#this felt like one of those songs where I was walking the VERY thin line between poetic and pretentious lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miraclewoozi · 4 months

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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome. or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it.

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader. content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song.

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong.

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.”

He was right.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all.

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say.

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position.

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air.

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done.

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal.

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present.

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort.

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you.

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember.

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter.

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again.

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary.

The urge to just… lean in to you.

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees.

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again.

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly.

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop.

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday.

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare.

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once.

He swears.

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure.

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting.

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway.

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t.

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances.

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise.

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that.

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come.

Eight seconds later… still nothing.

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light.

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug.

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again.

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?”

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before.

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip.

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter.

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh.

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair.

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop.

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders.

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help.

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place.

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head.

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in.

I love them. Thank you, you said.

It’s perfect.

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double.

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead.

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue.

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose.

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late.

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to.

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are.

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob.

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum.

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him.

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen.

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door.

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important.

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair.

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath.

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright.

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened.

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head.

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop.

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together.

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said.

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt. And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before.

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder.

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it.

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush.

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head.

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth.

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you.

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too.

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together.

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try.

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could.

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down.

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better.

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same.

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved.

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person.

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say.

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here.

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no.

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline.

Not enough, but some.

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin.

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky.

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough.

Happy New Year.

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes.

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you.

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow…

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there.

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you.

You could do it, his brain tells him.

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter?

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside.

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said.

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in.

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule.

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all.

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday.

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you.

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change.

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant.

The pouting continued.

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table.

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right?

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling.

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together.

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features.

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road.

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess,

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks.

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer.

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks.

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick.

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone.

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own.

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block.

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths.

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

One.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too.

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again.

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon chwe fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #hansol x reader #hansol fluff #kpop fluff #j writes.#*#so nervous ab posting this. anyway. i wrote this for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee and my deluded ass is gonna go jump in a hole now GOODBYE <3 #vernon fanfic

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anadiasmount · 2 months

Note

TEACHING JUDE HOW TO PERREAR AAA (because you know there’s nothing worse than having a guy just loosely holding onto your hips and looking up at the ceiling as if he doesn’t want to be there) he’s so mesmerized by the way you move your hips but he knows he has to grip onto your hips and grind back and when he gets the hang of it it’s just 😮‍💨😮‍💨

salió el sol is the song i immediately thought of… it’s very much suitable for this blurb 🤭🤭

he had seen you outside waiting in line, watching how you made your friends laugh and danced a bit from the music that played inside the club. he watched you yet again when you walked into the place like you owned it, hair silky, tiny black lace dress, and those high heels that made your appearance like a sexy super model. all it took once eye glance and jude was hooked.

him watching you the entire night as you expertly played and gambled in poker, drank many shots to which you couldn’t get drunk off on, take pictures with your friends and even at one point working the dj booth. oh but don’t get started when the music switched from old r&b to old school reggeaton.

how you jumped from your spot and fixed your dress, throwing your hair back as you walked hand to hand with your friend down to the dance floor, so far yet so close from the vip booths. “where you going?” asked aurelien, patting the midfielder shoulder as he walked off. “gonna step here real quick, wanna see the crowd…” jude shrugged him off, determined to at least catch you, maybe even offer you a drink.

jude could sense you knew how to dance but not so explicitly and intimidating like this. a hand in your hair, shaking your hips side to side with knee bent, then throwing it back onto your friend, ass shaking as you came up with a sly and clever grin. jude locked his lips, leaning onto the railing, continuing to observe you, how you sensually rolled your hips, threw your head back almost in pleasure, your bottom lip between your teeth as you smirked and danced. a fucking expert… jude thought.

he couldn’t shake off the feeling your radiated. the whole club with their eyes on you. you were the show tonight, and he sure as hell loved it. his fingers gripped tight on his glass as he downed his final sip, not denying how gorgeous you were. jude was mesmerized, by you. and he wanted just a little taste even if he didn’t know how to dance himself.

at one point you had looked up locking eyes with the stranger who couldn’t keep their gaze off you tonight. your friend giving you an ‘i told you so’ look when you told her. “starting to get a little creepy don’t you think?” she spoke loudly as you continued to move your hips and ass to ‘baila morena’ that rang loudly in the club. you could feel the beat, the rhythm, the passion, all in every single song. you felt confident and even more so sexy.

“you’re wrong… the night is just getting started!” you wink at her, grabbing her hand and initiating for her to throw it back on you, hyping her every move as chants and praises were heard in the back from your friends and newer strangers.

time passed, your feet a tad bit sore after dancing for almost an hour. you sat at the bar, quietly stirring your drink with the thin black straw with legs crossed. you sense a familiar stare across from you, smiling at the stranger once again. “rude to stare no?” you’re quick to remark, earning a chuckle and him walking to you. “how so?” he said confidently, leaning against the bar with one arm.

“you’ve stared at me the whole night, like some shy boy in a corner, when deep down we both know what you want…” you cocked your brow up, taking a sip of your drink before turning slightly to face him. jude acknowledged you with a knowing nod. “will it still be rude if i ask to buy you a drink?” he offers, hearing how you laughed.

“not at all…”

“i’m jude,” he introduced. he extends his hand to shake yours, your hands fitting like puzzle pieces, “y/n… encantada.”

“i have to say… you’re an excellent dancer,” jude said, making you look up with a look. “quite a show you put on i must say…”

“jealous?”

“not particularly,” jude shrugged.

“then follow me,” you stood up, grabbing his hand once again before he stops you. “w-wait, i -i don’t know how to dance…” he shyly admits. “well you said so yourself, im an excellent dancer? i’ll teach you,” you guided him to the dance floor, cheering when you hear “salió el sol’ by don omar playing in the dj booth.

“first things first is, you can’t be stiff, let the music flow through your veins,” you advised, smiling as you grabbed on to his shoulders and lead him deeper the crowd. “second, it’s all in the hips, if you can’t move them, then it will suck…” you winked, jude giving you a half grin.

ella lo vuelve loco como se menea, bailando pura candela, lo vuelve loco cuando se acelera, y pela

you show him by circling your hips, guiding his hands to grip and feel as they moved. jude feels his pulse on his wrists quicken, the affect you have on him slowly turning him on, not being able to resist and pull you closer. his feet widen a bit, shocking you as you went between them, continuing your slow movement as you gently grinded on him, feeling his prominent abs as you did.

y yo quiero saber cómo es que baila la julieta… julieta baila sexy con la mano en la cabeza

you turned slowly, your back against his chest as jude dragged his hands along your sides. “you sure you don’t know?” you tease, a bit shocked at how quickly he was learning. “yep… have the best teacher on me currently,” you feel his lips trace your ear, your ass on his crotch as you continued to move your hips now more taunting. “dancing so confident… so sexy…”

you close your eyes, head thrown back on his shoulder, a hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck, the other interlocking with the his that circled your waist. “am i doing right?” jude closed the last bit of space, grinding and bucking his hips with yours so sensually, so hot. jude resists the groan escaping his lips as you whimpered softly.

“doing so good jude…”

the two of you are under a spell, bodies contracting and moving flowy. the different shades of light, the music, the tension, it’s all to much, yet you can’t seem to pull away even when you both lose control and are out of sync. jude’s head nestled into you neck as you feel his hard cock on your ass, his hand low on your abdomen pressing your even closer, whispering daunting words that have you trembling to the tip.

lo de ella es playa y arena, se excita cuando el sol la quema, quiere reggeaton, discoteca pa' la nena, se le mete en las venas

“is it supposed to feel like this?” he asked, pressing a feather kiss on your jaw. “like how?” you stutter now his affect on you, feeling the drinks from the entire night beginning to have their affect. “so tender and intimate? so right?” jude was sure of one thing, that he was compelled by you, not just your dancing, everything about you. “answer me, or i’ll stop,” jude spoke, feeling your muscles tense, as you pushed back more, both his hands ln your hips again.

“you should feel more than just tender and sweet… you have to feel it here,” you turn swiftly, wanting to moan at the loss of contact. “you feel it here,” you touch his beating heart, similar to the bass of the music. “and in here…” you brush his temple, jude placing a kiss on your wrist all the way down to your inner flesh.

you’re so sure by the end of the night you might forget his name and let it be as it is. but it’s clear jude has different plans, his strong muscular hand wrapped behind your back as your clung into his shoulders, your cunt allow rubbing against on one of his strong thighs.

“what else? teach me more.”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 1 year

Text

You Are The One That I Want

Summary: after cheating on her fiancé with her co-star Y/n has a big decision to make just before opening night. this picks up right where part 1 leaves off so please read it first!

Warnings: swearing, smut, toxic relationships, cheating. If any of those are triggering to you please don’t read! Your mental health comes first and I’ve got plenty of other fics you can read :) Not proof read so lmk if there are typos!!!! Tumblr hates me so the very end line might not be there 😤

WC: 3.5k

“Hi Roman” Y/n fakes a smile while pulling up the strap of her bra up her shoulder while she carefully buttons her thin shirt up and uneasily sits back to have a conversation with her fiancé. “Where are you? I thought you were at the theater.” Y/n glances back at Harry who was sitting with a slight smirk on his face while staying quiet so he could listen in to the conversation. She slaps his thigh, mouthing over at him to stop. She was already nervous enough to talk to her fiancé after she did what she did but Harry’s silent teasing is only making her more nervous.

“I went out to dinner with some of the cast.” She makes up a quick lie- which wasn’t a complete lie… she is just sugar coating it so she didn’t seem so guilty. She knows what she did is bad- trust her, she really really knows it is bad… but it feels good, it is fun being with someone new, feeling someone new, doing new things. Y/n also knows that she hasn’t been the best to Roman recently. They haven’t been getting along and she hasn’t said the kindest words, but he hasn’t been the best either, he’s said some harsh words. “You went to dinner?”

“Yeah, just a few members of the cast. Nothing big, we just wanted to celebrate since opening night is soon.” Suddenly lying came easy to her. With her costar sitting next to her, hyper aware of every sound he makes while he tries to steady his breathing and buttons his pants back up. “I’m at the theater right now.”

“It’s just some crew and my co-star. Nothing big! I’m dropping off a few crew members and then I’ll be there to meet you.” They say their goodbyes before she clicks the big red button to end the call and slaps her phone on the leather seats. “Never again.”

There is something in her eyes that tells Harry this won’t be the last time it happens. And he is well aware that he isn’t a good man for seducing a woman soon to be married, but it takes two to tango and he wanted to dance again.

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

Days have passed since the dinner. Y/n can’t help but walk on eggshells around Roman, her job is putting on an act but she slips in real situations. She’s never been a good liar, if she’s confronted with something she has to own up to it, acting was only an on stage occurrence for her and she couldn’t risk it with Roman.

He was easy to pick up on her odd moods and was rather sensitive to put the blame on himself when she wasn’t anything but happy- it wasn’t because he felt he wasn’t a good partner though, it’s because he wanted a reason to make her feel wrong for experiencing any emotion but happiness. He was a narcissist of some sorts.

Their relationship was never a healthy one. Sure, Y/n seems like a dick but Roman had a way of manipulating her without even using words. And now she’s resenting Roman for not just the childlike fits and toxic ways, but for not being Harry. Harry was the type she said she hated when growing up. She never wanted an arrogant man who had too much confidence, she thought she wanted a gentle man, the underdog, but she craved the winner, the man who teases her fiancé, and forgot about him the second he got any ounce of success.

But as quickly as they were together the eggshells she’s been walking on begin to crack.

Any noise Roman made irritated y/n, any song he sang, any noise he made, anything and everything annoyed her.

“Just one fucking second, Roman! I literally need one second without your voice and I’d be okay!” y/n yells toward her fiancé while slamming the door behind her. She needed a getaway but it wasn’t like she could skip town when she was constantly rehearsing for the biggest break of her career. “Why don’t you just go to the theater?! Since you’re so happy to leave me everyday.” She sarcastically laughs at him, if only he knew why she was so happy.

Y/n wanted to feel more guilty about cheating than she really did. She wanted to say she felt like such a horrible fiance, cried over the mistakes she's made, beat herself up over how selfish and stupid she's been, but she hasn't. The only crying she's been doing is the sobs that come out of her mouth when Harry bends her over his vanity in his tiny dressing room after rehearsals, her leather pants still on while he's sweating off the black eyeliner, pushing Danny's preppy look off that he has to wear for the ending scene.

Harry made her feel better than Roman ever could. She had to tell Roman anytime she wanted the smallest touch, pull dirty talk out of him, but Harry knows everything. He knows how to touch her, how to make her feel good, how to get her dripping with just one look, how to make her thighs shake with only five words.

With that she grabs her bag and calls a cab before running off to the theater. Hopefully Harry would be there, pacing the floor and whispering his lines like he usually does every time she has a late night theater run. Other than fucking her until her knees give out hes also been great at listening to her rant about Roman, and tonight she was fine with either.

She opens the heavy, metal door, sighing and walking to her dressing room to drop her bag, grabbing her paper script that has gotten messed up after weeks and weeks of sweaty palms gripping it. Y/n steps out onto the black stage, studying all the marks that cover the floor from years of performing.

“Hey.” Y/n looks up, met with Harry's piercing green eyes.

Sighing, She gives him a lazy response. “Hi.”

He pats the edge of the stage next to him, he sits with his legs dangling off, facing all the chairs that would soon be filled on opening night. “What's wrong?” Y/n plops next to him and starts to debate on telling him about all of her relationship problems, as if she hasn't told him enough already. “Me and Roman are still fighting.” Harry nods while giving her a sympathetic smile, as much as he hated that she wasn't doing well, he always got a little excited when she started ranting to him because he knew in a matter of time he would be deep inside of her.

“I’m sorry.” He leans closer to her his lips moving closer to her before he kisses her. He shoves his tongue in her mouth, already sighing out in satisfaction before he feels her pull away. Her lips hover his while her features round,her chin starting to quiver. “I- i can't do this.”

“Why not? I thought you wanted me?” Harry gently pecks her lips, trying to draw her back in, forgetting her problems and letting her engulf herself in him. “I want you but… but-”

“But you need him.”

She softly sobs, letting him kiss her lips. “I need to want him, Harry. He's my fiance.”

Harry sighs, rubbing his dry eyes before leaning back on his hands. “I know. I know more than you, it seems. But every time you get a glimpse of my cock you forget all about him. So what is this?” he gestures between them before slapping his hand back down. “You’re just using me as a fuck because your husband doesnt know how?” She shakes her head, scrambling to her feet while Harry jumps up and walks backstage toward the dressing rooms. “No, Harry.”

“Then what?! Because every night we see each other you go back and forth. I'm not willing to even be civil with you if you want to play these mind games, Y/n. It’s not fair to me.”

“I’m- I’m not trying to play mind games! I'm just confused. I've only been with Roman and I'm just so confused! He's my safety net, he’s easy, I'm already with him, our parents expect us to get married in a few months, I can't back out now because of this!” Harry shakes his head, gathering his bag together, throwing his stuff in before he slams his dressing room door closed behind him.

“It’s that outlandish to be with me?! He's your safety net but you come cry about him to me every night?! I can't do this. You've made your choice with those words and it's obviously not me, Y/n” he spits her name out like it was the most poisonous venom coating his tongue.

She frantically runs after him, swinging the door open and running over to him where he shoves his bag in the car, closing the back door before opening the driver's seat door, ready to climb in. “stop! No. I choose you, okay? I just need time! I need time, Harry. This has all happened so fast. Before I met you I thought I settled for Roman but now everything is completely different and I feel like my life has been flipped upside down!” She cradles his jaw in her hands. “I just need time but I choose you.”

“You're willing to really leave him?”

“Yes. Once the show is over I’ll be done with him, for good. I chose you.”

“Really?” Y/n nods once again, desperate to make him see that he is the one she wants. “Really. I promise. Me and him are over. After the show I’m calling the engagement mom, I’ll tell our family, we will go our separate ways. I promise, Harry. I’m serious. I want you.” His head bows, his jaw going soft in her hands. “I know I come off as an asshole but I do have feelings. I really do want this. I really like you. And honestly, it kinda of fucking hurts my feelings that you chose that douche bag over me. Especially after you told me what he did when he found out you got the part but he didn’t… what a fucking asshole.” Harry shakes his head, letting out a sigh but it’s cut off with Y/n pressing her lips to his, her hand falling to his neck, softly cupping the sensitive skin.

“So we’re going to do this?” Harry asks, brushing her hair back while pressing another kiss to her lips. “Yeah,”

“After the show?”

“After the show.”

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

It was opening night.

The crowd was growing and growing and would continue until every seat was eventually packed and no one else was welcomed to watch the show. There were people outside waiting for the end of the show to get a glimpse of the cast and maybe an autograph or a photo.

“Holy shit. I don’t know if I can do this.” Y/n softly laughs, peeking at the full crowd moment before her and Harry are set to step on stage. “No, you’ve got this. It’s a fucking rush so try to remember what you can.” He grabs her face, pressing his lips only hers before getting in position and waiting for the curtain to rise.

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

“That was fucking amazing!” Y/n cheers while stripping out of her sandy costume, lazily peeling the shiny black bodysuit off of herself, kicking the heels off while Harry pushes his jock danny costume down, slipping his pink cock out of his baggy pants while plants rushed kisses over y/n shoulder while leaning her over the vanity. He pushes her legs apart with his knee and slips his cock inside of her. “We’ve got to be quick” Harry softly laughs, growing a smirk on his Devilishly handsome face.

