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ddaengtae · 4 years

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see you around || jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college, strangers (idiots) to lovers, fitness instructor! jungkook, fluff, smut

word count: 13.9k

summary: you know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar and obsess over with your friends, but know there’s about a one percent chance they’ll ever talk to you or even know who you are? that’s precisely what jeon jungkook was to you; a piece of delicious eye candy that you could daydream about all you wanted, but had to accept that it was too unrealistic to ever happen. or so you thought. after an embarrassing accident at the gym that makes your worlds collide, maybe you had been wrong about your chances all along.

a/n: when i came up with this idea in my head, i guessed it would be around 5k words. guess my hands slipped. this is only my second bts fic, but after getting good feedback for my first one, i decided to give it another try and this is what happened. i tried to edit closely, but there may be a few types so i’m sorry! thanks for reading & pls lmk what you think. :)

Another week, another million reasons to be stressed. It really seemed like that was the never-ending pattern of the college lifestyle. The weekend was never long enough to truly allow yourself to unwind. Sure, those two days were great, but how was two days enough to destress from the agony of multiple all-nighters to keep up with the shitload of work that all of your professors always deemed it acceptable to assign? There was no way for you to prove it, but you believed in a conspiracy theory that all of the professors would meet up at the beginning of each semester and choose to make all of their huge assignments due on the same days just to fuck all of their students over. There could be no other explanation for the hell that was midterms season.

While during your first two years of college you would barely be hanging on by a thread during the busiest weeks of the semester, you were now a junior and had at last adopted a regime that helped you burn off some steam when the tension became all too much. Somewhere along the way, you started to realize that inhaling mozzarella sticks and Red Bull at two in the morning the night before an exam did very little to make you feel better and that it would probably be a better idea to take up a healthy lifestyle and better time management skills sooner rather than later. In the process of getting your life together, one Tuesday evening in the spring of your sophomore year, one of your roommates had convinced you to accompany her to a group fitness class at the gym on campus. To your surprise, you fell in love with it and the feeling of adrenaline and accomplishment that came along with making it through the hour. From that day on, you vowed to yourself to make it to the gym most days of the week.

There was something about group fitness classes that made you feel much more comfortable than going to the gym and working out on your own. Perhaps most glaringly, the classes were dominated with like-minded girls who just wanted some peace of mind for an hour. Most of the instructors were girls too, except for a few guys who seemed to understand why a lot of women chose to avoid the rest of the gym. It was quite unsettling to work out by yourself on the main floor and be surrounded by conceited guys who always seemed to either be undressing you with their eyes or judging you because, god forbid, you couldn’t squat three-hundred pounds like they could. The whole place just always reeked of toxic masculinity, or so that was what you had thought until you found out about the group fitness classes that the facility also held. They seemed to be a sort of heavenly escape from the rest of the place that resembled a fraternity initiation ceremony.

That was precisely where you found yourself this Monday evening. In dire need of a break from studying, you found yourself sitting on the floor of the group classroom surrounded by your equipment and waiting for your favorite instructor to arrive. The concept of a high-intensity circuit training class had initially terrified you when you first decided to try it out last semester, but it had quickly become your favorite class and one that you attended every week without fail. It was incredibly satisfying to track your progress and watch your body evolve as you adapted to be able to lift heavier weights and make it through the cardio outbreaks without feeling like you were going to drop dead every second.

Taking a long sip of your water, your eyes remained down on your phone as you heard the door of the room open and close again. As it was still ten minutes before class, you didn’t think much of it and assumed it was probably just more people piling into the room and rushing to get their equipment ready.

“Uh, hi guys! The usual instructor for the class is unfortunately sick so I’m filling in for her tonight,” an unfamiliar-- but yet also eerily recognizable-- male voice echoed through the room. “I was just recently certified so this is actually the first class I’ll be teaching here. I promise I’ll try to live up to her hype.” The unknown source let out an awkward laugh, which was met with relative silence from the rest of the room.

The moment your eyes moved up to fall upon the new instructor, your breath hitched in your throat, causing the water you had been attempting to drink to flow down the wrong pipe. This wasn’t just any unmemorable college boy filling in to instruct the class. There at the front of the room stood none other than Jeon Jungkook. The breathtaking Jeon Jungkook was going to be leading the class and you were supposed to be able perform-- let alone breathe-- properly? Oh no.

You and Jungkook were not friends by any means. Hell, it was highly likely that the boy didn’t even know who you were. You know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar, yet know there’s about a one percent chance that they will ever know who you are or ever speak to you? The ones you tell all of your friends about and you go out of your way to use your FBI-level stalking skills to find their social media in hopes of finding out more about them so you can daydream about your nonexistent, fantasy future together? The ones you’re always hoping you’ll cross paths with while walking to class because even a glance of them will make your day a little more exciting and give you something to talk about with your friends? That was what Jungkook was to you.

Jungkook had become known as ‘hot coffee shop boy’ amongst your friend group after you had noticed him studying in the same coffee shop as you one day in the fall of your sophomore year. As you always chose to study at the least favorite and therefore least populated coffee shop on campus, it was shocking the first time someone as beautiful as Jungkook sat down at one of the tables across from yours and settled in to do his homework as well. His presence offered you a paradox; while seeing him looking like a model wearing his oversized clothes and sighing at his laptop screen was certainly a distraction at times, it also served as a form of motivation to force you to focus because you didn’t want him thinking you were slacking off. He seemed to enjoy the quiet ambience of the specific shop because after that first day, he began to frequent it almost as often as you, always sitting at the same table by the third window. On some occasions, one of his friends who always seemed to be changing hair colors would accompany him. After some research completed by your enamored friend Jennie who sometimes accompanied you, she discovered his name was Park Jimin. He quickly became known as ‘iced chai’ after that seemed to be his regular coffee order.

It was an exciting day amongst your friends on the first day of classes in the spring of your sophomore year when Jungkook happened to enroll in the same Earth Science lecture as you to satisfy the science gen-ed requirement at your university. Rocks and rivers weren’t exactly interesting, but the back of Jungkook’s head from the row in front of you certainly was. The group chat really blew up the day he spun around in his chair and asked you if he could borrow a pen. They were right that it would’ve been easier for him to just ask one of the people next to him, but you were smart enough to not think into it too much. Maybe you just seemed like the type of person to carry around an abundance of stationery materials (you weren’t, and you ended up not taking any notes that day after giving him the only pen you had).

So here you were, practically choking on your water as Jungkook started to set up his own equipment at the front of the room. How dare he invade your safe space? You suddenly felt as if you barely remembered how to do a jumping jack, let alone have the facilities to pick up a weight.

After organizing his weights at the front of the room, Jungkook’s eyes began to scan the participants in the room, likely counting how many people had shown up. The moment his eyes met yours, your whole body froze in place. Oddly enough, his seemed to do the same. His doe eyes became wide and his mouth fell into an ‘o’ as he looked at you for a few seconds too long, and you swore there was an expression of recognition on his face. Before you could convince yourself that anything of the sort had truly happened, Jungkook was blinking rapidly and shaking his head at himself before his eyes darted away to scan and count the rest of the room.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to get started in a minute here,” Jungkook announced a minute later, looking down at his phone as he connected his music and began blasting it through the speakers. “Just remember to follow my lead and please don’t hesitate to wave me over if you have any questions or are struggling with form. I’ll try to keep an eye on all of you and come over to help you out anyway.” His eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he offered the class a big bunny smile. Oh god, you were going to pass out. “We’re going to be starting with a pretty intense cardio circuit here to bring those heart rates right up and set the tone for the rest of class.” Great. Your heart rate was already accelerating through the roof just at the sight of him. “Try to keep up, but if you need to grab some water or take a break at any point, please don’t hesitate to do so. We’re going to get started in 3… 2… 1… Go!”

To your surprise, you were able to make it through the first couple of circuits without too much trouble. You made it your mission to zone in on each of the exercises you were doing, and that every time you were forced to face forward you would fixate your gaze on the back of the girl in front of you. It was shockingly easy to forget about the beautiful man in front of the room while you were gasping for breath after numerous rounds of burpees and mountain climbers. The goal was to look calm and fit without calling attention to yourself. Outside of your heavy breathing that was likely being drowned out by Jungkook’s loud music, you could say you were succeeding.

About twenty minutes into the class, Jungkook signaled a transition into an upper body circuit. While you were delighted to get a break from cardio and to allow your heart rate to calm down for a bit, following the exercises now required you to face forward and watch for his cues. This would be fine as long as you didn’t focus on his gorgeous face that was currently glistening with sweat in the most pleasing way possible, right?

“Alright, we’re going to start off here with some overhead shoulder presses for the first minute. I’d recommend something on the lighter side, but make sure you’re challenging yourself.” With a slight nod of his head, Jungkook picked up his own weights and counted down the class to begin the first exercise of the circuit.

Shoulder presses weren’t bad. You could do this. Inhaling a deep breath, you made an attempt to wipe your sweaty palms off on your leggings before picking up your dumbbells and getting in position to begin your shoulder presses. After the first few reps, you quickly fell into a rhythm that was both comfortable yet challenging, feeling that delicious burn in your shoulder muscles. At the halfway mark through the minute, your eyes had remained glued to the same girl in front of you. You finally felt a sense of peace. One look at Jungkook couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong.

Against your better judgement, you decided to shift your eyes to the front of the room and take a good luck at a combination of both Jungkook’s back and the reflection of the front of his body through the mirror before him.

The string of events that occurred immediately after that moment was a blur. As Jungkook pressed his set of dumbbells above his head, his baggy shirt slid up his body, exposing his sweaty, toned abs that looked as though they were sculpted by the gods themselves. What was likely an audible gasp escaped from your lips as your eyes remained frozen on the sight in front of you. It was unclear if it was your mesmerized state, your sweaty hands, or a combination of both, but seconds later, the dumbbell in your right hand slipped out of your grasp and quickly went crashing downward.

“Oh my... Fuck!”

There was a moment of dissociation before you realized that the loud cry had, in fact, come out of your mouth, and that the dumbbell that had glided out of your hand had, in fact, come crashing down onto the big toe of your right foot. Your head was spinning as you began to process the throbbing feeling radiating throughout your entire foot, as well as the weight of what had just occurred. Within moments, the eyes of all of the participants were on you, as well as the eyes of the one person whose attention you really did not want in such an embarrassing moment. No, no, no.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook’s panicked voice echoed throughout the room as he spoke into his headset and he quickly dropped his weights on the ground. “Um, okay, the rest of you can keep going! I’m going to get someone else to come in within a few minutes so I can help her.” Within moments, he was shoving his way through the room until he was right in front of you and pulling the microphone away from his mouth so the rest of the class wouldn’t hear your interaction. “Are you alright? Oh my god, you shouldn’t be putting pressure on it. Let’s get you out of here and get some ice.”

You genuinely thought you were going to pass out. It had little to do with your toe, and a whole lot to do with Jungkook’s sudden closeness. His concerned face was just inches away from yours as his eyes scanned yours for any sort of explanation for what had just unfolded. His presence was intoxicating. You could smell the combination of his cologne and sweat, and you had yet to tear the image of his gleaming six-pack out of your mind. Oh my god. That had really just happened. The first impression you made on Jungkook, AKA hot coffee shop boy, was you making an absolute fool out of yourself and possibly breaking your toe while doing a simple exercise. You were never going to live this one down. You were going to throw up.

When you hadn’t responded to Jungkook within a few seconds, he took it upon himself to drape an arm over your shoulders and pull your body against his side. “Here, lean against me so you’re not putting weight on it. I’m going to bring you to the first-aid room and get you some ice… At the very least.”

It was quite possible that your brain had chosen it was better to black out the memory as Jungkook began to pull you out of the room, yelling to one of the workers at the front desk to quickly find someone else to take over the class. Your legs felt like jelly as they moved beside his, only functioning out of muscle memory rather than true volition. Here you were, body pressed against that of the guy you had admired from afar for over a year. In any other circumstance, this would have been like a dream come true. Instead, you wished the ground would swallow you up and put you out of your misery.

It wasn’t long until you were pulled into what was likely the first-aid room and instructed to sit on top of the counter by a very stressed Jungkook. The more you thought about it, the more horrible you felt. Not only was this the Jeon Jungkook of your fantasies, but it was also the Jeon Jungkook who had informed the class before it had started that this was the first class he had ever led. You had quite literally ruined his first class, and had set an appalling example of what he would expect going forward. If your toe hadn’t been throbbing, you would have seriously considered running right out the door.

“Okay, if you don’t mind, just take off your shoe and sock while I try to find an ice pack,” Jungkook commanded as he nervously raked a hand through his already-messy hair, frantically rifling through the cabinets. Your eyes watched his back as you followed his instructions, guilt filling your entire body. He seemed stressed. Nervous, even. It made sense, if you thought about it. Your foolish accident had just become his responsibility, and he was a new employee. You would be nervous too.

“Found one,” he breathed out, hitting it against the counter a couple of times to activate the coldness. As he turned around to face you, his eyes wandered down to your exposed toe. “Oh no, that looks pretty swollen. Does it hurt really badly? Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t feel great, but I’m okay.” No, no you were not okay, but you needed this to be over. Meeting his eyes, you realized those were the first words you had spoken to him since this whole debacle had unraveled. He probably thought you were crazy. Taking the ice pack from him, you chewed on your lower lip. “I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow as he looked up from your foot to meet your gaze, tilting his head to the side. “Huh? You have no reason to be sorry. Accidents happen. I get it… I’m pretty clumsy too sometimes and have hurt myself much worse than this for much stupider reasons. Really, don’t worry.” He was rambling, and if you hadn’t been so distraught, you would have perhaps realized just how nervous he really seemed. Offering you a shy smile, his eyes averted away from yours as his cheeks flushed a shade of bright red. Redder than they should have been from just working out.

Looking down at your foot, you placed the ice pack on top of it and shook your head. It was difficult to form words with him so close, but you knew you had to if you wanted to redeem yourself at all. You already had created a mental plan to avoid him at all costs and hide from him whenever that wasn’t possible, but this was the least you could do. “No, I’m really sorry. You said at the beginning that this was your first class and I… I kind of ruined it for you. I’m sure you were really excited about it.”

Jungkook remained occupied with your toe as he moved the ice pack to the side, feeling around the bones and moving it gently in various directions to see how bad the pain was. “I don’t think it’s broken. Definitely pretty swollen, but not broken. However, I’m clearly not a doctor so you might want to get a second opinion.” Standing up straight, he offered you a warm smile. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. There’s always going to be more classes for me to teach and I wasn’t just going to let you suffer there. I’m happy to help.”

God, not only was he gorgeous, but he was also this friendly? It was possible that he was just being nice to keep you calm and keep his job, but regardless, he just seemed so perfect. So perfect that you feared being so close to him, for your endless flaws felt as if though they were being magnified. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to return the smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” You needed to escape. You needed to get out of there so you could cry to your friends about just how mortified you were and how you now really never stood a chance with hot coffee shop boy. “I should probably get going. Don’t want to hold you up any longer.”

“You’re not holding me up at all, I promise,” Jungkook responded a bit too quickly, but yet again, you were too focused on your own embarrassment to notice. Crossing his arms over his chest, the tall man tilted his head to the side. “How are you going to get back to your dorm? Do you have a ride? You definitely shouldn’t be walking on your toe.”

Fuck. He had a good point. Regardless of the pain flowing through your foot, you were willing to walk on it just to escape this situation. However, you knew you couldn’t tell him that. “I, uh, one of my roommates has a car and I was going to call her to pick me up.”

“I have my car here. I could drive you.”

Wait, what? Had he really just offered you a ride? If you had met his gaze, you would’ve seen that he looked just as surprised that such an offer had slipped out of his lips so casually. Instead, you stared down at your lap as you attempted to process his suggestion. If the situation had been even slightly less humiliating, a car ride with the Jeon Jungkook would have sounded like one of your fantasies come to life. However, at the current moment all you could imagine was the intense awkward silence that would likely fill the car as you contemplated how to successfully fling yourself out of the window. That would not do right now. You were not in the right headspace to muster up any coherent form of small talk. The offer was likely just extended out of pity anyway. He was a good guy and deemed that that would be the righteous thing to do. No need to burden him and actually make him follow through with it.

“No, no. I wouldn’t make you do that. I’m going to text my friend right now,” you assured him, weakly smiling as you moved the ice pack to the side to retrieve your removed sock and shoe. “You have a workout to finish anyway.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Jungkook insisted, watching intently as you carefully put your sneaker back on and tied it up at lightning speed. When he realized you had no plans of speaking again, a defeated sigh pressed through his lips. Why was he so set on helping you? “Okay, okay. As long as your friend is coming soon, that’ll work. I can walk you to the lobby though.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to let you just run out of the room alone, you forced yourself to nod your head in agreement. You were being dramatic. You could handle one more minute in his presence before you imploded. “Sure, thanks.” The response came off a bit snappier than you had intended, but did that really matter at this point? You weren’t going to be able to show your face around him ever again to begin with.

Once you pushed yourself off of the counter, Jungkook encouraged you to lean most of your weight against him as he led you out the door. As you were already on the first floor of the facility, the walk to the lobby luckily didn’t take too long. Upon arrival, you plopped down in one of the plush chairs by the door, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your hoodie and pretending to draft a text. In all honesty, the moment Jungkook disappeared, you intended to wobble your way back to your dorm by twisting your foot to the side to avoid putting pressure on the big toe. You were well aware that you were going to look ridiculous, but nothing could be more mortifying than what you had already experienced.

Jungkook stood over your chair, rubbing the back of his neck as he rocked from side to side on his feet. Something about him just exuded nervous energy, and it was making you feel even more on edge. “You’re sure your friend is able to come soon, right?”

Nodding your head in response, you lifted your hand into a thumbs-up that you regretted the second your hand formed it. God, you might as well have hit him with some finger guns. Could you be any cringier? “Yes, don’t worry. She’s on her way. Really, thank you though.”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts, Jungkook’s eyes scanned your face one last time. It was almost as if he was searching for any hint of a lie, but if he had been, he wasn’t able to find it. “Okay, okay… If you insist. I’m sorry this had to happen to you. I hope it heals quickly.” His lips stretched into that signature bunny smile you had witnessed so many times while seeing him with his friends in public, but it almost looked a little more… Bashful. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

No, no he would not. You weren’t even sure that he had recognized you from being at the same coffee shop so often, but regardless, you had already planned to avoid the location at all costs. You couldn’t stand the thought of him possibly approaching you out of pity to check and see if you were okay.

Instead of expressing any of these concerns, you twisted your lips into a small smile and nodded your head at him. “Mhmm. See you around.”

After lifting his hand in a wave, Jungkook smiled at you once more before turning on his heel and slowly starting to make his way back toward the main area of the gym. You watched as he began to disappear, as you planned on rushing out the door the moment he was out of sight. Right before he rounded the corner, his body twisted to face you once more. If you hadn’t been so fixated on your own embarrassment, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red before he nervously laughed to himself and rounded the corner quickly so he was out of your line of vision.

The moment he disappeared, you gathered your belongings and rose to your feet a bit too quickly, immediately noticing how you forgot to avoid putting pressure on your toe. Fighting through the pain and fighting to maintain any sense of pride you had left, you began your walk-- or rather, wobble-- home.

God, you needed some wine.

The rest of the week passed by without much trouble, but maybe that was due to your advanced avoiding skills. Due to having three midterms throughout the week, most of your time was spent holed up alone studying. While you usually would do most of your studying in your favorite quiet coffee shop, you made it a point to steer clear of it at all costs. You were well aware that Jungkook also spent a lot of his time in that specific location, and you weren’t ready to show your face to him if it could be prevented. He had been right; your toe wasn’t broken, but instead just badly bruised. While your toe may have been fine, your ego certainly wasn’t. After stumbling home after the incident on that Monday evening, your roommates had a laughing fest at your expense over a few too many bottles of wine. They attempted to convince you that what had happened really wasn’t that embarrassing, that Jungkook seemed to be really sweet about it, and that such a chaotic event would be ‘the most epic story to tell people about the start of your relationship at your wedding.’ Although you indulged in their pipe dreams for the time being, you were going to stick to your plan: avoid Jungkook at all times possible until enough time had passed that he likely forgot about your humiliating catastrophe.

After a week of cramming for exams and perfecting your evading abilities, you were beyond ready to take a night to unwind and destress. That was precisely why you found yourself out at one of popular college bars by your campus with your friend Jennie on Friday night. The pair of you weren’t exactly the type to go out and let loose very often as you tried your best to prioritize your studies, but once you allowed yourself to get dressed up and had a few vodka-crans running through your veins, you understood why a lot of college students went out so often and remembered why you used to so much during your freshman year. The sensation of being tipsy and laughing with your friends was truly therapeutic and a much-needed antidote to counteract the toxic environment of never-ending stress.

Having been at the bar for over an hour, it started to get quite crowded. As you twirled your straw around in your half-empty drink, you watched as Jennie began to look around at all of the new faces in the bar before freezing and pursing her lips. “Okay, not to make you freak out or anything… But hot coffee shop boy AKA sexy fitness instructor boy AKA Jeon Jungkook is here,” she whisper-yelled at you as she leaned toward your ear. “He seems drunk… Like really drunk.”

Blinking rapidly as you tried to process this new information, you pulled back from her and began to shake your head. This certainly was not what you needed to hear right now, but the alcohol in your system calmed you down at least a little bit so you didn’t immediately book it out of the place. “So what you’re telling me is that I need to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night?” Despite your fears, you really wanted to get a glance of him. Although the bar was quite large, you told yourself it would be too risky. If experience had taught you anything, it was that even one glance at him could be fatal for you.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jennie scoffed, shoving your shoulder before taking a long sip of her drink. Her gaze remained set on the area of the crowded bar that you refused to look toward. “He’s…” She paused for a moment before her eyes widened. “Okay, I might be a little drunk, but I’m almost positive he keeps looking over here.”

“Maybe because you’re staring at him and drawing attention to us,” you scolded, narrowing your eyes at her. “Please stop before I jump over the actual bar and hide behind it.”

Jennie laughed at your dramatic suggestion, eyeing your nervous persona up and down. “Relax, relax.” She looked over your shoulder yet again. “Oh, wait. He’s on the move now so I don’t think you have to worry.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you took an extra long sip of your drink. “Thank god. I don’t need to relive my earlier trauma on a night out.”

“Wait, fuck. I think--”

“Ah, is that toe girl?!”

Your whole body froze as you heard the close proximity of a very familiar male voice behind you. You wanted to believe that your initial guess of what was occurring wasn’t true, but the mixture of shock and amusement on Jennie’s face as she looked over your shoulder at the sight behind you confirmed that your worst nightmare was, in fact, true.

Sucking in a deep breath and downing the rest of your drink before placing it down on the bar, you gave yourself a mental pep talk before slowly turning on your heel to face the source of the voice. If there hadn’t been a decent amount of alcohol in your system, you were quite certain that you would’ve passed out right then and there.

There before you stood Jungkook with a cheeky grin spread across his lips and arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at, unfortunately, you. He was sporting a pair of tight, ripped black jeans and a matching black t-shirt. The clasping of a beer bottle in one hand and the way his arms were folded made his bicep muscles protrude in a manner that had you ready to start drooling. Jennie had been right; his face was glowing a bright shade of red, likely due to a great deal of alcohol consumption.

Clearing your throat, you forced your lips into a shy smile as you folded your hands together in front of you. You wished you hadn’t finished your drink so you had something more natural to do with your hands. It felt as if though your heart was going to explode through your chest, but he was here now and there was no escaping. “God, is that really what I’m known as now?”

“I mean, kind of.” Jungkook let out a loud laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. How was he so fucking gorgeous? And why the fuck was this beautiful man going out of his way to talk to you on a night out? “But I won’t call you that anymore. It’s Y/N, right?”

Your brow furrowed as your mouth opened in surprise. Wait, what? Jungkook knew your name? It felt like your mind was moving at a million miles a minute trying to process just how that could be possible.

A hand reached out from behind you to squeeze your shoulder, Jennie stepping forward and revealing herself after you had forgotten about her existence for a minute. Her lips were twisted upward into a mischievous smile. “I see a couple of my friends from one of my classes. Gonna go say hi to them. I’ll meet up with you later.” After not-so-discreetly wiggling her eyebrows at you, she mouthed what appeared to be “good luck” before sauntering off.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now.” Jungkook chuckled quietly as he watched Jennie walk away before setting his eyes back on you and smiling warmly. You were convinced that his smile was going to be the death of you. “Hopefully you won’t try to run off as quickly as you did the other day.”

“I did not run off!” you scoffed immediately, crossing your own arms over your chest as you feigned offense. Once again, thank god for alcohol, for you were well aware that this conversation would not be happening without it. He was right, but you hadn’t realized he had noticed your urgency in escaping that day. ‘I… I wasn’t even aware that you knew my name.”

“Suuure you didn’t. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” Jungkook teased, leaning forward a bit to nudge his shoulder against yours. The area of skin he touched immediately felt like it was on fire, as did your cheeks. “But of course I know your name. We had Earth Science together last year and you’re always studying at the same coffee shop by North campus that I do. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

You? Hard to miss? Not to mention, the Earth Science class was a lecture with over one hundred students in it, and the professor hardly ever took any form of attendance. Sure you could say the same thing about you knowing his name, but that was only because you had gone out of your way to find out who he was after becoming captivated by him upon seeing him at the coffee shop. This didn’t make any sense. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating?

Raising an eyebrow at him, you decided to keep your response simple. “You’ve never talked to me, though…”

“I know, I know.” Jungkook unfolded his arms and clasped both of his hands around his beer bottle, staring down at his fingers as he tapped them against the glass. Maybe it was the dim lighting in the bar, but you could’ve sworn his cheeks darkened as he avoided your eyes. The aroma of cologne and beer coming off of him at the close proximity had you feeling light-headed. “I’ve always wanted to. Planned to talk to you at the coffee shop this week, but you were nowhere to be seen. You just… I… You’re really pretty and you’re always smiling and I kind of freaked out when I saw you taking that class on Monday. I’m pretty shy and not exactly the most confident person so I have no idea why I’m saying this right now… Definitely all of the beer I’ve drank… But I probably shouldn’t be overstepping or saying any of this anyway since I’m starting to realize that you’ve probably been avoiding me or think I’m weird or something. Sorry for offering to drive you home the other day… I realized after that that probably seemed creepy coming from a total stranger.” He looked to the side as he began to nervously tap his foot against the floor. Something that sounded like a nervous laugh pressed through his lips. “Fuck. This is why I barely ever drink.”

Your body remained frozen as you stared at the side of his face, fully aware of the fact that your jaw had dropped and you were visibly gaping at him. No. There was absolutely no way that those words came out of his mouth and he meant them. It had to be the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, right? Or maybe he was just sweet talking you to try to get laid. That had to be it, right? You weren’t sure if you were going to throw up, pass out, or do both at the same time. The vodka taking over your own system was preventing you from being able to form any sort of coherent thought. Still, he deserved a response.

“What? I don’t think you’re weird at all,” you reassured, chewing on your lower lip as you tried to read the expression on his face. God, you really could have come up with something better than that.

Jungkook’s doe eyes at last met yours again, a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Then why’d you lie and say your friend was picking you up and end up walking home on a possibly broken toe instead of letting me drive you home?”

