#i am never ever ever fucking updating my actual phone and i guess whenever i kill it ill just fucking. get a huge SD card and replace the
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hey uh anyone else with samsung have bixby, suddenly, and without your knowledge or permission, turned on and all the permissions given and it wont let you deny the permissions, it wont let you disable or force stop the app, it wont let you remove the app, or in any way deny it access to your phone or data?
and i only found out bc when i went to turn the phone off, it wouldnt turn off bc inexplicably, at some point, it changed settings so that pressing and holding the Power Button would Wake Up Bixby instead of, you know, showing me options for powering off the device?
Image IDs in alt text and under the cut
[First image ID: a picture of a samsung galaxy A71 phone with settings open. The settings are for what happens when you press the "side key" or power button. there are 2 options, pressing and holding the power button will either "wake bixby" or it will bring up the "power off menu". the option for wake bixby is selected. end of image ID]
[Second image ID: the same phone as is in the first image, but now with screen showing the "camera permissions" settings for the Bixby Voice app. The options are "allow only while using the app" "ask every time" and "deny". The setting "allow only while using the app" is selected, and all the options are greyed out in a way that indicates it is not an option to change this setting to deny this permission. Underneath the greyed out options is small text reading "Device requires this permission to operate." end of image ID]
[Third image ID: the same phone as is in the first 2 images, but now the settings are opened to location access permissions for the Bixby voice app. It has the same options as the 2nd image, and "allow only while using this app" is selected in this one as well, and the options are again, all greyed out to show that it is not possible to change or remove this permission for this app. This one also has text reading "Device requires this permission to operate" end of image ID]
#toy txt post#toy pic post#image id in alt text#samsung#samsung galaxy#samsung galaxy A71#bixby#bixby voice#samsung bixby#data harvesting#privacy#good news: this is not my actual phone i dont really use it and my actual one i do use still appears to have bixby locked the fuck down#bad news: hey what the fuck samsung#uhh more info this this is updated to like android 11 or whatever. the article i found on removing it seems to be.#i have to sign into bixby and turn everything off from inside the app or something???#so thats. awesome. i love the future i love the future i love technology im not going to chew on this phone till my teeth bleed /s#this is very normal cool and good#i am never ever ever fucking updating my actual phone and i guess whenever i kill it ill just fucking. get a huge SD card and replace the#screen in the s7 and switch back to that one and limp its little frankenstein zombie ass to the end of humanity#i cannot stress enough i did not allow these permissions i did not turn this shit on and i dont remember being asked#i usually keep this phone completely off anyway and i dont think this shit was turned on the last time i had it on#so idk what the Fuck happened besides samsung getting up to some absolute fuckery#and the comments section on the samsung website. ppl acting like this is normal? is this normal? yalls voice assistants have all perms on#and are unavailable and unturnoffable??? die
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For the kisses prompts - #22 for Malex please 🧡
And thank you so much for finding the planetary alinement sequel fic for me 🧡🧡🧡
22. kisses in the rain
Alex is on the phone with Forrest, who calls him periodically every couple of days to talk about what he's doing, and Alex usually pays attention, or pretends to pay attention, but today he can't stop looking out of the window, at the rolling clouds, lighting up with flashes of lightning, the thunder rolls loudly, shaking the very vibrations of his house.
He watches the next flash of lightning and counts the seconds between it and the loud thunder.
Still a few minutes away, he thinks.
He's startled out of his thoughts by a loud knock on his door, and he hears Forrest, sounding a little pissed off, like he's been trying to get his attention but Alex isn't responding.
He picks the phone up, takes it off speaker, and puts it to his ear, mouth open to speak, but then the banging on the door sounds again, and Isobel Evans' voice, of all people sounds out, loud enough that it would have probably been picked up by the speaker.
"Alex! I know you're in there. I don't care if you're balls deep in that Nazi obsessed blue haired twink, we need to talk!"
"I have to go," Alex says, and hangs the phone up on Forrest asking him what's going on, and winces slightly, before he shrugs and drops his phone back on the counter.
He gets up from the couch, reaching for his crutch, since he hadn't been expecting any visitors, and starts to make his way to the door.
Isobel, of course, doesn't have the decency to let him open the door. She opens his locked door, practically blasting it off its hinges and she stalks into the house, eyes finding Alex immediately.
"Where is he?" She demands, stalking forward, one hand aloft, eyes sharp, like she's getting ready to pry the information out of his head if he doesn't answer fast enough.
"Who?" Alex asks, because he's well versed in Isobel enough to know that if she was talking about Forrest it would be in a mocking tone, not one that is tinged with desperation.
"Michael," she says in an obvious tone, and just hearing his name makes Alex's heartbeat spike. "He's been missing for days, and he only did that whenever he was holed up with you."
Alex shakes his head, feeling anxiety and worry bleed into him, "I haven't seen Michael since he walked out of Pony during my set, making it very clear what he thought about my song."
Isobel gives him an incredulous look, but Alex isn't sure what part of his statement she's having trouble believing.
"Over the last year the most contact we've had was text messages when he needed information, so if he's fucked off somewhere it definitely wasn't with me."
Isobel shakes her head, and she looks more irritated than anything, "God save me from my fucking oblivious brothers."
She turns to look back at Alex, "Max is dying. His new heart is failing, and he's known the whole time, and just let us know a few weeks ago. Michael isn't taking it well, and I thought that he'd come to you, but I'm guessing he knows about the Nazi obsessed blue haired twink that periodically warms your bed-"
"He has a name, you know?" Alex says, interrupting her, but Isobel continues speaking like he hadn't spoken.