He slides in and out of her tight pussy as quick as his hips allow, breathlessly trying to get them to cum. “You did so good tonight, love. I’ve been hard since the drive-in scene. I hope no one noticed.” He breathlessly chuckles into her ear, his breath splaying over the sensitive skin of her neck, it washes over her like a heat flash but leaves sooner than she would ever want.

Harry pushes into her so deep the mirror balancing on top of the vanity starts to rattle. He pulls his hand from Y/n's hip, placing it onto the vanity covered in open make up powders and lipstick stains. They both start laughing, but once the banging noise stops their laughs die down.

Their worried glances catch each other in the mirror, making eye contact while the banging from the other side of the door continues.

Y/n's voice shakily calls, “what is it?”

“It's Roman. Let me in.”

The pair's eyes grow wide but Harry's hips never still or slow, his cock still drilling into her plushy walls, hitting stops that make them feel all warm and fuzzy. “Uh- I’m trying to get all of this m-make up off.” she tries to sound nonchalant, as if her co-star isnt fucking her inches away from her fiance.

Harry’s hand comes to slap around her mouth the second he feels her cunt spasm around his thick cock, knowing soon she's going to be whimpering and falling apart around him. “Can I come in?” Her eyes roll back into her head and she tries her best not to make any noise. “Hello?” Roman says again, growing impatient for an answer. Harry’s eyes grow heavy with lust, his hips snapping uncontrollably while he cums.

“No! I'm almost out!”

Harry grows a large smirk, pulling out of her. “You better get dressed and make it quick.” He steps out of the dressing room, but not without shooting her a wink, then greeting Roman and disappearing off to his own dressing room to change into his clothes so he can leave the theater.

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

Y/n thought Roman would at least bring a flower, congratulate her on finally accomplishing what she has dreamt since she was a little girl, but he was hot on her tail the moment he saw Harry exit her dressing room. She started scrubbing her face with makeup wipes (that were sure to irritate her skin later), fixing her hair, and pulling her panties back up before Roman had a second to burst into the tiny room.

Y/n tries to talk to fans, sharing the excitement with them while she snaps selfies and signs the playbills they shove out at her, Harry just a few feet ahead of her doing the same, except he doesn't have Roman in his ear lecturing him.

“Why was he in your room while you were changing, Y/n?”

“We had to get our makeup and wigs off! They do that for us so they just shoved us both in my dressing room.” she grumbles out her made up excuse, then apologizes to the young girl behind the metal barricade and snaps a photo with her. “He still had his makeup on.” She huffs, shooting him a warning look. “Roman, stop. I just finished opening night and I'm trying to sign playbills. Dont ruin this for me by starting a fight.” Roman softly laughs. “I'm not the one starting a fight. Now why was he in your dressing room?”

The anger bubbles up inside of her until she can't control it. Her hands angrily push over her hair. She knows in times like this it's best to take a deep breath, and be mindful of your emotions, but after years and years of putting up with all of his mind games and manipulating she can't control it. Y/n is finally happy in a relationship (even if it is behind her fiance's back) and she's not going to let Roman ruin the start of it for her.

“Because we're fucking! Maybe if you waited ten seconds longer to start banging on the door you wouldn't have seen him leave my dressing room and this whole fight wouldn't have started!” She yells at him over the screaming fans, catching Harry's attention who is only a foot away, in the middle of autographing a hoodie for a fan.

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

After Y/n’s outburst on opening night she's been staying with Harry. She had a feeling nothing good would come out of going back to the apartment her and roman share. The fight would be blown out of purporting and would get taken way too far.

“C’mon, love. We've got to get to the theater.” Harry mumbles on Y/n's lips while she plants kisses on his, her arms wrapped around his neck while his arm holding her waist tight to him. “We can be a little late, they might be focused on the rest of the cast.” Harry laughs at her lame attempt of getting him to stay back with her. “Were the stars, baby honey. We have to look the best.” She sighs, pulling away from him and throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Whatever, I guess let's leave.” Harry laughs once more, pulling her into his side and pressing a light kiss on the side of her head.

“We’ve got to get pretty so we can perform on broadway.” He hums while opening the door to his penthouse, closing the door behind them and beginning their walk to the theater. “Well, you've got to get pretty, anyway. I was just born this gorgeous.” Harry softly jokes and Y/n scrunches her nose at his teasing, flipping him off.

“Oh, I'm just joking, baby honey. You're too beautiful for this world. He presses another sloppy kiss on her cheek and they are off.”

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

Y/n and Harry were pretty nervous for the rest of the cast and crews reaction to her and Harry's affair. They didnt know how her relationship was behind the scene and definitely had no place to judge since she knows the industry secrets, girls sleep with directors and guys sleep with married women with three kids just for a mediocre part on a tv series only to end up having three lines the whole season, her case was completely different. She wasn't gaining anything by being with Harry, in fact she was losing a lot. Losing roman wasn't anything she was necessarily upset about in any way. She was happy she got to end that chapter in her life and start a chapter she was happy writing, spending it with someone she loves and someone who loves her exactly the same. But she knew her family would be disappointed with her, she would lose touch with everyone in Roman’s family that she did have a good relationship with. She's also losing a high school sweetheart, which he wasn't good to her and after years of it she wasn't good to him either, but she's losing the dream of marrying a high school sweetheart, but it was worth it to live a happy life that she's wanted.

It seems like everything is falling into place. She finally got her dream role on broadway, working along with people she would have great friendships with for the rest of her life, along with her lover, she's making memories she will never forget, and she's getting her big start to what seems to be a wonderful acting career since the critic reviews are in for her opening night performance as Sandy Olsson and they have all been nothing short of positive.

“Do you think they are going to hate us? They probably think i fucked you for the role.” Harry rolls his eyes, “They can fuck off,” he flicks his cigarette onto the concrete behind the building before stomping it out. “Because after all you got the part and everyone loves you as sandy.” She gives him a soft smile, stepping into the door that leads backstage while Harry holds it open. “You're right. Thank you, H.”

They step into Harry’s dressing room, sitting in the director chairs so they can start the process of getting their hair and makeup done.

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ☽

“What a fucking rush. Another sold out night on broadway!” Y/n cheers while flopping on Harry's bed, her hair a mess from being pushed under so many different wigs and her skin red from so many different products. He smiles, kissing the top of her head. “You did so good, baby honey. I loved watching you from backstage.”

“You did so good, H! You didn't miss a beat! You got a standing ovation!” Harry cracks a smile, shaking his head. “Oh, so did you. And I couldn't have done this without you, you're the only thing getting me through this. No one talks about how stressful it is.” Y/n leans in for a kiss, her hand pushing into his hair while her tongue slips past his strawberry lips. Harry's hand come up to hold hers, tangling their fingers together

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your engagement ring on?”

Hiiii! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback :) no taglist bc tumblr hates me and keeps glitching and won’t add the last line so I hope it’s fixed now!

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is your engagement ring back on?”

taglist:

@harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @waitingroomharry

@swiftmendeshoran @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @puckshitbitch

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ssstraykiss · 8 months

Text

Enhypen as Taylor Swift songs🫧 (angst. ver)

enhypen masterlist | main masterlist

──●◎●──

➺ Heesung : illicit affairs

"Take the roads less traveled by, tell yourself you can always stop, what started in beautiful rooms, ends with meetings in parking lots" "and that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and stolen stares, they show their truth one single time but it dies a million times" "don't call me "kid", don't call me "baby", look at this godforsaken mess that you made me, you showed me the colours you know I can't see with anyone else, don't call me "kid", don't call me "baby", look at this idiotic fool that you made me, you taught me a language I can't speak with anyone else" "and you know damn well, for you i would ruin myself a million little times"

➺ Jay : 'tis the damn season

"It's kind of cold, fogs up the windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you, there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me" "time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, now I'm missing your smile, hear me out, we could just ride around and the roads not taken looks real good now and it always leads me to you in my hometown" "wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin' and the heart i know I'm breakin' is my own to leave the warmest bed I've ever known" "we could call it even, even though I'm leavin' and I'll be yours for the weekend, 'tis the damn season"

➺ Jake : story of us

"I used to know my place was a spot next to you, now I'm searching the room for an empty seat, 'cause lately i don't even know what page you're on. Oh a simple complication, miscommunication leads to fall out, so many things i wish i knew but there's so many walls I can't break through" "this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less, but i liked it more when you were on my side. The battle's is in your hand now but i would lay my armour down if you'd say you'd rather love than fight" "so many things you wish i knew, but the story of us might be ending soon" "and we're not speaking, and i wanted to know is it killing you like it's killing me? I don't know how since a twist of fate and 'cause we are going down and the story of us looks like a tragedy now"

➺ Sunghoon - tolerate it

"I sit and watch you read with your head hung low, i wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed, i sit and watch you, i notice everything you do, you're so much old and wise and I wait by the door like a little kid, use my best colours for your potrait, lay the table with the fancy shit and watch you tolerate it" "while you were building other worlds where was i? Where's the man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life" "you assume i am fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in the ruins, took this dagger in me and remove it, gain the weight of you then lose it, believe me i could it" " if it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow, I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it"

➺ Sunoo : exile

"And it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it holdin' all this love out there in my hands" "second, third, and hundred chances, balancing on breaking branches, those eyes add insult to the injury" "so step right out, there's no amount of crying i can do for you, all this time we walked a very thin line, you didn't even hear me out, you never gave a warning sign. All this time I never learned to read your mind, i couldn't turn things around, 'cause you never gave me a warning sign" "and i think I've seen this film before and i didn't like the ending, you're not my homeland anymore, so who am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out, i think I've seen this film before, so I'm leavin' out the side door."

➺ Jungwon : Last Kiss

"I do recall now, the smell of the rain, fresh on the pavement, i ran off the plane that july ninth, the beat of your heart it jumps through your shirt I can still feel your arms. But now I'll go, sit on the floor wearing your clothes, all i know is i don't know" "So I'll watch your life in picture like i used to watch you sleep an I feel like you forget me like I used to feel you breathe, and I'll keep with our old friends just to ask them how you are, hope it's nice where you are. And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed, you can plan fora change in weather and time but i never planed on changing your mind" "I never thought we'd had a last kiss, never imagined we'd end like this, your name, forever on my lips."

➺ Niki : coney island

"And if this is the long haul, how did we get here so soon? Did i close my fist around something delicate? Did i shatter you?" "Over and over, lost again with no surprises, disappointment close your eyes and it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down" "were you waiting at our old spot in the tree line, by the gold clock? Did I leave you hanging every single day? Were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? Happy Birthday. Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray? A universe away" "when the sun goes down the sight that flashed before me was your face, when the sun goes down but i think i forgot to say your name, over and over, sorry for not making you my centerfold"

──●◎●──

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cor-lapis-candy · 1 year

Text

Mmm who else wants to think about perhaps a demon playing priest in a church, mayyybe even with Pantalone being said demon?? And playing said role, instead of joining the harbingers he takes to the church and enjoys the benefits of luring people under his control and wasting them away...

Haa, I just wanna think about him with like a long thin tail and swooping horns okay? And what better place then in a church to put a demon!

This is fully GN or I am pretty sure it is (feel free to correct me, and very obviously religious themed so if you're not down to clown in the priests gown this may not be for you!

He was the preacher, a man on the most holy soapbox calling to save the many that would listen, a true Reverand so the people whispered, the last person you would have thought to be a liar, a sinner, a soul burned in damnation and a thing with fingers dipped black in corruption. Yet here you are, pressed to the central altar, his human glamour cast aside and forgotten as his whip-thin tail curls around your wrists, a once soothing voice rumbling with menace as you try to tug it away, anything to give you room away from this thing.

But that's not how this starts, no. This starts with an offer, a suggestion, it starts with bait.

Your family, oh so new in the capital, called into his halls, offered into listening to the voices of his congregation and how they sing praises to the Tsaritsa, and hymns for the cryo archon, and yet there is one voice that carries the whole crowd. The preacher, a man of smiles and softly falling curled black hair, his robes pressed perfectly and a rosary hanging from his gloved fingers as he walks the rows, voices raising as he passes each pew, each line of people, true devotion made into form and yet when he passes your family, the silent ones amongst so many eager parish members.

"You are always welcome here, I am one of the few always on the grounds. I have nothing but time to spare for my dear lambs, we'll have you singing with us yet..."

He had been swift in pulling you from your family, offering an ear to voice what must be troubling you as you had been so quiet, almost silent in the songs he knew you would know, and offering teaching you how to sing the if you lacked the knowledge.

Always with gentle hands too warm for the chill of the eternal winter.

Those words should have been enough to keep you just cautious enough to stay away from the private lessons, but something in how he spoke made the offer too good to pass over. Thus you were always there, after services, helping, cleaning, singing, ignoring how Pantalone's hands felt pressed against your shoulders as he stood behind you, 'to keep you standing straight' was the reason you had been given.

But each lesson was bleeding further and further away from holy worship, where they had once started as help to light the candles now were spent on your knees before the central altar, hands clasped together, bound in Pantalone's rosary as he wanders the pews tending to those that linger, casting off curiosity with whispers of seeking penitence, emptying the hall before his own hands come to rest over your own, broad chest pressed to your back.

A position you would never think a preacher to take, not so casually.

You could feel the warmth of him seep into you, and yet you still shiver, voice silenced as he hums, a familiar song the same one he had been making you sing day in day out, words woven together in the old tongue, the meaning lost to you, never explained even as you had once begged for in the beginning. You had learned that day, when you had whined for the meaning and his hands had come to cup your face, drawing you close and smiling as you flushed, cooing about sins and attending a confession for the sheer greed for knowledge you had shown.

You would wait till the humming became more pronounced before you joined in, everything so learned and perfected, not a single move out of time, not a single thought of how the candles that had been lit were now so dimmed, no flickering light to cast shadows against the walls, only the feeling of the beads weaving around your fingers and the warmth of Pantalone at your back, or they had been.

Soon the beads are being unwound, placed on the altar as wide palms encircle your waist.

"You are so devoted, so easy to lead and so eager to follow, aren't you? But I wonder if the lamb at my alter is as pure as they seem, unfaltering in the face of sin, ready and strong against all that could damn them..."

"I-"

"Shhh, shh, no words little one, just shh. We will test your voice, your faith, and your dedication to me and our archon divine."

"Reverand?"

You catch it out of the corner of your eye, the shift but it is too late, the once gloved hands were now digging into your waist tipped in black nails, no black claws, fingers just as dark as the gloves he had once worn, they flex and tear into the clothes you had worn to the service.

"Oh no little lamb, you know what comes now, what you must do... But once I'm done, there will be no holy man, nor Acrchon strong enough to save you."

The weight of the man, no, the thing behind you keeps you pinned, knees boxed in by its own, chest pressed to the lip of the altar as it further bends into your space. From the corner of your eye, you can see it, the once welcoming face of the Reverand now morphed, soft black curls hiding the flick and curl of horns, once warm eyes nothing more than ash grey things staring you down.

"Now, now that's no way to look at your Shepard, all I wished for is to guide you and you were so eager for it. Now lest your voice fail you, there is singing to be done, hmm"

No matter the strength you may have had, there was no getting away from this thing that wore the face of the Reverand, mind denying the very idea of it being the same person, but when you push away his thin black tail wraps tighter around your wrists, keeping you pinned with only its tight coil. One of the clawed hands that were still at your waist is quick to move upwards, wrapping around your throat, pressing lightly and making the world spin, your head tipping back against the broad chest behind you.

"That's it, relax little one, I know, I know it's all so scary, but you sing so sweetly for me, now let me guide you once more. After all, I still have so much yet to teach you..."

Even as his grip eases, the hand around your throat holds steady, keeping you bent in an awkward position before the world tilts again and your pressed face down on the altar. Body pinned by strong hands, one on your neck and the other your hip, the tail that had held your wrist slipping away, somewhere unseen.

A voice in the back of your head whispers of dreams, and falsehoods, yet that voice still sounds so much like the thing behind you, so much like him, Pantalone. Who would begrudge you if you listened? If you gave in and let the thing, the man that had lead you so far lead you further?

Even if he was leading you down into the abyss with him and his honeyed words, who could ever think to condemn you if they could not see you, not a single witness to the way you shudder and whine as sharp teeth dig into you neck, as bruises bloom an clothes are shed, as the purity of this churches alter is stained with tears and cum.

Not a single member of the parish would ever see who you bend and buck into the press of their beloved preachers cock, you were his lamb, his lost soul to guide, and if anyone ever thought to ask him of you it would be nothing but a soft smile and penitent words on the sins you were working to repent for. Who would ever come to look behind his stand to the small room tucked away just for him to look for little old you, his dear sweet lamb...

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #pantalone smut #pantalone x reader #corcrafting

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hawkins-pd · 2 years

Text

ONLY YOU | jim hopper x oc series.

Warnings: language and mention of injury.

18+ minors & ageless blogs dni.

CHAPTER ONE:

The roads were quiet that night. Not in an eery way, or a way that suggested that anything was abnormal but after a mere three hours and forty minutes, Laurie Matthews finally passed the dreaded ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign that confirmed what she was dreading - she was home.