Oh my god, he had seen you do that? You were certain he was completely out of sight when you had dragged yourself out of the building. To be fair, you hadn’t taken into account the fact that the place was covered with windows that would have given anyone access to see outside the front of the building, but why would he have been looking anyway? Just as you thought that day couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing, it did.

The mix of alcohol in your system and your heart pounding in your chest was quickly becoming too much to handle and making you lose control over your faculties. Maybe that was why you blurted out, “I-I don't know… You make me nervous.”

“You make me nervous too!”

Before you could even begin to comprehend the weight of his words, another male figure popped up beside Jungkook and draped an arm over his shoulders. His bright pink hair made him easily identifiable. It was iced chai, also known as Park Jimin. If Jennie had noticed he was there, she certainly would have been freaking out.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you. You just disappeared on me,” Jimin informed Jungkook, his gaze quickly moving to set on your distraught form. If you hadn’t been so out of sorts, perhaps you would’ve noticed the look of recognition in his eyes as they set on you. “I’m sorry, is he bothering you? He never usually goes out with us and gets drunk like this, so I’m sorry if he’s a little chaotic.”

Shaking your head at Jimin, you offered him a comforting smiling. You could feel Jungkook’s concerned eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “No, no. He’s not bothering me at all, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he might do something stupid.” Jimin let out a sigh of relief, looking between the pair of you. Could that ‘something stupid’ be what had just occurred? At last, he gave Jungkook a firm pat on the shoulder. “We have to get going right now. Hoseok thought it’d be a good idea to down five tequila shots in a row after all of the beer we drank back at the dorm. He has his head down on the bar with his eyes closed and I want to get him out of here before he starts puking everywhere. Afraid you might end up in the same state if you keep drinking at this pace too, dude.”

“I’m fiiine,” Jungkook snapped back at him, rolling his eyes as he shrugged Jimin’s arm off of his shoulder. He peered at you for a quick second before his eyes averted downward, the nerves that had been there before refusing to go away. After taking a few moments to ponder what his friend had just told him, he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. We can go. Only because it’s Hoseok though.”

“I’ve already requested the Uber so we should head outside now,” Jimin urged, glancing over toward where Hoseok likely was sitting at the bar.

“Um.” Jungkook at last forced himself to look at you, his lips curving upward into the slightest smile. It seemed forced though, and you knew it was because you didn’t have the opportunity to elaborate on and finish the conversation you were having before Jimin butted in. You also felt as if though you were about to self-implode and needed some time to comprehend what had just unfolded. “Sorry. I have to get going, I guess. I’ll see you around though, okay?”

Nodding your head in agreement, you allowed yourself to return a reassuring smile. “Okay. I’ll see you around.” This time, it was possible that you meant it.

After he gave you one last anxious look, he turned on his heel and followed Jimin’s lead, disappearing out of your sight.

Where the fuck was Jennie?

After scoping out Jennie in the corner of the bar, you had convinced her that it was absolutely necessary to immediately take an Uber home to debrief on what had occurred. Within half an hour, you had managed to arrive back safely to your dorm and had replaced your uncomfortable clothes with pajamas and your vodka crans with a bottle of wine. Although your mind felt quite foggy from trying to piece together everything that Jungkook had said, you were able to provide Jennie with at least the majority of the details.

“Wait, hold on. Let me think about this.” Jennie threw herself back against your bed, staring up at the ceiling after her head hit the pillows. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you are to Jungkook what Jungkook is to you? Like he pretty much admitted to admiring you from afar and being too afraid to talk to you all of this time?” she questioned, eyes wide in amazement. “God damn, why can’t shit like this happen to me? This is like some fairytale shit. You’re so fucking lucky.”

Taking a big swig directly out of the bottle of cheap rosé, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. It seems too good to be true. Like, what if he was just really drunk and didn’t know what he was saying? You even said he seemed really drunk. Or like, what if he was just being nice because he was trying to get laid?”

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous. I know this all seems so unreal because we never thought something like this was possible, but the things he said to you were way too specific to just be a fluke.” Jennie sat up straight again and pulled the bottle of wine out of your hands, taking a sip herself. “Besides, I was watching you guys from across the bar. He looked absolutely smitten with you and ridiculously nervous, drunk or not.”

“Fuck, I’m so much better at just daydreaming about guys than actually knowing how to talk to them and attempting to form actual relationships,” you groaned out, closing your eyes and resting your head on Jennie’s shoulder. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I hate to break it to you since I know this is very out of character for you, but you’re going to have to make the next move. He laid his cards on the table, and now the ball is in your court.” Jennie allowed her head to fall on top of yours and passed the bottle of wine back to you. “Based on what you explained to me, you didn’t really provide him with a whole lot of reassurance that the feeling was mutual and he’s probably feeling super embarrassed right now… Like, definitely more embarrassed than you felt after the whole gym incident. You have to let him know that you’re interested in him too.”

Letting out a huff, you tapped your fingers against the glass of the bottle of wine. Jennie did have a valid point, as much as you hated to admit it. Regardless of Jungkook’s intentions and just how drunk he may have been, he had seemed incredibly flustered after rambling on and exposing what he had to you. As much as there was still a part of you that was convinced that he hadn’t meant what he said, there was a bigger part of you that was excited about what this could possibly lead to if you followed through with it. You would have to throw away your nerves and muster up the tiny bit of confidence you had if this was ever going to happen.

“Okay, so what’s the game plan?”

The plan you and Jennie had concocted ended up being a lot more difficult to follow through with than you had initially imagined. The original scheme involved you approaching him at the coffee shop you both always studied at, but despite the numerous occasions you dropped by and spent hours studying there over the next week, he was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if he had adopted the same avoiding technique you had the week prior after being embarrassed at what unfolded at the gym. You weren’t exactly surprised, but it was making this whole thing a lot more complicated for you. Furthermore, the longer it dragged out, the more anxious you got that maybe this was all a bad idea and that you had misunderstood what he said at the bar.

After a week with no luck, Jennie had convinced you that maybe it would be a better idea to try to track him down at the gym. Despite going almost every day and keeping your eyes peeled for him, he was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until a few days later that it dawned on you that the group fitness class schedule was posted online, and that it was possible that he now had some classes that were officially assigned to him. Sure enough, upon checking the recreation website, you quickly discovered that he did have a couple classes that he was set to teach. While this information certainly was helpful, it was quite unfortunate that every class he led happened to be at the ass-crack of dawn. God, were you really interested in the type of guy who gets up extra early to work out? Apparently so.

So that was precisely how you found yourself rolling up to the gym at 6:45am on a Tuesday morning, eyes heavy with exhaustion as you searched for the room the class was being held in. Your heart was pounding and your palm was sweaty against your water bottle, but you were too dedicated to turn around at this point. You had spent over a week trying to track him down, and you at last had.

When you entered the room, Jungkook had not arrived yet. There were already quite a few girls in the room setting up their equipment, so you followed suit. As most participants were often too intimidated to take the spots up front and center in front of where the instructor stood, you took it upon yourself to do the honors. Of course you knew this would make Jungkook want to run the other way, but the thrill of making him as nervous as you were that last time was too exciting to turn down.

The door of the room opened and closed once more, and you didn’t even have to look up to feel his presence. Here we go. “Hi, everyone! Welcome to class. My name is Jungkook and I’ll be your instructor toda--” His voice cut off at the end of his statement, and when you finally allowed your eyes to set on him, he was already looking at you with wide eyes and tinted cheeks. Within a millisecond, his eyes found the ground and he apprehensively took his spot directly in front of you. The poor guy didn’t have a choice. “U-Um, if you guys have any questions before we get started, please don’t hesitate to wave me over!” You had a very strong feeling he was praying you wouldn’t wave him over.

The plan you had created before arriving was to wait until after class was over to ask him if he could talk for a few minutes. You knew it wouldn’t be fair to put him on the spot before class, and you didn’t exactly feel comfortable confessing your feelings for him in front of twenty other girls who were probably drooling over him as well either.

You managed to follow through with the plan, not communicating with Jungkook at all before and throughout the class except for a few soft smiles and some attempted eye contact. The eye contact thing didn’t go over so well though, for whenever you did manage to get Jungkook to lock eyes with you, he’d immediately turn bright red and force himself to look everywhere but at you. His nervous stammering through the microphone when giving instructions was almost too cute to handle.

When the class finally did come to an end and you were a sweaty mess, you sucked in a deep breath as you watched the rest of the participants start to put away their equipment. Setting your eyes on Jungkook, you smiled slightly. “Hey, can we talk?”

Jungkook looked up from his phone, eyes wide and clearly panicked. He scanned your face carefully, almost as if he was trying to guess what your intentions were. At last, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shoved his phone into his pocket. “U-Um, sure, I guess. Let’s just wait until everyone clears out.”

Nodding in agreement, you sat back and watched as the rest of the participants put their materials back in the closet and slowly began to file out of the room. With each person that left, you could sense Jungkook getting more and more anxious. He seemed to be mindlessly checking things around the room, his eyes darting back and forth between the door and any part of you that wasn’t your eyes. By the time the last girl exited, your heart was pounding in your chest as well.

Clearing your throat, you watched as Jungkook walked to the front of the room to shut the door, seeming to take as long as humanly possible to pull it closed. Just as you were about to speak the pitch you had practiced in your head and to Jennie numerous times over the past week, he opened his mouth.

“Look, I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here and I know that I might have been a bit overbearing when I was drunk last week, but if you’re just here to make me nervous and make fun of me and my awkward self for having a crush on you, you can just leave.” He at last whipped around to face you, a sad expression taking over his features as he began to pace back and forth, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He resembled something like a wounded puppy, and the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed just how exhausted and agitated he looked.

That definitely was not what you had expected and you felt awful that he had spent over a week thinking that you were probably teasing him with your friends for what he had said to you at the bar. Furrowing your brow, you pushed yourself up to your feet and crossed your arms over your chest. The planned speech was not going to do in these circumstances. You would have to cut straight to point.

“I dropped that weight on my foot because I’ve been ridiculously attracted to you for over a year and got embarrassingly flustered at the sight of your shirt riding up during class.”

Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks, clasping both of his hands behind his head as he at last allowed himself to look at you. His eyes were wide in shock, his head tilted just slightly to the left. “Wait, what?”

“I didn’t want you to drive me home because I was already so embarrassed and was so nervous that I would’ve only embarrassed myself more trying to talk to you without making a complete fool out of myself.”

As you spoke again, Jungkook hesitantly took a couple of steps in your direction. It seemed as if though his expression was slowly softening, and what almost appeared to be a small smile was fighting to form on the corners of his lips. “I asked you to borrow a pen that one time in Earth Science with plans to work up the nerve to talk to you at the end of class when I had to give it back, but instead I just kept it and ran out of the room because I got too nervous.”

Unable to hide your own smile now, you allowed yourself to take a step toward him. The closer you got to each other, the more the tension in the room built. “I lied and said that I had an extra pen that day, but really I gave you my only one and just didn’t take notes that whole class.”

At last, that familiar bunny smile stretched across Jungkook’s whole face, his chest bubbling in laughter as he threw his head back. “I once tried to ‘accidentally’ drop a book near you at the coffee shop in hopes that you’d pick it up and talk to me, but instead I just dropped it and tripped over it.” Another step forward.

Giggling quietly, you chewed on your lower lip as you advanced forward. “My friends and I have collectively referred to you by the code name ‘hot coffee shop boy’ ever since the first time I saw you there. Also, ‘sexy gym instructor boy’ since last week.”

Jungkook’s eyes were boring into yours at this point, his body inching forward just slightly as his toes finally bumped against yours. The tension-- not just from what was happening at the moment, but also from a year of pining after each other-- was so close to bubbling over. “My friends and I know you as ‘hot coffee shop girl.’ Also, ‘toe girl’ since last week.” The warm smile on his lips had twisted into a sort of mischievous smirk.

Leaning your head forward the slightest bit, your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “If I haven’t made it clear yet, I’m extremely into you.”

Jungkook’s eyes-- which had darkened quite a bit over the last minute-- flickered down to your lips, his own head leaning forward an inch. With this movement, the tip of his nose brushed against yours. “And if I haven’t made it obvious yet, I’m extremely into you too.”

Before you could utter another word, Jungkook closed the minimal space remaining between the two of you by crashing his plump lips into yours. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, one moving along the back of your head to tangle into your hair. Your own hands gripped to the front of his shirt as you stumbled back a bit due to the impact, your back bumping against the mirror in the front of the room. The tension that had previously been building had popped the moment his lips met yours, but as his fingers tugged on your hair and his tongue found its way between your lips, you felt it resurfacing, this time between your legs. You felt a bit flustered getting turned on this quickly by him, but when you put it into perspective, you had been waiting for this moment to unravel for over a year. As your hands slid up the front of his shirt to rest on his defined core, you were certain you could feel his length getting hard against your thigh.

Pulling away after a minute, Jungkook rested his forehead against yours and stared deeply into your eyes as he breathed heavily. There was a playful smirk on his lips as he dropped the hand from your face and rested it on your hip. It was nice to see that he had finally let his guard down. “So, I have to ask. Are you more for sex first or a fancy date first? I’m happily offering both, but we’re both kind of coming off a bit impatient here.”

Biting your tongue to hold in your laughter, you couldn’t ignore the way that the heat in the pit of your stomach was quickly sinking down lower between your legs. “You know, if you hadn’t been so difficult to track down this past week, I may have taken you up on that fancy date first.” You ghosted your fingers over his stomach, eliciting a surprised jolt out of him. “But after you made me wait so long, I think you just might have to fuck me first.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise at your lewd words before he smirked and pressed his body against yours a bit harder, leaning forward to kiss a trail of wet kisses down your jawline. “I’m happy to be at your service, but we’re kind of out in the open here. I could drive us back to my room, that is if you’ll actually get in the car with me this time.”

Rolling your eyes at his teasing comment, you shoved at his chest. Regardless, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were feeling incredibly impatient and weren’t sure you would be able to handle the wait while he transported you across campus. Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes scanned the room. “Equipment closet. It’s spacious enough, it locks, and there’s no windows.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. When he didn’t find any, he smirked and pulled back, grabbing your hand in his. “You know, I had planned on doing a lot of things today, but fucking in an equipment closet at the ripe hour of eight in the morning certainly wasn’t one of them.”

“Get used to it, hot coffee shop boy.” Smirking to yourself, you allowed him to drag you towards the closet, pressing your back against the door after he closed and locked it behind you. “Are you complaining?”

Rapidly shaking his head, Jungkook leaned forward and peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone, only pulling back to tug your shirt and sports bra over your head. “No, no. Just concerned you’re going to be the death of me before I even get started with you.” Taking a step back, he pulled his own shirt over his head before allowing his eyes to rake up and down your body. A combination of lust and admiration filled his eyes as he stepped toward you again. “God, you really are so beautiful.”

Despite the fact that you had both been completely open with each other and the current situation being far from romantic, you felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Shaking your head, you poked him in the stomach. “Speak for yourself. That’s the reason why I almost broke my toe.”

Throwing back his head in laughter, Jungkook stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting your body up and placing you down on top of a few stacked crates full of equipment. “Mmm, I can make it up to you right now.”

Leaning forward, you pressed a few kisses along the corners of his lips and his jaw. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Shhh, patience.” Jungkook grinned as he bent down, slowly kissing a trail down your neck and collarbones. When he reached your breasts, he slowed down his pace, carefully taking one of your nipples between his lips and softly sucking at the skin. Once he established a rhythm that he was satisfied with, he lifted a hand and latched it around your other breast, kneading the skin between his fingers.

Letting out a soft moan, you threw your head back in pleasure and closed your eyes. Your hands fastened around his neck, gently tugging at the hair on the back of his head. The longer his lips and hands worked at your breasts, the more the heat between your legs throbbed. “How am I supposed to be patient when I’ve waited so long for this?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his lips making a popping noise as he removed them from your breast. “You make a fair point.” Kissing down your stomach, he urged you to lift your hips as he tugged your leggings and panties down your legs and allowed them to fall into a pile on the floor. Kneeling down on the floor, his lips trailed their way up the inside of your thigh. “Mmm, so wet already and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Whimpering softly at the feeling of his lips so close to where you needed them, you bucked your hips upward in an attempt to feel any sort of friction. “P-Please.”

Chuckling quietly, Jungkook’s dark eyes remained on yours as he ghosted his lips over your dripping pussy. The shy, insecure boy that he claimed to be earlier was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was now indulging in the power he held over you. “Who made you this wet? Tell me.”

“You, J-Jungkook. You did,” you whined out, attempting to push down on the back of his head.

Jungkook flashed you a satisfied smirk, nodding his head. “That’s all I needed to hear, babe.” Without another word, he gripped his hands around your thighs roughly and lifted your legs to drape over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he closed the remaining space and attached his lips to your pussy. Rather than making you wait any longer to have the tension relieved, he immediately went to work on your throbbing clit, gently sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Once he was pleased by the moans leaving your lips and the clenching of your thighs, he pulled his lips off and replaced it with his tongue. Expertly circling his tongue on your clit, he reached one hand down and, without warning, began to pump one of his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, Jungkook,” you moaned out loudly, pulling harshly at his hair with one hand and reaching the other up to pinch at one of your nipples. “R-Right there.”

“Mmm, need to get you stretched out and ready for my cock,” he murmured against your heat, quickly inserting another finger and curving them at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot with every pulse. After circling your clit with his tongue a few more times, he encircled the bud with his lips yet again, this time humming against it to add an extra feeling of friction.

The sensation of his tongue and fingers working on your pussy and the sight of his glistening face was quickly becoming too much to handle. With every movement, the bundle of nerves in your core was getting closer and closer to snapping and sending you into that blissful state you so longed for. Biting down on your lower lip roughly, you closed your eyes tightly. “I-I’m close.”

“Open your eyes. I want you looking at me while you cum all over my tongue,” he rasped out after pulling back slightly, only leaning back down once you obeyed his command. After a moment, he wet two of his fingers on his tongue before quickly beginning to circle them on your clit, moving his tongue in and out of your cunt at the same speed.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook!” you yelled out, forcing your eyes to remain open and fixed on his as you were quickly sent over the edge and into a state of ecstasy. Your walls spasmed around his tongue as your vision became blurry and filled with stars. The feeling was only prolonged as Jungkook kept moving his tongue until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached forward to push his head back slightly, left completely breathless as you stared at him.

Getting off his knees and onto his feet, Jungkook stared down at you in awe, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. The sight of your release on his lips that he refused to wipe off had your core already begging for more. “God, that was so fucking hot. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Letting out a deep breath, he pecked your lips a couple times.

“How are you so fucking good at that?” you muttered against his lips, blindly reaching forward in search of the tie on his sweatpants. Once you found it, you tugged roughly at it, sitting up straighter to urge both his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Chuckling to himself, Jungkook assisted you and pulled the articles of clothing down the length of his legs, stepping out of them once they reached the floor. “I’d like to think that I’m a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets…” His eyes wandered around the room for a moment. “Or in the gym equipment room, apparently.”

Rolling your eyes and giggling at his joke, you pulled him forward again to peck his lips. “You know, if you moved to the side and let me get up, I’d happily return the favor.” Your eyes wandered down the front of his body until they set on his hardened cock resting against his stomach, the sight of it causing you to clench your thighs together.

Shaking his head in response, Jungkook flashed you a shy smile. God, how could he be so sexual yet so cute at the same time? “As enticing as that sounds and as much as I would never turn that down on any other occasion, I’m afraid I’m not going to last if I don’t fuck you right now.” Stepping forward, he looked down before cursing under his breath. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me. We don’t have fuck to if you’re not comfortable.”

“Wow, you didn’t bring a condom with you to your 7am fitness class? How irresponsible of you,” you joked, shoving his shoulder before pulling him closer to you. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean, so as long as you’re clean it’s fine with me.”

“You know, you’re going to regret teasing me,” he warned, laughing softly as he nudged his nose against yours. “But yes, I’m clean too.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you raised a mocking eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? And why am I going to regret it?”

Without another word, Jungkook reached down and grabbed his cock with one of his hands. Rather than pushing it right inside of you, he instead slowly started to rub its angry red tip up and down your folds. His eyes remained on yours, a teasing smirk tugging at the edges of his lips.

Biting on your tongue to suppress your whimpers, your eyes wandered down to the area between your thighs. “W-What are you doing?”

Pressing his lips against your jawline, he let out an amused chuckle. “Nothing until you tell me what you need. Use your words, sweetheart.”

Reaching around him, you dug your nails into the skin on his upper back. It wasn’t in your character to beg during sex, but the sight of the tip of his cock glistening in your juices from your first orgasm was enough to make you give in. “P-Please fuck me, Jungkook.” You forced yourself to lock eyes with him, hoping that the desperation you were exuding would be enough to make him cave.

Grinning in amusement against the skin of your neck, he nodded his head. “Good girl.” Sliding his cock down your folds one last time, he slowly slid it inside of your entrance once he reached it, a loud groan escaping his lips as he pushed all the way inside of you. “F-Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Moaning out in pleasure at the feeling of fullness, you whimpered as you watched the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you. The spectacle alone was enough to make the heat in your core reemerge, and your body was pleading for him to do more. “M-Move. F-Faster, please.”

Grabbing one of your legs, he extended it upward and propped it over his shoulder. After getting a good grip on it, he quickly began to thrust in and out of you. “Yeah? You like that, babe?” he breathed out, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure before he buried his face into your neck again.

Dragging your nails down his sweaty back, you were sure you were going to leave some marks behind. It only took a few moments for the feeling of overstimulation to wash away, and a new, deeper pleasure to replace it. With your leg hanging over his shoulder, his cock managed to hit you at just the right angle with every thrust. Using your grip on his back to press your body closer to his, you took the opportunity to wrap your free leg tightly around his waist. The new position made it so his cock brushed against your clit every time he pulled it out of you, the feeling nearly having your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “O-Oh my god, right there.”

Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes remained fixed on yours as he lifted one hand off of your thigh, pressing his index and middle finger together and moving them toward your mouth. “Open.” Once you complied, he inserted his fingers into your mouth. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched the way you closed your lips, swirling your tongue around his digits a couple of times before sliding your lips back up and releasing them with a loud ‘pop.’ There was a mesmerized look in Jungkook’s eyes as his thrusts slowed for a moment. “J-Jesus fuck, that was hot.”

A cocky smirk initially tried to spread across your lips, but it was washed away the moment he began to circle his lubricated fingers over your clit, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy at a pace that had you ready to unravel at any second. “I-I’m close.”

Letting out what sounded like a combination of a groan and a whimper, Jungkook leaned forward and brushed his lips over yours. “Cum all over my cock for me, babe.”

“J-Jungkook, f-fuck!” The sound of his raspy command and the feeling of his cock inside of you was all it took to push you over the edge again. Your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first, a sensation of rapturous bliss overtaking your senses as your toes curled and your thighs were left convulsing around his body. While your mind went foggy for a few seconds, the strain that was left in the back of your throat suggested that you had yelled out in pleasure quite loudly. The euphoria was dragged out even longer as Jungkook had yet to reach his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you stared up at him with hazy vision, gasping for breath.

“I-I’m close too,” Jungkook whimpered out, eyes screwing shut as your walls continued to twitch around his cock in the aftershock of your orgasm. “W-Where do you want me to cum, babe?”

Coming back to your senses, you blinked a few times until your vision returned back to normal. Finally processing his request, you used quite a bit of your strength to push him back a bit, ignoring the confused look on his face. Using the space in front of you, you pushed yourself off of the elevated surface before getting down on your knees. “My mouth.” Reaching forward, you grasped his shaft in one hand, pumping his length a few times before leaning down and capturing his tip between your lips. After circling your tongue around it a few times, you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down.

“O-Oh my… F-Fuck, Y/N.” Jungkook quickly adapted to the new sensation, his hands reaching around your head to tangle into your hair and urge your head down his cock further. He locked eyes with you from above, his legs trembling around your head. Taking notice of just how close he was, you forced your mouth down further to accommodate the rest of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around his length at the bottom. The motion and the feeling of the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat was enough to make you gag, and that was all it took to push Jungkook to his climax.

Jungkook was a groaning mess above you as he released his load down your throat, unconsciously thrusting into your mouth further a couple of times to ride out of high. After a few more spurts of his hot cum filled your mouth, you worked your mouth back up his length. Once your lips popped off of the tip of his cock, you pulled back and swallowed thickly, the salty taste of his release lingering in your throat.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Jungkook reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you up onto your feet in front of him. Despite the crude nature of what had just occurred, the smile stretched across his lips seemed so… Innocent. “Well… That happened.” He reached up and pushed the sweaty hair that was sticking to his forehead out of his face.

Laughing softly at his words, you bit your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “I mean, that’s certainly one way to work out at the gym.”

Jungkook’s whole body shook as he erupted into laughter, leaning down and beginning to grab all of your discarded clothing articles off of the ground. He sorted through them and handed you back yours, beginning to redress himself after. Once he was dressed, he grabbed a towel out of one of the crates and made sure the area was clean. “Don’t forget we worked out before too. That’s two whole workouts. We’re going to need to fuel up with some electrolytes or coffee or something.”

Forcing your damp leggings back onto your sweaty body wasn’t exactly the easiest or most enjoyable thing to do, but you managed. Once your shirt was back on, you looked back over at him and feigned an exaggerated amount of excitement. “Oh my god, am I going to be able to get coffee with hot coffee shop boy?”

“Only if hot coffee shop girl would be so willing to accompany him,” Jungkook jived, nudging your shoulder with his before unlocking and pulling open the door of the closet. To your relief, the room was still empty and there seemed to be no one lurking outside of it. Grabbing his backpack at the front of the room, he slung it over his shoulder. “It might be a good idea for us to shower first, though. I have a strong suspicion that we probably smell prettttty bad.”

Grabbing your own bag and water bottle, you laughed in amusement as you followed him out the door of the classroom and into the main area of the gym. “I have a feeling you’re right. Should we shower and plan to meet up after?”

Walking through the lobby, Jungkook held open the main door for you before following you outside. It was much brighter out now than when you had arrived at the facility almost two hours prior. Time really does fly by when you’re having fun. “I feel like we can’t really be trusted with the whole ‘see you around’ thing and going our separate ways just yet after the shit we both pulled avoiding each other the past couple weeks. Plus, I’m not quite done with you just yet.”

Snickering at the reminder of your past dramatic behavior, you nodded your head in agreement. “So what did you have in mind?”

Stopping in his tracks, Jungkook turned to face you. “So first, I was thinking you could come back to my place and we could both shower there. I could provide you with some clothes for the time being, but if you need to change later, I can bring you back to your place.” The corners of his lips began to twitch upward. “However, that would require you getting into my car with me, and history suggests that doing so ‘makes you nervous,’ or something like that.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I remember something about me making you nervous too. I think some weird drunk guy told me that.” Scoffing at his flirtatious teasing, you playfully shoved his chest. “Anything else planned?”

“Hey, that ‘weird drunk guy’ is the reason we’re here today,” he scoffed, grabbing one of your hands off of his chest and lacing his fingers with yours. “Then I was thinking we could go to our favorite coffee shop. But… And I know this is kind of a wild idea... I’m thinking we sit at the same table for the first time instead of dropping pens and books to try to get each other’s attention from across the room.”

