulnerable. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Donuts and hot chocolate and lyric notebooks. That’s our thing. Nobody else can share those with you or me. Deal?”

“Deal!” He agrees quickly, leaning down as though he’s about to kiss you, but stopping short just before his lips press against yours. “I knew you were a softy,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips before you can reply. You allow yourself to enjoy it.

#taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #v scenarios #v fluff #bts scenarios #bts fluff #v x reader #au: baking news #sailor belle writes

45 notes · View notes