Despite how bad things had gotten in Chicago, never in a million years did she imagine she would be driving over the Hawkins town line again. Frankly, just thinking of the small town she once called home made her feel claustrophobic.

But she was out of options.

Forest green eyes fixated on the road, Laurie blinked a few times. Lack of caffeine and a long journey was taking its toll on her slowly and for some reason, she just couldn’t get the inside of her sixties chevy buick warm enough. It was November after all, and although Chicago was colder, Indiana had its own chill to it.

The cassette player embedded in her centre console was indistinctly playing some Cindi Lauper song, as she made her way closer and closer to the town.

By this point, it had been nearly eleven years since she had been back in town and things had drastically changed. There were buildings where they didn’t used to be, and stop lights where she didn’t remember them and with all of those things combined, it was hardly surprising when she took a wrong turn - ending up on a darker road without street lights, shrouded by thick trees either side.

“what the fuck. . .” Laurie muttered to herself, while trying her best to pay careful attention to the road ahead for a route back to the shitty motel she was meant to be staying at.

She looked left briefly, just for a split second but by the time she looked back at the road in front of her, there was a figure stood in her path. With one swift movement, Laurie spun the wheel to the right and collided with a metal fencing bollard which proudly displayed the “Hawkins National Laboratory” logo on a nearby fence sign.

Flying forward in her seat, Laurie’s forehead hit the leather bound steering wheel in front of her - knocking her unconscious, with only the image of that /thing/ to dream of.

Laurie’s eyes flickered open slowly, the feeling of the harsh light only aggravating the stinging she was already feeling in her head.

The blonde sat up slowly, wincing slightly as she did so, her hand reaching up to the right side of her forehead to confirm her suspicions of the bruise that she felt forming.

Opening her eyes fully and tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, Laurie slowly rose to her feet, placing a hand on the wall next to her for support. She scanned her surroundings and quickly felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, she wasn’t in the hospital - she was in a fucking holding cell.

“Morning, Sunshine.” An unknown voice spoke to her, snapping her away from her thoughts. He was a relatively skinny man, wearing a deputy uniform with a badge that vaguely read ‘Callaghan’.

“Have you sobered up yet?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Come again?” Laurie spoke slowly, walking a few steps forward to face him through the thick bars of the cell.

“Your little drunk driving adventure last night, you could have killed someone.” Callaghan replied with a serious tone, obviously trying to appear more intimidating than he actually was.

“Drunk?” Laurie began “I wasn’t drink” she finished, arching a brow as she slowly remembered the events of the night before.

While driving back, she had swerved to avoid /something/. Something too fast to be a human and too tall to be an animal. The details were very hazy, but she knew what she saw.

“Sober people don’t crash into thin air.” Agent Callaghan responded, in a nasally tone which was slowly beginning to annoy her.

“Something ran in front of me.” The blonde protested.

“Like what? A wolf?” Deputy Powell chimed in, a hint of laughter behind his question.

“You comin’ Phil?” Powell asked, “Get Flo to process her, I’m dealing up the cards.” He finished.

That’s when it hit her. She was back in Hawkins. The “Flo” the deputy had mentioned was Flo from Hawkins PD, Aunt Flo to Laurie was one of the oldest family friends Laurie had. After the fire in 72’, Flo had been one of the only people that stood by Laurie, so it was a stroke of luck that she still worked here.

“Wait, wait – I know Flo, really well, actually. Ask her anything about me and she’d tell you.” Laurie pleaded, hoping she wouldn’t have to spend much longer in the wretched cell.

“Course you do. What’s your name, red?” Powell asked, nicknaming her ‘red’ due to the crimson hue of the jacket she was currently wearing.

“Laurie Matthews.” She stated, hoping that name no longer held any weight.

The pair shrugged, dismissively, and disappeared down a hallway.

Laurie wasn’t sure how much time passed but after a short while, an older woman appeared, a key in hand and a smug look on her face.

“Dolores, what trouble are you getting into this time?” Flo spoke, using Laurie’s full name as means of severity, as she turned the key in the lock of the holding cell and opened the door, allowing Laurie to exit.

“None this time, Aunt Flo, I promise. Guess I was just. . . really tired.” Laurie spoke, still somewhat confused about the events of the previous evening.

“When Phil told me he had Laurie Matthews in a cell, I hardly believed it. You haven’t called in years, Dolores, you realise you have some explaining to do?” Flo stated, heading toward the hallway of the precinct.

“I know. . I know.” Laurie said with a soft sigh and a shrug. “But I’m back now. . at least for now. So I’m sure we will find a second to catch up.” Laurie said placing her hand on Flo’s arm. “I missed you, Aunt Flo” Laurie finished with a soft, childlike smile.

“I suppose I missed you too. How long has it been.. ten years?” Flo asked, attempting to calculate how long it had been since she had last seen Laurie.

“Eleven in July.” Laurie said with a sigh, trying to push the events that caused her to leave the small town to the back of her head.

“Well. . . It’s good to have you back. It’s good to have you home.” Flo stated, ushering Laurie into a hug, wrapping her arms around the younger woman.

#jim hopper #stranger things fanfic #jim hopper x reader #stranger things #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x oc #jim hopper x you #stranger things x reader #open requests

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rosethornewrites · 4 months

Text

T & G reading since 1/22

Finally getting back to reading more!

Finished

Teen:

Constant Companion, by athena_crikey

“You are not stupid, and what happened was an accident,” Lan Zhan tells him.

Standing above him, snow melting wetly on his coat, Wei Ying looks a little too wide-eyed, too defenseless. Not at all like the dark-eyed gloss-lipped creature he’s seen flirt with half their year, full of confidence and charisma. “I – of course it was. But it was also definitely the height of stupidity. Lan Zhan, I broke your arm.”

OR: Recovering from an unfortunate accident, Lan Zhan harnesses the power of guilt to do the one thing no one else has managed: make Wei Ying take care of himself.

these colours fade for you only, by doodlebutt (17 chapters)

What if, before Wen Chao found Wei Wuxian in Yiling, Lan Wangji went looking for him?

What if...

"Tell me who did this to you."

"Aiya, Lan Zhan, I really don't know what you're -- ah!"

Lan Zhan tugged hard on the blue line that bound them together, and Wei Wuxian all but flew across the room, crashing into the bed with a pained groan and sinking to his knees on the floor. He supposed, slightly hysterically, that this must be something like what Jiang Cheng had felt when he had hit Wei Wuxian with all the force of a biting insect the day after his rescue.

"You have no spiritual energy."

"Haha, Lan Zhan, that's funny, because actually it's just that I --"

"You have no golden core."

This diverges from MDZS canon rather than CQL (so no yin iron, etc)

Title from Sunlight by Hozier (which is SUCH a wangxian song it actually causes me pain)

Always walked a very thin line, by tucuxi (2nd in a series, 6 chapters)

Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, demonic cultivator and perpetrator of the massacre at Qiongqi Way, destroys the Stygian Tiger Amulet three days after his nephew’s one-month ceremony.

His family's safety has been assured: Jiang Cheng is in command of Lotus Pier, Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Ling are ensconced in Koi Tower. The Wen Remnants will be secluded and guarded in the Cloud Recesses, where Wei Wuxian trusts Lan Wangji to look after them, even when Lan Qiren disapproves.

Wei Wuxian destroys the amulet before negotiations over his own life start, which may, in retrospect, have been foolishly shortsighted.

* * *

In which Wei Wuxian survives a negotiated cease-fire, the Yin Iron is destroyed, and being alive when you expected to be dead is much harder than anyone expected.

Bigger than the whole sky, by tucuxi (5th in a series)

In a universe where the ambush at Qiongqi Way ended differently, Lan Wangji watches Wei Wuxian destroy the amulet and accept imprisonment, argues for the safety of the Wen Remnants, and struggles to figure out what on earth is going on.

Last tea first, by marhalf (2 chapters)

"Whichever rumors were whispered, of hatred, enmity, and despise between those two, these were far from reality. If this man truly hated Wei Wuxian, she would happily swallow her needles."

Let's fix wangxian agenda! Short fluffy wangxian story, settled in Burial Mounds, if Lan Zhan had been made to stay.

as love and its decisive pain, by doodlebutt (2nd in a series)

Bonus content for these colours fade for you only: alternate ending to chapter 8 (with added violence as requested...)

Whatever Lies Beyond This Morning, by KingdomFlameVIII

You're telling me they never made out in that cave? Ridiculous.

Regardless of Warning, by KingdomFlameVIII (3rd in a series)

"You shouldn't spend so much time with the dead ones," Lan Wangji said.

"Oh, are you jealous? You needn't be. I don't find their company as…" Wei Wuxian walked his fingers up Lan Wangji's sleeve, "... titillating as yours."

"It is unnatural," he replied stonily. "Tricks like these will harm the body and–"

"--and the temperament, I know," said Wei Wuxian . "You've told me enough times. I thought we were past all of this. I thought… that you understood. Why I. Why I have to be like this."

Tenderness, by snowberryrose (2 chapters)

in which Wei WuXian takes the Wen Remnants somewhere else

Or: some people live

General:

coop d'état, by wolfsan11

“Lan Zhan?!” Wei Wuxian asked in some strange smear of horror and delight. Never let it be said that he wouldn’t approve of his husband’s rule-breaking, but it wasn’t often that Lan Zhan did it so blatantly. Last he’d checked, No pets allowed in the Cloud Recesses was still a valid rule amongst the 4000 or so carved on the wall by the entrance.

Lan Wangji remained silent until they were right up against the low wooden fencing that seemed to have sprung up there overnight.

“I have not stolen these ones,” said Lan Wangji, which was at least a little reassuring considering the last chicken gifts, fair enough, but still did not really explain the situation!

Or, Wei Wuxian finds himself the proud of owner of five chickens, while Lan Wangji defies the government (his uncle).

What Could Have Been, by tucuxi

Crumpled at the base of Koi Tower’s long stairs for the second time, Jin Guangyao presses his face into the stone, takes a deep breath despite re-broken ribs, and arranges his features as carefully as he knows how. Then he stands, moving carefully around the pain, and bows deep, arms held straight and true. The walk back up the steps to his father's side is painful enough to wipe the smile from his face; it is not painful enough to prevent him re-taking his place as seneschal, bowing again at the top of the steps. As he straightens, he prioritizes his plans for his father’s demise over all else.

CQL - kidfic (Everyone Lives with Knives AU continuity), by tucuxi (3rd in a series)

Ficlet in my "Everyone Lives With Knives" AU series.

Written for my "Fuck off 2021" holiday cards to friends.

CQL - scheming (Everyone Lives with Knives AU continuity), by tucuxi (4th in a series)

Ficlet in my "Everyone Lives With Knives" AU series.

Written for my "Fuck off 2021" holiday cards to friends.

Day 4: Time Travel, by UseMyMuse

Lan Sizhui knows his parents are happy, but he wants to fix things so they never had to suffer. Against his better judgement, he goes back in time, though he isn't sure if things will turn out the way he expected.

someone like you, by Basingstoke

Teacher Wei Wuxian gets a student just like him.

Written for Lan Qiren Week.

An Unsuitable Match, by westiec

He's proud of his boys. All he wants for his nephews —all he's ever wanted for them—is to be good men and to be happy and loved in whatever ways they desire.

So Lan Qiren does not mind at all that Wangji is gay. But why, out of all the young men in the world, did it have to be that no-good Wei Wuxian who captured his nephew’s heart?

Lan Qiren is a good uncle

mirror, mirror, by hauntedotamatone

Some people take him at his word, believing that they must have heard wrong about the child Jiang Fengmian had taken in all those years ago. They haven’t exactly heard wrong, but he isn’t lying either.

The first time Jiang-shushu had introduced him as the son of Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, he had thought his face would split from the force of his smile. No one had argued with the sect leader, but Wei Wuxian is not a sect leader, and those of Gusu Lan do not seem to take kindly to any sort of correction. At least, if their esteemed teacher and acting sect leader is anything to go by.

or; Wei Wuxian attempts to sneak into the Cloud Recesses for a very different reason.

Unfinished

Teen:

every world, every universe, by glitteringmoonlight

It is well-known that the resources offered by the great clans simply cannot be matched by smaller sects. The greater clans have the most renowned techniques and the best teachers. They have built their reputations over centuries, striving to be the best of the best. It is these clans that most young cultivators aspire to join, and so, they have their pick of recruits and are free to pick the best of the best. To anyone in the cultivation world, it is unquestionable that the great clans reign supreme.

It is, thus, quite understandable that even Wen Ruohan— a man largely known for being arrogant and unflappable— looks surprised at the announcement that the first place in the archery tournament has been won by the Head Disciple of the Tingshan He sect.

Or, Wei Wuxian is raised in Tingshan He. Some things change. Some do not.

happier than ever ver. 2, by Edith343redwood

A modern AU where Jiang Cheng betrays Wei Wuxian....how will he react?

General:

A Street Kid Named Wuxian, by NaoNazo

“Pffffff- ahahahAHAHA!” The kid curled up, resting one hand on his stomach while he used the other to smack at Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “That was close!” he giggled.

Lan Wangji was starting to think he’d been saved by a madman.

“... Thank you.” He bowed as best he could while seated and prepared to make his way down.

“Wait wait wait!” The kid grabbed at his sleeve before he could shift away. “If you go down like that, you’re just gonna get caught, y’know!”

Lan Wangji looked down at himself and back at the kid, raising an eyebrow.

The kid propped himself up on his elbows and gave him a blatant once-over, obviously holding back laughter. “You’re wearin’ all white, genius. Even if you scuff it up a bit and take off the girly ribbon--” Lan Wangji scowled reflexively-- “no one around here wears stuff that nice.”

Lan Wangji had to admit he had a point.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #cql #chen qing ling #untamed fanfiction

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mrs-ulysses · 8 months

Text

a love letter to Hozier

Dear Andrew,

I spent the summer thinking I might have been a lesbian, but then I got your last album and fell in love with you.

I’m writing this because I’m a writer. I pitched the idea of an essay about having a celebrity crush to my friend, explained the crush and she said, well, you should write him a letter.

I’m 31, so I wasn’t ready to have a crush on a singer I’ll never see in my life. I feel like a teen, and I don’t like it. Maybe because it reminds me of how old and lonely I get. My friend says, but Sasha, it just means you’re alive, and your heart is finding ways to feel something.

The line between acting honest and acting crazy is a thin one, especially for women, but hopefully I’ll walk the line.

What not to love about you, though? A tall man with a halo of golden hair; a man who says “capitalism is a cult”; a man who supports the weakest; a man who sings of love that wins over death. The embodiment of everything I ever wanted in a man. What a sweet unrest it brings.

The algorithms of social networks are kind to me: they show me more and more videos from gigs and interviews. I feel shy when I see your face, or hear you speaking. I’ve always been the invisible one, a quiet admirer, mesmerised by the beauty. If we were in the same room, I’d probably try not to look at you at all costs, as if my love is a beam of light, and, reflected from you, it’d burn me down.

As you said in an Q&A I watched the other night, one can’t truly experience love without experiencing the sorrow. When I feel the love, I’m scared; I can sense the destruction this feeling promises.

I had a dream this week; don’t worry, it’s a decent one. We were together and I was sad, and you tried to comfort me; the moment i’m trying to describe is quite hard to grasp: I woke up with the feeling of a soft breath on my neck and the electric sensation of beard touching my skin.

It was so real, surreal. It never happened, but I remember it.

I’m an amateur of love, but a pro at heartbroken.

There’s a difference between knowing and being. I’ve always been in the knowing team, but this year I rejected knowledge: it felt exhausted. This letter is my attempt to be.

I’ve been identifying as queer for a couple of years. The word queer is handy because it allows me to not provide any explanations; it’s a way to quickly say “I feel like an alien here and still I am painfully aware I’m human”.

I’m trying to figure out who I am, and I think I am a possibility: a possibility of many different lives.

I’ve never understood—and always admired—those who are just sure about themselves. How can anyone declare themself to be any one thing, and not the other? I support it, but I know I can be both, given the circumstances. I am both.

I think, loving someone is not about their sex or gender; loving someone is about the soul alignment, and maybe a bit of fate. Loving you and listening to your songs helped me to pave the way to myself, the one I lost in three last heartbreaks.

Having a crush on an unfamiliar person can be considered comfortable: I easily can avoid the content I don’t like and consume the content I prefer: where you sing certain songs or your hair is of certain length, or, or, or. I can cherish your explanations of your own lyrics, and ignore something else. Maybe I don’t ignore anything now, but nevertheless it is an imaginary relationship, a true love towards an imaginary person.

But aren’t all persons around us imaginary? Don’t we always ignore the boring stuff and highlight the great stuff about those we love?

The paradox of love, I think, is that we usually fall for people who are very similar to ourselves, and yet meeting them unlocks some doors in our hearts that we were unaware of. So we need to inhabit ourselves again, and we see these people as our best guides. If life is a journey, we’re not the travelers, but the place that’s being traveled.

I decided I want to explore this crush; one of the most interesting parts of it is the end. When will it happen? How? Why? Right now I can’t believe that at some point I’ll stop sing along to Take me to church, or cry to Francesca (I have a 4’ video of myself crying to it, and still do cry, even when in public). I was walking with my headphones on, and thought: what if it is happening right now, as I’m listening to the Son of Nyx? And I felt frightened. I don’t want this feeling to go. But I’m still mesmerised by your smile, I checked. I still smile back.