Squeezing his hand, you began to follow him as he led the way to what you assumed was going to be his car. “A bold suggestion, but I’m into it. Might have you drop a book at my feet and I’ll stare at you across the room longingly just for old time’s sake.” When you reached a shiny black SUV, Jungkook unlocked it and walked around the passenger side, opening the door for you. “So I’m guessing these plans involve us skipping classes today?”

“Well, obviously.” Jungkook flashed you a bright grin as you climbed into the car, shutting the door gently once you were in the seat. He ran around the front of it and quickly hopped into the driver’s seat, leaning over to look at you once inside. “And then once the evening comes, as I suggested earlier, I would still love to take you out to dinner, if you’d let me.” Despite everything that had just unfolded and all of the confessions you both had shared, there still appeared to be a glimmer of nervousness and hesitation in his eyes.

Leaning to the side, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his. Your lips formed into a reassuring smile. “I would love to.”

Jungkook lifted your hand that was over his to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against your fingers. “Good.” Turning to face forward, he started the car and began to back out of the space. As he looked at the pathway in front of the gym, he directed a mischievous smirk at you. “Remember that time you walked back to your room on a swollen toe to avoid getting into my car with me? Good times.”

Letting out a groan, you covered your flushed face with both of your hands. “If you don’t shut up, I’m about to hit you with a ‘see you around’ and roll right out of the side of your car while it’s moving.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorrrry,” Jungkook laughed to himself, grabbing the wrist closest to him to pull your hand off of your face. “As compensation for your shame, I will make another embarrassing confession.” He knitted his brow together as he thought for a few moments before chuckling to himself as a memory came to mind. “I once accidentally liked one of your Instagram pictures that was like… 72 weeks old and almost considered moving to another country and changing my identity. I unliked it right away and you probably didn’t even notice, but I was stressed. There. Does that make you feel better?”

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, you glanced at the side of his face. “Mmm, a little bit. I think I’m going to need you to keep going.”

Jungkook scoffed as he placed your hand that he was holding down on his thigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How is that fair? I think I deserve some form of payment if I’m going to keep exposing myself too.”

“Fine, fine.” You gently squeezed his thigh, your mind sifting through all of the embarrassing things you had done in the past due to your embarrassing infatuation of the boy who was now sitting beside you. “I tried to order you, like, a sort of secret admirer coffee on Valentine’s Day, but the barista ended up giving it to the wrong guy and I ended up leaving the shop because I was so mortified.”

“Aw, I’ve always wanted to have a secret admirer,” Jungkook teased, parking the car in front of his building. “God, we really could go on forever with these embarrassing stories, huh?”

Nodding your head, you reached your hand up and playfully poked at his dimple. “It sure seems that way. We’re kind of the worst.”

Unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the car, he met you at the front of it and draped an arm over your shoulders. “Good. Just gives me another reason to keep you around longer.”

And while ‘see you around’ hadn’t been a promise that either of you kept before, keeping you around from then on certainly was one that he fulfilled.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #college au #bts college au #jeongguk fic #ddaengtae #shamelesslyimagining

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musical-shit-show · 3 years

Text

could have danced all night

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) #14 (“when i’m not with you, it’s almost like…i can’t breathe.”) and #41 (“i may or may not have left some…marks.”) Warnings: sexual references, kissing, meddling siblings, fluffy fluff Word Count: 3,733 Author’s Note: This is my first request! Big shout out to @acmbooksandfilm for sending this in, I had a lot of fun writing it. Also, apologies on it taking a bit to get out, writing has gotten difficult as my real adult job has slowly turned my brain to mush. But, if you would still like to send in a request, feel free! My DMs and Askbox is always open, even though it may take a little longer to complete requests. And as always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists. Thanks for all the love on my other one shots and enjoy!

“Colin, enough,” Benedict huffed as he threw on his shiny black tailcoat, “Surely you have better things to do than pester me about my love life.” Anthony, Benedict, and Colin often crossed paths when getting ready for the numerous events of the season, and now the younger Bridgerton brother was doing everything to get on his elder sibling’s last nerve.

“I’m merely pointing out the obvious, Benedict,” Colin said smugly, straightening his cravat as he looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but flash a mischievous smile at his reflection, “Practically everyone in the ton knows about you two, what’s the harm in proposing?”

“What on God’s green earth are you two talking about?” Anthony strode into the room, closing the door in the likely event that Colin said something inappropriate and scandalized one of their younger sisters or, heaven forbid, their mother.

Benedict couldn’t help but flush. Yes, he was close enough with his brothers to discuss all matters surrounding women, but it felt wrong for him to talk about you. Especially when your relationship wasn’t meant to be any sort of relationship whatsoever.

It had started out innocently enough; you had been close with his younger sister Eloise and Penelope Featherington for years, acting as surrogate older sister on account of you being several years older than them. You were also friendly with Daphne and Simon Bassett, and often had tea with the pair when they weren’t off performing their duties as the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.

In truth, you knew Benedict the least out of the Bridgertons who had or were close to coming of age, and was shocked when he requested to have his name written on your dance card at the first ball of the season. When it came time to dance, you had expected Benedict to act shy at first; but after some coaxing from you, he won you over almost instantly with his wit and humor.

He only asked to dance with you once more at that particular event, not wanting to be improper. However, it was clear from the way the two of you looked at each other that there was a spark.

“No one,” Benedict said, almost too quickly, “Our brother is just sticking his nose into affairs that aren’t his own, as usual.” Anthony rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused by his younger siblings’ bickering. The three of them strode down the stairs of their home and seized a carriage so that the conversation could continue in private.

“So…” Colin drawled, “It is an affair, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant at all.”

“A slip of the tongue, perhaps? You know, brother, you must choose your words more carefully—"

“Mark my words, Colin Bridgerton; I will kill you in this very carriage if—”

“Will the two of you, please,” Anthony huffed, feeling a migraine coming on, “Benedict, is this about who I think it is about…?” Colin nodded fervently, but Benedict remained stone-faced. He hated keeping things from his family, especially his brothers. But he couldn’t risk tarnishing your name, not after what had transpired between you two.

It wasn’t meant to happen. When Benedict had snuck off one night to another one of Sir Granville’s soirées, he was shocked to see you there, wearing a tightly-laced corset, undergarments, and practically nothing else. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened to the size of your mother’s best teacup saucers. Without thinking, you grabbed him and pulled him into the nearest empty room.

“Benedict, wha—what are you doing here?!” he remembered you asking him, utterly flustered. His eyes drifted to the sheer robe draped over your shoulders, the fabric floating gently with your every movement.

“I could very well ask you the same question!” he attempted to whisper, now distracted by how your corset pushed up your bosom considerably, “How do you even know about these, um, parties?” For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of what to say as Benedict’s pale blue eyes bore into yours.

You sighed, resigning to come clean, “Genevieve—Madame Delacroix—she told me about them. I confided in her about my father’s money troubles,” you felt the tears start to well up, but could not bear to cry in front of Benedict in the state you found yourself in, “I barely have any money for a dowry to find a suitable husband, and Genevieve and Sir Granville are familiar so…I work when I can and just make the guests feel comfortable—you know, offer them drinks, tobacco, the like—but I provide nothing more than hospitality.”

You felt that you needed to make that distinction to Benedict. Though you suspected that any chance with him was gone now that he had discovered your secret, you wanted to at least maintain part of your reputation, “Granville is generous enough and I could not be more grateful,” you continued, pulling the nearly translucent robe tightly around your body, “And these parties are so secretive that I thought, perhaps, I could scrounge enough money together before the end of the season before I was discovered. Clearly not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, but Benedict stared at you, his expression earnest, “You need not worry about that,” he breathed, “I won’t tell a soul.” You absentmindedly bit your bottom lip, chewing nervously on a bit of broken skin. Could he really be trusted? Yes, you had crossed paths over the last few weeks, exchanging pleasantries and the occasional flirtatious glance, but would Benedict be able to keep your secret?

“Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied coyly, deciding that you didn’t have a choice in the matter, “Perhaps I will be able to repay you one day.” A sly smile spread across Benedict’s face, his eyes flickering to the locked door. Though the party was continuing on the other side, you two had remained virtually undisturbed.

Feeling bold, he traced his fingers over your collarbone, instantly sending a chill down your spine, “Perhaps…you could repay me now?” he posited, trying his best not to sound like a complete and utter rake, “Only if you wish to, of course.” Despite your best efforts, you could feel a palpable spark that had been building between the two of you over the past few weeks. And you had grown tired of restraining your impulses any longer.

Gently, you placed a soft kiss on his lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and Benedict cupped your face with his hand, his grip surprisingly tender. His free arm wrapped around your body smoothly, pulling you flush against him. You frantically thought through the consequences of someone discovering you with a Bridgerton, but you were too preoccupied with removing Benedict’s clothing to pay much mind…

“Benedict!” Anthony snapped his younger brother out of his reverie as the carriage slowed to a stop, “Would you get your head out of the clouds and tell me what’s going on?” Benedict stared at him, utterly panic stricken. He had kept your secret for nearly a month now, and during that time the two of you had gotten even closer, both in the eyes of the ton and after nightfall in your bedchamber.

Benedict’s mind almost drifted to the night he had shared with you only hours before, but focused on the task at hand, “You needn’t worry your pretty little head, brother,” he said coolly, “I have it all under control.” Anthony looked as if he were going to be sick, and Colin smiled with devilish glee. The three brothers clamored out of the carriage and made their way into the bustling ballroom, more of their family trailing close behind.

Benedict could hear Eloise whine as Lady Bridgerton attempted to smooth down her hair, and he felt a small pang of guilt for not coming to his sister’s aid against their mother’s incessant prodding. But now, he had more pressing matters at hand; namely, what in the hell he was going to say to you now that his brothers were onto him.

He spotted you from across the hall, his heart fluttering with every step he took in your direction. He noticed that you were wearing an intricately laced shawl that was tied tightly across your chest, completely covering your collarbone and much of your breast. Benedict felt himself frown slightly, then immediately scold himself for being improper at a society function; surely, you need not show your bosom to the entire ton in order to draw the eye of him and a number of other suitors.

You were conversing with Penelope and Lady Featherington when he finally approached you, eyes wide with fear, “Hello,” he said politely, giving a slight nod to Penelope and her mother, “Is there a spot open for my name on your card?” You quirked an eyebrow, giving him a smirk as you removed the card from your wrist.

“Why of course, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied in an equally cordial manner. Heaven forbid Portia Featherington get a whiff of your affair; you’d be certain your name would be splashed across Lady Whistledown’s pamphlet before you’d wake the next morning, “In fact, you are the first gentleman to ask, so you may have the first dance. If you are not otherwise engaged, that is.” He shook his head and his eyes gleamed as he returned your card to your delicately gloved hand.

Despite his anxiety being astronomically high, Benedict was delighted that he was able to dance with you so early in the evening. He always thought of you as a fluid dancer, light on your feet as the two of you would glide across the ballroom. He often found himself not being able to take his eyes off you, the lively music and judgmental crowd fading away the moment he embraced you.

More importantly, he wanted to speak to you about the precarious situation you found yourselves in. It was only a matter of time until either Anthony or Colin pried the truth out of him, and he wouldn’t let the news spread across all of London society, besmirching your good name. He cared about you too much to allow such a wretched thing to happen.

A few moments later, all of the couples were signaled that the first dance was to begin. Benedict shot a glance to Colin, who had been talking Anthony’s ear off since they arrived. Now, the two of them were staring him down, whispering like schoolboys. He refrained from scoffing and instead took your hand gently, pulling you into his tall frame as the music began.

You instantly noticed the nervous and almost pained expression splashed across Benedict’s face, and you furrowed your brow in worry. However, you decided your best course of action was to try and alleviate the tension he must’ve been feeling, “I see you haven’t taken a liking to my shawl,” you remarked, a sly smile dancing on your lips, “I will have to tell my sister she has dreadful taste.”

Benedict ripped his eyes from his brothers’ stares and produced a small chuckle at your teasing. He realized he’d much rather converse with you than worry about what Anthony and Colin were up to, “No, it’s uh—it is, quite lovely,” he countered, lowering his voice, “Though I would prefer to see more of you, of course.” You raised an eyebrow, impressed by his boldness.

“I believe you saw plenty last night, Mr. Bridgerton,” you posited, weaponizing his own name against him, “In fact, I suppose you could blame yourself for my more…conservative attire, wouldn’t you agree?”

Benedict couldn’t help but flush, but cleared his throat to attempt to keep up with your rather scandalous banter, “Yes, well…I suppose…” he stuttered, “I may or may not have left some…marks.” He spun you, watching as your dress moved gracefully around your body and fluttered behind you as you gripped his arm once more.

You searched the panicked expression on his face. Surely, he only knew you were teasing, so why did he look like he was on the brink of sickness? “Benedict, why are you acting so strange?” you asked, attempting to keep the mood light while searching for information, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?”

Benedict swallowed, attempting to maintain his composure. Besides the looming threat of every affluent family in Mayfair uncovering your secret, he was also painfully aware of how nervous you had been making him over the past weeks. The way your smile lit up every room, the way your eyes sparkled playfully, the way your laugh made his heart do a somersault.

“It’s just as well,” you continued, not waiting for him to answer your rhetorical question, “I overheard Colin and Pen whispering earlier, and Simon and Daphne as well. Apparently, all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.” He sighed, a little relieved that you had caught onto his family’s shenanigans before he worried you unnecessarily. He couldn’t help but appreciate your perceptive nature.

“Believe me, Colin and Daphne may be my siblings, but they are not my friends right now,” he joked nervously, only half-kidding, “And Anthony is on dangerously thin ice. It appears my family can’t help but get involved in matters that do not concern them.” You giggled, causing Benedict’s heart to swell. He was growing more infatuated with you by the second.

“I wish my family cared half as much as yours does,” you say, a twinge of sadness in your voice, “They are all so wonderful, and I’m sure they are just being protective.” Benedict nodded, heartened by the kindness and understanding you were showing to his siblings. You already got along quite well with Eloise and Daphne, and you were always courteous to his mother while still being able to hold your own when conversing with Anthony or Colin.

As the dance came to an end, Benedict had begun to realize his affection for you. Not just physically; yes, your first encounter at Sir Granville’s had brought you two together faster than he had ever expected. It was reckless, intimate, and completely wonderful, but getting to know you, without dozens of uppity members of high society leering at your every move, was more valuable than any nights you had spent together.

And he decided in that moment, as your hand released from his and you both bowed respectfully, that he could not bear to spend one more day without you by his side. But he could not profess his love in front of God and everyone, least of all his family; he quickly surmised that he must wait until a moment presented itself.

You were quickly whisked away by your mother, unable to even say a proper thank you and goodbye. But as your eyes met his blue ones, you couldn’t help but notice how they were sparkling in the candlelight, and you felt a twinge of melancholy. You cared for Benedict, but feared it was only a matter of time before your affair ended and he was married to another disgustingly wealthy aristocrat. You gave him a fleeting smile before getting dragged to the other side of the ballroom.

As you turned away from him, Benedict felt two hands grasping each of his arms, one hand belonging to each of his meddling brothers, “I knew it!” Colin whisper-yelled as he and Anthony pulled their love-struck sibling into a secluded corner of the lavish hall, “You know, you really aren’t fooling anyone, Ben.”

“How do you mean?” Benedict asked nervously in one last ditch effort to conceal the truth. He shouldn’t have bothered; his brothers had seen how smitten he was with you, and soon the entire ton would be abuzz with salacious gossip if he did not make his move that very evening.

“Benedict,” Anthony chided sternly, clapping him on the shoulder, “Please, do not deny it any longer. You’re clearly bewitched.” The eldest Bridgerton child could not help but smirk; it was almost entertaining to see his usually guarded brother so obviously in love.

Benedict sighed, defeated, “Alright,” he whispered, his face flush with embarrassment, “I apologize for thinking I could ever keep a secret from you two.” Colin smirked proudly, feeling as if he were London’s greatest detective, “I’ll tell you everything if you want, but for the love of Christ, it cannot be here.” He gestured to the room, which was growing more crowded with preening mamas, hunting for the slightest whiff of a scandal.

While Benedict and his brothers searched for a private room for him to regale your escapades, your night flew by, and hours later you found yourself chatting with Daphne and Simon on the gorgeously decorated outdoor terrace. The night was perfectly temperate, and although the noise had died down significantly as many guests had departed for the evening, your head was still swimming in thought. Specifically, you were overwhelmed by the thought of Benedict.

He was quite kind to you, and a very smart, charming gentleman, but you felt your heart lurch as you recalled the intimate nights you had shared over the last few weeks. Men of Benedict’s status would not wed a tainted woman, no matter how much you wished he would. It was only a matter of time before Lady Whistledown revealed your transgressions, and you would be marked as an undesirable to the entire upper echelon of society.

You shuddered at the thought. “Chilly, dear?” Daphne asked sweetly, noticing the unsettled look on your face, “I would think you’d be more protected from the elements with that beautiful shawl on.” Your heart jumped to your throat before you could cover for yourself; Benedict had appeared on the terrace, looking absolutely petrified. Simon and Daphne exchanged glances.

“Darling,” Simon said, turning to his wife, “It is quite crisp out here, don’t you think? Perhaps we should—”

“Go inside to warm up?” Daphne finished his sentence, that unmistakably mischievous glint in her eye that all Bridgerton children possessed, “Why yes, I think that is a fantastic idea, Simon.” She hooked her arm under her husband’s, and the two of them bid you and Benedict adieu, much to your dismay. You were certain he had been found out by his family and was here to end your affair before word reached the rest of the ton.

Still, you managed to smile politely. Simon was right, there was a slight chill that pervaded the terrace, mostly due to the lack of company that had populated the space only hours before, “Hello, Benedict,” you mutter, shifting your weight from one heeled foot to the other, “Will you be departing soon or—?”

“Erm, yes,” he answered a bit too quickly, and you raised an eyebrow. His strange behavior all night was another indicator that ending things was clearly as difficult for him to initiate as it would be for you to accept, “But first, I, well, I need to tell you something. Something I probably should have told you weeks ago.”

You felt a lump in your throat almost instantaneously. ‘Here it comes,’ you thought, more distressed than you hoped you would be. Benedict took your gloved hand, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. If it were not slightly improper, you would almost find it comforting; his touch always seemed to soothe you, ever since your first night together.

“I never expected to…for us to become so close in such a short period of time,” he began, wondering at what point in this silly speech he would make a royal ass out of himself. Though he had gained a little brotherly insight from Anthony and Colin, he still felt as though he could vomit at any second, “And, well, truth be told, I have enjoyed every moment we have spent together.”

You smiled, pleased by his kind words, “Truthfully, I have felt the same,” you remarked, “But it’s quite alright, Ben, I understand—”

“You do?” he cut you off again, a bead of sweat forming on his brow, “Am I really so obvious about my affection for you?” You stared at him, confused. Was this not him ending whatever…relationship the two of you shared? Now you felt like the fool.

“Affection?” you repeated, your mouth twitching, “I thought you did not want to see me anymore.” Benedict’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but laugh dryly. You had mistaken his jittery behavior as a bad omen, when that could not be further from reality.

He shook his head, and you felt the pace of your heartbeat quicken, “My dear, I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding,” he joked, clearing his throat, “I know that our relationship has been a secret for some time, but I cannot hide how I feel for you any longer. You are kind, and witty, and strong, and incredibly adventurous, and when our dance came to an end earlier this evening, I…I felt like there was a part of me missing as soon as you left. I…when I’m not with you, it’s almost like…I can’t breathe.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, taken aback by his doting and earnest words. “And it would be my honor,” he smiled, his gaze intense and impassioned, “If I could ask for your hand.” Your eyes sparkled back at his, and you nodded silently, attempting to conceal a squeal of girlish glee. You two were still, unfortunately, in public.

“Yes,” you exhaled, feeling foolish from your assumptions about Benedict only minutes before, “I would be equally honored to be your wife, Benedict Bridgerton.” You snuck him a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to flush for what was probably the hundredth time that night, “I see our friends were right after all, weren’t they?”

“Yes, yes they were, and I doubt I will ever hear the end of it from Anthony and Colin,” Benedict mused, smiling sweetly as the corners of his eyes crinkled happily, “I’ll see to a proper visit first thing tomorrow morning, I promise.” He studied you, doing all he could to absorb the joyous look etched upon your radiant face. You smirked, turning in the direction of your family’s carriage.

“I shall hold you to that,” you said, pulling him towards the exit, “But don’t think this night is over, Mr. Bridgerton. I’m not done with you quite yet.”

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I hope you enjoyed reading! As always I would love to hear any comments or feedback! Like/comment/reblog, all that good stuff :)

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girlactionfigure · 3 years

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There's something I need to get off my chest.

I'm an Ultra-Orthodox, Chassidic, Hareidi Jew. I live in Jerusalem, in an area that is exclusively Ultra-Orthodox Hareidi for street after street, suburb after suburb, for miles and miles. In all of these neighborhoods where the roads are blocked off and no cars drive on Shabbos, each black-hat-wearing family has many many children and literally no TV’s. I personally only ever wear black and white clothes, my wife only dresses in Chassidic levels of tznius (modesty), and my boys and girls all attend mainstream Hareidi Chassidic schools where the main language is Yiddish. My kids don’t and never will have smartphones, nor have they ever been on the internet at all. Period. They don’t know what social media is and they’ve never seen a movie — not even Disney animation.

Having lived exclusively immersed in this culture for the last 21 years, I think I'm sufficiently qualified and well-researched enough to state that the consistent depiction of Hareidim and Torah Judaism by mainstream media, from Netflix to the daily news, is somewhere between delusion, slander and the literal equivalent of racism. If you consider yourself less closed-minded than how you imagine we Hareidim to be, then permit me to share a few personal details about my family, and other families in our neighborhood, to see how well your mental narrative matches up to reality:

- Besides learning Torah each day, most of the men in our neighborhood work full or part-time.

- Many women in our area work. Some even manage their own business or company. These are not special or “liberated” women — it’s so normal here it’s not even a discussion point.

- My wife is a full-time mother by choice, who despite attending an Ivy League College, finds it a profound and meaningful thing to dedicate her life to. If she didn’t, she’d go get a job. Mind you, she also attends Torah classes each week, works out with both a female fitness coach (who’s gay) and a frum Pilates instructor, writes and edits articles for a couple global websites and magazines, and personally mentors a number of women. None of this is seen as unusual.

- Kids in our community go to Torah schools where they learn (surprise!) Torah. They are fluent in three languages from a young age and the boys even read and understand a fourth (Aramaic). All the kids learn grammar, math and science. Weekly after-school activities have included music (violin, drums, piano), Tae Kwon Do, swimming, art, woodworking and robotics. The girls' school teaches tools of emotional intelligence. The principal of the boys' school doesn't hesitate to refer to kids to OT if needed. I practice meditation with my children multiple times each week. None of our kids think the world is literally 6,000 years old. They devour books about science and think it’s cool. They know dinosaurs existed and don’t find that existentially threatening. They have a telescope with which they love to watch the stars.

- The women in my family (like the men) only dress modestly according to Hareidi standards. The girls don't find this burdensome or oppressive. Period. They aren't taught that beauty is bad. They're certainly not taught to hate their bodies, God forbid. Each morning when they get dressed, they are as happily into their own fashion and looking pretty as any secular girl is. They just have a different sense of fashion than secular culture dictates. (Unfortunately for me, it's no cheaper.)

- The local Hareidi rabbis we receive guidance from are deep, warm, sensitive, supportive and emotionally intelligent. If they weren’t, we wouldn’t go to them.

- My boys assume they will grow up to learn Torah, as much as they want to, and then when they’re ready, get a good job or learn a profession to support whatever lifestyle they choose. My girls assume they’ll be wives and mothers (which they can’t wait for) but they're also warmly encouraged to train in whatever other profession they desire. (My 9-year-old daughter, chatting with her friend in the living room, just commented, "I want to be a mother and a teacher and an artist." Her friend replied, "I'm going to be a ballet teacher.") All options are on the table, and their future seems bright.

- We love living in modern Israel, feel proud and blessed to be here, and frequently count and celebrate its blessings. Everyone in my area votes. Sometimes not even for Hareidi parties. I pay taxes. (And they’re expensive!)

- As a Hareidi person, I’m glad we have Hareidi representation in the government — though I don’t always love or approve of how the Hareidi politicians act, or what they choose to represent. For the record, I'm equally dubious about secular politicians, as well.

- While I don't spend much time in Tel Aviv, I do have a few close Hareidi entrepreneur friends who have founded high-tech start-ups there, and are — Boruch Hashem! — doing very well.

- We don’t hate all non-religious people. Our kids don’t throw stones at passing cars on Shabbos. I doubt they even know anyone who would do that or think that it’s ok. We frequently talk about the Torah value of caring for and being compassionate towards everyone. As a family, we proactively try to find ways to judge others favorably (even those people who throw stones at passing cars on Shabbos.)

- We invite all manner of religious and secular Jews to join our Shabbos meals each week and the kids are open, happy, and confident to welcome everyone. (No, we're not Chabad.) One of the many reasons for having such guests at our table is to teach the kids this lesson.

- While we would technically be classified as right-wing and we don’t at all buy the modern “Palestinian” narrative, we certainly don’t hate all Arabs, nor do we have any desire to expel them all from the land. We warmly welcome anyone seeking to dwell here with us in peace and we are pained and saddened to see the suffering and loss of lives of all innocent Arab families and children — as would any decent human being.

- Of the few local families I know whose kids no longer identify as religious, none at all chose to disown their kids. The very thought, in such lovingly family-dedicated communities, is hard to imagine. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, I'm just saying it's not as common as it's made out. Rather, these families have tirelessly, profoundly, compassionately committed to maintaining any connection with their children, and to emphasize that, no matter what, family is the most important thing. Because it is.

- We aren't just living our life blindly, dogmatically following empty religious rules; rather, we are frequently engaged with, exploring and discussing Torah's richness, depth and meaning. Our kids honestly love learning Torah, praying and doing mitzvos. They’re visibly excited about Shabbos and festivals. This lifestyle is in no way oppressive or burdensome for them. If you suggested to them it was, they’d laugh and think you were crazy.

- We Hareidim are normal people: we laugh, we cry, we buy too much Ikea furniture, and we struggle with all of life's daily ups and downs, just like the rest of you. Some of our communities are more healthy and balanced, some are less so; some of our people are warmer, nicer and more open, some are more closed, dogmatic and judgmental; some of our leaders are noble and upstanding, and some are quite frankly idiots…JUST LIKE ANY SECULAR NEIGHBORHOOD IN THE WORLD TOO. But having grown up living a secular lifestyle myself, and today being Hareidi-by-choice, I can testify that in these communities there is generally a greater and more tangible sense of well-being, warmth, tranquility, connection and meaning. We love and feel blessed to be living this life and wouldn’t want any other.

If this description of Hareidi life is hard to swallow, be careful not to push back with the often-used defenses like: "Well, you're just an exception to the rule...", "You're just American Hareidim", "You're baalei teshuvah", "Well, I know a bunch of Haredim that aren't like that at all"....because the truth is, while there might be many Hareidim who aren't like what I described above, it's still an accurate description of literally hundreds of thousands of Hareidim in Israel and the US — a decent portion of all Hareidim in the world. Which is my very point — how come you never see this significant Hareidi demographic represented in the media, television series, or the news? How come we mostly see the darkest and most problematic cliches instead?