Will all my love,

Sasha

#love letter #hozier #essay #crush #celebrity crush

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jameui · 3 years

Text

SPECIAL PRESENT 1

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

(P.S. so i was fucking dumb to actually think that when you said performance, you meant by performing on a stage, when you actually meant, how male reader actually did good in school. I was too late to notice. sorry. if this didn't reach your expectations.

The school's foundation day is fast approaching and each student at Resonance High are all excited preparing for that certain day. During the school's foundation day, events such as competition in sports and performances like singing and dancing or spoken poetry. All sorts of event takes place in that particular, not only a day, but a week, that every students can take part in.

The school's foundation day does not only happen after a day. It's a week of celebration for the foundation and, of course, free from homeworks and projects that students have to worry about. All their focus must be on having fun on those days and be active in participation. Some students never liked the thought about celebrating a foundation day, but you on the other hand, thought otherwise as it's your first time celebrating it with a friend, since you never really get to do it with any due to you practically being locked up in your house for almost all years of your life.

Now, you were away from your family and you got to finally do anything you wanted. For example, having a sugar daddy who gave you all the help you needed. Sure, at first, you were just doing it out of mere fun, but you never quite expected to actually grow feelings for the older male. You didn't know when it started, but the first time you ever felt the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach was when he became worried and concerned when you got sick after a very excessive practice, the day prior. You wanted to tell him so, so bad, but you didn't know how to.

You were scared that maybe you were crossing the line or coming off too strong or maybe he'd walk away if you broke the agreement. It first started with just you only being up for it because of the agreement. Though, you never really went as far as you giving him a good blow or having a steamy bath with him. Either way, he was still someone you could trust and the only person you could rant about all your problems. The thought of losing all these scared you the most.

Unlike some other people, Jaehyun was smart and was a successful businessman, owning one of the richest companies in the industry. Jaehyun, when he's not busy, he'd help you out with your math homeworks or would just do it for you, since he found it fun and easy. Sometimes, you think he's Einstein, reincarnated.

Jaehyun, besides his brains, is also fun to be with. He knows about your passion and talent for singing and dancing and your once dream to be an artist, so he would sometimes play loud music in the living room through the speakers and you two would be singing along, him making up lyrics when he have no idea what the song artist's saying in their song. He'd sometimes call them drunk, because they sounded like they were slurring their words, which you would always laugh to. Also, he'd let you teach him a few dance steps you saw on tiktok and you'd record it together, only for the fun of both of you.

You were seated by your section's booth and couldn't help, but crack a smile from the thought. That was until one of your classmates decided to cut the moment. "What's with the smile?" Jeno, one of your friends, questioned with a smirk whilst carrying a case of bottled apple juice, placing it beside the stand of the booth.

"Here to tease me, again?" You scoffed at him, as he shrugged his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him and stood up from your seat before heading to the school's gate where the rest of the important necessitated items are waiting. You skipped along the way and stopped by the pick up truck that was parked at the parking lot. "Anything I can help with?" You asked with a smile.

"Here's the last of 'em." He gave you two cases of the bottled drinks, one stacked above the other making you grunt.

"This is heavy." You muttered under your breathe, your thin hands barely holding onto the handles. "Th-thanks." You told them your feet wobbling from the heavy weight of the trays.

Jeno who came walking back outside saw you struggling, making him chuckle deciding to help you. "Need help with that?"

"Yes, please." You said before passing the trays to Jeno carefully, so it doesn't topple over. "Thanks." You smiled at him, cracking your knuckles and shaking it to reduce the pain you felt on your hands.

"Welcome." He said, then walking back to the booth, with you beside him. "Ah, M/n. By the way, are you attending the practice this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?" You chuckled, kicking on a pebble that came your way.

"Oh, I just thought you'd be busy sucking your daddy's—"

"JENO!" You yelled at him with an evident blush on your face cutting him off to avoid anyone hearing what Jeno had to say. It's always been like this. Since the day you told him about having a sugar daddy, he'd always tease you no matter where you are or what you're doing. He'd always use your excuses against you and now, you're regretting ever telling him.

"Okay, okay. Damn." He laughed at your reaction, you staring daggers at him.

Just as you were about to spat back at him, you heard a group of girls' voices calling out to you. "M/n! M/n! M/n!" They were successful in gaining your attention, while they smiled running up towards you. "M/n! You didn't tell us you have a handsome brother..." One of them said, while batting their lashes.

You knitted your brows in confusion. "I have?" You asked the girls, who looked like they knew better and nodded their heads. First of all, you don't have a brother, but you have three sister, two are older and one is younger. Second, you don't even know who these girls were and yet, they mysteriously knew your name and who you were. "Wait, who are you talking—"

"M/n-ah." You heard that sweet raspy voice of the man you loved, your head snapping towards him who stood by the side of your booth. You guessed he was on his break, since he was still in his suit and it was already past twelve in the afternoon.

"Jaehyun!" You giggled as you ran to him, all the while opening his arms for you to throw yourself in. You gladly complied and wrapped your arms around him, the lot older male doing the same as he hung his long arms on your waist. You snuggled into his chest before you looked up at him to see him already looking down at you with a smile that displayed his deeply carved dimples. "What are you doing here? Aren't you busy?" He made you giggle when he patted your head and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"I wanted to see my baby." Jaehyun replied, then pouting. "I've been so tired lately."

You furrowed your brows in concern and hugged him tighter. "Can't you take a three days off?"

"I want to, but I got to keep the company running if I don't want it to fail." He answered you, making you nod your head.

Once the girls saw these, they quickly felt embarrassed and walked off without making a sound, Jeno laughing at them.

"Then, why don't I treat you to something sweet? How's that?" You wanted to do something for the older and this was the only thing you could ever think of.

The pout was still glued to his face when he looked back down at you. "Angel, we agreed that I would do the treating."

"Well, you're the one who needs my help, right now, so I want to do something for you, other than..." You cleared your throat and mumbled, "...the other things I do for you."

Jaehyun chuckled, as he finally gave in to your offer while he ruffled your hair. "Alright."

You pulled away from him once he had loosened his grip from around your waist. You took him by the wrist and told Jeno that you'd be somewhere else, leaving Jeno with the rest of the responsibilities, promising him to make up to it.

You were leading Jaehyun to the canteen, before he gently pulled on your hand. You turned your head towards him, your eyes moving down to where he held you. You chuckled and smiled. "What's wrong?"

"Can... I hold your hand, M/n?" The question took you aback, only since he never really asks those type of questions. Ones he only asks are some that goes by the line 'can you suck my dick?' or of some sort.

"Sure." You managed to smile from the obvious shock that got Jaehyun a little red. "You didn't even have to ask." You added to which he nodded to shyly. It would be times like this when you would forget that he is a good thirty years old because of his cute personality.

You two finally made it to the canteen, the taller male receiving a lot of stares from all those present inside. Jaehyun was yet to spot the attention he was gaining, but you were already feeling iffy even though you knew that those heart eyes were for Jaehyun. But, you couldn't help the feeling that those eyes didn't like you being around Jaehyun. "J-Jaehyun..." You squeaked out silently, tugging on the sleeve of his suit, taking his attention whilst smiling down at you. His smile faltered upon noticing how you looked subtly shaken and cowered in fear. "I.. I think we should leave."

"Baby, what's wrong? You look so tense." Jaehyun asked you out of pure concern, cupping your cheeks as he gently tilted your head upwards, so you could face him, but you removed his hands from your cheeks that got him almost shocked since you'd never really let yourself move away from his grasp, instead you would usually just lean into his touch and let yourself succumb to the warmth he was radiating, but this. This was different and he knew exactly that something was bothering you.

"Can we go, please?" You sounded like you were begging for you two to quickly move outside, leaving Jaehyun with no choice, but to nod his head and let you drag him out of the place. Alas, you were outside, but he never received even a word from you nor a hum, a sigh, nothing. Just complete silence.

He grew more worried thinking that he might have done something that he shouldn't have or said something that made you feel so uncomfortable. He was getting anxious as you continued to keep your mouth closed and never said a word. "Baby, you know you can trust me, right?" Jaehyun caressed your thumb in a comforting manner, his eyes showing how much he truly cared for you and how genuinely worried he was. He was scared that he might have done something wrong to you.

He himself never knew how it got to this. At first, just like you, he had only intended to find some fun in the relationship you both had and not actually grow some feelings towards you, but the first time he ever met you, all he ever had thought in his head was to protect you at all cost and give you everything you wanted, spoil you with all his money and riches, give you forehead kisses and pleasure that can make you see stars. Since the start, he only thought of this as something platonic and that it was a part of the agreement you both had consent on, but as you two got to spend more time together, he always felt something blossom inside of him. He always looked forward to every day, mainly because he had you to wake up to. His usual stoic expression, completely turned into those that said 'sunshine' all spread out on his face. That's when he completely knew, it was not only the benefits he was up for, anymore. It was you and his love for you.

He was just your usual workaholic man, who had nothing in his head rather than work, work, and work. Not until the day he bumped into you on that one faithful day, when you were so drained from all the studying you had to do and decided to buy coffee. You were so intimidated by his face that he got you cowering in fear when you turned to look up at him. The only courage you could muster was so small that you were only able to give him a polite bow before you entered the coffee shop to buy your favorite cappuccino coffee.

He was so intrigued by you that the next day, during that same time, he waited for you in that same exact location, but you never showed up. Until later. You were so shocked from the sight of him. You feared he'd beat you into a pulp, so you hid your face with your hand, hoping he didn't see you, but luck wasn't on your side that day and decided to let Jaehyun notice your presence.

"Hey, I—"

"Sorry, sir. I'm quite busy, right now." You immediately cut him off and got inside the shop, Jaehyun following suit. Your eyes made its way back towards the older who was following behind you closely. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him, retracting his body from looking through your shoulders, throughout the whole time smiling down at you with his dimples showing. "Excuse me, sir, but do I owe you with something?"

Jaehyun pursed his lips, thinking before smirking and leaning closer to your face, with you, all the while, pulling your head back. "Yes." He answered you with his hands shoved confidently inside his pants.

Your gaze averted from his mesmerizing eyes to the table that supported you and kept you from falling. You gulped and felt your lips go dry. "D-do you need money? I don't have much, but will 7,000 won be enough?" You fondled through your pockets and took out your wallet.

"What? No, no." He chuckled, one hand taken out from his pockets and scratching his eyebrows while he sighed. "I have an offer."

Your brows were pulled together looking up at him, curious. "What is it?"

"Give me your number and I'll tell you over the phone."

And that's how it all started. Of course, he told you about lying that you owed him something, either way you were thanking the God above that he created you as gullible as ever.

As of the moment, Jaehyun could only feel his nervousness rise as he continued to stare at your back. "M/n, please say something. You're making me feel so worried."

"Jaehyun..." You finally stopped walking and spoke, before throwing yourself into him, the impact suddenly taking all the air inside Jaehyun's lungs away. "Don't leave me... please." You pleaded, your arms around him going tighter.

Jaehyun softened and felt himself get blanketed over with relief. He raised his hand to put it on top of your head and caressed them softly and soothingly. "I won't, M/n. I promise you."

In the end, Jaehyun was the one who treated you with something to eat. You were sat at a bench near your class' booth, Jaehyun next to you, while you swayed your feet back and forth. "Hyunnie." You called out to him with a new nickname you came up with, Jaehyun choking on his burger letting out a few coughs while you patted his back, laughing. "How the hell do you eat a burger that it got you choking on it?"

His coughing finally stopped and looked at you with a surprised face. "The nickname. You never called me that before."

You pouted in reply and blushed in embarrassment. "Do you.. not like it?"

"No, of course not." He was quick to shake his head, then cleared his throat, looking away. "It's cute."

You were able to see the pink tint painting his cheeks that you always found cute, since it's a very rare sight to see. Teasingly, you peeked over and was able to confirm that he was, in fact, blushing from just the nickname you created. "Oh my gosh, you're blushing." You cooed and immediately, Jaehyun scoffed, facing you to land a small kiss on your lips that got you widening your eyes and wiping away the mocking smile you had on your face. Your fingers made its way up towards your lips, unable to speak.

"Now, tell me who's blushing." Jaehyun smirked.

You glared at him, but instead of feeling intimidated, he found it cute. "I'm just surprised, since you never really like to, er, kiss me on the lips." You whispered the last part, loud enough for only you and him to hear.

You two were so happy in each other's company, that you both forgot that Jaehyun had somewhere else to be. That being his work. He wouldn't have noticed the time passing, if it wasn't for the alarm he had set, knowing he'd lose track of time when he's around you.

You walked him to his car and saw him off, waving your hand at him, not leaving until he was finally out of sight. You put your hands back down and sighed happily, walking back towards where you should be: at the booth where you should be finishing the preparation.

"So, how was the quick date?" Jeno asked you with a smirk, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back inside the hole that connected it to the shirt, showing his perfectly built muscles.

"It was great! Save for the part where I received death glares at the canteen. That felt terrible." You shuddered at the thought, but smiled again. "That aside, it was great."

"Your schedule didn't change? Are there still room for practice later?" Jeno asked you for the nth time that day. He's been asking you since you entered the classroom.

"It didn't, Jeno. Why are you so eager with me being present in the practice?" You chuckled at him, deciding to help him pack the treat bags you will give out to your customers.

"I just can't be left alone there with people I don't know. I'm an awkward person." Jeno told you.

"Jeno. You're literally known by all the students here and you're scared because they're strangers to you? I bet they all even want to be friends with you." You said, but Jeno just shook his head, his hair moving along with him.

"No, M/n. You must and need to attend the practice, either way." Jeno demanded of you.

You rolled your eyes at him and sighed deeply through your nose in defeat. "Fine, fine." Jeno's eye smile appeared and let out a small 'yes' making you chuckle.

"Hey, M/n." A voice started from outside the booth and saw a girl with her arms crossed, looking down at you whilst you seated at the ground. You looked up at her, but she didn't look friendly. She looked angry than friendly.

Your eyes flickered toward Jeno, then back to the girl and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Don't give me that smile, you whore." She spat at you, all of a sudden.

Your eyes closed shut, your mouth wide open and your forefinger raised up while you pushed it towards her way and scoffing. Your eyelids tore open and you smirked at the girl. "Excuse me? Whore? Who you calling a whore?"

"Listen, midget—"

"No, you listen here, Barbie." You said, a mocking tone with the last word. "You full on plastic, bitch. Get away from my sight. You look like a parasite."

The girl gasped in shock and opted to pull on your hair, but Jeno held her by her wrist and angrily stared at her. "You heard him. Get away. I'm not afraid to punch a person, even a girl, if they're purpose was to mistreat and shame on an innocent person." Jeno threw her hand away like it was trash, sending the girl from moving two steps back before stomping her foot and turning on her heels to walk away.

You could still see Jeno glaring at the girl while you looked at him in shock. "Wow, wow. Look at you."

"Sh. I'm not done yet." Jeno hushed you, before he continued his work. "You were saying?"

"Nothing. Was just shocked you told that girl off. I could have handled myself just fine, but thanks to you, I'm saved from causing a ruckus." You said, Jeno huffing through the nose.

"Seriously, you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and knitted his brows. "Stop making the problem bigger."

"No way. I need to put up a fight. If I don't, they'd see me as someone weak." You defended yourself.

"And you can't even handle death glares that's being sent towards you?"

You were about to speak and fight back, but he was right. "That's... that's a different matter."

"Sure, it isn't, M/n." He said rolling his eyes.

Later that afternoon, past 5 p.m., you and Jeno excused yourselves from the class, since you have a dance practice for your performance on the opening of the foundation day. Out of habit, you skipped beside Jeno who was happy that you got to attend the practice today. Again.

You never really liked the person who choreographed the whole song. It was under a genre you thought you could never pull off or fit in, so your confidence was at a very low level. During practices, though, you try your best not to make it obvious that you were uncomfortable for that certain concept, but you still had to be seen making a lot of mistakes, some of the other students who joined clearly agitated. You could only bow and bow and bow at the mistake you knew you clearly had done, feeling guilty for the reason why always had to start again from the top. The reason why you never really got along well with these students.

You have arrived at the practice room, taking quiet steps as you both entered the venue trying your best not to make a sound. The intense gazes you received from the other students didn't come unnoticed by you, the reason why you pulled your knees closer to your chest as you buried your face in it. Clearly, they were enjoying those two few days you were absent, since they got to finish practice early and with no interruption nor mistakes. But, now that you're around, they knew exactly what awaited them.

Jeno saw you curled up into a ball and eyes making its way up to the students who looked so angry with you making him frown. "M/n. Don't mind them. You're actually doing even greater than them." He tried to cheer you up, so you acknowledged it with a smile.

"Thanks, Jeno. But, I don't think that will change the fact that my uneasiness with the dance is the reason why we have to start over and over again." You sighed and placed your head back down on your knees, Jeno drawing circles on your back.

A moment later, the mentor came walking in, displeased to see you present. "Oh, welcome back... M/n." He stated before you could hear those loud snickers coming from the students. You and Jeno were the first ones to stand in position, the others following suit. The mentor's face lit up with an idea on his mind. "Can everyone please take a seat for a couple of minutes?" He smiled, then looking at you. "Except for you, L/n."

Jeno's eyes fell upon you, a worried look on his face, mouthing 'I'll be fine' to reassure him as he sat back down along with the other students until it was only you and the mentor left standing. "You think telling your 'boyfriend' about me would scare me?" He mocked you with your head still hung low. "You have to try better than that." He smirked, pulling a chair to seat on it. His legs were on either side of the chair, so his chest was pressed upon the back rest of the chair to face you. "Start."

You were startled by the sudden order and went into position, but you only started fidgeting out of fear. "Where... I.. sir.. Do I stand—"

"L/n!" He yelled at you, making you jump from the sudden raise of his voice. You knew telling Jaehyun was a bad idea. "Fix yourself, will you? The performance is due tomorrow and you're such a mess." The misery you were caged in were the happiness of the students as they started to giggle, your fist clenching hard until your knuckles turned white.

The music started, but you were still nowhere from moving your body. You just stood there, head hanging low while gnashing your teeth. You weren't angry at the mentor. You were angry at yourself. You were angry that you couldn't do any better. You practiced the dance so hard, yet it were still so far from perfecting it. You just wished some kind of spirit would possess you and lead your body.

The whole place started to laugh at you as they watched you shamelessly froze on your position. You felt a small jab on your ribs that made you open your clenched fists and saw Jeno standing right beside you with a grin on his face, your expression softening as he started to lead the dance. Slowly, you felt your own body move to the beat and rhythm of the song, being at the same flow with Jeno. The students only watched while the song ended.

A slow clap from your mentor was heard, a smile plastered on his face. "Way to impress me you two, huh?" He stood from the chair and waisted his arms. "L/n." His eyes moved to you, expecting yet another scolding. "I'm proud of you. Keep up that confidence and I just know you'll do great." You felt a smile creeping its way up to your face, before the mentor closed in on you and ruffled your hair. "Alright, everyone. From the top."

-----

The practice ended at exactly eight o' clock in the evening and you were already feeling drained, your sweat soaked shirt sticking to your body. Your forehead glistened with sweat, that ran down to the side of your cheeks. You panted heavily and flopped your body down on the polished floor.

Why that late you ask? Well, you and Jeno decided to stay for a few hours to polish the dance, him pointing out your mistakes and going back to the steps to correct you. You were grateful Jeno was a very patient guy, so whenever you made a mistake or wasn't executing the dance properly, he'd just chuckle and help you with your 'cute mistakes', at least that's what he called it.

"Finally..." You panted, Jeno settling himself beside you, his limbs sprawled all over the floor. "Done."

"You did so great, M/n! I knew you could pull this off." Jeno gave you a compliment that made you giggle, a hand on your chest to catch your breathe.

"And it was all thanks to you." You told him.

Jeno shook his head. "Ey. The only thing I did was help your body to loosen up."

"Exactly." The cute noises coming out of your mouth once more. "Do you think we should practice more?" You asked the older who moved his head to look at you.

"Still up for one more?" He smiled knowingly at you, while you nodded at him. You both stood up from where you both lied and you went to your position with Jeno moving to the speakers to play the song for the last time.

The minute you both finished, you were so exhausted that your knees couldn't hold themselves up anymore and you fell to the ground, groaning. You were panting heavily, starting to even your breathing at the same time laughing proudly at yourself for how well you've done. "When I get home, I'm gonna take a shower and then, throw myself on the bed and sleep."

Jeno could only laugh and you two were left with half an hour talking about all the things in life. You listened to him rant about how the mentor was being more harsh on you than the other students, but you only shook the topic off telling him that it no longer mattered and that he should already move on. You had also thanked him for helping you, during that time when you had to do the dance routine all by yourself. You really didn't know what else to do than to just stand there and sulk.

A few minutes later, both of you were now starting to pack, Jeno having to make a quick visit to the restroom, leaving you all alone inside the studio. You were changing into a dry shirt, when the voice of the janitress from behind the window made your body go tense as you jumped and turned towards her. "Oh, fuck." You sighed out in relief, holding your hand close to your chest. "You scared me, ma'am."

Her eyes turned into those that looked like crescents and smiled. "My bad. Probably shouldn't have passed by unannounced." She nodded and proceeded to mop the hallway floor.

You were about to ask her about a certain matter that was troubling you, but when you lifted your head to face the woman, she was not there anymore. "Uh.. probably left for something." You shrugged it off and went back to scrolling through your feeds, the certain feeling of being watched sending chills down your spine. The silence was so deafening that you started to whistle to a song you were currently into, just to help calm the unnerving feeling. You started to feel all the hair on your body stand on its end when a very harsh opening of the door sent you off flying, then to the ground your heart beating so fast. "Shit!"

Jeno was obviously confused why you got so scared by him just pushing the door open, but he was also laughing at your state which made you glare at him. He helped you stand back up to your feet, as you dusted your pants from any invisible dirt. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You scared the shits out of me. That's what happened." You scoffed at him, hitching your back higher onto your shoulders. "Let's go." You two vacated the room, making sure to lock it, but you told Jeno not to since the janitress was still yet to finish cleaning, but Jeno was greatly puzzled at what you had said.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Jeno laughed lightly before proceeding to lock the door and hung an arm around your shoulder.

"I saw her through the window." You added.

Jeno shook his head in disbelief and didn't fall for your trick to scare him off. "First, the school does not hire a janitress or a janitor, since they have working students. Second, so the dance major students don't get distracted, the window inside the room is tinted, so you basically don't see anything outside."

You felt your heart sink at the revelation as you felt all your blood get drained. "Are you... s-sure?"

"Yeah." Jeno answered your question. You slowly turned your head back towards the room, the windows and saw a black figure waving their hands at you that made you sprinting off to the entrance, leaving a dumbfounded Jeno as he followed behind you. "What the hell, M/n?"

"Shut... up! You were not the one left inside the dance room, so you wouldn't know how much I'm fucking scared, right—"

"M/n!"

"FUCK!" You screamed on the top of your lungs, stomping your foot and punching the air for no apparent reason. "Jaehyun, you... nevermind. Just take me home, please. I think I'm already fucking wasted." Jaehyun, who was on his casual attire, approached you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

#x male reader #bottom male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #fanfiction #kpop #nct #nct x male reader #jung jaehyun x male reader #jaehyun x male reader #jung yunoh x male reader

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thestruidora · 3 years

Text

Landslide

The Avengers (MCU) Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Shower Sex, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Fluff, Oral Sex, thigh riding, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Dominance, Submission, Knotting, Scenting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Rutting, Rut Sickness

Category: F/M

Pairings: Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.

Author’s notes: Did y'all miss me? Yeah, I'm sure you didn't.

If anyone is interested in getting to know the magical music genre called forró, I chose a couple of classics that I feel like definitively played on the reader's first and only June Party: O Xote das Meninas Xote Dos Milagres Cintura Fina Morena Tropicana

Shout outs: @captainchrisstan, @keenkiddeputynickel, @danidv011, @ballyhoobarnes, @pophbfdsxa, @crashbarbie, @readermia, @musicnowandforever661, @bianaguipa, @deezy-061 Thank you so much for your guy’s support!

For those who missed it: Chapter One >> Language Barrier Chapter Two >> Bilingual Chapter Three >> Miscommunication

Chapter Four

Gibberish

She can still remember the laughter. The giggling that came from the back of her throat as she threw her head back, a smile full of teeth spread through her lips. The exhilaration of being with her friends, dancing her heart out.

It was her favorite time of the year. The sounds of the June Party moving on her feet. The rhythmic vibrations of the music's beat coursing through her. The songs, the speaking, the dancing: all at once ringing in her ears. One of her very first alcoholic drinks running through her veins along with all the spinning making her dizzy.

She was the happiest she’s ever been.

Every year her older cousins would travel to the countryside of Bahia's state, where the June festivities were the most elaborate. Her mom, so controlling, so protective, would never let her go. But on the year of her 14th birthday, she begged a little more strongly, pleaded a little more fervently, and now there she was.

It was so much more than she could ever have imagined. Bigger, louder, an explosion of newness to her senses. A big contrast to her secluded life in the city, because everybody knows that being a woman is hard, but being an Omega is harder.

Her mom was mated only a few hours after presenting, a few hours into her first heat, to a man she barely knew and definitely did not love. But still, she was one of the lucky ones. She could have been robbed, kidnapped and trafficked. Because Omegas are rare and the demand is huge, so presenting as one was as good as a death sentence.

But she was still young, she still got time.

And now, finally outside of her mom's vigilant eyes, with her girlfriends dancing by her side and the pulse of the *forró guiding her body she could allow herself to be carefree.

“Rapaz, que secura!” Lana screamed, complaining about the heat.

“É, tá um calor desgraçado.” Gabriela agreed, fanning herself with her hands, droplets of sweat trickling down her forehead and into her exposed cleavage.

Y/N simply laughed at her friends, they were a couple years older than her, but not necessarily more mature. Of course it was hot, they’ve been dancing for a long time, and even in the open space with the night air hanging over them, the place was so crowded that they would barely move while trying to get to the open bar.

She watched as the girls got their beverages, gobbling them down as if they were the first drinks they had in ages. But suddenly, the permanent smile that had been plastered on her face throughout the night died, something curious shifting inside of her. It was a unique feeling, one she never experienced before. It had started as a tightness in her lower abdomen, but it was growing into a sharp pain.

“Você tá bem?” Lana asked if she was ok, noticing the grimace in her features.

She tried to shake her head yes, but it came out the exact opposite as she doubled down on herself, her hands pressing on her stomach as she frowned, the pain becoming unbearable. Were these cramps? Was she about to get her period in the middle of this party?

But no, it wasn’t that. Somehow in the back of her mind, she knew this was different. She had begun to sweat, but not from the crowd or the dancing, there was this intense hotness forming within her.

She noticed a couple of men standing on the edges of the party space, in the shadows, almost camouflaged. Their eyes were predatory, fixated on her, they shined with a sinister glow, reflecting the flickering red light of the bonfire. Her friends called to her, guiding her to walk across to one of the tables, helping her sit down. When she looked again, the men were gone. Was she going mad?

“A gente vai ver se encontra Ibuprofeno, fica aí.” Gabriela said this time, or was it Lana again? They left, said something about looking for painkillers, she wasn’t paying attention, the pain was too much and so were the smells. All of the sudden, she felt like she could smell every single thing and every single one in the whole place.

She could smell the perfume, and the liquor, the sweet and the savory foods, altogether but also individually, it was overwhelming. She could smell the people, not their body wash or their shampoo, but their true scents. Some were warm and some were cold, some too strong and others too bland. And then there were two that were getting closer, too close, and these stung in her nostrils. Her vision had gone blurry and she couldn’t tell much of what was happening around her at that point, but she knew she wasn’t alone.

Shaking from the pain, shivering even though she was burning up, she looked up just fast enough to get a look at the two men from before, standing right behind her. One of them covered her eyes with his hand and the other covered her mouth. A muffled scream and a couple of weak punches were all she could do before they pulled her up from her chair, completely immobilizing her.

She trashed and struggled about, but to no avail. They were big and strong and she was small and frail.

“Shhh, Omega.” One of them whispered in her ear, and as if under a spell, she did just what was asked of her, her free will hushed. Something about his voice, and their touch, turned the pang in between her legs into a tingle.

And that’s when she knew: she had presented and this was her first heat.

They dragged her pliable body into the woods of the rural countryside, the sway of the forró getting left behind, her mother’s voice playing on a loop inside her head, “Be careful”, she always said.

Everything went dark, she could only make out flashes of information. The roughness of their hands and the graveness of their voices as they spoke to each other, laughing to themselves about how much she was worth, the way they sniffed at her neck, exhaling with satisfaction.

At some point, the grass of the forest turned into asphalt underneath her feet, and she was blindfolded and tied up, her lips taped as she was thrown into the back of a car. She could only whimper, her heat burning inside of her.

Shifting in and out of conciseness, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, couldn’t differentiate hours from days anymore. From time to time she would feel the prick of a needle going into her arm, and then it was all darkness again. She remembered being cold, shivering about as more rough hands grabbed at her. Were these the same ones from before or no? Had Lana or Gabriela reported her missing? Was anyone coming for her?

Eventually, it all stopped.

There was a cushiony softness below her, a thin sheet of fabric above her. When Y/N carefully tried to open her eyes, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was greeted by light. Not the warm sunshine that often peeked through the windows of her bedroom in the mornings, but a cold, harsh light that came from a singular light bulb attached to the ceiling.

No longer tied or muzzled, she slowed sat up in the single bed, looking around. There was nothing covering her figure but the bedding, not even underwear. She found herself in a tiny room: four concrete white walls, a small barred window and a closed door.

Her heat was over, she could feel it, no more fire burning in her loins. She disentangled herself from the bed sheet, getting up too quickly, ignoring her nakedness and the dizziness, heading straight for the door. It was locked, of course.

Finally feeling sober enough to allow the rage to bubble up inside, she began to furiously bang on the door with clenched fists, kicking it, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Hey!” A male voice boomed just outside, appearing suddenly, as if he was already waiting right there. “Yapma!” He hit the metal of the door, hard, making it shake slightly.

She retreated, startled, analyzing the situation. She had no idea what he had said, but gathering from the brutality with which it was uttered, it couldn't have been good. She didn't even know where she'd been taken, but she had an idea why.

More male voices were spoken on the other side of the wall, in that language she did not know. Something electronic beeped, then it let out a subtle ping sound, and just like that the door was sprung open. Two men walked in, the first thing she noticed was the gun one of them was carrying, while the other came in with a paper file in his hands. She backed away into the corner of the room, trying to cover her exposed chest and genitals with her hands, their big Alpha bodies taking over the space, making her feel even more intimidated.

“Nasıl hissediyorsun?” The one with the file said to her, his words sounding like a reserved recording to her brain. He was older, maybe in his late forties, greying hair at the top of his head, a light blue suit framing his ample shoulders.

When she didn’t answer, simply stood there against the wall, trying to control her labored breathing and the sheer fear that had taken over her body, causing even her inner organs to shake, he gave her a once over, opening the file and scanning through whatever was written there.

“Brazil, huh?” He arched one of his brows. “Can you understand me now?” He asked her, deliberately enunciating every word.

Y/N swallowed the sigh that was trying to leave her lips, staring at the gun, wide-eyed.

“Dumb bitch.” The man in the suit murmured to himself, snapping a finger in her face, getting her attention. “You’ve been on sedatives for a long time, little one. How are you feeling?” He said it as slow as he could, as if speaking to an animal. “Do you got a tummy-ache or a headache?” He rubbed his belly while saying ‘tummy’ and touched his temples while saying ‘head’.

She only frowned at him, a crease forming in between her eyebrows. He scoffed, leaning forward, letting his light-colored eyes roam over the valley of her breasts.

“Or maybe you’re just cranky cause you didn’t get no Alpha dick inside that tight little pussy yet.” Before he could finish his words, she was already propelling the whole weight of her body into her closed fist as she punched him in the face, fear turning into fury.

“Oh!” He growled, covering his bleeding nose, quickly walking away from her, face contorted in pain. “Shoot her!” He yelled at the other man, who promptly pointed his gun at her.

“Não!” She shouted out, closing her eyes and attempting to protect her face with her hands. A blunt sound echoed in the room and she felt something sharp go into her leg. Before she had enough time to come to the conclusion that it was tranquilizer dart, her eyes rolled back into their sockets and blackness welcomed her once again.

Five years had passed with her locked in that place, slowly forgetting where her mom’s face wrinkled the most when she was angry, or the exact shade of her eyes, the particular timbre of her voice. Y/N was slowly going mad, losing all hope of ever being rescued by the hero that always came to her in her dreams.

She was fourteen when she was taken, highly prized for her young age and virginity. They tried to sell her to the highest bidder many times, but she fought like an Alpha. Biting, roaring at anyone that came too close. Some of the men even began to doubt she was a real Omega, but ever so often her heat came and it reminded them. Emir, the big boss of the operation, sometimes would come to her doorstep during those times, tap at door and use his Alpha voice, laughing when she had to bit her own lips to control the moans his presence was causing.

But in the end, she wasn’t genetically compatible with anyone, and even those that wanted her for her fierceness were disappointed to find that her DNA did not match with theirs. A part of her was happy she had never been sold and probably never would be, just for the simple satisfaction of knowing that her body wouldn’t give those men any profit.

So there she stayed, locked up, imprisoned, hearing the sounds of the other girls crying in their rooms while she got on her tiptoes, trying to catch glimpses of the outside world through her only window, waiting.

It had been a while since she last saw Emir when the door made it’s telltale beep and was opened by him, but this time, he wasn’t alone.

“Hello there, my Latin beauty.” He smiled an evil smile at her, but she didn’t pay it any mind, focused on the redhead woman that was beside him, looking at Y/N with sorrow in her eyes. “See, Widow? I told you my girls are gorgeous, look at her.”

The woman let a displeased noise at his words, coming closer to Y/N, who gave her a distrustful look.

“Hi, I’m Natasha. What’s your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” Emir answered for her.“Oh, and she doesn’t talk.”

“Excuse me, what do you mean?”Natasha turned to him, her short red locks moving with her.“She’s mute?”

“Nah, she just doesn’t know any English.”

“Oh.” She gave the girl one more pitiful stare, but Y/N felt like she was looking right through her.

Leaving the facility was like a dream and a nightmare all at the same time. While finally being free was wonderful, Y/N knew that such freedom would come at a cost. The woman, Natasha Romanoff, wasn’t the best at Portuguese, but knew enough of it in order for them to communicate.