And finally, if all the facts I've listed above about our communities are hard for you to accept as true, then perhaps the image you have in your head about Hareidim is less based on facts and reality and more based on stereotypes, fear, hate, and discrimination — like any other form of prejudice in the world.

Care to prove me wrong? Well, you're welcome to come argue it out with me and my family at our Shabbos table on Friday night. It would be a joy and honor to have you.

Doniel Katz

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badb1tchbokuto · 3 years

Text

Alone, Together

Miya Atsumu x F! Reader

“Lame.” Typical.

“Self-righteous prick,” Okay that one hurt a little, but fine.

“Your game is weak.” Atsumu would like to think it wasn’t. It was just that he’d never really had to try. Whereas he focused all his efforts and love on the game of volleyball, he never really put in much effort on the dating game. Casual flings, short term relationships, one night stands - he was no stranger to all of this. He was attractive, successful, and had a steady career that allowed him to afford VIP tables in pretentious places like this. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be into that?

You apparently.

...In which Atsumu experiences his first existential crisis after you reject him at a club.

wc: 6k

tw: alcohol consumption, swearing, mild smut, slight angst, lots of fluff

(crossposted on Ao3)

Thursday, 10:00pm JST

Tokyo is alight and alive. The autumn sun is steadily dimming against a sea of ultramodern buildings and bright billboards that are beginning to light the city in incandescent neons. Crowds are meandering through the busy capital, with tourists slowly walking and stopping at every turn to take photos and gaze at their seemingly surreal surroundings, friends chatting vividly as they make their way to dinner, and employees ambling towards the crowded subway stations to line up and finally make their way home or just find some respite.

You, somehow, are a combination of all three.

Twenty four hours ago, you landed in Haneda from Charles de Gaulle. Jet lagged and bleary eyed, you stuttered your way through customs in your broken but passable Japanese, lost a suitcase that had most of your professional attire needed for the next day’s back to back meetings with investors, then had to be comforted by your driver as you explained the situation in distress all the way to your hotel in the business district of Minato.

You couldn’t help but feel unsettled and overwhelmed as it was after all, your first trip to Japan for professional matters. All your other times in the country had been spent with family, past lovers or on study abroad trips with best friends, but this time it was just you.

Adult you, in your first big girl work trip, in your dream field of fashion, in your dream city of Tokyo.

It has almost been twenty fours since you landed in the capital, and you’ve miraculously survived your first day. Barely. Admittedly you slept in a little too late after downing the entire complimentary bottle of Daiginjo from the hotel by yourself the night before, and this morning you spent over thirty minutes trying to transform your jet lagged mug with a “no make up make up” look only to end up still being asked by the sweet door people if you were heading to a special party. The upside is that the sake made you sleep like a baby, and smartly you paired your unexpectedly dramatic make-up with a killer outfit, resulting in you being recharged and sharp throughout the day, impressing your boss and potential investors alike.

Friday, 8:30pm JST

You had just emerged from your hotel to freshen up after a long day of work, now heading to dinner in Shibuya to meet with friends you’ve studied abroad with who were now living in Tokyo. Clad in a slinky Jacquemus silk dress and your favorite stilettos, you stand outside the grand entrance of the Tokyu Plaza, sending your girls a quick text to note that you got there a little earlier than expected, informing them that you’d be waiting at the restaurant’s rooftop bar instead.

The restaurant your friends chose was on the 17th floor of the building, a French fusion restaurant that turns into a nightclub after midnight and promises to have the best rooftop views of the Tokyo skyline. It seemed especially busy tonight, as there was already a line of young men and women eager to wait just to get into the club despite the area not opening hours from now.

Overhearing hushed snippets of conversations around you, it sounded like some celebrities were going to be there tonight. You brush it off, looking forward to having a moment to yourself to sip on an espresso martini, maybe even a few truffle sliders while waiting on your friends to arrive.

Busy thinking about whether you have time to eat one or three of the sliders before dinner, you absentmindedly made your way to the host at the front of the already buzzing line.

Halfway there, you feel a gentle but firm tap on your shoulder.

You turn, only to face a very toned and very broad chest dripping in two thin yellow gold snake chains layered over a printed silk button down, a piece from Gucci’s latest season. “Impressive.. ” you think to yourself as you lift your gaze as slowly and as nonchalantly as you can to see the man’s face, even though your eyes are probably already dilating in anticipation, because if the chest was already impressive and you were already having sinful thoughts about dragging your tongue on his chiseled pecs then moving down, well then...

“Yes?” You reply softly as your eyes roam upwards, starting with his strong jawline, to his warm, sugary brown gaze, up to his soft tousled blonde hair, and back down to his full lips, his canines and pink tongue slightly peeking out, adorned in a confident smirk that both turned you on and pissed you off.

“Fuck. I’d definitely let you ruin my life..or my pussy.” You couldn’t help but immediately think to yourself.

Without introducing himself, he slowly licks his lips, then cooly offers. “You headin’ up to Ce La Vi? My friends and I have a VIP table up there so you won’t have to wait until midnight to be let in. You can skip the line with me.”

“No thanks.” You curtly decline, irritated and offended that he assumed you needed his help to skip the line, let alone afford to enter the establishment for dinner.

You swerve past him, thinking that he’s another sleazy club promoter. Very attractive yes, but you’d like to think you were past making those types of mistakes at this age. Sexy guy leveraging his social status so that he can two pump chump you then ghost you until he needs pretty girls to fill up his club table? Hard pass.

Atsumu on the other hand, is confused.

That simple line never fails; it’s not aggressive but is still quite direct, and it wasn’t creepy. At least he didn’t think so. If anything, he thought he sounded nonchalant and cool.. Almost like Suna...right? Although he’d never let Suna know that he tries to emulate him when trying to pick up girls. Or that he thinks Suna is “nonchalant and cool.” God forbid he gets roasted on the group chat for yet another reason. Also, isn’t it always a great opportunity to skip the line at some overhyped dining club and get wined and dined by a handsome athlete like him? He’s never really had a problem using that line before, in fact his body count was proof of its success rate, so why did it not work on you?

You definitely seemed like you would be impressed by status and flash, considering you literally made his head turn because of your confident strides, wafting a luxuriously sexy scent. A melange of rose, vanilla, maybe the homemade marshmallows Samu makes in the winter... And definitely a tinge of the special perfume he was gifted by the Tom Ford team that he only reserves for special occasions. Something with tobacco and oud. Plus, he also definitely remembers shelling out 300,000¥ to buy the same Dior purse you had on for his ex-girlfriend last Christmas.

You saunter ahead of him, completely ignoring the screams and flash that followed. “Ah..So the celebrity has arrived.” You think to yourself. “They’ll probably be escorted to some special entrance anyway.”

The doorman checks your name on the tablet and leads you to wait in front of an elevator. As you scroll through your phone, waiting for the elevators to take you up to the restaurant, you see him awkwardly standing behind you, rapidly typing away on his phone, very obviously trying to avoid your gaze.

Unlucky for both of you, you two were the only ones cleared by the front desk to go on the elevator.

The ride up to the 17th floor felt like an eternity, a palpable awkward silence marred by elevator music eerily like the Wii theme song dragged the seconds on.

Atsumu couldn’t wait to get out of the cramped space. He wanted so desperately to rush out and find Bokuto, Hinata, or honestly, he’d even practice his abysmal English with Adriah at this point just to get the hell away from you.

It wasn’t that Atsumu found you repulsive, quite the contrary actually. He found you so goddamned sexy, poised with a distinct self-assured stance that he only knew his former high school volleyball captain to have. You were magnetic, like an invisible force just happened to transfix Atsumu’s attention to you when he saw you standing at the plaza, leading him to follow you to the restaurant, thanking his lucky stars that he was also heading the same way since he most definitely kind of looked creepy staring at a lone woman in the middle of the street like that.

The fact that you were immediately repelled by his kind suggestion to skip the line with him boggled him. Feeling claustrophobic in a roomy elevator decorated in mirrors that showed your reflection from all angles, he tries even more desperately to avoid looking at you, so he resorts to giving a play by play to his brother over text, only to get obliterated by Osamu.

“Lame.” Typical.

“Self-righteous prick,” Okay that one hurt a little, but fine.

“Your game is weak.” He’d like to think it wasn’t. It was just that he’d never really had to try. Whereas Atsumu focused all his efforts and love on the game of volleyball, he never really put in much effort on the dating game. Casual flings, short term relationships, one night stands - he was no stranger to all of this. He was attractive, successful, and had a steady career that allowed him to afford VIP tables in pretentious places like this. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be into that?

You apparently.

“Oh well, your loss.” He tries to reason with himself.

As soon as the doors open, Atsumu lets you pass like the gentleman he was raised to be. Okay, maybe he checks you out one last time, because damn that ass... and maybe he also tries to catch a whiff of your intoxicating perfume… but no one had to know that.

He walks away to find his teammates inside the VIP dining area, wanting to just forget about you and move on with his night. You on the other hand, leisurely make your way to the open rooftop bar.

Shortly after, your friends Yuki and Kaori arrive, apologizing for their tardiness and promising a good time as they insist on going out clubbing with some of their friends from high school.

You hadn’t seen the sexy arrogant promoter or his “VIP” group throughout dinner. You forget about him or at least try to, happy to finally munch away on the anticipated dinner, reminisce about your wild college days and catch up with old friends.

Friday, 11:30pm JST

A couple of hours later, inhibitions loose from the free flow of alcohol offered at the restaurant mixed in with a bottle of champagne to celebrate your reunion, the three of you egg each other on to take shots at the bar before checking out the now bustling dance floor, surrounded by the VIP booths inside. Not a minute more after walking indoors do you hear a loud energetic voice holler, “YUKIPPE?!”

“Bokuto-san!!!” Yuki excitedly calls out, dragging you and Kaori over to greet a boisterous, incredibly buff man with two toned spiky hair. Behind him sitting on the plush rounded couches is a small group of young men who are all just as attractive and well-dressed, with an orange haired male capturing most of their attention, spinning an animated tale that had the table howling in raucous laughter.

The only one whose attention was away from the tanned male you heard is called Hinata is the promoter from downstairs, looking directly at you in shock.

“Oh fuck.”

Three buttons on his shirt were now unbuttoned, giving you a more intimate view of his chest. The same, broad, muscled chest you fantasized over earlier. His gaze is unrelenting, and you realize you had also been staring back at him when Kaori waves her hands in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

“Giiiiiirl? Hello?”

You revert your attention back to your group, acting as if you definitely weren’t just thinking about jumping on the blonde’s lap then and there, pulling him into a kiss, grinding on him as you unbutton his shirt and pants in a desperate, heated haze and then...

Kaori interrupts your thoughts with, “This is our friend from high school, Bokuto-san! His boyfriend Akaashi-kun will be joining us later.” Bokuto is beaming down at you with a megawatt smile and pulls you in a bear hug as you move to shake his hand.

Yuki introduces you as their friend from university that just moved to help launch a Japanese edition of a niche French fashion magazine. She adds, “Bokuto is the star ace of his volleyball team, and these are some of his teammates from the MSBY Black Jackals.”

At this, Bokuto bellows a “ HEY HEY HEY!” that garners the attention of his teammates and onlookers alike.

His teammates warmly welcome you and the girls to their table, as if you’re all old friends simply catching up. Comfortable, you engage Hinata and Meian in a lively conversation about your common experiences while traveling in Brazil. From your shared love of pao de queijo, debating where the best feijoada can be found in Rio, all the way to sharing the wild scenes you’ve all seen in Ipanema's legendary posto 8, banter flowing easily.

You were having a great time, happy to make new friends.

Atsumu had been stealthily watching you throughout the introductions. You acted as if it was the first time you’ve met him, then gracefully jumped into a discussion with his captain and newest teammate as if you were all best friends, when in fact for the last two weeks since Shoyo had joined the team, he’d nervously run to the bathroom every time Meian tried to talk to him for longer than five minutes. Now here he is, laughing with you and the captain about your shared culture shock in realizing how comfortable Brazilians were with skinship.

Atsumu met you less than three hours ago, but every little detail he picks up about you fascinates him more and more. There wasn’t a single thing about you that he didn’t like so far, leaving him intrigued, pining to get to know more. Except for one little big thing.. you flat out rejected him, so now he’s actively avoiding you out of respect for the boundaries you set initially.

Still, he was riveted. He wanted to get to know you one way or another, even if it was trying to casually listen in on your conversations with his teammates.

“What a creep.” Sakusa interrupts his thoughts, rolling his eyes at Atsumu.

Bokuto leans in and attempts to whisper in a hushed tone, in an octave that was definitely too loud to be a whisper, “She’s super cute Tsumtsum! Go for it!”

“Just talk to her, you’ve been staring at her the entire time. It’s starting to get weird.” Sakusa adds.

For arguably the first time in his adult life, Atsumu is insecure.

How does he approach you for the second time? He doesn’t even know what to talk to you about. Here you were, casually conversing about your world travels when he’d never even left Japan except for international matches. You, decked out in designer items he’d gifted different ex-girlfriends as apologies or appeasements for every time he prioritized volleyball over them. You, who were already chummy with his teammates even though it took him months to warm up to them. For fuck’s sake, sometimes his jokes still fall flat, but here you are cracking jokes and making even Omi chuckle. Who the hell are you? And how can Atsumu get to know you? Does he want to be like you or be inside you? How does he even get your attention without seeming like a desperate jerk? Why the fuck does he care what some random girl thinks of him?

He never really cared about what others thought of him outside of volleyball, but when he can’t rely on his one true love to speak for him, who is he and what does he have to offer?

Having an existential crisis at an ostentatious club at midnight was definitely not something Atsumu wanted to do. Yet here he is, feeling as dejected as the day he wore the Jackasuke costume and slipped in public for the whole world to see.

Swirling the melting ball of ice on his crystal glass filled with Yamazaki 18, he didn't notice that you had moved closer to him.

“They say whiskey is a depressant. Is that why you look so sad?” You joke, then gesture to his drink with a small smile.

Atsumu lifts his head to look at you, then freezes upon realizing your close proximity. He counters, “Really? What should I have for a good time then?”

“Me.” You cheekily reply and wink at him.

He grins at you, confidence steadily regaining at realizing that he might have a chance with you after all.

Saturday, 12:00am JST

Pouring a newly opened bottle of Ace of Spades on two champagne flutes laid out on the table, you make amends.

“Sorry for being so rude earlier. I get really defensive when I’m randomly approached by men, especially because I thought you were a promoter looking to get girls to join your table… I didn’t know I had mutual friends with some hotshot athlete.” You smile awkwardly.

He laughs and jokes back, but there is definitely some weight to his sentiment.

“Ah, but since Imma hotshot athlete, s’all good now right?”

You replace the whiskey glass in his hands with a champagne flute and shoot back. “Nah, I really thought you were trying to pimp me out to your flashy friends who bought tables from you, or worse, that you were just trying to get a quick fuck.”

Atsumu chokes on his own spit at your frank reply, and you giggle before lowering your voice so only he could hear.

You counter, “For the record, I would have been down for the latter, except you didn’t even introduce yourself. You should also know that I don’t ever need your help to get places.”

You smile innocently at him as if you didn’t just confirm that you were down to fuck if only he had played his cards right. His mind fogs, instantly imagining dragging you to the nearest bathroom to fuck you silly. He thinks about what it would feel like to sloppily kiss your full lips, moving his hands from your hair down to your neck and shoulders, feeling the curves of your body graciously skimming the silk fabric of your dress, only to unwrap you like a prized gift and worship you with his tongue.

You clear your throat, well aware that Atsumu’s most likely imagining fucking you given his glazed over eyes and parted lips.

With a blush, he tries to cover his reddening cheeks and neck by downing his drink. He bounces back with a, “Well then. The name’s Atsumu, 23 years old, professional volleyball player - the best damned setter the MSBY Black Jackals and the Japanese National Team has ever seen.”

Atsumu realizes then that he never really had to introduce himself. Not seriously anyway. Most people around him already knew who he was; his teammates, coaches, players within the league, aspiring volleyball players, fans of the game, fans of his.. even people around him who didn’t have interest in volleyball just generally knew of his reputation as one of Japan’s most talented athletes and eligible bachelors.

How does he tell you about himself without pulling out his phone to show you his current stats or videos of his top sets as proof that he really is as good as he says? Without looking like an ass? Even worse, what does he tell you about himself without volleyball being the main subject?

You smile, intrigued at how he suddenly seemed so sure of himself while talking about volleyball, emitting pride and passion as he describes his profession.

So you continue to ask him about the sport. Atsumu visibly relaxes, his love for the game evident as he discusses their most recent friendly match, the reason why their Osaka based team is in the capital just before some of them start training for the Olympics. The other boys jump in and out of the conversation, with Yuki and Kaori clarifying certain terms to you when they see you furrow your brows in confusion.

As the alcohol keeps flowing and the conversation moves to the upcoming Olympics, you and Atsumu have veered off the multiple group conversations and are transfixed on each other.

He asks you what you’re doing in Tokyo and how you ended up there, so you tell him you graduated from university recently, originally intending to become a Doctor but decided to pause and move to Paris upon graduation, wherein between random side hustles you somehow landed a job in editorial fashion. Thus landing you in Tokyo on an extended work trip.

Atsumu is bewildered at how you could switch careers so easily and still succeed, that you have multiple passions and follow them according to your whims.

He couldn’t imagine living a life like yours, volleyball being the only thing he’s actively pursued since realizing he had to make a living somehow. He wonders whether he chose volleyball as a career because it was the only thing he was good at and the only thing he could think of when his high school teacher asked him about his options for the future.

Deep down he knows that he loves the sport more than anything else, the driving force and principle behind his very essence. Still he can’t help but wonder, what if he chose do something else? What if he found a different passion to pursue? Would he have made a good doctor? Lawyer? Entrepreneur and chef like Samu? He shudders, lost for answers. He settles his raging thoughts by simply asking, “How could you switch careers so easily?”

You pause to think for a while, then casually respond.

“People are multi-faceted. I think there’s different versions to us as we navigate life. We fall in and out of love with different people, hobbies, places, food, aesthetics... There are just so many variables, so many moving parts as we get older.. Who’s to decide that we have to be tied to the same job or pursue the same passion for the rest of our lives?”

This confuses him even more, and he decides that despite you having the same self-assured aura that Kita-san has, you’re the complete opposite of him, different from everyone around him actually. Him, his brother, his friends, his exes, all of whom either have a clear direction or some semblance of goals and dreams for the future.

You on the other hand, are all risk. You boldly trek into the unknown, unafraid and ready to face the variables and twist them so that they fall to your favor. Atsumu supposes that in this way, he relates to you.

He replies, “Huh. Weird but I guess I kinda get it. It’s like when I’m on court observing opponents. I have to sniff out and adapt to whatever bullshit they’re on, tweak our plays and my settin’ style to make sure we crush them. Sorta like a gamble.”

“Exactly.” You confirm.

“Eh..but nothing feels better than winnin’. How do you even know if you’re winning when you don’t have set objectives?” Atsumu counters.

You playfully roll your eyes at him.

“I do! My objectives are just adjusted to my current surroundings. I’d say pondering over the inherent philosophical value of career choices in a rooftop bar in Tokyo with a sexy volleyball setter is winning.”

“Touché.”

He grins, aiming to pour more champagne to your flutes before realizing that you two polished off the bottle of Ace on the table and that your friends were all in various states of inebriation.

Yuki dancing with her boyfriend, Kaori grinding on Adriah, Bokuto and Hinata on the dance floor twerking on the older MSBY members to Reggaeton, Sakusa and Akaashi watching all of this in amused horror.

“Wanna dance?” Atsumu asks.

After topping your glasses with overpriced bottle service liquor, you move towards the dance floor at the center of the club, joining your friends.

You’re shocked at how well Atsumu can dance, easily gripping your hips and moving with you as you gyrate against him to 90s hip hop jams. Hinata finds you both and proceeds to dance on you, laughing as you twirl him and sandwich him between you and Atsumu.

After a couple more songs, you, Bokuto, and the girls end up dancing on top of a random table screaming the lyrics to the newest Megan Thee Stallion song.

Yuki somehow proceeds to wrangle you all back to your table to take shot after shot, fueling the night to go on.

Saturday, 3:00am JST

Your group stumbles out of the rooftop bar, with the married MSBY members calling it a night. Bokuto on the other hand, is already ordering an Uber Lux to take you all from Shibuya to an even more upscale club in Minato, on the other end of Tokyo for a good nightcap.

Atsumu holds your hand as you enter the club, the most he’s gotten to touch you since dancing with you earlier.

Your group downs more bottles of champagne and vodka, all dancing on each other at your table.

Emboldened by the alcohol in your system, you pop your ass a little more against Atsumu’s crotch, swaying more seductively to a random top forty hit. Feeling him hardening against his fitted trousers, you turn to face him, skimming your fingers on his chains and chest as you continue to dance. In turn he runs his hands up and down your sides, moving more liberally to each drop of the beat, grazing up the underside of your breasts and back down to cup the curve of your ass. His hands feel warm on your body, steadily stoking a growing fire in you.

You gaze up at Atsumu, tilting your head to lightly graze your lips against his neck, trailing upwards towards his ear, effectively sending shivers down his spine. You whisper, “Would you consider this winning, hotshot?” licking the shell of his ear, resulting in Atsumu groaning lowly as you move your head to look back at him.

With hazy eyes, Atsumu looks at you, then whispers, “Winning would be when I’ve made you come with my mouth so many times you’re beggin’ me to fuck you.. but until then pretty girl, this is pretty close.”

You pussy throbs as his lips brush against your skin with every whisper, but before you can even respond, Atsumu kisses you.

His soft lips press on yours, capturing your lower lip in a soft bite that elicits pleasure that starts in your belly then moves down south. His hands continue to move up and down your sides, now more possessive in grabbing your ass to bring you closer to him.

You teasingly lick his parted lips, prompting Atsumu to dance his tongue against yours.

Lost in open mouthed kisses that have you both desperately groping each other’s clothed bodies on the dance floor, you feel Atsumu brush his knuckle over your breasts, motions languid and repeating as your nipples arouse and become visible through your silk dress.

Your entire body is overheating. You moan against his mouth.

He whispers, “Wanna take this somewhere more private?” You nod immediately, then rush to tell your friends you’d catch up with them over brunch tomorrow.

Atsumu is waiting by the exit, but as soon as he sees you, he is so turned on he can’t help but sear you into another heated kiss, leaving you both weak and wanting.

Saturday, 4:30am JST

Miraculously, the nearest Uber is 25 minutes away and the cabs are far and few. Atsumu starts to dial a private car service, but then notices you wandering down the street.

“Oi!! Where you goin’?” He calls out.

You pout. “I’m hungry.”

Atsumu offers to order you room service at his hotel but you decline, taking his calloused but surprisingly moisturized hand as you skip down a tiny alley way towards a conbini.

Inside, you fill your basket to the brim with an assortment of junk food. Chips, instant ramen, sandwiches, daifuku mochi, fried chicken poppers, and every other snack you find with cute packaging before finally leading you to the end of an aisle, choosing between which types of onigiri to purchase.

Atsumu goes along with you, advising you which brands to get, which to avoid, even putting his favorites in the basket. Although he knows his trainer will punish him with brutal training sessions if he sees the shit he’s about to put on his body, he thinks it’s all worth it. He knows he’ll feel guilty come morning, spending hours at the gym to burn it all off, but right now he couldn’t care less. Not after seeing you starry eyed at how many options of onigiri there are, and how absolutely adorable you look when asking him about which snacks he thinks could fit in your purse to save for later.

Trying to impress you, Atsumu comments. “Y’know, I make a mean tuna onigiri.”

No he doesn’t. His brother does, but you don’t know that. Not yet at least.

“Oh yeah? Want to make me some one of these days?” You respond.

Securing a date with you before the night even ends? Hell yeah.

Atsumu thanks his lucky stars, confidently confirming. “Sure, how does tomorrow evening sound?”

“Baby, our night hasn’t even ended and you’re booking me for tomorrow already. Are you trying to cuff me?”

“Yes. Then wife you.” But Atsumu holds his tongue for once.

Instead he winks at you, responding with a casual “Only if you want me to” with a wide, cheeky, canine bearing smile.

Laughing, you roll your eyes at him as he swoops in to carry your basket and insists on paying for your drunken munchies haul.

Saturday, 5:15am JST

Somehow you and Atsumu end up sitting on a park bench, sharing the food he bought from the conbini. Like two excitable school children on a field trip, you trade half bitten snacks with each other while talking about everything and nothing in between.

He tells you about his twin brother Osamu, who he insists is definitely uglier and the bummy version of him; how they did everything together up until Samu decided to open up his own restaurant and stay in their hometown of Hyogo instead of playing professional volleyball like him.

Atsumu tells you all about their childhood, from catching bugs to keep as pets and sneaking them to their room only to hear their ma screaming about it in the middle of the night, to how he always took from Samu’s secret snack stash, always denied doing so when confronted, but always paid him back with interest by secretly dropping a chunk of his monthly allowance on Samu’s piggy bank. The same one that Samu would later break open to help fund the opening of his restaurant. All the petty fights that turned into brawls, only to act like nothing happened despite being covered in scratches as soon as their tired mom walked through the door after a long day of work. He talks about his twin in such an easygoing manner, love overflowing in his voice and reminiscent of when he was speaking about volleyball, but this time there’s a twinge of wistfulness and melancholy to his tone.

“You miss him.” You softly conclude.

“That idiot? Nah.”

“It’s okay. I won’t hold it against you for blackmail.” You tease.

Atsumu concedes. “Okay maybe a little.”

Loose lipped from the alcohol still flowing in his veins, he continues.

“Samu and I have always been together. Startin’ at the womb for fuck’s sake, fightin’ each other over stupid shit, getting our asses kicked by our ma, sharin’ a room, spewing random thoughts to each other only the two of us would understand, goin’ to the same school, on the same volleyball teams, with the same friends, or rather him havin’ friends that ended up adoptin’ me to their group.”

He chuckles. “I think I took it all for granted, havin’ someone there always with me.. Even if he always got on my ass for the littlest things and it used to always piss me off. Deep down I knew he was always just lookin’ out for me, just didn’t know how ta’ show it. I mean, I didn’t either.”

He laughs because he knows he still doesn’t know how. “It’s almost been four years since I moved away from home and...”

He doesn’t finish the sentiment, but he doesn’t have to.

Atsumu is alone, and although he loves to brag to Osamu and their friends about the freedom having his own space brings, he knows he’s also so fucking lonely.

You finish his thought for him by empathizing. “I get it. I mean, kind of. I don’t have a twin so I can only imagine, but I’ve been living on my own for quite some time now, in between countries with parents who don’t support my career change and friends always in different places than where I am. It’s isolating. But hey, that’s why we put ourselves out there right? Why you acted like a sleazy promoter in front of the club and why I acted like a stone cold bitch earlier only to come at you? Our lame attempts at easing loneliness in hopes that one day, someone might finally understand... or just be there to try.”

You chuckle half-heartedly, nudging his shoulders to try and ease the somber tension.