Y/N didn’t say much when they gave her a suitcase full of brand-new clothes and guided her out of that God-forsaken place. She didn’t say a word when a dark-haired man tried to take the suitcase from her hands, Natasha said his name was James and that he was only trying to be chivalrous, something about the 1940’s that she didn’t quite understand.

She remained quiet as Natasha tried her best to explain to her that a man’s life was at stake, that Captain America was dying of a terrible rut sickness, and that he was compatible with her and her alone. That yes, she had been bought like cattle, but it was for noble reasons, because Steve Rogers was an honorable man, a hero and his destiny was in her hands.

She kept all of her thoughts to herself as Natasha pulled up a ‘Rut Companion’ contract, stipulating that once Y/N had served her purpose and Mr. Rogers was out of danger and well, she would receive a large sum of money and could walk away from all of this, go anywhere she wanted and do whatever she pleased. Even after signing it, she resigned herself to silence.

And of course, she didn’t say anything when they boarded a jet to the United States, not even a word about the fact that she was actually fluent in English.

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

love

a/n: hi hi !! here is another fic inspired by one of my fave bts songs <33 hope u all enjoy lmk what u think !! pls excuse any typos

bucky was cold and sad before you, now he is warm and happy, most of all, he’s in love

word count: 3k

masterlist

Bucky woke up from another nightmare, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He let out a shaky breath, looking around his empty apartment. He got up and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror before tearing his gaze away.

Bucky didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, busying himself until sunrise, when he left his apartment and walked to park nearby.

That’s where he met you.

You were playing fetch with your dog, nearly tumbling over every time he jumped on you to get the ball from your hand, laughing as he would sprint away from you, tongue sticking out.

Bucky smiled at the sight, wishing he had a let of his own. You caught him staring at your dog and smiled, saying a quick ‘hello!’ and calling for you dog to come back.

Bucky returned a smile, the path he was on leading him towards where you stood. Your dog bounded over to you, ball in mouth and dropping it at your feet.

“do you wanna pet him?” You smiled at bucky, your dog staring at him wearily as he stopped near you.

“uh- he doesn’t seem like a fan” Bucky chuckled and you shook your head, scratching behind your dogs ear.

“he’s just protective, his name is ace” you smiled, walking towards Bucky slowly, ace following suit and sniffing at Bucky’s boots.

Ace warmed up to bucky quickly, sitting at his feet and waiting for his payment of pats. Bucky smiled, crouching down to pet him, the dogs soft fur against his hand made him smile.

You smiled at the interaction, thinking of what to say next, you knew this was the Bucky Barnes and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

“I’m y/n” you spoke as Bucky got back up, putting his gloves back on quickly. He turned to face you, a charming smile on his face.

“I’m Bucky” he replied, blushing as he finally saw your face, and wow were you breathtaking.

Your eyes met and you both blushed, you struggled to find words to keep the conversation going, not wanting him to leave so soon.

Is this love?

“why are you up so early” you asked, throwing the ball so ace could chase after it, still full of energy.

He paused for a moment before answering, “just an early bird” he smiled, you nodded. “what about you?” he asked, standing next to you as ace came back, dropping the ball at his feet this time.

“i have to tire him out before i go to work, so i gotta wake up early” you smiled, yawning not long after. You blushed and mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and Bucky smiled at you.

Ace pranced back, no longer wanting to run around and play, only wanted to get back to his cozy bed and lounge for the rest of the day.

“we should get going, this guy makes me carry him to the car and up the stairs if he’s too tired” you laughed, bucky smiled and said goodbye, giving ace a few final pats before saying goodbye to him too.

Sometimes i know, sometimes i don’t

Bucky thought about you and your four legged friend for the rest of the day, wondering if you had always been there when he went for walks, was he too caught up in his own mind to even realize?

Bucky felt the day go by fast, feeling lighter than he had been the day before, talking to his neighbors a bit more and feeling tired by the time the clock hit 12 am rather than the usual 3 am.

He woke up early the next day, another nightmare shaking him awake, checking the clock it read 5:54 am, the sun barely about to rise.

He got up, changing and washing his face, brushing his teeth and heading out the door in 30 minutes.

The sun was up as he walked to the park, keeping an eye out for you, and sure enough there you were, this time throwing a frisbee to entertain ace. You looked exhausted and bucky felt a pang in his chest, how long did you sleep?

Your gaze me Buckys and you smiled brightly, perking up a bit as he walked closer.

“good morning bucky!” You smiled, ace running towards him, his frisbee in his mouth as he jumped to greet the super soldier.

“good morning y/n, and good morning ace!” He smiled, putting on a higher pitched voice for the dog who wagged his tail happily, hitting the mans leg with the frisbee.

Bucky took the frisbee, throwing it so ace could chase after it, you both smiled at your dog, running as fast as he could to catch the disk.

“how’d you sleep?” You asked, noticing the bags under his eyes, he shrugged.

“as well as i usually do. You?” He asked, trying to mask his concern.

“it was okay, wish i could’ve gotten more though” you smiled rubbing your burning eyes before throwing the frisbee once more.

Bucky nodded in agreement, the two of you making small talk until you and ace left once again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked, putting a leash on ace and walking with Bucky towards your car. Bucky smiled brightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow” he replied, already looking forward to it.

You are the one who will give meaning to my memories

For two weeks you and bucky met up and played with ace at the park during early mornings, sometimes walking around the park and talking about your days and what you had to do. Neither one of you prying too much, just enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky reminisced on the memories with a fond smile as he told Steve about you.

“no yeah she’s great, her dog is really cute too” bucky spoke, giddy to see you on Monday.

“why don’t you ask her out then?” Steve questioned and bucky shook his head, not knowing how he would even approach the situation.

The following Monday you greeted bucky with a smile, ace bounding over to him in excitement.

As the two of you fell into routine, Steve’s words rung in his ears, deciding to take a leap of faith.

“would you- do you maybe wanna get dinner someday? together?” Bucky asked, a charming smile on his face as ace wagged his tail, looking up at you, almost as if saying ‘do it! say yes!’

“uh- yeah I’d love that” you smiled at bucky, both of you relieved that the you weren’t alone in wanting more time together.

Before i knew you my heart was filled with straight lines

Bucky was excited for your first date, putting on his best clothes and getting some flowers for you on the way, knocking on your door and heading aces familiar bark.

You opened the door, wearing a nice and casual outfit, letting Bucky in and thanking him for the flowers.

“I’m gonna just put these in water, feel free to sit down” you smiled, hurrying around to finish as quick as possible.

Bucky nodded, taking a seat on your couch and looking around, your home was so, homey. Ace smiling proudly as Bucky pet him.

“okay shall we?” You laughed and bucky smiled, saying goodbye to ace as you closed the door and headed out. Bucky offered you his arm and you gladly took it, walking down the stairs with your arms linked.

“ace makes you carry him all the way up these?” He asked in shock and you nodded, letting out a small chuckle.

“don’t let him fool you he is very evil” you teased, Bucky widened his eyes and nodded his head.

“note to self, never get on aces bad side” he smiled as you laughed, continuing to make easy conversation for the rest of the night.

Bucky found himself being nicer to Sam and the rest of the team, hanging out with them more and even cracking jokes.

“you don’t stare anymore” sam spoke, a smile on his face as steve turned to look at bucky.

“Hm, he doesn’t” steve smirked and bucky rolled his eyes.

“got tired of looking at your face is all” he snickered, making the two other men laugh, bucky took a sip from his beer.

“he’s seeing a girl y’know” steve whispered and bucky groaned as Sam cheered. Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you. It had only been a week since your first date and he already wanted to take you out again, despite having seen you this morning.

I’d like to be in your novel as a lover

Time passed and you and bucky got closer, going on more dates and texting each other during the day, even calling each other when one of you couldn’t sleep.

Bucky told you about his nightmares, telling you how he would always wake up, too afraid to go back to sleep so he would wait until sunrise and go for a walk.

You told him how you had trouble sleeping, sometimes your mind would just never stop, other times you just had too much work.

Within two months bucky has asked you out, a bouquet of roses for you and treats for ace, he has set up a picnic for you during the sunset, getting your favorite foods and talking the entire evening, finally asking you out when the moon had risen.

I’m just a human, you erode all my edges and turn me into love

You made bucky a better person, teaching him his self worth and to be proud of who he was.

“Bucky wake up, angel it’s just a nightmare” you shook him gently, ace watching from the foot of the bed.

Bucky shot up quickly, breathing heavily as you placed a hand on his back, pulling him into you after he has calmed down.

“you’re here, you’re with me you’re okay” you assured him, wrapping him in your arms and holding him tightly.

“it was bad, i was bad” he mumbled, tears falling down his face.

“you aren’t him. you are good, you are human baby, you’re my love” he squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on your steady heartbeat as you ran your fingers through his hair, his arm draping over your stomach as he slowly fell back to sleep.

Buckys nightmares became more scarce, he became happier and less cold, embracing who he was.

He was also helplessly in love with you, constantly buying you flowers, taking you out on dates, taking care of you when he could, writing you letters, and so much more.

You make live to a love

After coming into his life you made bucky a better person, you made him into the person he always wanted to be.

Bucky no longer walked with his head down, rather he walked with a set gaze, giving a kind smile to strangers on the street and helping those in need, helping the others his friends when they needed him and even volunteering at the local animal shelter when he could.

Because of you i know why a person should live by love

Before you bucky would punch his way out of all his fights, he would be hot headed and angry if he got into an argument with someone on the team.

Now he was understanding and patient, listening to what the other had to say and looking to reason with them, taking time to communicate. Bucky was sympathetic, not wanting to fight every villain they came across, instead trying to reason with them. Between him and Sam, usually they didn’t even have to fight.

I live so i love

“angel? I’m home!” You called out, ace greeting you at the door, smiling at the freshly cooked dinner on the dining table, it was your favorite.

“Happy one year doll” Bucky smiled as you turned around, hugging him tightly and kissing him all over his face.

“buck i don’t know what to say” you smiled, still in awe of all he had done.

“don’t say anything, just go get changed and let’s enjoy our night yeah?” He replied, kissing you once more before letting you go.

You were thankful he opted for a night in, exhausted from work and wanting only to be in your lovers arms. And you did exactly that, spending the night dancing in your living room, laughing at his bad jokes and sharing stories.

“okay best pick up line go” you smiled, excited to see what he would say.

“not really a pick up line but” Bucky paused, looking you in the eyes. “It’s a long way from I to U, fuck JKLMNOPQRST, i crossed all the letters and i reached you” he smirked, loving the way your heart raced at his words.

“now i know why you were such a ladies man in the 40s” you whispered, crashing his lips onto yours.

If i go would you be sad?

“God james cant you just shut up and listen to me for one second!” You stated, voice raising out of frustration.

“well maybe if you could get it through your stubborn head that it wasn’t my fault maybe I’d stop having to explain” Bucky spoke angry, his voice steady as he clenched his jaw.

You were upset he had kept you in the dark about an ongoing mission, he was upset you didn’t realize he had done it to keep you safe.

“you keep saying you did it to keep me safe, James i was almost killed because i didn’t know! How is that keeping me safe?” You spoke, anger boiling over as you sat on the couch, wanting to just sleep.

“if i had told you, you would have never let me be as protective as i have been! You wouldn’t have taken your vacation days because you’re too stubborn” Bucky spoke, still standing across from you.

“I just need some time to think” you spoke softly, Bucky’s heart fell. We’re you gonna leave him?

“I’ll go” Bucky mumbled, already moving to pack a bag.

“bucky stop” you spoke, making him stop in his tracks. “sit down i don’t want you to leave, let’s talk about it angel” you sighed, wanting to just work it out and be in his arms once more.

You’re my love

Bucky was excited, everything had been planned perfectly. He had woken up at 4 am, getting everything ready for the following morning.

He had driven to the park with Sam and Steve who helped him set up the picnic, a blanket laid out with fruits and drinks along with dog toys to play with ace.

It had been nearly 4 years since the two of you had met, he knew you were the one for him.

As the sun rose you woke up, getting ready to take ace out with Bucky, only to find the two of them gone.

Just as you finished getting ready bucky walked in, a smile on his face.

“goodmorning doll, let’s get going yeah? already got ace in the car” he smiled and you thanked him, heading out the door and to the park.

when you arrived you immediately saw the picnic.

“buck what-” you began and he cut you off.

“just because” he smiled and you smiled, sure he always took you on dates but this was different, it felt more intimate.

As the two of you sat on the blanket and munched on food ace ate some treats bucky had gotten him, excited to play in a couple of minutes.

“I taught him a new trick” Bucky smiled and you raised your eyebrows, sitting up straighter to see ace perform said trick.

“let’s see what you got Barnes” you smirked and he smiled.

“ace go fetch!” Bucky spoke, ace ran from the blanket in a straight line.

“haha bucky, we both know he already knew that, plus you didn’t even throw-” you cut yourself off as you saw ace pick something up, running back towards the two of you. Bucky stood up, offering you a hand so you could get up.

“y/n, i love you, you taught me what love is, you made me into a better person, from the moment we met i always felt like we were meant to be.” Bucky spoke, glancing over to see ace closer to the two of you, a little over halfway back.

“you’re my person, my desire, my pride, my one and only love” Bucky spoke, crouching down and taking the small box from aces mouth, letting him and giving him more treats.

Bucky got on one knee, opening the box and looking at you with bright eyes. Your vision was blurry, but unlike four years ago, it wasn’t from sleep, but from tears.

“y/n, doll, will you marry me?”

You nodded your head quickly, wiping away your tears and smiling brightly.

“yes, of course yes angel” you replied, wrapping your arms around him as he picking you up and spun you around, setting you down and kiss you, making your knees weak.

He slipped the ring on your finger with a smile, ace barking as the two of you kissed once more, pulling away with a smile.

“that has to be his best trick” you joked, petting ace and kissing the top of his head.

“now i gotta train him to be the ring bearer for the wedding” Bucky laughed and you nodded, squinting your eyes as you saw Sam and Steve running in the distance.

“is that-?” You questioned and bucky laughed, the two men cheering as they saw you and bucky cuddled up.

“she said yes!” Bucky called out and the two men cheered, arriving out of breath.

“thank god, he woke us up at like 3 am to get everything ready” sam spoke and Steve nodded, giving the two of you a hug, Sam quickly following suit.

“I’m happy for you guys” Sam spoke, Steve nodding along side him, squeezing Buckys arm before they left the two of you alone.

You smiled as you looked up at the sky, pinks and reds painting the clouds. You turned to tell bucky, but decided against it when you saw him on the floor playing with ace, voice high pitched as he baby talked him.

Your heart melted, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of you life with your two favorite boys.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes angst #soft bucky barnes #fluffy bucky barnes

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Ticket to Ride - Part 6

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine. Here we are at the final part!

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit and my photos of Murano & Burano)

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

{…𝕠𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖?}

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy awoke early the next morning, reaching over to his phone on the bedside table and tapping the screen to see what time it was. Seven. Plenty of time to have a shower and make his way down to the breakfast room.

Standing under the stream of hot water, he couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. What if she had done another runner? He wouldn’t be able to cope with that. He didn’t think she would have, but…. he just wasn’t 100% sure what she was thinking or feeling right now.

After his full disclosure of what he’d got up to with Madani followed swiftly by his confession of love last night, he felt more optimistic but he could tell she was still conflicted.

He’d just have to do whatever he could today to persuade her to give him another chance.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Making your way into the light and airy breakfast room at just after eight, you couldn’t deny you were pleased to see Billy, sitting up super straight like a well-behaved schoolboy, already at a table.

His face broke into a huge smile when he spotted you, and you could see a large measure of relief wrapped up in it. You knew he would’ve been wondering if you had run out on him again. But no, you’d decided overnight to at least see how things went today on your trip to the Lagoon Islands.

He’d thrown you a curveball by telling you he loved you last night, and while you were relieved to hear that he hadn’t slept with that woman (his anger when you’d pushed him on it had finally convinced you that he hadn’t), you still weren’t exactly happy with what he had admitted to doing. It was still cheating in your book.

Could you ever really trust him again?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy fussed over her like a mother hen when she sat down across from him at the table, jumping up and rushing over to the buffet table, picking out a selection of toast, focaccia, butter, jams and Nutella for her along with a couple of mini pain au chocolat croissants. They were her favourites so he felt quite proud of himself as he laid the plate before her like the spoils of war, before making his way to the coffee machine and creating a cappuccino for her.

“Thank you, Billy - you’re spoiling me,” she said with a small grin. “Your every wish is my command, Princess,” he smiled back, hand covering hers and stroking gently. Now she started properly laughing at him, and he huffed, slightly offended. Once she’d calmed down a bit she said, “Honestly Billy, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. All I need from you is complete honesty.” Billy tried to look as convincing as he possibly could, “I will be, sweetheart, I promise.”

She took a sip of her cappuccino, and fixed him with an intense stare. “Bearing that in mind, Billy, just what exactly was going through your mind when you were making out with Madani?”

Billy blew out a big breath; he hadn’t seen that coming. “Well… uhh… nothin’ really. I was just doing somethin’ I had to do, and needed to get it over with as quick as possible.” Another sip of coffee, another intense look from her. “Uh-huh. So you didn’t enjoy it then? Is that what you’re saying?”

Billy suddenly felt like he was back on very thin ice. He could feel himself squirming in his seat, and fought to keep still. Madani was, in all truth, a pretty woman.