He turns to look at you, smiling up at him, listening and just trying to understand. He can’t help himself. He pulls you into a sweet kiss that tastes of strawberry daifuku and expensive champagne.

Atsumu knows that you’ll never understand what it’s like to have a twin, to live a life away from them, to suddenly pursue a passion you thought was shared only to have to do it all on your own.. He thinks it’s amazing that you’re even listening to him rant about his nostalgia, even when he knows his thoughts seem incoherent, even when he currently doesn’t even know how to define himself.

In a dimly lit park in Azabu, you and Atsumu find solace in each other’s solitude.

He doesn’t know how he managed to basically word vomit to a stranger issues he finds too embarrassing to even mention to his brother, yet here he is. He doesn’t even know why barely two hours ago you were feeling each other up at a club, about to go back to his hotel room and drunkenly fuck, but now here you were at a park in the middle of a ritzy neighborhood in Tokyo, sharing snacks, stories and innocent kisses.

Talking to you, kissing you, hell even drunkenly shopping for food with you felt like second nature to him, as if you had been with him all along and this was just part of you two’s routine. Atsumu doesn’t know why though, since you couldn’t be more different from him.

You, who finds sparks of interest then bravely torches it aflame, letting it change your life as you go along. Then there’s him, lucky to have found his passion early on, pursuing it steadfastly since then, letting it consume and define him.

Perhaps it was the fact that you found each other incredibly attractive and you both were just looking for some sort of release, sexual or not.

Or honestly, maybe it’s the shared loneliness of being newly minted adults, trying to navigate life on your own without the familiar crutches only youth affords.

Whatever it is, Atsumu finds himself even more drawn to you.

“Being alone, if it’s together with you, isn’t so bad after all,” he thinks.

He watches you as you look up to observe the night sky rapidly fading to make room for the soft pastels of dawn, a soft smile painting your pretty lips. He doesn’t realize he mirrors your smile as soon as he sees it.

At 23, Atsumu doesn’t know the answers to a lot of things. He knows now that you don’t either, but he definitely knows then that he wants you to be there with him as you both figure it all out.

Saturday, 3:45pm JST

“I need a favor Samu. I need to make dinner to pair with onigiri. Oh wait, actually I also need to make onigiri. Tuna scallion.”

“You? Cookin? What?”

“It’s for this girl...”

“A girl agreed to let you cook for her? Is she sane? Conscious? Did you force her?”

“Fuck off!”

“Bet.”

Osamu hangs up.

Atsumu panics and calls him back immediately.

“Fuck I’m sorry!! I’m sorry! I… mighthavetoldherIcookwelltoimpressher.”

“Ah so you’re posin’ as me. I knew I was the superior twin.”

“You wish!! But please... I really like her. It’s the girl from yesterday.”

In all 23 years of being Atsumu’s brother, Osamu had never heard of Atsumu wanting to impress a girl by actually doing something for her. Buying them all the shit they could want, taking them out to eat wherever they want, sure. But actively taking time out of his day, time that could’ve been spent training, to do something for someone else, not even sure if the end result might pay off?

This was new.

Knowing Tsumu’s lack of patience and short attention span, the food will be barely edible. He knows Tsumu expects this to happen already; so he’s intrigued that his brother really insists on trying.

He’s always known Atsumu to be a gambler on court. Off court, he takes the safe routes. So for him to suddenly take a gamble like this, you must have been pretty damn special.

“Alright, scrub. I’ll send you the ingredients list. Facetime me when you’re back in the kitchen.”

- - -

Notes: The places noted in the story are based on real locations in Tokyo. See below if you’d like to imagine more vividly where you and Atsumu’s adventures took place. :)

Locations used:

1. Rooftop bar/restaurant - Ce la Vi, Shibuya

2. 3am club - 1Oak, Minato

3. Conbini - Lawson's (any one of them in Azabu)

4. Park - Mamiana Park, Azabu

#atsumu x you #atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x you #haikyuu timestamps #atsumu x reader #e.writes

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Californian Dream (Pt. 02 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (01)

Next part (03) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Open Book

You're checking your hair for the third time on the huge mirror in the main hall. The lilac dress fits you perfectly, of course, since your mother wouldn't allow you to buy anything that didn't look marvelous. Your hair, Amelia's doing, it pinned up on a high bun, a few strands allowed to be free, only to frame your face. But you can't wait to let it all down, to strip out of the dress and put on some normal clothes. The night would be doomed if it wasn't for Billy. Since the almost drowning incident, your father is very thankful, and he's even giving Billy generous tips. And you've been going out of your way to talk to him, offering help, even though he always refuses. And Michael is only allowed here on formal occasions when your father and his have business to discuss, so it means you haven't seen him in the last couple of days.

The bell ring drags you out of your thoughts, and you immediately get nervous. Taking a look at the clock, you notice he's right on time. Rushing to the front door, as fast as your high heels allow, you gesture for the butler to leave it to you, and he nods and walks away. Taking a deep breath, you pull the door open, and a smile comes to your lips straight away. Billy looks amazing, and in this suit, people will be talking for a very different reason. He'll get many stares, you're sure of it. He won't look misplaced, he'll be the center of all attentions.

“You... Clean up real nice.” As you stutter, you notice as he quickly runs his eyes through your body, making you blush.

“You too.” He says with a smile, before tilting his head towards the car. “Should we get going? I'm sure you'd hate to be late.”

“Oh, no. God forbid.” You say, sarcastically, making your way to his car. And what a car. A dark bluish Camaro, if you're not mistaken, which you think suits him perfectly. “Hey, what a machine, huh?” You exclaim as you get into the passenger seat. Billy walks around the car before settling down beside you.

“I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you may drive.” Giving you a glance and a small smile, he speeds away, through the rocky path that leads to the gates.

“Well, my pink Cadillac is not as badass as this baby here.”

“A pink Cadillac? That's girly.”

“I'm a girl if you haven't noticed.” He slows down at the gates, and you kindly waves at the security guard as you move to hit the street.

“I noticed, don't worry.” His Camaro makes a wild noise when he speeds up, flying through the road, so you decide to buckle up.

“Good.” Why does it makes you happy you know he noticed you're a girl? “So, what's her name?” You ask, gesturing at the car when Billy gives you a confused glance.

“She doesn't have one.” Chuckling, he turns his attention back at the road ahead. “But you're right, she should have a name.”

“What are the chances you'll let me chose it?” Moving on your seat a little to turn your body towards him, you bite your lip to see his smile.

“Only if you come up with something really good.”

“Lily.” You burst out.

“Absolutely not.”

“But is my favorite flower and it's beautiful.” Defending yourself, you can't keep the smile from your face.

Billy furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head lightly. “Nope. No way. You're not naming my car Lily.”

Since he seems very focused on the road, you get the chance to look at him. Your eyes run through his face, his cheeks, jawline, lips. His eyes, that you concluded, are the same color as the ocean. You wish you had a good excuse to look at them, just for a while. “Not even if I say please?”

“Not even if you make puppy eyes.”

With a dramatic eye roll, you decide to give up on the matter, for now at least. Half an hour later, you finally get to the hotel where the gala will happen. You advise Billy to park his car three blocks away since it'll be a lot easier to leave after the party is over. Then, you leave the car and walk the rest of the way. The hotel entrance is already crowded, and you know at least half of all these people, but so far, you haven't spotted any of your friends.

“Can I hold your arm? Just because that's how the dates walk around in these things.” Shyly, you ask as you climb up the stairs to the main hall.

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” Muttering, you take his arm, now already at the entrance. The two men by the door give you a nod, gesturing for you to get inside. People know you, there's no need to ask for an invitation. The hotel's hall is beautifully decorated, with tiny white and yellowish lights scattered through the walls, and then hanging, coming all together on the chandelier. You can't deny it looks amazing, but still, you'd rather be somewhere else. “So... That's how it happens.” You start, walking around with Billy. “We find our table, and on the way, we make sure to spot and greet some people. The goal is to make your presence known. Then, since it's a beneficial gala, I'll have to make a donation.” Shrugging your shoulders, you wave at one of your mother's friends. “Then we go to our table and endure the rest.”

“No dancing?” He asks, after a small pause you make to greet Mr. and Mrs. Whayland, and thankfully, not James.

“I don't dance on these things, but...” Letting go of his arm for a moment, you turn around until you facing him, slowly walking backwards. “I will if you let me name your car Lily.”

“No dancing then.” He simply says with a smirk. “Quit it. You won't–” Billy suddenly grabs your arms, pulling you to the side. When you look behind you, you notice you almost hit one of the waiters, his tray full of vol-au-vents. “Careful.”

“Oh, my gosh. Sorry.” Giggling and a little embarrassed, you give the young man an apologetic look. “Let me get these.” Reaching out your hand, you take two pieces, handing one over to Billy. “Try this.”

“What is that?”

“Vol-au-vents. Some French thing. It's a pastry with some kind of sauce. It's good.” Carefully not to drop any sauce on your dress, you give the small thing a bite, gesturing for Billy to do the same, eyes focused on his face as he eats. “So?”

“I like pizza better.” He concludes and you nod.

“You're definitely the best date I could find.” Taking his arm again, you pull him to the table where most of the food is placed. There are waiters here too, making sure it's always be full. “Now, chose something.”

You take a quick glance at his face as he thinks. You're happy he doesn't seem so out of place here, or at least he doesn't let it show. “Shrimp cocktails.” He says. “Are they as good as they look or will I be disappointed?”

“I wouldn't know. I'm allergic to shrimp so if you're planning to kill me, that's the fastest way to do it.” Halfway through your sentence, Billy stops on his tracks, his hand now just hovering over the shrimps. “But you can eat them. Just... For real, don't touch me with that hand.”

“Let's not risk it then.”

“Alright.” Blushing, you clear your throat. You did hear some stories about Billy, mostly from your friends, trying to talk you out of coming with him. Billy has a way with women, never really going out with the same more than a couple of times. He's up late partying, punching people in the face when they get on his nerves, stuff like that. But he's being very nice with you today and was kind enough to make this hell of a huge favor. You don't care what he does in his free time, he's a nice guy. “This over here.”

“Brandy snaps.” You say, taking one for yourself. “I love this.” Some of the chocolate gets on your thumb as you eat, so you suck it clean, a gesture that makes some people around give you a disapproving stare. Flustered, you turn back at the table.

“Everything alright?”

“Yup. Come, I want to make a donation and sit down.” The incident makes you a little upset. These rules, as stupid as they may be, are meant to be followed, mostly on an event like this. Not even silly accidents as getting some chocolate cream on your thumb are acceptable. When you get to the table, you ignore the line of people behind it, taking one of the paychecks and a pen, you start writing down. “Last time, I donated fifty cents. As a joke, you know. People only do this to show off how much money they can afford to give away.” You tell Billy as you sign down your name. “My mother gave me a hell of a lecture.”

“So how much will you donate now?” He asks, coming a little closer to read what you're writing.

“Twenty.”

“Twenty dollars?”

“Twenty thousand.” You say as you put down the value, sliding it into the rectangular glass box. When you move to take Billy's arm again, he has his eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Nothing. It's just a lot of money.”

Not really, but you won't tell him that. “At least it'll buy something someone needs. Our table is by the windows, thank God.” You exclaim once you finally read your name on a piece of paper attached to the centerpiece of the table. Pulling Billy with you, you take a seat, your eyes immediately finding the beach, just across the street. “We can see the beach from here. A total win.”

“(Y/N)?” Your father calls, and you abandon the ocean for a while, finding him standing beside your mother.

“Hi, dad. Mom. How's the organization of–”

“Is he your companion for the gala?” He cuts you off, exchanging a glance with Billy. You knew they'd be mad, but something just clicks inside you. Through the corner of your eyes, you see Billy immediately looks away, at the beach.

“Yes, father.”

“Didn't you had other guys to–” He's interrupted by an announcement, his and your mother's being called alongside several other people. “We'll discuss this later.” And he leaves, your mother only giving you a hard stare.

“I bet it won't be pretty when you get home,” Billy speaks, still looking through the window. “They might even ask for someone else to attend to your pool.”

“Well, if it wasn't you working that day, I could've drowned so... I'll make sure to remind them of that.” Then, everybody stands up. You, taking the chance, walk closer to the window, arms crossed, forcing your eyes to find where the horizon is, now mixed with the dark sky. Soon, Billy joins you, eyes on the landscape. “Sorry about that. I swear I don't understand why is such a big deal.” You do get it's because he's just the pool guy, an employee, but still, it's stupid. Why can't he be your date? Would your father rather Michael, who almost got you killed, came with you? “I... I'm having a good time with you. This would suck a lot more if I were with some of those idiots.”

“Don't worry about me. I'm used to it.”

“You shouldn't be.” Turning around, you rest your back against the glass, gesturing at the party in general. “Do you know why people make such exaggerated donations? Because the five highest paychecks will be announced, so everyone will know. And you think people will find that selfless and generous? No. They'll start counting, calculating how much those people actually have on the bank to afford to spend so much.” There's a mocking tone on your voice, and you struggle to keep it down. “This isn't about helping those in need, is about social status.”

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Billy suddenly says, and the idea is so absurd it makes you chuckle, looking at him.

“What?” Looking around, you shake your head. “I can't... I can't just leave.”

“Why not?” He shrugs his shoulders. “You donated, your parents already know you came, and some woman gave you a death stare just because you sucked some chocolate off your thumb. You achieved all your goals for the night.”

Tilting your head to the side and looking at the floor, you consider it. The night is far from over, and the thought of having to sit here for hours is horrible. And the possibility of leaving thos place makes your heart beat faster. “Where?”

“There.” When you look up at him again, he's gesturing at the beach.

Slowly, a smile comes to your lips. Quickly scanning through the people, you notice they're quite focused on the host, who's still speaking. “Alright, let's go. But we gotta be careful.”

“We will. C'mon.” Billy grabs your hand, moving through the tables, but remaining near the wall. As you keep his pace, you're on high alert, checking if anyone is looking your way. It feels like it takes forever for you to reach the entrance, only half open, but when you do, you're relieved to notice those two men aren't here.

“We're out!” You burst out, quite loudly, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. Quickly, you rush downstairs, walking around the huge fountain and right into the sidewalk. You make a small pause, waiting for some cars to pass by before crossing. You can't stop smiling when you reach the other side. That's when you notice you're still holding his hand, so you let go, looking away. “I can't believe we're doing this.”

“It's not a bid deal.”

“It is for me.” Using his shoulder to balance yourself, you take your high heels off before stepping on the sand. “I never did anything like this.” Feeling the sand under your feet is amazing. This night just got so much better. “You're the best date I could ever find and that's final.” Turning on your heels, you find Billy coming your way, also barefoot.

“A lot of people would disagree.”

“I don't see anyone else here, so their opinion doesn't matter.” Reaching out to your bun, you pull all the pins, letting your hair down and dramatically shaking your head, until the strands fall all over your face. “This feels like freedom.” You giggle, taking a deep breath, aware of how stupid it may sound.

“I don't understand you.” He says, and you open your eyes again, looking at him. Billy walks by, and you quickly move to follow his pacenalong the beach.

“What don't you understand?”

“I met a lot of chicks like you. Rich, wearing rings more expansive than my car, with easy access to anything money can buy and they're happy.” Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, you glance at Billy. His shirt is half unbuttoned under the suit, giving you a glimpse of his chest, and that makes you blush and look ahead again. “But you don't sound happy.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you breathe out, not sure how to answer to that. “I know you probably think I'm just some spoiled rich kid with rich kid's problems who has everything yet wants more–”

“I know people who are just like that.” Billy makes a pause, and you give some more steps before turning around to look at him. “You're not one of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“You're the only boss I ever had who offers help.” As he speaks, a small ripple reaches your feet, and you jump a little before giggling and walking into the water until it reaches your calves, soaking your skirt. “You'll ruin your dress.”

“Mother won't let me wear it again since everyone already saw it so...”

“So... You always do what's expected of you.”

“I'm an open book to you, am I not?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder how did he got there so fast. People don't notice it. You're always in perfect disguise.

“I just know where to look, I guess.”

“Well, I do what's expected of me, yes.” Walking out of the water, you feel the skirts of the dress getting attached to your legs, but you don't mind. “I gave up trying to argue with my parents a long time ago so I just... Follow the rules. One day after the other.” This is sad, you know it. Just mentioning it sucks. Being part of the high society is a privilege, or so they say. But you? You don't have a choice. “The good part is that it's Summer and there's no college. The bad part is that there are some stupid events to attend to, like that gala.”

“I know some people who would kill to be invited for something like that.” Billy tilts his head to where the hotel is.

“If you were somehow enjoying that we can go back.” By the look he gives you, it's quite obvious he wasn't, so you smile, walking closer to him, and pretending to pin your hair up again. “I can just fix this and we can go.”

“That's not my kind of party, don't bother.” He takes both your hands, pulling them away from your hair, causing it to cascade down again.

“And what's your kind of party?”

“You wouldn't like it.”

“Try me. You will never know if you don't take me to one.” The moment you say it, you understand what you meant, and the smile fades from your lips as you both resume your walking. Billy wouldn't take you anywhere else, not somewhere where his friends would see him with you, some wealthy, stupid girl. And your parents would never approve you going somewhere... Different. Somewhere not filled with millionaires. “Nevermind.” You're quick to add. “I throw my own parties. Just blasting music in my bedroom and dancing with myself.”

“So that's where that music comes from.” He chuckles, and you playfully elbow him. “Maybe someday. If your father doesn't kick me out of your property, we might see a little of each other every once in a while.”

“Yeah. You could let me rake some leaves at least, I'm sure I can–” A loud, deafening explosion cuts you short, and you cover both your ears out of instinct. When the impact is over, you turn around, easily finding where the dark smoke and flames are coming from. The hotel. “What the hell.” You're still speaking when a dozen black vans come into your sight, all heading to the hotel. Seconds later, the shootings begin.

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @alwaysadreamingoptimist

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

adsentio

a/n: for some reason, i got the idea of prince!akaashi stuck in my head. mildly inspired by the swan princess.

wc: ~2.1k

genre: arranged marriage!au, royalty!au, emerging feelings. fluff mainly? idek, it’s word vomit

royalty!au: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt. 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

Prince Akaashi likes to believe he’s a smart cookie, even if he’s only seven. Then again, his parents aren’t exactly the most subtle people on the planet, and he believes it’s quite obvious as to what they’re planning. In fact, not only is he aware, but the whole castle is as well. Hell, even 90% of the citizens in the kingdom are fully aware of what’s to be expected. He strongly dislikes it, and he wishes it didn’t loom over him every summer.

Ever since the summer of the year he turned five, Princess (y/n) of the West Kingdom would show up for two months to make his life miserable. To be fair, it wasn’t exactly your fault, as you were very much forced into this arrangement as he was, but it was easier to blame you. He’d rather just play fight with Bokuto all summer rather than try to include a girl. It’s not because you’re capable of kicking his butt.

That is absolutely not the case here.

His mother, the queen, is scrambling to get all the preparations done in time for (y/n)’s arrival. Akaashi almost rolls his eyes when he spots her rearranging a bouquet of roses in the dining hall. Unfortunately, she spots him from the corner of her eye and beckons him over with a frantic hand. Never one to deny a parent, he quickly jogs over to her.

“Oh darling, would you be a doll and check in on your father? He needs to be dressed properly for the West Kingdom’s arrival. Tell him to wear that cyan blue shirt of his, it’s much more flattering.”

“Do we need to be so overboard like this again? They’ve already been here twice, it’s not like they don’t know us.”

“For reasons you don’t know, they’re extra special to us. Aren’t you excited to see (y/n) again? You two got along so well last summer!”

Akaashi wrinkles his nose in distaste. “It feels like I just saw her yesterday. Bokuto and I just wanna play by ourselves.”

“Nonsense, dear. Now go check on your father, please,” His mother implores before scurrying off to another bouquet of flowers.

It’s so obvious, he thinks to himself as he jogs towards his parents’ chambers. Did they really need this alliance with the West Kingdom? Would they be that much more powerful together? “In due time, you’ll understand,” his parents always said. Akaashi was starting to become tired of hearing those words.

Why is it so hard to just tell him now as to why they want him to marry Princess (y/n)?

“You know why I’m here, right?” (Y/n) asks him one evening. They’re sixteen now – Akaashi counts that this is your twelfth time at the castle. You call the castle your second home, as he once heard you tell your assigned handmaiden, the same lady who attends to you every summer. Somehow, the statement strikes a chord within him – his initial childish annoyance at your presence had long disappeared and been replaced with something akin to defeat. There was very little chance that they could run from this, but in the late nights, Akaashi found himself believing that if there were someone to be betrothed to, (y/n) wasn’t so bad.

“What do you mean?” He replies, slowly turning a page in his book. You both found that one way to quickly pass the time was to raid the royal library. At first, it was custom to read your respective books at opposite ends of the castle. Yet as time passed, you found yourselves meeting closer and closer towards the middle. If desired, the servants could find you two either together in the library, in an empty ballroom by the massive windows, or on the balcony in the summer sun. Most times, Bokuto, Akaashi’s most loyal friend, was with you as well. Reading wasn’t necessarily one of his top hobbies, but he’d rather be with friends than alone wondering around the castle.

This time, the two of you have taken refuge by a fireplace, a terrible thunderstorm casting a chill over the building. Bokuto is conveniently off doing his own thing.

“The reason why I’m here every summer.”

Akaashi casts his best exasperated look towards you, but it goes unnoticed as you refuse to look away from your book. “I’ve known since I was six.”

You sigh and gently shut your novel closed, one finger stuck between the pages to keep your place. With the grace of an angel (Akaashi thinks), you pick yourself up from the lounge chair and drift over to the couch he’s sitting on. Because he’s sitting upright towards the end closest to the fire, there’s more than enough space for you to sit and stretch your legs across the cushions. In fact, you do just that, settling for leaning your back against Akaashi’s strong side profile, his arm supporting most of your weight. Without meaning to, Akaashi finds himself adjusting his sitting position for your comfort. He feels your body tremble slightly and a small wave of concern washes over him.

“Should I ask one of the servants to bring a blanket for you?”

“That won’t be necessary. But thank you for your concern, your highness.”

“You don’t have to address me as so.”

“My apologies, it’s a force of habit.”

“Hmm.”

Akaashi has long given up on reading the words before him. Your question repeats in his head like a broken record.

“Doesn’t it frustrate you?” You whisper, interrupting his thoughts. “Doesn’t it anger you that since my birth, you’ve been forced into a game that you have no choice but to play?”

Akaashi hesitates. This topic has never been broached before, and he’s not sure how to address it.

“I’ll admit it was more frustrating in the beginning. Nobody enjoys being told what to do, especially when you’re little. But I learned to just accept it. In fact, to call it a game would assume that there is a losing side. From what I’ve studied, both of our kingdoms would benefit from this merger. What’s the loss?”

“Our freedom and choice,” you bite out, yet refusing to look at him. You’ve also given up on reading, yet you don’t want to arouse suspicion that this conversation is happening. If a servant were to hear, rumors would fly around the castle like a plague. “I think it’s only human that I want to experience love the way ordinary people do. We don’t even get a say.”

“What about both of our parents? They were arranged yet they love each other.”

“Simple, they got lucky.”

“Then would you rather run away and find another man to fall in love with?”

“More than that, I just want to experience life beyond the castle walls. My position is different from yours.”

“How so?”

You purse your lips, pausing. “Your Highness, what do you think would happen to you if I were to disappear, or god forbid, die?”

Akaashi’s eyes widen in bewilderment. “Why would you ask that?”

“You just need to answer my question.”

“Well,” he ponders. “I…believe I’d be somewhat sad. We would mourn the loss, surely.”

For the first time this summer, he hears a genuine chuckle from you. “I’m honored by your sentiment, your highness. I’m asking more of what you think would politically happen to you.”

Akaashi’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I guess…politically I’d be okay. Mother would be devastated, but I guess they’d find me another match. The merger with your kingdom would’ve been our strongest move, but it could still happen since we’re already on such good speaking terms. Supposedly there are other princesses waiting for a chance, and a merger could result from that as well.”

“What a humble braggart you are, your highness,” you tease.

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I know. But in all seriousness,” you switch to a more solemn tone. “The point is, you’d be okay. As you so nicely put it, you have women lining up to be with you.”

“Aren’t men lining up to be with you as well?”

“It’s not the same, Your Highness. As a princess, I’m brought up to constantly prove my worth to others. More importantly, I’m raised to prove my worth as a wife and a queen. We’re left to care for the children we must bear, we must keep our noses a reasonable distance away from kingdom business. If this engagement were to break, many outsiders would automatically assume that I was deemed unworthy of you, that I must’ve wrapped myself in some horrible scandal.”

Akaashi hums and stares into the fire. “I suppose that it’s rather unfortunate. I wish I had realized that sooner.”

“Your self-awareness speaks volumes. I usually wouldn’t admit this to you, but I know you’ll be a great king when it’s your time. Your people already love you, and they will only continue to love you more.”

“That’s very kind of you, Princess.”

“I only speak honestly. There’s no need to sugarcoat my words around you.”

Somehow, Akaashi finds that very comforting. Perhaps as someone in his position, he would consider honesty and wisdom to be valuable. Just because he’s destined to be king someday, doesn’t mean he would always make the right decisions. He would appreciate having you by his side in his decision-making.

“If this happens,” Akaashi finds himself speaking, also not one for beating around the bush. “I can promise now that I’ll try to change that. Even if we end up never loving each other, I’ll do my best to ensure that you never feel confined to such a role. As my w-wife,” he stumbles over the word. “I would want your input. You have a good head on you, and I’m sure you have valuable wisdom that I will need in due time.”

“Somehow, that’s the most romantic thing a man has ever said to me,” you say. He can hear the smile in your voice, his own small one forming on his face. When you move off the couch, his body immediately misses the warmth of your body pressed against his. After you’re done dusting yourself off, you begin to curtsy. He knows that this means you’re retiring for the night, but he’d rather you not leave right now.

“Wait,” he calls out, reaching for the hand not holding your book. You stay silent as Akaashi delicately holds your hand, then breaking out into a slight blush when he lays a soft kiss on the back of your hand, eyes never breaking contact with yours. He’s never been more princely to you than this moment – though his mother had made him do this on every first day you arrive at the castle, it never held so much meaning. This was of his own doing, his own volition, and that spoke volumes to you. He was trying to make this work in his own special way.

You don’t miss the way his thumb ghosts over your knuckles before releasing your hand, although the movement seems hesitant and troubled. “Good night, Princess,” he bids quietly, eyes looking back at the ignored book in his lap. Your heart beats with adrenaline, the chemical fueling you to step closer to him and bend down to place a kiss on his cheek. Akaashi does his best to not look surprised, but he knows that he has failed when he hears the sound of your gentle laugh.

“Good night, Keiji.”

The prince concludes right then and there that he has never heard anything more beautiful.

When you return to your chambers the next night, it’s hard to miss the most beautiful glass vase you’ve seen that’s sitting on your dresser. Inside stands a half-bloomed peony, a flower you recognize from the castle gardens. The petals have a tender shade of a light blush pink – if the flower-arranging lessons taught you anything, they stood for romance, compassion, and bashfulness. A neatly folded cardstock with your name stands demurely by the vase. The handwriting is strikingly familiar, and you can’t help but smile at the words neatly written inside.