Fuck.

What should he say in reply to that?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes were drilling into Billy’s, and he looked about as comfortable as someone who’d just found out he’d got a scorpion down his trousers.

His face flushed pink, so you could guess what that meant. He cleared his throat, and then said in a low voice, “Look, she’s not bad lookin’ so it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could’ve been.”

You smirked, not ready to let him off the hook yet, “So you were attracted to her, then. Not sure I’m happy to hear that, Billy.”

“NO! No, I wasn’t. Well.. like I said, she’s not unattractive but I’m not interested in her.”

You picked up your knife and aggressively sliced right through one of croissants. The look on Billy’s face was priceless. No doubt he’d guessed that the croissant was a surrogate for a certain part of his anatomy.

“Sweetheart, they weren’t long or involved kisses… not real ones, not like between you an’ me,” he said in a worried tone, very unlike his usual assertive manner. “Sweetheart, you’re the one I’m in love with. The only one I want to be with.” He was gazing earnestly at you, hand covering yours.

You cut off another piece of croissant and popped it into your mouth.

Billy would have to work a hell of a lot harder than that today if he was going to get you back, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Once the vaporetto had moored alongside the jetty you walked on board the boat up the ramp in front of Billy, while the disembarking passengers walked down the other side of it as it swayed from side to side, the boat moving in its own wake. The crew member who’d expertly tied up the boat a few moments ago was still calling out “Palanca, Palanca” as you headed through the covered section to the open area right at the back, sitting down on the bench seat in the stern and turning your face up to the sun.

Billy sat next to you, scooting as close to you as he could, suddenly lunging in for a hungry kiss. Two mothers with children in tow emerged through the doors leading from the salon, and you pushed him away while hastily smiling at the newcomers, saying, “Giorno” to them. Both of them smiled at you, returning your greeting, but then their eyes slid over to Billy and you saw both sets widening as they looked him over. You sighed. Having a hot boyfriend sucked sometimes. And Billy was looking particularly hot today in leather jacket, white t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots.

However, you noticed that Billy’s eyes were glued to you, still gazing at you ever since you’d fended him off. You didn’t think he’d even glanced at the other two women.

OK, Russo - one point on the plus side to you, you conceded.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was paying full attention to his girl. He felt slightly triumphant that he’d managed to steal a kiss, and she’d only shoved him away when he’d vaguely heard the salon doors opening behind him.

He was so worried that she still hadn’t made her mind up whether to take him back or not, and he knew that today was his final chance to convince her to do so. Whatever was in his power to do, he’d do, to make that happen. And he wasn’t dumb, that meant not paying any attention whatsoever to any other females in the vicinity. He’d guessed that a couple of women had arrived along with the kids he could hear squealing and laughing just out of his sight line, so he made sure he kept his eyes trained solely on her.

Her lips curved upwards in a small smile as she looked back at him.

Pleased, he thought - ha, think I just scored a point there.

He wondered how many more of those he needed to rack up to finally win his woman back.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

There were no direct vaporetti lines to the Lagoon Islands so you had to firstly go to Fondamente Nove, which was a busy hub for several of the numerous lines. You wanted to visit two of the main islands; Murano - where Venetians had made their famed glass items for centuries - and Burano, an island of fishermen and lacemakers. You were really excited to go there, as the houses were painted in a rainbow of colours. Legend had it that this was so the returning fishermen could spot their own individual houses as they returned home across the lagoon.

You needed to find the ferry stop for Line 12, which luckily Billy spotted just as the two of you were about to walk right past it. There was a vaporetto arriving just as you did and swiping your travel passes, you went aboard and took seats in the salon. This ferry was a slightly different type to the others you’d been on, longer and lower and was soon packed with locals and tourists alike.

It took a little while to arrive at Murano, alighting at the Faro stop. They still produced glassware on Murano but nothing like as much as they had in the past. You and Billy wandered alongside one of the main canals, looking into the windows of all the little glass shops until you came to the entrance of one of the big glass foundries.

They offered tours of the workshop and of course also had a shop, so the two of you paid for the tour and watched in amazement as an old man took a fiery red and yellow blob onto the end of a pole, and blew and turned it until it started to take on the shape of a little vase.

In the store, you browsed along the shelves looking at all the glassware on display, until you suddenly noticed you were alone. Glancing around, you spotted a dark head over in the corner at the cash desk and were heading over there when Billy turned round. His trademark smirk appeared and he hurriedly picked up the little paper carrier bag which was on the counter by its handles and strode towards you.

“See anything you like, sweetheart?”

Smirk getting wider. You eye-rolled and grabbed his arm, noting at the same time that the female sales assistant was still gawping at Billy, even though he now had his back to her. You tugged him towards the door, asking, “What’ve you just bought?” as you went. He shook his head, “Can’t say. It’s a surprise.” You glared at him, “Billy….” but he just kept grinning as you left the store and wouldn’t say anything, even though you nipped at his wrist just below his leather jacket sleeve with your nails.

“Wanna get a coffee?” he suggested, as you resumed your canalside stroll. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, stopping next to the outdoor tables of a small caffé and sitting down, Billy joining you. He slid his hand over yours, “M’glad we’ve got this time together today, sweetheart. Wanna make you understand just how much you mean to me.”

You nodded in acknowledgment before waving at the waiter and ordering two double macchiatos. You carried on, “The main problem I have, Billy, is how I’m ever going to trust you again? You might not think you cheated, but that’s what it is in my book.”

Billy looked over at you, eyes wide, sad …and scared.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had then looked up and thanked the waiter as the coffees were placed in front of you both. He really didn’t know what to say, to be honest. He knew Frank - and no doubt Karen - also thought that it had counted as cheating. But he truly hadn’t. Well…. Cheating Lite, as he’d already designated it in his head. But not proper, down-and-dirty, long-term cheating. It had been a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. He just hadn’t considered the bigger picture. At all. And that had been a big mistake.

He took a sip of his coffee, and cleared his throat before spilling out what had just gone through his head. “Y’know I’m not exactly an expert at relationships, angel. In fact, I’m sure you’ll agree I’m totally shit at them. I need you to keep me on the straight and narrow. Tell me how things need to be. Please don’t give up on us, don’t leave me… please.” Billy was completely and utterly pouring out his heart to her, and he prayed she could see that.

His girl looked at him, some anger and hurt still in her eyes but she managed a shaky breath and looked down into the depths of her coffee cup for a few moments.

Billy held his breath.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes met his again, “But how am I going to trust you again, Billy, tell me that? Every time you say you’re working late, how d’you expect me not to think you’re meeting up with her or someone else?”

Now it was Billy’s turn to look down. The silence stretched out to a few minutes, and you did nothing to break it. Eventually he looked up at you again, “M’tryin’ to think of how I can prove to you that I’ll never, ever, do something like that again - whether it’s work-related or not.”

He reached across and slid his long fingers between yours, holding onto your hand so tightly it felt like he’d never let go.

“Firstly, I give you my word as an ex-Marine that I won’t ever pull a stunt like this again. Secondly, I’ll be the most attentive boyfriend you’ve ever had. In and out of the sack.” You tried to hide a smile, but you knew he’d seen it. “Thirdly, I’ll put a tracker on my phone, and I’ll hack you into my messagin’ and email apps so you’ll have absolute access to my location and comms.” He was smirking back at you by now, he felt this was going pretty well.

“But you’ve got access to burner phones, Billy.”

His smile dimmed, while his brain scrambled to come up with a solution to this inconvenient fact. You saw his eyes light up and the smirk returned, “Easy. I’ll put Frank in sole charge of issuing them and I’ll tell him not to give me any unless it’s absolutely necessary for an op.”

“Could just buy them in Walmart’s,” you dropped into the slight pause after he’d finished speaking. His face fell again, and now you burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, Billy - I get the message. I see that you’re doing your best to be honest and transparent. There’s no need for you to put all that tracking and hacking in place.”

Billy beamed at you.

“I’ll just get Micro to track your ass.”

His mouth dropped open as you spoke.

“And monitor all your calls and texts.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Woah! thought Billy, didn’t think she’d be getting King Nerd involved. That was probably Karen’s idea. Gee, thanks Karen. But he would agree, what else could he do? And he’d offered to track himself, so it didn’t really matter in any case, did it?

“Uhhh…” he stuttered, “….uhh yeah, whatever you like, sweetheart.”

She smiled over at him, a genuine smile. “It’s OK, Billy. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She side-eyed him, “Unless you give me good cause. Like… coming home stinking of another woman’s perfume ever again.”

His hand went over his heart, and he put on his best puppydog eyes. “Angel, I swear on my life - never. Never. Ever. Again.”

She nodded. “Okay, Billy, I’ll take that as you being on oath now, just like when you joined the Marines.” His eyes widened and he nodded fast. “Yeah. I am. I’m on oath.”

He watched as she drained the very last few drops of her coffee. “Okay, Russo! Let’s go,” she said standing up and picking up her bag.

“Yes, ma’am!” He jumped up and saluted, taking his place at her side as they retraced their steps to the Faro stop and their next vaporetto.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d hopped onto the next Line 12 ferry which arrived, and recommenced your onwards journey to Burano. Sitting inside the salon again, the loud chatter around you from the mostly local passengers almost drowned out any conversation you and Billy tried to have. He finally leaned right up against you, snaking his arm round your waist, his lips against your ear.

“Got you a little somethin’, sweetheart.” He handed you the gift bag.

Opening it, you saw a mass of tissue paper inside the bag and took it out. “Careful!” he warned, so you slowly opened up the paper and saw a delicate rose pink heart trinket box sitting at its centre. You lifted its little lid up and then replaced it, delighted with it. Smiling at Billy, you said, “I love it!” into his ear and kissed his cheek. His lips returned to your ear, “See? You have my heart.”

Now you rolled your eyes heavenwards, “I’d stop there if I were you, Russo. Cheesy really doesn’t suit you!” He burst out laughing. “Hey! Give a guy a break. He’s over here layin’ his heart and soul right out in front of you.”

You leant in and kissed him on the lips, before pulling back and saying, “And don’t read too much into that!” But Billy was already grinning happily back at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was happy. His steps were light as he walked beside her from the vaporetto stop along a small street, lined with stalls and shops selling souvenirs and lacework, which eventually led to a square.

She loved the trinket box! he thought, very pleased with himself. The minute he’d seen it he knew that she would, and had decided to buy it on the spot. While he didn’t want her to think he was trying to buy her back, he’d just wanted to make some gesture to show her that he treasured her, the same way she’d treasure the little things she put in it.

He blurted all of this out to her as they strolled along. She stopped walking and looked at him, amazed, “Billy Russo! I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He felt shy suddenly, and he could feel his face heating up. What was happening to him? Is this what love did to you? He didn’t hate it. “It’s how I feel,” he mumbled, looking away from her. He felt her hand on his cheek, “Well, keep that up and maybe, just maybe…”

She turned and started walking again, and Billy hurried to catch up with her. I won’t push it, he thought, I’ll just leave it be while I’m on a winning streak.

There was another street leading off the square which was full of trattorias and caffés, and they chose one of the restaurants to sit outside, the tables rapidly filling as more people from the vaporetto stop arrived.

She’s definitely looking at me more kindly, he thought. Things might just be okay after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a delicious lunch of pasta and several glasses of wine, you and Billy started exploring the little canals and streets with their cute colourful houses. They looked so bright and beautiful in the sunlight, and you imagined the fishermen back in the day sailing home and being able to see their own little house from afar.

You reached the waterside, beside a quiet little square with houses all around it and some grass in the middle, clothes on washing lines strung across it, blowing in the breeze. There was no-one else around and suddenly you found yourself pressed up against the wall of one of the houses, Billy’s long fingers on the nape of your neck, his hand on your waist. His dark chocolate eyes were gazing into yours, a soft look in them. But you could also feel something a lot harder pressing into your hip, and you saw desire spark in his eyes.

His mouth was on yours and he kissed you, the sudden passion of which took you by surprise. He pulled back, his forehead touching yours. “I’ve missed your touch so much,” he whispered, “…every minute of every day since you.. since you left me.” You laid your hand on his chest, “I missed you too, Billy - even if I did hate you at the time.” He chuckled, “Do you still hate me?” You looked into those beautiful eyes, “No, I guess I don’t. Although you’re still walking a line, Billy.”

He nodded, “I know. I do know. But promise me you’ll give me another chance?” You smiled at him, pushing yourself away from the wall and him, “Let’s see, shall we?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy tapped on her hotel room door, and gave her a devilish grin as she opened it. He’d made sure to wear a white tank and a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. He knew she liked him in those.

She was already in her sleepwear - an oversized Anvil T which she’d stolen from him ages ago - and leant against her door, looking back at him, amused. “Why Billy, whatever brings you here?”

He just kept grinning at her and also leant against her doorframe. As if she didn’t know, he thought. She’d had to spend the entire journey back from Burano fending off his hands and mouth.

“Just checkin’ you’re OK, sweetheart. See if there’s anything you need.”

She laughed. “And what could I possibly need, Billy?”

He angled his body so that she couldn’t fail to get a great view of his toned torso and more importantly, the very obvious outline of his erection showing in his joggers. If there was one thing Billy had complete confidence in, it was the effect his body had on women.

“I can think of one or two things, sweetheart.”

He was ecstatic when her hand reached out and grabbed him round the back of his neck, pulling him into her room. “Uhuh… maybe you should show me what those are.”

Billy’s grin got twice as wide.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You gave a huge sigh as Billy pushed inside you, hearing an answering one from him and you ran your hands up into his lush hair. You couldn’t deny it, you had missed him. And his enthusiastic lovemaking.

However you were a little taken aback when he began moving slowly and sensually on you, instead of his usual frenetic pace. He was stroking your hair, placing little kisses all over your face and neck, running his hands over your body, whispering “I love you, love you so much” between his languid thrusts. He slid a hand down and massaged your clit, so well that you climaxed within a few short moments. Not long afterwards, you heard him gasp and he released into you, with a long groan.

The two of you lay in silence, side by side but still entwined. Then Billy leant across and kissed you, softly, slowly, with passion. “I can’t be without you, angel.” The puppydog eyes were out in force again as he gazed at you, “Please. Gimme another chance. I’ll be a better boyfriend, a million times better.”

You continued to look back at him, then gave a quick nod, “Okay. Yes, okay Billy. But one… just one transgression…” His hands went up in supplication, “Understood! Not one transgression will be made.”

“And you make sure to tell that thirsty bitch back in New York that her little dates with you won’t be happening anymore.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Already done.”

He saw her eyebrows rise.

Oh. Oh, she thinks that means I’ve been in touch with her.

“No, sweetheart…. Frankie took care of that for me while I’ve been away.”

She smirked, “Pleased to hear it.”

Billy let out a sigh of relief, he was going to have to be so careful over the next few months. He’d only just got her back! He couldn’t let a stupid, chance remark or two ruin it. He ran his hand over her hair again. “I’m so happy, y’know? M’never going to take you for granted again.” He saw her smile widen in the darkness of the room.

“But, sweetheart, you gotta promise me something too.” She looked at him, puzzled, amused, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. No more runnin’ out on me and flyin’ halfway round the world.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3 @theshadowkingsqueen @bat-luna-cat @carlywhomever

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic

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calumrose · 3 years

Text

There’s No Place Like Home || C.H

A//N: Let’s just say I’ve not been doing so good since Calum posted that tiktok two days ago... And this is what became of that <3 Also, this might just be the smallest thing I’ve ever written so it’s feels very unfinished to me although it is actually done. Anyway, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 1.8k

The morning sun was low as Calum ventured outside, the neck of his guitar securely in his grasp as he took a steady step down onto the smooth stone path which surrounded his home. The golden glow cascaded across the garden around him, shadows being painted across his surroundings as they danced in the gentle morning breeze. The sun provided a welcomed warmth to his back as he edged towards the small decking area where he usually kept his gym equipment for workouts.

He held a mug in his hand as he sat himself down, palm curled around the pale ceramic as he lifted it to his lips to take a tentative sip of the bitter brew. His tongue touched his lip as the scalding liquid stung his sensitive skin, leaving a fresh pinch-like feeling behind as he lowered the mug from his face and placed it down next to him. He swallowed his mouthful of the warm coffee, his taste buds bouncing in delight at the shot of caffeine that was entering his system. Coffee was the only way to start his day according to Calum.

Or so that’s how it used to be.

Looking over to his left, his chin tilting just barely so he could catch a glimpse, his eyes fell to the soft shadows which lay beyond the thin curtains that hung behind the open door that led out into the garden. Small glimpses of you being captured as the soft morning breeze blew, causing the curtains to split and small snapshots of the sight he loved become clear to his eyes.

A smile graced his face as he made out the soft shapes as they moved behind the curtain, the golden light shining against them only to bring out the darkened contrast of the shadow of the body which stood not too far behind it. Every movement was graceful through the curtain, the smooth lines of your body as it moved came across like that of a dance, the gentle lifting of your arm looking like a delicate petal of a rose that flew in the soft breeze.

His eyes were mesmerised as they set on your silhouette through the net curtains, his smile never fading as he watched the gentle movement of your legs as you swayed in place. He knew you weren’t alone, the faded sight of your craned neck looking downwards as your own eyes settled upon the small body that lay peacefully in your arms. He wondered how long she would continue to sleep for, her small body being removed from her crib in the early hours when you both arose from your slumber upon the sound of her soft cries. It wasn’t long before she drifted back to sleep to the gentle sound of your heartbeat as you prepared some morning coffee for yourself and Calum.