To my future queen.

As you bring the flower to your nose and inhale the sweet scent, you begin to think that perhaps, you and Akaashi might just be lucky enough for love.

feel free to send requests for this au!

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#akaashi fluff #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi keiji #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #akaashi imagine #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you #adsentio #akaashi scenarios #keiji #akaashi #got a little..preachy? idk #so sorry!

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siempre-pedro · 4 years

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Should I Tell Her?

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Colleen is reveling in her new found confidence after Javi comments on her nails. She messed with the wrong woman after she starts giving “friendly” advice to you.

A/N: Colleen babe I am so sorry I am doing this to you. You don’t deserve this “villain” card. I just had to do it.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Kinda like back in high school when that cute senior boy would say hello to you once and you were hooked? Made you believe that he liked you? Yeah, that's how Colleen saw it. You were there the day Javi waltzed into your shared office with the woman and charmed her to get what he wanted. Friendly, but charming and oh boy was the poor woman hooked. You thought nothing of it originally, Javi flirted to get what he wanted regularly.

"Y/N!" Colleen perks up when you walked into the office a few mornings after the encounter. A little too cheery for 8:30 in the morning, you offer up a polite smile and put your small white bag on your desk "Look, look, I got my nails done again," she announced pointing her hands down to show off the deep purple color of her manicure.

"Cute, did you go to that place down the street?" You ask, taking your morning apple out of your bag. Colleen nods and cocks her head, her lips pouting.

"I'm sure Javi will notice." Your eyebrows raise, almost surprised at her words. She was giddy and excited about the future interaction that they might face. You touch the cold apple to your lips, tapping it gently, was now the right time to tell her? Nah, it probably wasn't going to happen again.

The sounds of loud chatter from the distance were making their way to the office, a conversation of having terrible Spanish made you laugh. Pena and Murphy entered the room, looking at each other with boyish smiles on their faces. "Morning guys, how can I help you?" Colleen asked over-enthusiastically making you roll her eyes. Javi places his hands down on her desk and looks at her paperwork.

Taking a bite you watched her lean into him, God you wanted to choke. "I just wanted to say thanks for the id, it really helped," Javi thanked her graciously and tapped his knuckles on her desk. He stood up straight and started to walk off with his partner. The agent offered a quick good morning to you as he walked past your desk.

You waved your hand at him nonchalantly and sat back in your brown leather chair, unamused. Colleen sighs and turns to you, sympathy etched on her face as she watched you eat. Your Y/E/C catches her gaze in your peripheral view and slowly start to turn your eyes towards her.

Taking another bite of your apple she starts to speak "I'm sorry that happened, Y/N."

"Sorry for what?" You ask confused in between chews.

"Javi saw you with food in your mouth," she says, "I know you have a crush on him."

Her words made you choke on your apple, roughly coughing into your elbow and putting the remainder of the fruit on your desk. "E-excuse me?" You ask in shock, your cheeks went red from the choking, not a blush, make no mistake!

"I see how you look at him, Honey. Maybe next time don't have food in your mouth, I'm so glad I didn't."

You were stunned by the audacity of your co-worker's passive-aggressiveness "I don't have a crush on Peña" you defend yourself, which was partly true. You didn't have to have a crush on him.

Colleen crosses her legs and looks away from you, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention to her computer. The audacity! Your mouth hung open as you watched her work. Maybe it was a good time to tell her.

The first comment snowballed into an almost everyday occurrence. You went about your day and she wouldn't hesitate to make a comment about you. God forbid you had a small hole in your stocking...you didn't tell her why you did. For the most part, you were able to block it out, sometimes it was even laughable. You didn't need him to notice you, but the brunette was desperate for the agent's attention.

12:30 rolled around a week later and you were starving, the golden-brown bagel sitting on your desk was calling your name, sitting there underneath the heat of your desk lamp. "Javi's coming don't eat that!" Colleen warns you as the two men walked in.

You grimace and pick up the bagel, taking a large bite out of spite "Y/N can you bring me those papers, please?" Javi asks as he stops in front of your desk. Murphy stands behind him, his watchful eyes watching Colleen glaring at you. What the hell was going on?

Swallowing, you nod "Yeah, they should almost be done printing. I'll be right there." You got up and made sure to take another bite of your snack, giving Colleen a scowl as you walk towards the printer, "I need carbs, Colleen."

"Does she know?" Murphy asks as you walk into their office, slapping the thick stack of reports onto Javi's desk. You shake your head and sit on the corner of your boyfriend's desk, your dress draping nicely over your knees.

"Nope," you respond, a small amused smile forming on your lips. Javi stood in between you and his partner, arms crossed over his chest. He was confused as you two looked at each other in shared amusement.

"You should tell her," Steve comments.

"I will if her little...," you sigh deeply "comments get worse. I have to get back to work, I'll see you guys for dinner later." Hoping off the desk, Javi came up behind you and gently caught you by the bicep. You stopped walking and turned to him, unconsciously leaning into him. It was a habit.

"Is something wrong, Hermosa?" he asks in a hushed tone, he brought his face closer to yours, catching a whiff of the expensive cologne you bought him.

"It's just Colleen, Javi. It's no big deal," you reassure him, the corners of your lips turning upwards into a kind smile. The man nods and lets you go, opening the door for you.

What you said wasn't a lie, the words didn't bother you but they did make you hungrier. They didn't bother you until the next morning when you walked in wearing a new dress, it was a form-fitting dark blue dress and you felt really good, your self-confidence was thriving.

You walked into the office with your head held high and Colleen looked at you with a big grin "Y/N! Oh my God, that dress! It's so cute," she comments. You smile at her and take a seat at your desk, turning on your computer.

Colleen was silent, but she couldn't help but notice you in that dress, she sighs and stops typing. Her hands folded in her lap, looking towards you with a condescending look that you could just slap if you noticed her.

"That's brave of you to wear something like that," she says with a smile, the fakeness dripping off every word. You pause and look up from your screen, but never at her.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah wearing something like that... I mean, you're brave with having that kind of shape." Your blood was boiling at this point, your jaw clenched so tight you were afraid of breaking it. "Javi's into a whole other woman, I think I fit his type... I think I'm going to ask him out."

It was amazing how someone could sound cold and mean and then at the very end of the sentence twist her tone into mock kindness. That bitch. It was all fun and games until she mentioned Javier and her body type. You take your fingers off the keys and rise from your seat. Seething anger apparent on your features. All fun and games until someone gets hurt. Ready to raise a fist to the woman, the sound of fast footsteps were becoming louder

"Y/N, I need your help in the evidence room, we got a lead on Escobar," Javi was quick, almost running past you as he spoke. The urgency couldn't be ignored. You simply shake your head at the women in front of you and take off after Javi.

Following him into the room, you start looking at the back wall where most of the new evidence was stored "What are we looking for. Photos? Call records?" the agent didn't answer, he was too busy locking the door and shutting the blinds.

"I need none of those things," he practically growls. He walks up behind you and places his large hands on your hips, spinning you around. "I've missed you, Mi Amor," his words are muffed, his lips attacking your neck. You let out a small breathy moan and look up at the ceiling.

"Javi," you squeak, grabbing at his olive green shirt. You just weren't into it, normally you were ready for him to take you on the desk behind him but Colleen's words linger in your mind.

Javier could feel how tense you were, he removes his lips with a small noise and looks up at you "Y/N, is something bothering you?" he asks, his deep brown eyes staring into yours.

You could have easily said no and let him carry on but instead, you push past him and put your hands on your hips "I-it's just Colleen and her misplaced confidence," you groan. Picking up a stack of papers only to slam them back down in frustration, Javi crosses his arms and leans against the metal shelving. "I should have just told her we were together! But no! She had to go and have the audacity to say I wasn't your type and she was!" You were almost yelling.

Javi looks down at the floor, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he listens to you rant. He knows this is his fault, he shouldn't have given her the attention he did to get information. Fuck. He looks back up at you, now pacing back and forth in the small room as you ranted, God you looked amazing in the dress he bought you. Perfection is what he saw.

He pushes himself off the wall and moves over to you, wrapping your figure in his embrace "Listen, Baby," he starts, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead mustache making your nose crinkle, "This is my fault, Y/N."

"No, Javi...I should have said something about us," you admitted, shaking your head. The man pulls back and runs his hands down your tense bicep

"Baby, you are my just my type...and so much more. There's no comparison."

"Promise?" Your eyebrows knit together, eyes starting to fill with tears. He steps a little closer and places his hands on your sides, fingers hooking the fabric and slowly hiking the dress up. The new cold feeling on your thighs sent shivers through your body.

"I promise," he purrs in your ear, "Why don't I clear off that desk and show you just how much my type you are, Hermosa."

The next morning you sat at your desk, turtle neck top covering up the hickies from the night before. Turns out Javi wasn't done after their time in the evidence room. Colleen wasn't giving you any problems, the silence was music to your ears.

Javier and Steve walked into the room, Javi's hands full with two coffee's and a pastry in a fancy bag barely handing on. "Colleen this is for you," Javi tells her cheerfully, handing her the basic white to-go cup. Colleen's face perked up and happily took it from him.

The agent didn't say anything after she said thank you, except offered a polite smile before walking to your desk "Good morning, Mi Amor," he greets you lovingly, his voice raising when he says the pet name. The woman next you glancing over at you two.

You stood up and smiled "Good morning, Javi." He holds out the more elaborate to go up and pastry "Is this from the place by your apartment?" you ask, looking at the little logo on the cup.

"Yeah I know you like it there, I hope you like it." Javi leans in and you know what he's about to do. The kiss was probably too much for the workplace, the way a small about of his tongue could be seen entering your mouth. Colleen's eyes were about to bug out of her head! Her mouth opened wide and eyes furrowed in anger.

Murphy coughed awkwardly and turned his head "We uh- should get to work, Jav," he warns.

Javier pulls away with a satisfied smirk "Have a good day, Ladies."

You watch them walk away, bringing the steaming hot cup of coffee to your lips, the smirk very present. You glance over at Colleen who was frozen with shock. The look alone wiped any thought of vengeance you had. You sat sipping your coffee happily, and she never spoke about the situation again.

#javier pena #javier pena imagine #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #reader insert

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

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Soul Shards Au Headcanons

Dunno if this already exists, but if not, here it is.

Tim Drake Soul Shards au.

—-.—–

Okay I wanted to write about this, but really, between Twisted Soulmates and Put a Ring on it, and *finals* (I’m halfway through hell, I have to keep going), I just can’t. But this wouldn’t leave me alone, so here.

Au where everyone is born hugging a shiny small orb, which encompasses their soul. To anyone else, the orb is solid, like diamond perfectly polished. But to the owner, it changes as they see fit, from rock solid to malleable. Commonly, mothers, fathers and close relatives will gift their kids with little pieces of their own souls, shaping them to be little rings, necklaces, headsets, etc. Kids are discouraged from giving soul shards to anyone other than their relatives until they grow up a bit, but some still give bits and pieces to their best friends. The bit of soul given away always carries the feeling the person who gave it has for the person receiving it, so kids always carry their mother’s love, their father’s pride, their aunts or uncles fondness, etc.

Now, into the headcannons. Please keep in mind I wrote this in one go so it’s not edited. Probably full of mistakes.

Tim’s parents were always careful with their souls, carrying them on little pouches or leather bags. They are full and perfectly unscathed. Jack’s soul was a little more reduced, since he gave bits and pieces of himself to his own parents when he was a little kid, but Janet’s is whole.

They never gave him a piece of themselves, Janet firmly against the act altogether, Jack following on her example.

Little Timmy always watched his classmates on kindergarten running around, shinny shards of soul decorating them, radiating a love he never felt on his own skin.

Fast forward the night the Graysons fell, little Tim went back home and made a little necklace for the boy that flew for him and gave him a hug so warm he likes to think it’s what being gifted a soul feels like.

He never really gets around to giving it to him though. It sits on a wooden box in a hidey hole under Tim’s bed, along with his most precious Batman and Robin photos.

He once tries to give his parents soul shards (a wonderfully made ring and headset for dad and mom respectively). His mother is outraged, to the point to slap him. Then, for maybe the second or third time in his life, she hugs him.

“-You stupid boy. Don’t give your soul away so easily, or you’ll have none left for yourself. And what do you think will happen to you, if you are soulless?”

He never tries again.

Tim once falls from a high spot, where he was perched taking pictures of the second Robin. His hero saves him, gives him an earful, and they become friends (Robin drops in before or after patrol to make sure Tim listened to his warnings and stopped sneaking out at night. Tim kept doing it, but was sneakier about it and Robin, despite being suspicious, has no proof that the kid disobeyed).

Tim gives Robin/Jason a soul shard once, a little birdarang he craved after the one Jason gifted him, but shiny blue like his soul. It’s filled with awe, respect, shyness, adoration and what would equal as a crush if Tim were socially adept enough to recognize it. Jason is a stuttering mess for weeks, keeps the birdarang with himself at all times, right next to the soulshard Bruce gave him, and never takes it off. He plans on giving Tim something back, but is unsure as to what. Earing? The kid needed a little pre teen rebellion…

He never gets around to doing it.

He’s clutching Tim’s birdarang when he dies. Bruce doesn’t know who gave it to Jay, and is too overwhelmed with grief to investigate. He just buries Jason with it.

After Tim becomes Robin, he finally gathers enough courage to give Dick his soulshard. He explains how much Dick meant to him growing up, but that Dick doesn’t need to give anything back. They’ve just officially met not long ago, after all. Dick promises to give him something soon, though.

He doesn’t. Other things are more important. IT’ll happen when it happens, he figures. No rush.

Bruce gets a watch and Alfred a tie pin, but Bruce refuses to give anyone else a piece of himself, less of all Tim. He’s sure his soul is poisoned or something (He gave some to his parents, they died. Dick, he left. Jason, he died. Clark and Diana, they were superhuman, they don’t count. Alfred… well, Alfred is always the exception), and won’t allow his darkness to touch the boy (OH BOY IS HE WRONG). But because he doesn’t want Tim to feel like Bruce has a personal problem with him (*epic fail on his part*), instead of calmly explaining his reasoning, he also forbids Alfred from giving Tim a soul shard (That shit’s gonna explode on his face).

Tim goes around to giving bits and pieces to his friends, too. Doesn’t really expect any back though, used as he is to giving and never receiving.

He gives Steph a locket, when she tells him she’s pregnant, so she can keep a picture of the baby if she wants (or anything else if she doesn’t), even after giving him or her away. Steph doesn’t reciprocate since pregnant women are advised against molding and sharding their souls, in case it hurts the baby’s soul development. Then she ‘dies’, and after she comes back Tim is angry at her, and there’s never a right moment for her to give him a shard.

Cass… well, Cass is so touched when Tim gifts her a soul-made compass that always points towards the Manor (“So you can always find your way back home”), but her father has damaged her soul by throwing it around and dropping it a lot, on top of his emotional and physical abuse, and it’s just too bruised for her to give any away, though she promises herself she will the moment it’s healthy enough.

Tim’s team… God, his team. By this time, Tim is kinda concerned, because he gave too much recently and his soul is looking kinda… malnourished? small? He can’t really put a finger on it, and he’s worried his parents will notice, so he doesn’t give his team a shard at first.

It’s after his parents die (buried with the soul pieces Tim made for them, even if they never wanted to wear them) that he thinks ‘fuck it’ and, while hanging out with Kon and Bart, gatters courage and asks them what would they like.

After being reassured that he wants to do it, Kon shyly asks for an earing (of course he does) and Bart for a ring (kinda like his grandfather’s? few other things would stay on him at the speed he runs, too). They wished they could give back, but Kon, as a clone and alien, was created with a soul no one can touch, like a phantom light following him around, and Bart already told them how everyone in the future was born with theirs inside their bodies.

He sees the soul-made birdarang again, and that’s what cues him on the fact that Jason Todd came back to life. It’s colour had changed from blue to red, the only reason he recognized it was the tiny R he carved on the middle. He sees it close and personal when his former hero tries to gut him.

He gives Cassie a bracelet on Kon’s funeral. Turns around and leaves before she can say anything about it.

Tim lays in bed at night and remembers his mother’s words (“You stupid boy.”), and wonders what, indeed, is the danger of going soulless. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. His soul has shrunk, that’s obvious, but, thinking back on all the pieces he gave away, he should have run out of it a long time ago.

Bruce dies. Everyone whose soul he gave to are the ones that carry his casket. Damian and Tim are sitting on the front rows, but their lack of deep blue soulshards is telling.

Not too long after, Dick gives Damian a little Robin sky blue brooch, to fasten the cape of his new uniform with. Tim wears black and red, not a hint of shiny soul on him. He leaves Gotham and looks for Bruce.

Ra’s is the first person ever to inquire about his shocking lack of soulmade gifts. To wonder about the bruised state of his soul.

“The Pit could heal it, restore it to it’s former grandness” “I’ve seen what it did to the bit of my soul I gave to Jason… no thank you.” “You’ve given far too much. It’s state is sad enough a hundred cynics wouldn’t be able to describe it without bawling” “It wasn’t a matter of give, it was a lack of take. And it’s not like giving it away is the only abuse my soul had to endure.”

He brings Bruce back, but he’s so tired. His soul hasn’t been growing back on itself like it did the first few times he took from it.

The love he felt when someone smiled at his soul shards was what feed his soul, he realizes. It’s past malnourished at this point.

If he had enough soul left, maybe he’d have cared.

The final straw is Damian, of fucking course. He doesn’t even remember what the argument was about, even five minutes after it had ended. He simply didn’t care anymore. Something about Wayne Enterprises, the right heir, the blood son…

Tim blinks blankly at Damian, hand reaching inside his pocket, looking for the now tiny, ping pong ball- sized piece of soul. The last he had left.

Silently, he stopped Damian’s rant short by taking the gesturing teen’s hand mid air and holding it open, dropping the remains of his soul in it, and closing the now still fingers around it.

“There. Now you truly have everything that was mine. Happy?”

He turns away, and leaves. Damian stays behind, heart hammering away in his chest, clutching the tiny (too tiny) soul.

In different places, different people feel a sudden heat from the pieces of Tim’s soul they carry with them. Steph, Cass, Bruce, Kon, Bart, Dick, Jason, Alfred, Cassie… they all look for theirs.

The soul is now mostly red with flecks of black, very little of the icy blue remains. It’s a bleeding soul.

A dying soul.

“And what do you think will happen to you, if you are soulless?” Sorry, mom.

Apparently, decides Tim, dragging his hoodie over his head to hide his features as he boards the plane, you stop caring.

—–.—–

Did I make you cry? I made myself cry. Was gonna give this a happy ending but I HAVE TO STUDY, FUCKING FINALS.

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yikeswtfmate · 4 years

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A Queen’s Love

Summary: Y/N has been Queen for five years when she is suddenly faced with the prospect of having to marry soon. Yet she can’t forget the love of her life, which she had to leave for the stability of the Crown and her Family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader (Royal AU)

Warnings: some swearing, mentions of death, idk does someone jokingly suggesting poisoning counts?

A/N: yeah so…this is my first Bucky Barnes fic and I haven’t written a new fic in probably four or five years now? To be fair, it doesn’t even feel like a Bucky fic though, I just wanted to get my juices flowing again and since I’ve read a shitton of Bucky fics lately, he was the one I was imagining while writing this so ya know…enjoy?

ALSO heavily inspired by The Crown obviously, so it might be a little overdramatic in certain parts as I was listening to the OST and got carried away

masterlist

The silence is split open by the grandfather clock that seems to be mocking Y/N with its ticking. She idly wonders if the situation would be the same were her father in her seat, as he should have been. Alas, these are questions which will never find their answer, and she found in the long years that have already passed since that fateful day, that it is better not to dwell on the possibilities.

She turns her gaze towards her brother, sat on her right, noticing the slight curl at the nape of his neck. She remembers how their mother used to smooth it whenever he would pass her, short respites from running around long and hollow corridors. The eyes of their ancestors following their every move, but Y/N has always lived with a tremulous sense of being judged, being watched, being controlled, as opposed to Arthur, who could experience at least a slight sense of normalcy. However normal being a royal prince and second in line to the throne could feel.

Her head snaps back to the rest of the table when her Grandmother lets out a call for attention, her signature clearing of throat which would sound suspiciously like a wet cat’s whimper for the untrained ears. Arthur winces visibly and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, waiting for the usual reprimand, yet it is Y/N who is shocked into obedient silence as she is reminded why exactly her Grandmother is still the Queen Mother.

“Y/N, dear, I do believe it is time to have a serious conversation regarding your future.”

“Whatever for exactly, Grandmamma?”

“Well, your marriage, of course!“

There is a distinct pause in every person’s movements in the room, and it seems as if the clock itself stopped ticking. Her Uncle flinches, seemingly caught unprepared, while her Aunt casts her eyes to her now completely captivating soup. Even the household staff stop in their tracks and Y/N is suddenly grateful for her lessons in diplomacy during her upbringing. She buys herself some time, wiping the corners of her mouth and finally takes a deep breath.

“Might I remind you, Grandmamma, that I am not yet married?”

“Why, of course, dear. I am not completely senile!” Her Grandmother’s disdain could also do with a scoff and a shake of her hand, if it weren’t for her strict etiquette. “What I meant to say is that I do think it is time for you to find a good man to help you rule. You can’t be by yourself forever, and by all means, especially not run the country. We all know you are not getting younger, and I highly doubt you will find a man as easily later, although you are the Queen.”

“She is only 25, Grandmother. She won’t dry up as a prune tomorrow, don’t worry.” Arthur almost hisses. He reminds Y/N so much of their mother in these types of interactions, even though she was much too kind to bare her utter displeasure as openly as him. Y/N places a hand on her brother’s forearm in warning, not in the mood to shift this to a familiar war. She knows she needs to deal with this situation with delicacy.

“Uncle, what do you think?”

Her lips twitch in a slight smile as she watches him do the same trick with the napkin to his mouth. He clears his throat, making her tense. This is not a good sign. He’s buying too much time.

“As much as I agree with the point your brother is trying to make, I can also understand your Grandmother’s…concerns.”

It is then that Y/N realises this has been a discussion held in her absence for some time now. What a fool I’ve been for not having seen this coming, she thinks. Her Uncle looks at her morosely, so she can still have some hope in him, but it does not sway her annoyance in the slightest.

“Do you believe I cannot rule the country without a man by my side?”

“Y/N.” Freddie tries again. “I do not mean to say you are unable to rule. You are one of the most intelligent and brave women I know, and you are more than capable to do it by yourself for the rest of your life. But you are also the Queen and it is customary for the Queen to have a king by her side.”

“That’s horseshit.” Archie snaps.

“Would you let me finish?” Freddie retorts and waits a second in mock permission until Arthur grumbles in agreement. “However… the duties of the Crown are heavy and I do believe that having someone next to you to lessen its burdens would only benefit you. If only for the small personal relief it would bring you, I know how much it would mean.”

Y/N turns towards her Grandmother, who smiles graciously, although the twitch in her eyebrow is evident. She did not get the complete and total agreement she hoped for, but they are all aware that without Y/N’s beloved Frederick, her words would only be fleeting in the Queen’s mind, as they have been for the last year.

"Very well. I shall think about it and we can discuss this later.”

“Your Majesty?”

Y/N looks up from her diary at Anthony who seems visibly distraught in front of her desk. She narrows her eyes, expecting to be irritated yet again in the span of two days.

“Her Highness the Queen Mother, has requested to attend the events for the week in your place.” Anthony finally lets out, after she hums her assent. “And she also asked to inform you that she would want you to take a…holiday in the meantime.”

“I beg your pardon?” Y/N doesn’t know what to do with this information, but she definitely knows that she’s now more than irritated.

“She would like you to go…somewhere warm and sunny, I believe she said, ma'am.”

“What?!” To hell with etiquette.

“I think she wants you to get nice and toasty for a fellow who’s waiting for you on the beach, dear sister.” Arthur’s snickers can be heard from the heap laying on the couch. Y/N flings the pen she was holding at him, which only makes him squeal.

Turning back to Anthony, who is now more than mortified with discomfort, she pushes her glasses up her nose. “And where exactly would the Queen Mother have me go?”

“Spain, ma'am.” There’s a pause. “I believe the youngest Prince of Spain became recently available.”

Anthony is chased out of the office with swears that are more fit for a sailor than for a Queen and incessant howls of laughter that reverberate through the walls.

“I cannot believe she is making me do this. What is the bloody point of being Queen if I can’t even go on holiday wherever I bloody well please?” Y/N’s grumbles come out more as hisses through the phone.

“You’re too nice to her, that’s your fucking problem, Y/NN. If you would just tell her to fuck off, I bet she wouldn’t dare…no, wait. Scratch that. She would make your head in. You’re right. Until the bloody crone gets in the ground, you’ll have to either deal with her and give her at least something, or you know…have you poisoned in your sleep.”

“Arthur!”

“But then again, she wouldn’t kill you because then she would have to deal with me as king, and then the whole country would go to shit or, you know…worse, it would become, God forbid, a republic.” Arthur shudders in mock horror, which earns him a snort from his sister. “Anyway, how’s the prince then? Is he a tall dark and mysterious asshole?”

“Felipe is perfectly acceptable.” Y/N sighs.

“But not for a husband.”

“But not for a husband.” She agrees. Although he would very much enjoy the Spanish beaches this late in August, he couldn’t bear going through Y/N’s ordeal at the moment. He can’t stand the idea of his sister being paraded around like a prized pony, just for the sake of “stability for the country” or whatever that bloody hag keeps mumbling about.

“I have to go now, Archie. Felipe is throwing a party so I can meet some of his friends and ‘feel like a normal young adult for once.’ You know, if I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure if he himself wants to go through this whole nightmare. You two would have made great friends if you were to meet.”

“Why don’t you have your fun with him as well and be done with this? What’s that expression they use? Hit it and quit it, sis. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Might as well take something out of this charade.”

“Bye, Archie.”

Y/N idly wonders if the slit in her dress is too high. She is also thinking that her boobs are kind of starting to hurt from being pushed so high up, not used to such tight dresses. But when she remembers Felipe’s conspiratorial wink when he said she should try to be herself tonight as ‘it will only be friends who are young, open-minded, and close-lipped,’ she smooths the glittering fabric and shakes her shoulders to release some tension.

Felipe offers her a flute of champagne as he retakes his place next to her, and lays his hand on her bare back. A shiver runs through her spine, her body suddenly awake to the male attention she’s getting after such a long time. The moment the champagne passes her lips, she realises how much she missed these kinds of parties, where no one expects more from her than to have fun with people her own age. The Spanish Prince smiles at her over his own glass, while his thumb continues to make small circles in her flesh.

“Right, I should stop being so greedy and show you around, shouldn’t I?”

They make their way through the vast room, filled with crowds who seem happy to meet her, and yet lack that admiration that borders on fixation that is so common in her people. Y/N feels relieved, as if she can show at least a tiny morsel of herself, even though just for the night. And in a moment of clarity, when she is already on her third or maybe fourth glass of champagne, she is shocked into the realisation that she fully understands her Uncle’s reasons for wanting her to marry. In that second she knows she will never be able to completely and absolutely let go in front of anyone and still be loved and accepted, except for her husband.

Suddenly, Felipe’s attentions seem insignificant and the room is too warm, too stifling for her liking. She makes her excuses to her host, and finds her way to the garden that is illuminated by fairy lights. Enchanting. Y/N unceremoniously drops on a chair, sighing heavily. She looks up and smiles at all the stars in the sky, trying to tune out the chatter behind her.

“Is that the approved way in which a Queen should sit down?”

Y/N closes her eyes, suddenly wishing to be as far away and as close to him as possible at the same time. “I should have known you’ll find me even here, Bucky.”

She watches him taking a seat in the chair next to her, and can’t help but notice the way his hair is now loosely tied into a knot at the back of his head, not falling into his eyes anymore. He takes a sip of his whiskey and hands her his glass, as it’s his turn to observe her.

“Your hair is longer.” He comments, taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger until it falls gently back on her shoulder.

“So is yours.” They look at each other for a second, each waiting for the other to say something, but then turn towards the night sky. It has always been easy for Y/N to have him next to her, silently in agreement with her every move. “I’ve missed you at my birthday party.”

“You mean that monstrosity of a ball your Grandmother threw for you at the palace? You know she wouldn’t have invited me, even if I begged.” He snorts. “Archie told me you were pissed off the entire night.” He raises his eyebrow at her in inquiry and she debates whether telling him the truth would be a good idea. Shifting uncomfortably in the iron chair, she motions for his glass to take another sip. He hands it to her, waiting patiently for the answer that he is almost certain he won’t get. Y/N’s tendency to only share what is strictly necessary has only gotten worse ever since she was ten and could understand that her destiny would be ruthless and unforgiving of every mistaken step.

“When I was getting ready, Anthony told me you wouldn’t be there.” She murmurs as she stares straight ahead. Maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, or maybe it’s just late and it’s easier to spill out secrets in the dark. Whatever the reason, she feels as if there’s a crack in all the walls she has carefully built around herself for the last five years since she has ascended to the throne. Freddie was right, she thinks, having someone next to me is the only way to survive this nightmare.

After her parents’ death, her sense of duty was the only force that could drive her forward. It was her sense of duty to the Crown, to the Country, to the People, to her Family that has allowed her not to crumble into the void that she would’ve wanted to fall prey to. It was her sense of duty that helped the country overcome the tragedy her parents’ death brought about. It was her sense of duty that transformed her into an icon for her people at only 20 years old. It was also her sense of duty however that forced her to leave the love of her life behind, without second thought when she was asked to. In the name of the Crown and in the name of the Family.

But now she wonders if James’ transgressions were indeed so atrocious so as to attract the Queen Mother’s rage and her subsequent disapproval. As she looks into his blue eyes, she wonders whether she could fix this mistake that changed her life in more ways than the Crown ever did. Y/N’s heart is still his, even after all these years, and she feels deep within her bones that it forever will be, however many suitors will be lined up for her.

“I want you to come back to Court.” She whispers, full of hope, but feeling as if she’s just thrown herself into the abyss.

Bucky just watches her for a few moments, and it seems as time stretches itself into eternity. There’s a hold of breath that escapes from her parted lips as he finds her hand and holds it up to kiss the inside of her wrist. His smile is sad, the smile of a man who knows that only death awaits him.

“We both know that is impossible, Your Majesty.” Y/N bristles at the formal title; he is aware how much she hates it when he addresses her in that manner. Aware that when he does it, he only sees her as the Queen, and not as his once beloved Y/NN. She snaps her hand back, only to grab his with a ferociousness that shocks them both.

“James. Please.”

The reverberations of that simple word bounces between them with more force than a cannon going off next to them. He remembers the time she admitted in a fit of rage that she will never beg anything of him. Words that stung more than swords or bullets, words that cut through his entire body with proclamations of titles and reminders of hierarchy. He closes his eyes, trying to chase those memories away and her pleas with them. He is afraid. Afraid that if he lets himself get dragged again back in that circus of a family he’ll either regret it or get out of it feet first. Afraid that her begging would never sway her grandmother, and only a full battle would, a battle that he is afraid she would never hold for him, not when the Family’s contentment is at stake. But most of all, he is afraid that she is just drunk and lonely and desperate and he is just and easy option for her at the moment.

He brushes her cheek with his free hand, and his heart breaks yet again when a tear falls down. He lets go of her and stands up, utterly intent on finally trying to start a new life without her, a resolution that he feels is long overdue after all these years. Y/N stands up as well and whimpers. He doesn’t have to turn to face her to know she’s watching him, he can hear the tears in her voice as she speaks.

“Bucky, I’m begging. I’m begging you. Please. Please, I was wrong and stupid and young and thought Grandmamma knew better. I thought we would both just get over it and I thought the Crown would take precedence over everything and it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to matter that I wasn’t happy, that my heart was broken in a million pieces because I let you go, on top of my parents being dead. I was supposed to get over it. But I can’t. I can’t and I kept loving you this whole time and I’ve loved you ever since I bloody met you 20 years ago. I love you, James, and I can’t do this without you. Please, Bucky.”

“I had a dream once that I got everything I wanted.” He says after a few moments when only her sobs would cut the laughter from inside the house. “It felt more like a nightmare when I woke up though.” He turns, a tentative step towards her. “I dreamt that you were there next to me and you said 'as long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.’ But then I woke up and realise you were the only one who could hurt me and you did, Y/NN. You goddamn did for fuck’s sake.” She whimpers again, but doesn’t have the strength to look at him. He raises her head with a finger under her chin, that beautiful face completely wrecked by tears and regret.

“I’ll come back to Court.” Her smile is unsure, not believing what her ears are telling her, Y/N is unable to form a coherent response before James continues. “But we’ll start this again. We will have a proper courtship, and your precious Grandmamma better go fuck herself or I swear to Christ, I will leave the second you start listening to her again even if it means wearing a pair of earrings she suggested.”

Y/N smiles and laughs and nods, as tears keep streaming down her face. She is not sure whether from happiness or the sheer relief of what his words mean. Then he kisses her, and it feels as if all the missing pieces are falling back into place, as if she’s finally home after years lost at sea, as if colour drains back into her life and all the questions and doubts are answered and resolved.

“Y/N!” It’s not hard to hear the shriek through the mahogany doors, which Y/N takes as her cue to slowly close her pen and interlace her fingers in front of her on the desk. Arthur stands up from his usual place on the couch, suddenly interested in the drama that will ensue. There’s a grin on his face and he lets out what sounds faintly as “oh yeah, here we go, the hag is finally gonna get it.” Y/N shushes him with a smile, just before the doors burst open and their raging Grandmother comes stomping in the office.

“May I help you, Grandmamma?” Y/N asks coolly.

“What is this nonsense about the Barnes boy being at Court again? I thought I had him thrown out! I thought I made myself clear five years ago when I told you never to see that American boy again! Have you lost your senses, girl? Have you forgotten that you are forbidden to even speak his name?”

Y/N stands up from her chair, slowly and deliberately making her way around the desk in order to tower above the diminutive Queen Mother.

“Your Highness, if I may speak. First of all, I am not a girl, but the Queen of the kingdom, and you should address me as Your Majesty. Or Y/N, and this only for the love I bear my father and would not want to disrespect his mother. Second of all, James is currently courting me in the hopes of asking for my hand in marriage in the hopefully not so distant future, which I fully intend to accept. Third, you are speaking about your future King, therefore if I were you I would be more careful with the words you choose to employ. Lastly, you cannot forbid me anything. You wanted me to get married, and I will. In time. And by my own accord, and with a person of my choosing, which so happens to be the 'American’ in question. Now, I would very much appreciate it if you would stop meddling in my personal affairs for the time being and for the foreseeable future. That is all.”

Her Grandmother’s expression is priceless in her stupor. Unable to form coherent words, she leaves the room spluttering grumbles and mumbles, that the local drunk would be proud of. Y/N knows however that this is only the beginning of a life-long struggle that will seep in every corner of their lives. Archie looks at her with a gleeful expression on his face, enraptured by the exchange. She could bet good money he will tell this story to her children from the day they will be born until his dying breath. He fiddles with his phone for a second, having probably filmed the whole thing “for posterity,” but she doesn’t have time to bask in her glory as Freddie appears in the doorway.

“I came to warn you your Grandmother caught wind of James being back, but from Arthur’s foolish smile, I shall presume you must have already met with her.”

“She didn’t only meet her, Uncle! She completely obliterated her!” As both of them start dissecting the discussion, with points exemplified by Archie with his video proof, Y/N’s phone signals a message just received.

Atta girl. I’m proud of you.

She smiles at the screen, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Unbelievable that at her age and station, a man can still get that reaction out of her. Her fingers start typing a reply, before another one makes its way into her inbox.

Who says I’m going to marry you though, Y/NN? A bit bold of you, don’t you think?

Don’t start with me, Barnes.

Wouldn’t dream of it, babe. I can’t wait to be called the Queen’s husband.

You better, punk.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x royal reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #royal au #bucky barnes royal au #bucky barnes x queen!reader

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yeaahishowedupatyourparty · 3 years

Note

Slurred words Zara & felicity

“Honestly? I hate my parents for everything they’ve done to all of my sisters, but maybe I hate them for what they’ve done to Felicity the most. Since we’ve all been at St Judes, she’s been painted as this hard-working, robotic character who only does what she does to compete with Amber. Others would be called passionate and driven but when it comes to her, all I hear is harsh, or closed-off, or moody and aggressive and it breaks my heart because that’s not my sister, okay? You don’t know who my sister is and you never will because regardless of what she does, you’ll only ever see the version of her that fits into whatever toxic narrative is getting the most hype on your stupid blog. It’s so funny that this academy is apparently hyper aware of girls supporting girls and not pitting women against each other, but never consider why that concept even exists in the first place. Nobody’s comfortable enough to shed light on the fact that not all women have the privilege of being a girl’s girl and everybody’s best friend - Felicity being a prime example of this. Because listen, to be a girl’s girl...to be one of the women who actually benefit from ‘Girls Supporting Girls’, you have to contort, mould and sculpt yourself into a tiny window that’s almost completely fucking impossible to fit. Girls will support you if you have a particular body, or you’ve got a hotter partner, or your having more success, or you’re more attractive, or say things that’re a little bit out there but nothing too controversial because God forbid any woman separate herself from the status quo and show a little bit of fucking individuality and ambition. Maybe she is all of those things; maybe she is closed-off and moody, and straight up a bit of a bitch. But she’s also nurturing. I’ve lost count over the times she’s held me while I’ve cried over yet another good for nothing boy. And, she’s also funny...Really funny...The type of funny that doesn’t work at somebody else’s expense. She’s loving and despite all of my Dad’s flaws loves him immensely. God, if any of us will be able to stand with her heads held high at his funeral when the day comes, it’ll be her because every time she sees him she shows him appreciation where I just slam both literal and metaphorical doors in his face. I’m a lot like her and you are too, whether you care to admit it or not. You’re not an outline of an underdeveloped character is some bullshit coming of age story. You have multiple masks that get you through the day and hidden secrets that sleep with you at night. There’re things that make you cry and things that make you laugh, and then there’re things that make you do both. You’re well within your rights to dislike someone, but I’ve never understood attacking somebody for being human in the same way we all are and quite frankly, I’ll never forgive anyone who puts her in the firing line.”

#starliightxo #zara x felicity

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

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A Forest Interlude Chapter 24 - The Missing Bride

Summary: Eleonore (OFC) discovers a wounded man in the woods near her home and seeks to heal him. Little does she know that it is none other than the heir to the throne, Prince Hal of England.

Chapter: 24 of 28

Rated E

Warnings: smut, sex fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, hand jobs

(spoiler - don’t worry, it will all work out okay in the end)

In this chapter: Hal confronts his past behavior with Poins, and discovers the abduction of his darling wife.

Read the entire story on AO3

@nrthmnsplbnd09 ; @nonsensicalobsessions @yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles @from-hel-i-with-love livviedoo@hopelessromanticspoonie @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen@dangertoozmanykids101 @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @shiningloki@hiddlesholic @isitmadnessrpg

If he clenched his jaw any harder Hal was convinced all of his teeth would break. This was not at all how he had anticipated the afternoon proceeding. The warm bath that he had so looked forward to sharing with his eager wife was bordering on cold, and instead of her soft moans his ears were being assaulted with a steady string of mindless prattle from Ned Poins.

Ned, who was by some reckoning his closest companion. Who definitely was the his most frequent co-conspirator and partner in crime. How that had come to be the case, Hal was having a difficult time remembering now, for he found the steady stream of malicious gossip and cruel innuendo falling from the other man's lips grating to him. A month or two ago Hal would have been laughing at his latest conquest of some poor, unsuspecting baker's wife. Ned had managed to convince the woman that he wanted to run away with her in order to bed her, only to deny any such plans when her husband caught them, mid tryst. Now, Hal merely felt sorry for the poor woman. Her life had been ruined simply because she had a nice pair of breasts that had managed to catch the wandering eye of a bored noble.

A blessed silence stretched as Hal quickly washed himself, regretting it was not Nell's hands wandering over his body, all soapy and searching. He gave a soft sigh at the thought, his cock half heartedly twitching, and was met with a snort of derision. Looking up, he saw Ned was staring at him with shuttered, cynical eyes.

"I'll give you this, your wife's a pretty piece," Poins said, a twist of his lips substituting for a smile, "though not, for me, enough to risk a ring. Was wedding her in truth the only way that she would open up her legs to you? If so, I hope the prize was worth the price, for to my mind she's a controlling wench."

"I'll tell you once the same I told the king," Hal said, rising from the tub, naked and dripping, and crossing to tower over his friend in anger, "I will not hear a word against her Ned. Nell is my wife, and I do love her well. You would be wise to bear that thought in mind, or this my first will see to it you learn."

"A thousand pardons Hal, I meant no harm!" Ned replied quickly, raising both hands in defense and stepping back. "I see you are much taken with her now. Though I profess to hear you speak of love, and have the words be so sincerely meant, doth hardly reconcile with my old friend."

"I do suppose you have some cause in that," Hal was forced to admit, as he snatched up a bath sheet and began toweling himself dry. "When I think now of what my life hath been, and how I so mistreated the fair sex, I do begin to almost hate myself."

"Mistreat them? Hal, I hardly would say that!" Ned laughed. "For I was near at hand as oft as not, and from the sounds you brought forth out of them, those ladies that you tumbled for a night had nothing to complain of in your bed!"

Hal cursed himself for thinking that Ned would understand what he was saying. He did not mean that he had hurt the women, heaven forbid! Nor even that he had not done his best to make sure that they came away from the encounter thoroughly satisfied. It was just that he had never given a one of them any thought once the random coupling had ended. He had never wondered if they pined for him, or if he was getting in the way of a relationship that might bring them more joy in the long term. Short of doing his best to ensure that their were no royal bastards to follow him about, he had taken his pleasure without any further worry.

"I hope that you are right, but who can say?" was all he answered now, knowing it was useless to share his thoughts with the other.

"Well, I am going now to Jocelyn's," Ned said, laying back on Hal's bed with a groan. "Her babe at last is weaned, so now's my chance. Perhaps I'll ask her for you, if you like, if she did feel disgraced by your hand."

Apparently Ned thought this a capital joke from the way he laughed. Hal managed a grimace that passed for a smile and began dressing absentmindedly. Jocelyn was a lusty woman, and ran a thriving brothel. She was not the type that Hal had been worrying over hurting. All the same, he wished Ned would show her some respect.

"No doubt you will have other things to say," Hal suggested with a raised eyebrow, "and will not need to fall back on my name."

"Oh I do not plan to say much at all! My mouth shall be much happier employed. But come, shall you go with me good sweet prince? I hear she has a new girl in her house, a redhead with an ardency to match. I'm sure the girl would count it quite a coup if she could snare a prince into her bed."

"I have no need for whores, I thank you Ned. I am, if you recall, a man now wed."

"Well yes, I know that you did take a wife," Ned looked at him in almost comical alarm, "but surely that need not affect you much. Nell need not know whereto we two are bound, tis not like she will hear it from your whore! And I should think she may think it relief that she must not see to your needs today."

"You do not mark me, so I'll say it plain. There will from now be no more whores for me. I fear you must seek for another man to bear you company in your pursuits."

"But Hal, you must be playing at some jest - you surely do not mean you plan to be a faithful husband to your loving wife?"

"Yet that is just exactly what I mean," he nodded. "Now that the gods have granted me my heart, I would not put such happiness at risk by wasting of my time with random whores or ladies who would cast themselves at me. I want but one fair damsel in my bed, and much to my eternal wonderment, that woman is none other than my wife."

Ned stared at him in stunned disbelief. Hal knew that he deserved no less, and once more felt his shame rise. He could not truly fault Poins. Even discounting Hal's reputation as a rake, very few men of his rank were completely faithful to their wives. He supposed it came with the territory when most marriages were arranged more for money and alliances than for affection. He was a man most blessed that his life's companion was the owner of his very soul.

"My lord, my lord! I must see you at once!" Cecil demanded, barging into the room in a most undignified fashion quite at odds with his usual reserved bearing.

"What is it man? Here, sit and catch you breath," he instructed as his man doubled over and wheezed.

"There is no time, her Highness, Princess Nell..." Cecil gasped out, causing Hal's heart to stop beating.

"What Nell? Why what is wrong? Sir, speak to me!" he demanded, fear like a cold finger on his spine. "Is it the babe? Has she come to some harm?"

"No, no my prince, tis not as bad as that," Cecil hastened to assure him. "A troop of guard appeared here at our gate, and did insist that she should go with them!"

"What, take her from her home? I'll kill them all! Where were our own men that they stopped them not?"

"Your grace, she went with them of her own will, for they were dressed in colors of the king, and his own sigil did bedeck their breasts! Only the gateman knew what did occur until she had acceded to their will. Poor lad, he is beside himself in fear that he did put her life somehow at risk."

Hal began littering the air with every curse he knew. There had been no direct word from his father since their frightful encounter on his wedding day, and the lack of condemnation had lulled him into a false sense of security. It had never occurred to him that Henry would do something so extreme as to send armed guards to abduct Nell from their home! What could he possibly hope to gain by doing any such thing?

"Have Strumpet saddled for me straight away," he commanded Cecil, pulling his boots on as he spoke. "I ride at once to see our revered king. I hope he has some reason for this act, as patricide is still a grievous sin. But if he has caused any harm to her, I will not answer for my own reply."

"Your horse is waiting for you in the yard. It was not hard to think what you would do."

"I thank you, Cecil. Ned, I bid you well. You must excuse me, for I now depart."

"I would not think to keep you from your bride," Ned said with an odd voice Hal could not quite place, but thought might contain humor. He supposed seeing him cast as the avenging husband might seem humorous to someone else. To himself it was deadly serious.

Cecil was as good as his word, and Hal's favorite horse was saddled and waiting for him. It took him very little time to ride to the palace. Even were he not known on sight through most of London, one look at his furious face was enough to clear all out of his path. When he arrived at the castle, he threw his reins to a random groom and stormed inside, beating a path for the presence chamber. Not waiting to be announced, he thrust open the doors and barged inside.

"Where is she sir, for I will have her back!" he hurled the words at the old man sitting on the throne like a spear.

Henry, who until that moment had been in deep conversation with his master of coin, started in his seat as though a dragon had burst into his throne room, and indeed Hal looked like one. When he realized the accosting person was in fact his eldest son, his face turned red and his eyes lit with rage. Still, his voice was clam and cutting as he addressed Hal.

"You should be whipped for lack of manners, boy. Do you not know to whom it is you speak? How dare you come before us in such state, and so abuse our royal presence thus?"

"Forgive me if I do not curtsey, sir," Hal sneered, as the gathered court looked on in shock. "Perhaps if you had not kidnapped my wife I might have time for courtliness and grace."

"Has all the sac you drink gone to your brain?" his father demanded, glaring at him. "Why, tell me boy, would I abduct your wife?"

"Why that you must tell me, for I know not!"

"And do you see her here, you foolish sot? I have not set my eyes upon the girl since I did see you both the day you wed."

"Is this the truth? You did not send for her?"

"I have no need to lie to you, you wretch! In truth I have done all that I could do to put the two of you far from my mind!"

"Then this is even worse than I did fear!"

Hal was completely lost now. When he thought that his father had taken Nell, he had feared for their future, but never for her physical safety. Say what you would about Henry, and Hal had, but he was not a threat to women. The worst he had imagined was that his father intended to ship her off to a convent and dissolve their union. If it was someone else... the possibilities were as dark as they were endless.

"What put it in your head that I had her?" Henry's voice sounded begrudgingly concerned.

"The gateman said that guards did come for her, dressed in the livery of your own house."

"Flat lies, and that you can see for yourself! Why, you have known Renaldo all your life and here he stands as he has done all day. If I had sent my men on such a task as would require discretion in to be done, as to abduct my son's wife from their home, think you I would entrust it not to him?"

Hal had to admit his father had a point. Renaldo had been with them since Hal was a boy, as faithful to Henry as he was circumspect. His father was far too fussy to allow such an act as Hal was accusing him of to be done in a way to cause talk among the public. If he had sent for Nell, it would have been Renaldo that retrieved her.

Hal's mind spun. It made no sense. Who would want to take Nell? Could it be Northumberland, angry at the cancelled wedding? Or perhaps the Earl of Kent who he had provoked at the market? He could not think clearly, not when the dearest person on the globe was in such peril.

"But said your man that they were dressed as us?" Renaldo asked now, voice sounding almost concerned as he looked at Hal with searching eyes. "What men would have free access to our garb? My men are quartered close unto the king, and only one admitted to those rooms could hope to take one jerkin, far less six"

Six. They had been dressed in uniforms of Henry's household. And their had been six of them. Slowly, Hal lowered his head into his hands and laughed an almost unhinged laugh.

"I am as foolish, Sire, as you think," he said, shaking his head. "I pray you all, forget this freakish start. I did not mean to so disrupt your day. I'll leave you now and cause no more discord."

"I am, I think, an explanation owed," Henry said in a wry voice. "You do, I take it, know who has your wife?"

"I do believe I do, and if I'm right, they shall regret the day they hatched their plan."

"Renaldo then shall go along with you," Henry surprised Hal by saying. "She is, for now, a member of my house, and as such we cannot allow insult. When you have her extracted from this mess, I will expect you all to return here. I have some words which I would say to thee."

Hal did not miss the formal tone on the end of his father's decree, but for now he had more important matters to attend to. The pieces had fallen into place, and he was reasonably certain that he knew just where he would find Nell. Heaven help the men when he got there.

#the hollow crown #the hollow crown fic #Henry V #Prince Hal #Prince Hal/OFC #Romance #Historical Romance #Historical AU #Tom Hiddleston #Smut #fluff #angst #royal families #forbidden marriage #love #true love wins

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years

Text

Alright, everyone, this is a personal post as much as it’s a public post so feel free to scroll all the way down to the colored text for the public part of the message but if you, like me, enjoy drama, then continue on!

So, to make a very, very, very long story short for those who don’t know, I call my birth mother Mother Gothel due to her emotionally abusive upbringing of me that caused me to suffer from severe depression, anxiety, and even hair loss! A few years ago, back in 2016, my friend-turned-sister drove down with her mother, packed me and my bags up, and gave me a place to live and start over where I’ve been able to get jobs, go to school, and become much healthier than I used to be!

During those years of growth and recovery, however, I kept in contact with Gothel through emails and the occasional phone call. Over the years, from the safety of being hundreds of miles away, I told her that I was gay and dating a girl. The resulting emails were not pleasant and she had no problems about calling my girlfriend a whore. Lovely, right?

Every email she has sent me has contained detailed bible quotes and scripture and needles of guilt over everything I’m doing “wrong.” She’s still “so proud of me,” however. So at least there’s that, right?

As of recently I emailed her and told her that I will be attending a four-year university in Tacoma Washington (moving away from Illinois) to continue my education. Her resulting email was lengthy. Here is some of it - cut for length.

Hi Michelle.

...

You have to watch everything you say this day and time, at least that is what Jesus said in the Book of Matthew 5:37-- "Let your Yes be Yes, and let your No be No. Anything else is from the evil one." (anotherwords the devil will take your words you speak and trip and mess you up land you in jail or prison for 10 yrs)That would be really sad after you work so hard for an education and degrees then let him mess you up but read in John 10:10--the enemy comes to steal--kill--destroy--but Jesus said I have come so that you may have life and have it more abundantly. That is why Jesus said in Proverbs 18:21" Life and death are in the power of the tongue"

...

I was telling Mom on the phone just this morning we talked for two hours-- that I was going to get a restaurant job here as soon as possible and let it move me out of here--I am moveing to Battle Creek or Marshall by Sept (labor day) and that I was sooo excited that I would finally get to see you, she said either her or Carl would drive me to [REDACTED] every now and then to see you. So Yes, I feel like a bomb was just dropped on me, my heart is broken, however I hope you will be happy and I wish you well in body and spirit-- I wish you nothing but the best. Just know one thing is for sure, I read my Bible and I will tell you right now, we are living in our last days you need to be concerned about where you are going to spend eternity. I just finished up reading the book of Matthew. In Matthew 21:25 The Heading Reads: "The Coming of the Son of Man" vs 25- And their will be signs in the Sun, the Moon, the Stars--mens hearts will fail them for fear and the expectation of those things which are coming on the earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. vs 27--THEN they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with Power and Great Glory. Now when these things begin to happen, look up and list up your heads, because your redemption draws near". Jesus said He would give us signs in the Heavens above and the earth beaneath. All of the earthquakes that have been happening for the last decade leading up to the Austrailian wildfires, and billions of animals died, God is giving us the signs, its just like He said in Matthew 24:36-44.

Lastly, 1 Thessalonians 4 :13--But I do not want you to be ignorant brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God wil bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven With A SHOUT--with the voice of an archangel, and with the Trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rist first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord, Therefore Comfort one another with these words.

After the Rapture, then comes the tribulation. I have read Revelation many times and to say the least you don't want to be left behind. In Heaven their will be 30 mins of silence that is when all Hell breaks loose down here. Just whatever you do, Do NOT take the mark of the beast if you do, then you will mark your soul for eternal damnation. Then you will hear the devil say----"Hello! Welcome to Hell!

I am saying all of this bcuz now you have a choice to live for God or for Satan. If something should happen to your body or God forbid but if someone tries to take your life or you get in an accident and your heart is not right with God--That is exactly how you will stand at the Judgement Bar. The minute you take your last breath in this body, you will be ushered into the presence of God then it is too late to make a decision there it is if the Angel does not find your name in the Book of Life, then the devil stands there waiting to escourt you to------Well lets just say---You Don't want to go there. But the Bible says you will answer for every deed done in the body good and bad.I know one thing, it can't be too much longer according to scripture. The greatest tool the enemy uses from his toolbox is that you have plenty of time--well I can say the devil is a liar cuz Jesus just says--Be Ready it is not up to us how long we get to stay down here, that is God's calling.Second Timothy 3----But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away! For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of truth.

Sister, we are living in our last days, make every day that God gives you breath in your body count bcuz you don't know when it will be your last day. There is pleasure in sin for a season--Hebrews 11:24. Whatever you do, don't let the devil take your life and your soul, it is not worth it.