Setting the guitar on his lap, the curve of the wood bending so it rested comfortably on his thigh, Calum’s thumb slowly began to brush against the delicate strings. He allowed for his fingers to be placed along the neck of the guitar, knuckles bending as the pads of his fingertips pressed against the strings as he played the familiar chords he had known since he was young.

A familiar acoustic melody filled the peaceful morning, the plants which littered the dirt along the fence gently blowing in the soft breeze. It was a sound that reminded him of the journey that had led him to where he found himself, what twists and turns he had taken throughout his life that had led him to find himself living a life that he could only have dreamed of living.

The soft words fell from his lips as he continued to play, the familiar lyrics lacing together as they left his tongue in a soft voice as he looked out into the golden rays of the sun as they danced and painted the garden in a beautiful light. The garden had always been a little getaway for the two of you, finding yourselves laying out there as the sun would set at dusk, eyes cast upwards to the sky as you’d watch the shades of orange and red brush across the wide-open canvas. You hoped that one day you’d be able to show your daughter the wonders of the world, to be able to bring her out and sit with her to watch as the sky changed colour, pointing up to the descending sun and waving it a warm goodbye before welcoming the blue moon in its place.

Lyrics slowly turned into mumbles, a soft hum sounding from within his throat as he gently bobbed his head to the rhythm he was creating with his hands. His eyes closed momentarily as he lost himself in the song, his lips curling as memories danced across his mind. Memories of days on the road, memories of late nights spent tucked away in small bunks, and memories of sweet kisses before running off onto stage to the sound of fans calling their name. The song held a lot of memories, most of them happy, some not so, but all of them important, nonetheless. They held memories of days spent with his brothers, days spent with his family, of days spent with you. Those were days he never wanted to forget.

Opening his eyes, Calum looked back towards the open door, the thin curtain having been pulled open so the sunlight could break through the open frame. He could see into the house from where he sat, the strip of sunlight stretching across the wooden floor as far as he could see inside. You were still in his eyeline, your body still gently swaying with every small step you took as you walked around the room. He noticed how your eyes were still settled upon the small body in your arms, your lips curled upwards as they moved and silent words were spoken into the air. He wondered what you were saying, what words you were speaking to the sweet girl who slept against your chest. He wondered if he would ever know the conversation that you shared with her, if he would ever gain knowledge into the private whispers and small giggles that escaped in the moments you stole with her in the times when Calum wasn’t around.

He watched with warm, kind eyes as one of your hands brushed her supple cheek, a finger curling at the second knuckle as you allowed for your skin to brush against hers. The blanket she was wrapped him hung from your arms, soft corners hanging in the air and brushing against your legs with every step that you took. He smiled at how the sleeves of the — his — sweatshirt you wore were slightly bunched up at your wrists, the fabric almost ballooning around your arm due to the size. He took in the tired lines that had pressed into your face, ones that he was sure matched his own, but they were marks that you each came to wear with pride. They were marks of parenthood.

His smile grew once more as he watched you turn, your body moving towards the open door, your feet coming to a gentle halt just before the doorway. You kept her shielded from the crisp morning air, your sweatshirt-clad arms tucked around her as the oversized fabric acted as a warm wall to protect her from a threatening chill. He could just make out the details of her as you came to the door, his eyes finding the delicate features of her face and feeling how his heart leaped at the sight. She was so precious to see, her eyes closed, and little hands clenched into small fists as they gripped onto the fabric of the sweatshirt that adorned your body.

“I like the summer rain, I like the sounds you make,” Calum’s voice gently carried out into the morning air as he sang the chorus for a final time, eyes remaining set on the sight of his sleeping daughter as he sang, “We put the world away, we get so disconnected.”

Slowly raising his gaze, his eyes came to meet yours. The sight of your smile made his heart feel like it could burst, the slight push up of your cheeks as your eyes were soft as they connected with his. He felt his heart flutter as he continued to sing, fingers strumming the melody of a song he knew you loved to hear, even after all the years. He watched as your body swayed still, your movements in time with the soft strumming on his fingers against the delicate strings of the guitar in his lap.

Eyes never tearing from yours, Calum watched as your lips moved along with the words which he continued to sing, the lyrics being lost in the springtime air as they fell from your lips in a peaceful breath with no volume unlike him. You both kept smiling as Calum reached the end of the song, fingers plucking the melodic chords with ease as he played the final few notes and allowed for his hands to fall against the strings with a final strum.

“I could get used to the sound of you playing in the morning again,” You let out a blissful sigh as you looked out at him. “I’ve missed it, and I think someone else has to.”

Calum chuckled as he stood to his feet, one hand grasping the neck of his guitar, while the other took a hold of the half-empty mug that he had placed on the floor earlier. Bare feet padding against the ground as he made his way back over to where you stood, one foot becoming perched on the step as he came to stand in front of you.

The golden sunlight bounced off him, the warm glow shining against his skin as he stood in the open air. He was a beautiful sight to see, a sight that made your heart sing almost as beautifully as he had done seconds before.

“I guess you could say I was inspired this morning, being in my favourite place with my favourite people,” He let out a soft laugh, his smile wide as he gazed down at you. You joined his eyes as they drifted further down, both sets of eyes falling to the sight of her as she continued to sleep soundly in your arms. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here.”

There was nothing like being at home, wrapped up in the home comforts that Calum had come to love. His home was his safe space, a place where he could be himself, a place to unwind after a long day, a place where he could find the happiness and beauty in the life that he had claimed for himself. It was a place unlike any other.

It was a place where he had those who mattered most. It was a place where he had everything he could ever want or need.

There was no place like home.

---

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heavenlyhaechan · 3 years

Text

A Thin Line (Between Love and Hate)

Pairing: Sunwoo x Gn!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers au, high school au, fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood (nosebleed), kissing, childish behavior, cliche after cliche after cliche af-

Note: Happy birthday Sunwoo, I think we all know that I love you the most. I wrote this quite a while ago, so if it doesn’t match my current writing style, that’s why.

The shrill sound of the school bell pierced your ears, and you watched as students began to move up and down the stairs around you like you were a stone in a rushing river. Five minutes until class started, and none of the underclassmen wanted to be late. You stood up, bidding your friends farewell as you did so. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you started up the stairs towards your first class.

As you walked into your chemistry classroom, you heard your teacher reminding you of today’s quiz in a monotone voice. You nodded absentmindedly in his direction, more concerned with the person currently sitting in your seat. He sat with his back to you, bent over laughing at something his friend had said from the back of the room.

Your friends looked up at you as you reached your table, their eyes full of apprehension. Dropping your stuff to the ground, you cuffed the intruder on the back of his head, prompting him to look back at you, startled.

“This is my seat,” you said, although you knew he didn’t need the reminder.

“Is it?” Sunwoo recovered quickly, his eyes steely. You had seen people tremble under that gaze, but you knew him better than that. You hadn’t spent a lifetime knowing him just to get scared off by one look.

“Yes. Now move.”

“Somebody’s cranky this morning,” he sneered.

“Somebody needs to shut up,” you snapped back. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Mm,” he made a sound of agreement as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head lazily. “See you later,” he said as he walked past you to the door, his shoulder bumping yours violently enough that you knew it hadn’t been an accident.

“I hope not,” you said to his back as you sat down, but he ignored you.

You were surprised. Usually, Sunwoo just had to have the last word, no matter what lengths he had to go to get it. You shrugged it off, making up an excuse for his behavior in your head as you turned to greet your friends and prepare for the quiz.

—

You strolled along the running track on your way to the bus stop, taking your time as you were well aware that the bus wasn’t coming for at least another five minutes. Your headphones successfully drowned out the sounds of the world around you, including the soccer practice happening to your left. In fact, they were so successful that you didn’t hear the shouts of warning until it was too late. By the time you saw the soccer ball hurtling directly towards your face all you could do was close your eyes. The next thing you knew, your face was stinging, and your nose felt like it was on fire.

A familiar face came running towards you, followed by most of your school’s soccer team. “Are you okay?” Sunwoo called out as he reached you, his voice much too loud for your liking.

“I’m fine,” you answered as a crowd of sweaty teenage boys surrounded you like you were Cristiano Ronaldo.

“You’re bleeding.”

You reached up to touch your nose, and soon felt a warm trickle of blood that confirmed his words.

“Shit,” you muttered, bending forward to hold your nose.

“Give them some room boys!” you heard someone shout, and the crowd began to thin, leaving only you, Sunwoo, and the soccer coach standing on the track.

“Take them to the nurse Kim,” the coach said gruffly, gesturing towards the school building. “And be quick about it.”

“Yes sir,” Sunwoo nodded once before grabbing your free arm and towing you forward. You followed him, too focused on keeping any blood from getting on your clothes to pay attention to where you were going.

“Do you think it’s broken?” he asked as he looked at you, his hatred of blood making him cringe.

“I don’t know.”

“You should have been paying attention,” he griped as he led you down the hallway.

“Do I have you to blame for this?” you deflected expertly.

“No, you have yourself to blame for not paying attention.”

He seemed to be growing more agitated by the second. Luckily for you, agitating Sunwoo was your specialty.

“You know if it is broken, I could probably sue you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?”

The two of you came to a stop outside of the nurse’s office, staring each other down. Finally, Sunwoo rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.

“I’m not arguing with an invalid,” he said as he held the door open for you.

“And people say chivalry is dead,” you said dryly as you made your way inside the room, Sunwoo close behind you. Before he could respond you had been swept up by the nurse, leaving him to wait on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs lined up against the wall.

Ten minutes later, you watched as the nurse called your parents to pick you up, even after you had insisted that you were fine to take the bus. Since you’d arrived Sunwoo had stood up and begun to pace back and forth over the old worn carpet. You made your way over to him, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. He turned to face you as you reached him, one of his hands reaching up to fix his hair.

He had pulled a mask up over his nose at some point, and his curls fell over his eyebrows so that the only thing you could see was his eyes. They looked at you, sparkling like there was a whole galaxy trapped inside of them. Your rational mind knew that it was only the fluorescent light’s reflection, but a part of you was sure that you could find the secrets of the universe in those eyes if only you looked long enough.

The sound of your name drew you from your trance and you started, blinking rapidly. Shit. What were you thinking? This was Kim Sunwoo you were looking at. The same boy who had spent a lifetime tormenting you, and you, him.

“Sorry,” you said as you scrambled to find an excuse for your zoning out. “Maybe I have a concussion,” you resolved, cringing internally as you said it. Sunwoo’s eyebrows twitched, and a look of concern flashed across his face just long enough for you to catch it.

“I doubt it; I hit you in the face, not the head. And even if you do, it’s probably not very bad.”

“I hope it is bad, that way I can blame you for it,” you retorted.

He scoffed, and you watched as his eyes hardened, returning to the usual cold glare that he reserved especially for you. “Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to leave the nurse’s office.

You cursed at yourself as you watched the door close behind him. This was the first time in years that the two of you had managed to have a civil conversation, maybe even a friendly one, and you had ruined it. You hadn’t even thought about it, the words had just spilled out of you. The saying “old habits die hard” was proving to be true.

But then you remembered a more pressing problem: his eyes.

—

That night, your thoughts stole any chance you had of sleeping. While this was not an uncommon occurrence, tonight it felt different. No matter where your mind took you, it always ended up at Sunwoo.

One train of thought went camping, your cousins, soccer, Sunwoo. Another went from the outfit you were going to wear tomorrow, to the quiz you’d had in chemistry today, to Sunwoo. For what felt like hours your thoughts followed this pattern, until finally, you fell into a restless sleep, dreams full of the same boy who had been haunting your thoughts since that afternoon and throughout your whole life.

—

“What’s on your mind?” your mom asked on your way to school the next morning. She had insisted that you wouldn’t take the bus that day, even though the nurse had deemed you uninjured.

“Why?” you questioned.

“You just seem kind of out of it.”

“I guess I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Why not?”

You were tempted to blame it on yesterday’s accident, but you knew that this would just make her worry more, which wouldn’t be beneficial to either of you. You speculated some other excuses for a few seconds, before deciding on the truth.

“You remember Kim Sunwoo right?”

“How could I forget,” she responded wryly. You laughed a little as contemplated what exactly you wanted to say.

“I always thought you had a crush on him you know,” she said, interrupting your thoughts. You stared at her incredulously. Now it was her turn to laugh.

“You used to come home from school when you were younger and talk about nothing else but him,” she explained.

“Yeah, cause he was, and is, so annoying,” you said defensively.

“Sure,” she conceded. “But I also think that you’ve chosen to blow up all of his more annoying traits in favor of ignoring his more admirable ones.”

—

Your mom’s words played on repeat in your mind all day long, like the lyrics of a song that had gotten stuck in your head. As you made your way through your day, you tried your best to forget that anything had happened and just go back to the way things had been before yesterday afternoon. This method proved unsuccessful, however.

By the time the school’s bell rang to signal the end of the day, you were really, truly fed up with just the thought of Sunwoo. What right did he have to inhabit your thoughts like this? You had more important things to focus on, things that actually mattered, like your history final, or deciding what you were going to buy your friend for their birthday.

You slammed your locker shut as you rode this new wave of anger, only to see the boy you had just been cursing out in your mind walking towards you. Unfortunately, he had already seen you, and you watched as he detached himself from his group of friends and made his way in your direction.

“What do you want?” you snarled as he reached you, turning for the stairs before he had a chance to respond.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, more tentatively than you had ever heard him be.

“Why do you care?”

“Oh c'mon, I’m not a complete monster, and it was my fault.”

“So you admit it,” you turned to face him. He had followed you up the stairs, and now you looked down at him with a fierce look in your eyes.

“Admit what? That I’m a monster, or that it was my fault?”

“Both.”

He sighed resignedly, walking up the stairs until you were face to face. “Yes, I admit it. But if we’re being honest, you’re not the nicest either.”

“Well, you-” you stopped. He was right, wasn’t he? He may have been the one to start this stupid struggle, but nowadays you tended to provoke him more than he did you. And besides, you had been six years old when all of this had started. Were you really holding a grudge against Sunwoo’s six-year-old self?

“Okay, yeah. I’ve been pretty horrible to you too, but well, you started it!”

He laughed, his eyes scrunching up and his lips parting to reveal that crooked tooth that you had always despised. But maybe you had mistaken love for hate.

“Why did you, you know, start it,” you asked quietly, so quietly that for a moment you weren’t sure he’d heard you. But then his smile disappeared, and you realized that you kind of missed it.

“I guess I didn’t know how else to…” he trailed off, his eyes roaming the stairway as if the answer to your question lay there.

“Didn’t know how else to what?”

“How else to…uh, show you…that…I liked you.”

He blurted out the last three words like they were forbidden. They hung in the air like smoke, slipping into your lungs and making breathing difficult.

“Since when do you like me?” you croaked out.

“Since forever.”

“Really?” you laughed a little as you said it, your mind reeling.

“Well, since first grade at least.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I, um,” he paused, his eyes avoiding yours.

“What,” you said. It was a statement, not a question, but it still prompted him to continue.

“I was scared, I guess,” he finished, his eyes full to the brim with vulnerability. It poured from him, in the way his breathing had quickened, and the way his fingers played with his hoodie strings erratically. This was a new color on him, one you never thought you’d have the opportunity to see.

“Of what?” you queried, intrigued by this, what was it, nervousness? It was so foreign on him that you had trouble putting a finger on it.

“That you’d laugh at me mostly,” he coughed in embarrassment.

“I probably would have.”

He opened his mouth to snap at you, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He stared down at your fingers like they were alien, continuing to look at them dazedly even as you spoke. “But I’m not now, so,” you gestured for him to continue.

“I always thought that hating me was close enough to liking me,” he started again. “So I’d, you know, metaphorically pull your braids or whatever. I thought that at least that way you’d pay attention to me.” You could feel the phantom pain as he said it, the weight heavy on your scalp. “And then it became so natural that I didn’t know how to make it right, to apologize.”

“So basically, you’re a horrible flirt.”

He let another laugh escape him, pushing your shoulder a little as he finally met your eyes. “Like you’re any better.”

“I’m a lot better than you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

You stared each other down the same way you had your entire lives, but this time you realized how ridiculous all of this really was. Hating each other, not because you didn't like one another, but because you both thought the feeling was mutual. And yet here you were. The line between love and hate is very thin, after all.

Before you could think any further, you did the simplest and most terrifying thing you could imagine. You leaned forward and kissed him. It was rushed and a little messy, with teeth banging and noses bumping, but it fit Sunwoo perfectly.

When you pulled away, the first thing you noticed was how red his ears were. You giggled at the sight, prompting him to look at you questioningly. You reached out to touch them, causing the blush to spread down to his cheeks as well. He looked down abashedly, but you assured him that it was cute.

“Embarrassing you mean,” he mumbled.

“That too,” you laughed again.

He sobered, staring at you with the same look that used to infuriate you to no end. But now, instead of seeing only the stone-cold glare he used to intimidate those around him, you also saw the blush that lingered on his cheeks and the stars in his eyes. Now you could see the potential smile in the curve of his cheeks and the potential pout his lips were waiting to produce.

“Cute,” you murmured again, and his lips twitched exasperatedly.

“Whatever.”

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