Love You So Much and want to make sure your soul doesn't go to H---. I am praying that you will have a preacher as a husband.I miss you Michelle, I miss hugging you, I miss walking up those stairs to bring your meals to you I would LOVE to hug you just one more time. That may or may not happen before He Returns ony God knows this.Please write me back when you can, you are always on my heart and mind. I have made mistakes while we were all living at 2414, I am so very sorry I pray that you forgive me if I have offended you please forgive me, I thought I had it all together. But now I see, I was just messed up and made lots of wrong choices, but God came along with His Holy broom and cleaned up my mess and said to move on. I am so glad when He forgives our sins, He forgets never no more to be remembered. All I can say is ---Thank-you Jesus.

...

Love You Forever my dearest Daughter and Friend.

This is the average email from her and I’ve been told that it’s not normal to receive emails this long talking about how she’s ‘devastated’ by my choices and how the world is going to end in hellfire soon. Please allow me, however, to show the email she immediately sent after the above.

[T]acoma is Washington's most dangerous city, with a violent crime rate of 953 incidents per 100,000 residents. While this is a relatively high rate — the 96th worst in the country — the city's incidence of property crime stands out even more. ... Indeed, the city had the country's 15th highest property crime rate in 2016

The overall crime rate in Tacoma is 138% higher than the national average. For every 100,000 people, there are 16.81 daily crimes that occur in Tacoma. Tacoma is safer than 3% of the cities in the United States. In Tacoma you have a 1 in 17 chance of becoming a victim of any crime.

Have you done the research for this city?They said Tacoma is the most violent city in Washington,I love you and want you to be happy. There are sooo many universities with the same opportunities.

How would you get around, does your friend drive? I did see how beautiful the area is but you just have to be careful I guess everywhere you go.

As you can see, she immediately invalidates my choice - something I was very truly wonderfully excited about - and sends me a message that triggers my anxiety. I should note that she did not allow me out of the house without her even when I was an adult and over 18. If I went somewhere she had to be there with me.

Ah, but now we come to today and the email that spurred this post to creation. The above emails were sent two days ago and I have yet to respond. The email below was sent just today.

Hi Michelle.

While I cannot apologize for what I said, It was not my intention to offend you in any way. I just went to google and typed in most dangerous city in the state of Washington and Tacoma popped up, that is out of 100 cities in the state.Okay, I know you say you have been there and all and you are no match for all of the evil there. God forbid, should something happen to you--you would be just another name and another number to them there is no much evil there they can't control it, I say to you just watch on a daily basis all of the crime that goes on in that sin city.

You better be praying about this cuz I don't think God would want you to put yourself in harms way--make a wiser choice, and God will bless you for it.Look at what happened to kobe bryant incident.... they met a very bad situation face to face and of course their was no way they could turn that around. My whole point of conversation.....sure you can do what you want bcuz you are an adult grown woman, but I would strongly advise you to pray to God about it and make a wise choice here, your life and future depends on right choices you make now.

What about University of Michigan in Ann Arbor or East Lansing University, Michigan University Kalamazoo, they are on the ten universities in Michigan. You need to reconsider your decision and think about your resourses you can get more help from family bcuz I have all kinds of family up there and I will be up there soon. You are no match for Tacoma Washington. I only say this bcuz you are my daughter and I don't want something really bad come out of this just bcuz you are trying to get an education behind you--this calls for wise decisions.

You may never speak to me again, but I just want to inform you that you need to be very very cautious here.

Love You Forever.

...

“You may never speak to me again.”

...

This is the last email I have read from her and it will remain the last email I will ever read from her. I also will not be sending her any emails ever again because you know what?

Her scared, anxious daughter Michelle Jean Anderson died and I’m what’s left - and I’m sick of her shit.

So, hello, everybody! My name is Andy Alex Anderson and my pronouns are he/him (or they/them if you panic and forget) and it’s a pleasure to meet you!

#everafterupdates #everafterrambles #original #welp okay this is poste dit's on the internet forever now #haaaa #okay #long post

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everyonesawhoregrace · 4 years

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O B S E S S I O N S - 04 “I’m Not Going Anywhere”

Her fingers danced along the piano. It's the crack of dawn, the beginning of a new day. Music flowed from the keys, dancing its way throughout the couples small home. The smell of camomile tea whisked with a hint of cinnamon.

Cleo hasn't slept very much, the overwhelming urge to hiccup as her acid reflux continued to punish her. She was tossing and turning in bed, unable to do anything but sit up and drink heaps of water.

It was a day after Arthur was over for dinner. A day after Tommy and Cleo slumped back into their chairs and dragged their sorry arses to clear up the table.

She was biting on her lip, recalling what happened only a few hours ago. She recalls Arthur's foul mouth, she recalls Tommy defending her.

Cleo's fingers moved like zipping bees, she was fast as she got lost in thought.

Her eyes watered as she kept on hearing Arthur's hurtful words. You ought to put a muzzle on that one, she's got a foul mouth like her mother.

I am nothing like her, she repeated over and over, trying to keep herself from crying but poor Cleo couldn't help herself.

It was perhaps, the biggest insecurity of hers. Her mum. Greta was frail, and weak, and an addict. She couldn't provide for her child, and it embarrassed Cleo more than anything seeing how well treated her fellow classmates were. Coming to school with full bellies and a clean clothes. She saw all the mums walking their children to school, kissing them away. Cleo didn't know that lifestyle, nearly every morning she'd have to step over her drunk mum to get to the door. She hated her mum, but she also loved her tremendously.

It was a twisted relationship, but it was something Cleo endured for years.

The memory of her mum, the way she'd choose morphine over her starving daughter. Fill her belly up with liquor, while Cleo was forced to suffer.

Cleo's hand fell over her belly, she swallowed, feeling her throat swell up. "I'll never be like her, little one. I promise you, your papa and I, we'll protect you..."

The sound of his screams jolts Cleo to her feet, she races down the hall, to their bedroom. He wails, he arms thrashing all over the place. He screams, begging for someone to help him. She instantly begins to shake, petrified for her husband.

What used to happen to her lover all the time, only happens once in a while. This night terror that didn't seem to go away. She would grab him, and shake him awake, assure him that he's safe. He's home.

She rushed to his aid, and coddled him. Cleo got on her knees, looking at him as she run her hand over his face. He was sweating, but it was chilly indoors.

"Tommy," She breathed, pressing her lips together. "Tom, wake up!" She shook him. "You're home! You're here, Tommy. You're here!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, thrashing. She tried to gather his arms in her hands, but he was too strong.

"Thomas please!" She begged, her getting louder, closing her eyes.

Finally, he had snapped out of the mines that he was suffocating in and gasped a breath. He sat up, grabbing his chest.

"Tommy," Cleo stood and sat down beside him. "Baby," her hands fell on his cheeks. "You okay?"

He stares blankly into her eyes. The two sit in silence as he catches his breath.

"Cleo..." He manages finally, breathlessly. I'm home.

He was stuck in the mines, it was an ongoing nightmare he had. Where it was him, alone, and the dirt around him tremors and it craves in on him.

"I'm just buried alive." He retells the story as she pours him a cup of tea. "It's like, I can breathe, I know I can breathe, but around me is just dirt. No sign of life. And I'm dying, suffocating, six-feet under, being crushed begging for help but no one can hear me..."

She catches a tear from her eyes as she sits down across from him. Rather than reaching for the cup of tea, he reaches for her hand.

"Did I scare you?" He leans in and wipes under her eye. "You cryin'?"

"Yes but-" She shakes her head, "Tommy, don't worry about me!" She sniffles and begins to cry all over again. Cleo wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his shoulder. "I just hate to see you hurting." She exhales, squeezing him, "I love you so much, baby."

He shuts his eyes, listening to the vibrations of her voice drum against his. Here is where home is. In her arms, fuck everything else. There's no one else in this world like Cleo. Not a single soul who'll listen the way she does.

"I love you so much more." He plants a soft kiss under her earlobe and tucks his head in her neck.

There's nothing better than being in her arms, he's certain of this. And she's just as positive about that too, he's such a good hugger.

But it's Cleo who pulls away first, out of curiosity she asks. "Are you feeling better?"

He glances down at her, his eyes a cloudy grey.

Finally, Cleo gets up, I know what'll help.

"Come on," She extends her hand, "Let's take a bath."

The two sit naked in their bath, it's Tommy against the tub, studying Cleo's back. He soaks her skin with the deliciously warm water, that has hints of lavender in it. He listens to her moan as he drags his teeth along her shoulder. He kisses her softly, unable to help himself. She giggles as he kisses the back of her neck, Cleo's always been ticklish.

She quickly pulls herself away, turning around to face him. The two now opposite to each other, looking at one another. He notices her nipples popping up above the water.

"I have to tell you something." He begins, submerging himself beneath the water. He comes back up, the steam rolls off of his body.

He stares intently at her before continuing. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't seriously considering taking up Arthur's offer in joining the Peaky Blinders."

Cleo's natural, and instinctual reaction would be to bicker at Tommy. Call him naive for thinking it was ok to join the Peaky Blinders. The mere thought of him joining the gang, it's borderline suicide!

"So, what's stopping you?" She asks, thinking she should probably have thanked him for being so transparent. It's a quality she always admired about Tommy, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was always honest, he didn't hide much. Unless it was for her own good.

"I don't want things between you and I to change." He murmurs, a trace of fear in his voice.

Her mouth dries as she digests his words.

He's right, ultimately, things between the two would change if he did join the gang. With a lot of money, the two could create a lot of problems. Not to mention, the lifestyle of Arthur and John was fuck women and get money. There was nothing substantial. They had a fully loaded pistol in one hand, and their dicks in the other!

Tommy had a future in front of him, the two were working towards that. Train horses, teach children, out one of them up in the Darby. Raise a family, be merry, and proud. Grow old someday and have their children take care of them. The two were working towards that! A life together, a good, meaningful life.

Cleo frowns, looking at her hands through the clear water. "Why do you want join them?" She pauses, before meeting his eyes. "Is it the money?"

He runs a wet hand through his hair. "Yes. And the instability, I don't want you to have to count your change at the market. God forbid our child struggles to afford a simple snack..."

"We can find the money in an easier, legal way, Thomas." She looks him straight in the eyes. "You saw how lost your brother looked yesterday..." She hated mentioning it, but it was true! Arthur had red around his eyes, he looked drunk and high.

"I'm just saying I need to support my family, and I trust myself enough to know that I'm not as weak as Arthur is..."

"What are you talking about?" She inhaled. Wow this conversation has taken a turn. "Baby," He's been really thinking about this. Damn it. "What's going on?"

His eyes blaze, and though he doesn't raise his voice, she can tell he's trying to rein in his temper.

Thomas swallows, "The bills are piling up, Cleo, we can barely afford a crib for the baby let alone groceries."

"Then I'll sell the gold I got from my mums friend."

"And what happens when that runs out?" He raises an eyebrow, challenging her.

"Then, then we find you a job in the city. I'll see if I can work-" She responds sternly.

His eyes narrow. "You're pregnant."

"You are not joining them!" She shouts.

Blue eyes watch her closely. Cleo. Thomas almost gives up, he wants to hold her. But Cleo looks up, her lips tilt downwards. She lets out a shaky breath, pressing her hand to her forehead. A tear rolls down her cheek.

"I nearly lost you when you left for France, Thomas. I nearly lost you. It was a dammed miracle that you came back to me. And now you want to join a gang whose motto is, 'don't fuck with us or else we'll blind youse'? Has it ever occurred to you that I have no idea what to do if there is no you?!"

Thomas sits there, petrified to say anything as she weeps. This whole pregnant this is still a shock to him, Cleo cries at everything. She overthinks way too much. Who the fuck said I was going anywhere?

He pulls in through the water and leaves no space between him and Cleo. He tilts her chin up, "I'm not going anywhere, ey?"

"You don't understand how much you mean to me..." She struggles to say, crying helplessly. She clings onto those words, wishing they'd wrap around his head before it's too late.

"Cleo, look at me,"

She does, wide-eyed and sad.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby, alright?"

She doesn't nod, doesn't frown. His eyes shine as he leans down and kisses her gently. Cleo feels herself responding automatically. She latches onto his body, matching her kisses with his. He grabs both sides of her head and kisses her deeply, devouring his mouth with hers. The atmosphere of the bathroom changes, from a rage and arguing, to pure sex.

Cleo gets on her knees as Tommy grabs her hips, she slowly eases into him without another thought. She gasps into his mouth, as he groans, closing his eyes. Clasping the baths ledge, Cleo moves up and down, with the help of Tommy's hands.

"Ahhhhh." She rocks back and forth against his cock, he fills her up, and she can't help but cry out his name. Finally, Thomas kisses her breasts, biting on her nipples.

"Please!" She cries out, begging for more.

Thomas listens and meets her thrusts with his own. Matching hers, each time. She leans down, kissing him firmly. "I'm so close..." She pours into his mouth.

Thomas can feel himself getting higher and higher. He grabs a handful of her hair and pulls, tilting her head back. Thomas kisses her neck, licking her, nibbling on her skin.

"Come for me..." He taunts, biting on her earlobe. "Come on baby,"

He tightens, as she freezes, and he continues. Thrusting harder and faster into her. Thomas doesn't stop as she obviously reaches her climax. But he realizes he should have because once he comes inside of her, she falls backwards and he has to catch her from falling.

"Oh my..." Her eyes open and she smiles all lopsided. "I don't think I can get out of this tub."

He chuckles, unplugging the sink. "I think you're due for a nap,"

She nods. "Good idea."

He carries his wife to their bed and tucks her in. She falls asleep instantly, sex is amazing, but with her being pregnant she wears out pretty easily. Thomas watches her sleep, smiling at her beauty. Her innocence.

"Hey," He whispers into her ear, coming out her hair. "I won't do it if you want to me okay? I love you."

#obsessions #everyonesawhoregrace

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years

Text

Love and Leather /part thirteen/

Word Count: 2.8k (I’m so sorry I got carried away)

A/N: if anyone wants to find/make gifs for me I would appreciate you forever. feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: language, angst

Taglist: @oskea93 , @brideofdraculana, @miserablecunt, @electradestiny, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @xstarryeyes, @fandomshit6000, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @anntheboneless, @tiranni, @brooklyn-antiques, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @awkwrdcait, @thatbandchick39, @countrygirlswonderland, @myheadisinvaded, @dillightfulpickle, @baiabouk, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @madsthegroupie, @balladblood, @martabastic, @hoop-diddy-doo, @romanticvengeance, @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @shinobi-nobi

I pulled into the gates of my moms house, sighing in relief that her car wasn’t parked out front.

I parked the car, jogged inside then began tip-toeing to the stairs.

“Vanity? Is that you?!” I heard my mom yell and I stopped before I got ahead, “Yeah?” I croaked, watching as she walked out of her office.

“Where the hell have you been all night!?” She marched over to me and gasped, her hands covering her mouth, “And what is all over your neck?!” She said, grabbing my face and tilting it upwards examining the love bites Nikki left on me.

“Is Greyson home?” I asked her, “Yes, and he told me you guys went to that concert! What in the world are you thinking Vanity!! Are you even thinking?!” Mom continued to yell in my face,

“Mom he wanted to go! You can’t shelter him forever.” Mom smirked, “I am not sheltering him. He just doesn’t need to be around that environment and those kinds of people Vanity! I am his mother I know what is best for him...did you let him drink?”

Yes.

“No mom, of course not.I didn’t I’m not an idiot.” I huffed, rolling my eyes, “We went to the concert and then he asked me to take him to a friends house afterwards so I did.” I lied to her and she tilted her nose up and nodded,

“And where did you go?” She asked while crossing her arms against her chest, “I Uh...I went to hang out with Tommy.” I told her without meeting her judgmental gaze, “And who is tommy?” She questioned me,

“The drummer of the band...” I trailed off while noticing my brother walking down the stairs noticing the bags under his eyes,

“Is that who did this?” She asked while jabbing her finger into the side of my neck, “Mom!” I shouted, gently smacking her hand away. “Then who did this to you? Why would you let anyone degrade your body like that.” She said in distress, “Mom you’re being dramatic! It’s none of your business!” I said sharply, snapping at her.

“Greyson...do you have any idea who could of done this to your sister?” Mom demanded him, his eyes darting at me while I mouthed the word No behind her back,

“I Uh...I-“ He stammered over his words, “You better tell me right now Greyson Dean Blackwood or so help me god I will stick my heel so far up your ass.” Mom threatened him, and my eyes went wide. She was legitimately pissed,

“It was Nikki.” My brother spat out, “Dude!!” I yelled at him, “I’m sorry!!” Greyson shouted back at me. Mom turns her attention back to me, a stern look on her face.

“And who is Nikki? Is he in this Motley Crue band?” She asked and I slowly nodded, “He’s just a guy, Mom. You’re making such a big deal out of this and it really doesn’t need to be!” I shouted,

“Not a big deal!? You’re going around whoring yourself out! Your dad is rolling over in his grave right now!” She yelled at me, taking me back in shock.

“I am not!! I haven’t had sex with a guy since Julian! You know nothing about him and you’re judging him!!” I yelled back, almost in tears having to repeat his name.

“I don’t have to know anything about him to know he is nothing but trouble! You are not to see him ever again, do you understand me Vanity!?” She yelled inching closer to my face.

“You can’t forbid me from seeing anyone! You know what? Fuck this house, fuck this company and fuck you. I’m leaving.” I yelled at her, only resulting in a slap to the face.

I held the side of my face and looked looked up at her. She looked mortified of what she just did, “Van...” she tried saying but I turned around, quickly walking up the stairs to my room.

Once I got to my room, I leaned against the locked door and took a few deep breaths in trying not to have a total freak out episode. I slowly kicked off my shoes and flopped down in bed face first and went to sleep not bothering to shower or get changed.

About three in the morning.

I was laying on my bedroom floor almost halfway finished through packing up my stuff. I had already booked my flight, which was in six hours. I couldn’t wait to be away from my mother and be back in Los Angeles. I haven’t left my room since Mom slapped me. If I did, I wouldn’t have been able to control my mouth or actions.

My thoughts were interrupted when there was a faint knock on the bedroom door. I perched myself up on my elbows and looked at it, “Come in!” I shouted quietly, but the knocking continued.

I got up and walked over to the door, “Jesus Christ I said-“ I immediately stopped talking and pulled him into my bedroom,

“Nikki! What the fuck are you doing here!” I yelled at him but he laughed, “That’s what I get? No ‘good to see you Sixx’?” He said with a smile, causing me to roll my eyes.

“How did you get on the property?! Forget that, how do you know where I live!” I quietly shouted, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Nikki shrugs, looking down at me. “I just asked some people where the oh so rich Blackwoods house is...or should I say mansion....this place is a fucking castle.” He said and I walked away from him and continued throwing stuff into my luggage, “More like a fucking prison.” I told him,

“That bad, huh?” He asked while taking off his jacket and sitting on my bed, “She freaked out, and slapped me.” I told him, Nikki’s eyebrows raising, surprised by her actions.

“Man, do all the woman in this family slap everyone or what?” He said while laughing, “Shut up! You’re gonna wake someone up.” I told him and he pretended to zip his mouth shut.

“Why are you even here?” I asked him while going over to my dresser, pulling more clothes out.

“I dunno.” Was all he said with a shrug, I looked at him and squinted, “Are you drunk? High?” I questioned him, “Actually Vanity, I do know how to stay sober.” He said in a matter of fact type of tone.

“Right.” I blankly said, causing him to crack up in a huge grin, “I’m just messing with you, I’m fucking coked out.” He said while pulling out a sack, and I quickly grabbed it from him, “No! Not while my mom is down the hall!”

“Oh c’mon, Van!” He groaned while laying back on my bed, “maybe I should just go introduce myself to your mom.” He said as if he was contemplating the idea,

“Nikki, you broke into her house and trespassed on her property, she will have a fucking heart attack.” I told him, causing Nikki to let out a small laugh,

“Okay so maybe I did jump the fence, and maybe I did pick the lock at the front door...but I just wanted to see how you were.” He explained and I smiled to myself while folding clothes.

“My own personal Romeo.” I said and he laughed, “Thats fucked up, they ended up committing suicide together, we aren’t doing that.” He said while getting on the floor, laying next to me.

“We? I didn’t know there was a We.” I joked with him,

“I didn’t mean it like that obviously, you couldn’t handle being with me.” He said smugly, causing me to laugh.

“And how do you know that?” I questioned him while looking down at his face , Nikki already looking up at me. “Cause you’re you, and I’m me...that’s why. We come from two very opposite ends of the spectrum.” He replied and I nodded.

“And you say we’re not Romeo and Juliet.” I laughed and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, “when did rock and roll bad boy Nikki Sixx become such a softy?” I asked him,

“I’m not doll face, but I am for you.” He said and took my hand and placed a kiss on it,

“Vanity.” There was a soft knock on the door as I heard my moms voice, “just a minute!” I yelled back, “you gotta hide!” I said while pushing Nikki into my closet, slamming the door, a big goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Yeah?” I said out of breath and fixing my hair while facing her, “You okay? I thought I heard talking.” She said while entering my room and looking around, “No, just me.” I told her while sitting on my bed,

“I’m sorry for earlier, I am your mother and I needed to be in control of the situation, that is my fault.” She said while sitting down on my bed next to me. My eyes glancing to the closet every now and then, hoping he doesn’t make a noise.

“And don’t worry, when you go back you’ll still have access to all of your accounts. I just want you to be careful Vanny.” I stood up in frustration,

“I don’t understand! I was there for two years before you ever took an interest in what I was doing there. And then I come home a year ago and tell you what I’ve been doing and you flip out!” I raised my voice and she sighed,

“Just be careful of who you surround yourself with. I adore Lucia and Tonya but these guys-“

“These guys are my friends mom....you’re basing an opinion of them off what the damn television and magazine say.” I tried explaining to her but she wasn’t buying it,

“So you’re telling me they don’t drink heavily, do illicit drugs? Nor do they have sex with various women?” She question and I looked away, letting out a laugh.

“Exactly my point, Vanity. Why would you even want to be friends with them? Are you doing drugs with them too? Are you sleeping with them?” She continues asking way too many questions for my liking.

“Mom, would you just stop!” When I shouted at her something fell in my closet,

“What was that?” Mom asked while getting up and walking over to the closet. I ran both of my hands through my hair, panicking.

Mom opened up the door and let out a startled yell, “Who the hell is this?” Mom said while dragging Nikki out of the door by his shirt.

“Uh...uh...that’s uh...” I couldn’t get a sentence in out of my mouth, “I’m uh Nikki...Nikki Sixx.” He said while sticking his hand out, but mom never shook it.

“Why are you in my house?” Mom questioned him, “Ma’am, I just wanted to make sure she was okay, she had a rough night and day.” Nikki explained,

“Rough, as in partying?” I sighed and sat down on my ottoman while I watched them bicker,

“Vanity is a big girl, she can take care of herself. Myself and my band mates always look out for her whenever she’s with us.” Nikki tried explaining to my mom.

“So you get her drunk and give her god knows what just to degrade her body! Real good friend you have here, Vanity!” Mom yelled while looking at me.

“I didn’t do anything to her that she didn’t fucking want me to.” Nikki snapped at her, causing me to quickly get up and get in between them,

“Stop, please Nikki.” I whispered while putting my hands on his waist, lightly pushing him back. “I would never do anything like that to your daughter, I care about her.” Nikki said while putting his arm around me, trying to get me to move but I didn’t budge.

“Oh Yeah? And how many girls do you tell that to on a daily basis?” Mom said with arrogance oozing out of her mouth.

I looked up and saw Nikki’s lips form into that infamous smirk of his.

But mom didn’t stop there, “Keep whatever diseases you’ve gotten from those groupies to your self, my innocent Vanity doesn’t need any other problems. “ Mom said, causing me to immediately turn around, “Mom!” I yelled, but she just shook her head.

“If only you knew..” Nikki stopped himself and I stood by them, “You’d know she’s not as innocent as you think she is.” Nikki said, a devilish smirk plastered across his pink lips.

Nikki shook his head, an angry smirk on his face. He lets out a scoff with a slight laugh, while glaring at my mom. “Innocent? Yeah, okay. Hey Van, wanna tell your mother how you were the one begging to be fucked by ME, last night? Oh, and before i forget to mention, after the hours of partying, doing lines, AND your little Jack chugging contest with Tommy? Ring a bell, sweets? “ Nikki kept going on and on, and I could feel my face getting paler by the second. ‘yeah, let’s see who can finish an entire bottle of jack the fastest without puking! Loser does coke off that girls tits. ‘ Nikki said, mocking my voice.

Moms hand instantly came up and struck Nikki in the face, “Mom!!” I yelled out, quickly looking over trying to check on Nikki.

Nikki’s hand touched his face in somewhat shock. “Are you okay?” I whispered, trying to put my hand on his face. He looked back up, anger present by the darkness of his hazel eyes. He let out an angry laugh and shook his head. “Wow, like mother like fucking daughter. “ Nikki said out loud, his eyes locking on mine, but I couldn’t help but start laughing.

“I’m so sorry.” I said, unable to control myself. Nikki’s scowl slowly started turning into a smile, as mom watched us both.

“This is just fantastic.” I continued, trying to catch my breath and wiping away a tear, “Nothing about this is funny, Vanity.” Mom stated and I looked at her,

“I hope I never have to see you again.” Mom said glaring at Nikki. I bit my lip, trying to keep in a laugh, “Same to you, Mrs.Blackwood.” Nikki said, “I will see you in the morning.” Mom said and left the room, closing the door on the way out.

“I’m gonna kill you.” I said while shoving him, but he just laughed and wrapped me up in his arms, “Your Mom should also learn to watch her mouth around me, just like you should.” He said and I rolled my eyes, breaking free from his embrace.

“She needs to know the real you, Vanity.” Nikki said while laying down on my bed, “I agree, but she doesn’t need to know everything like what I do or what I put inside of me like blow or all the alcohol.” I told him and he sat up on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to come over to him so I did.

“What?” I asked curiously while looking at him, “How about we finish what we started earlier, and I’ll tell you what we can put inside of you.” He said in a deep voice, almost making my knees buckle. He wrapped his arms around me while trailing his hands down my ass, “Thats a hard no, Rockstar.” I said while shoving away from him, but he planted one hard smack on my ass, which made me moan, “Oh?” Was all he said with a smirk on his face.

“You should go, we’ve wasted enough time and I still need to finish packing.” I told him and he groaned,

“Alright, I’ll see you when I’m back home.” He stated while looking down at me, but I had to look away from him, but he put his hand on the side of my face and made me look at him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Van.” He said, eyes full of lust. I sighed while putting my hand on top of his, and gently rubbing my thumb across it. He lowered his head and gave me a kiss, sending volts of energy through me. He pulled away and I slowly opened my eyes.

“Goodnight Doll.” He said and I smiled at him, “Goodnight rockstar.” I told him and he gave me a wink and walked out of my room.

I fell on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. I was feeling jitters in my stomach. I sighed, as much as I hate to admit it, my mom is right. I’ve seen how many girls Nikki and the boys have been with and have only heard the god forsaken things they did with them. I know my mom has the best intentions for me, but i’ve gotten this far without her, and I’ve been okay.

#the dirt #the dirt fan fic #motley crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fan fic #douglas booth #motley crue fan fic #the dirt movie #1980s #fan fiction #writing #my story #my idea #Texas

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