"-which would explain his dive into the negative spectrum of emotions when he had been feeling pretty hopeful and anticipating your arrival."
Alex blinks at her, feeling confused, "He was hopeful?"
Isobel shakes her head at him, "But I was wrong. I'm wasting my time, because he'd never come here after a rejection."
"Rejecti-?" Alex starts to ask, feeling even more lost than before, but Isobel just turns around and heads back out of his house without even a wave of goodbye.
The slamming of the door coincides with a rumble of thunder, making Alex jump a little.
He hears his phone ringing back where he left it, and he knows that it's going to be Forrest.
A small part of him wants him to go back and answer the phone and explain about ex sort of sisters-in-law who don't know how to wait for someone to open the door, but there is an increasingly louder part of him that is yelling at him that he knows exactly where Michael is, that instead of offering his sort of boyfriend, sort of not boyfriend, any explanations, he should go and demand one from Michael instead.
Alex nods his head sharply and then turns to head to his room. If he's going out into that storm that's brewing, he's going to need to prepare himself.
-
Alex finds Michael at their spot off the Desert View dirt road that leads from town to Fosters Ranch. The truck is hardly visible to the road, but Alex knows exactly where it is.
Alex doesn't pay too much attention as he carefully parks his car next to the truck, and he turns off the car without looking to make sure that Michael was there.
He clenches his hands around the steering wheel and breathes in deeply, and then breathes out slowly.
And then he shakes his head and tells himself to stop being nervous or scared or whatever he was being right now, it was just Michael.
Alex lets go of the steering wheel, and gets out of the car, closing the door with a slam that gets swallowed up by the thunder that sounds immediately after the flash of lightning.
Alex breathes in deeply and closes his eyes at the smell of ozone filling the air.
Alex loves thunderstorms and when it rains so hard the smell of it permeates everything. It makes him sad and melancholy, but also fills him with a mellow sort of happiness.
It's Michael, in a scent that Alex can find anywhere. It's not as good as the real thing, but it helped whenever Alex faltered during the last year.
He looks at the truck, searching for Michael, staring into the cab of the truck, and jumping a little when he finds him sitting on the tailgate.
He looks like he hasn't moved in a while, and he doesn't even twitch when the thunder crashes again.
Alex takes him in for a moment. His face is being covered by his hat, but his clothes looked nicer than anything that Alex has ever seen him wear. Even in the dim light, he can tell that his jeans have no holes, and the sweater he's wearing actually looks soft, and like it actually fits him.
It makes something warm and fuzzy curl in the pit of his stomach, that Michael is doing good, that he's happy and well. Well, he's not really happy right now, if Isobel is to be believed, but from the small, unasked for updates that Kyle gives him whenever they meet up for beers, he knows that Michael hasn't been miserable or drinking like a fish or getting into bar fights or dating anyone.
Alex shakes his head to get rid of the last thought, because he knows better than to hope for anything. If the last three years, since he came back to Roswell the first time have taught him anything, it was that Michael was over him, and Alex just needed to get over it.
Which was much easier said than done.
Alex had thought that he had been making steps towards that, but he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling just from proximity.
Maybe this was a mistake.
As soon as he thinks the words, Michael turns and looks at him. His lips are parted like he was going to speak, and then he seems to realize that Alex was the one standing there, and not Isobel or Max.
Their eyes lock, and Alex feels his heart skip several beats, before it starts racing, matching his quickening breaths.
Lightning flashes and thunder crashes as they look at each other, and Alex has a feeling like something mystical, something alien is about to happen.
Alex walks closer to the truck and Michael doesn't move or say anything, just continues to stare at him, eyes too big, like he's not sure that Alex is real.
Alex sits down next to him and the truck moving up and down with Alex's weight is what snaps Michael's gaze away from him.
"Hi," Alex says, and his voice comes out breathless and quivering, but he pushes forward anyway. "It's good to see you."
"What are you doing here, Alex?" Michael asks, the question falling out of his mouth almost as soon as Alex finishes speaking.
"Isobel came to see me," he says, and Michael scoffs, looking at Alex and quickly away. "She said you were missing, and she thought you were at my place, and it wasn't until she left that I realized I knew exactly where you were."
Michael shakes his head, scoffing again, as he turns to give Alex a sardonic look.
"That doesn't answer the question. What did Isobel let slip 'accidentally' that made you come all the way over here, when you haven't bothered with a hello since you've been back?"
Alex bristles immediately at the implications in his tone, getting defensive, "I don't owe you anything, Guerin."
"I'm not expecting anything from you, Manes," Michael drawls, a mean smirk on his mouth.
Alex scoffs, "Really? Because it sure seems like you were expecting something."
Michael looks away at that, but Alex is just gearing up.
"Which is the part of all of this that is confusing me. I understand you coming out here and wanting to be alone because your brother is dying, again," Michael flinches at the words, and Alex wants to reach out and comfort him somehow, but instead he keeps talking.
"What I don't understand is you being hopeful about us and taking me being with someone else as a rejection. Michael, you were the one who ended things between us. You pushed me away and reminded me at every turn that while I wasn't like my family, I also wasn't what you wanted."
Michael is looking at him now, eyes wet with tears, brow furrowed, and he's shaking his head a little, like Alex is speaking about something that he doesn't understand.
He doesn't say anything in the lull of Alex's flow of speech, so Alex keeps talking.
"I am sorry, you know," he says. "About the song. I wasn't expecting you to be there when I was performing it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"What?" Michael asks, sounding disbelieving, and he fully turns, tilting his head up a little so that he can see Alex's face clearly. "Why would you think that I was uncomfortable?"
"You walked in while I was in the middle of singing, and you left the second you realized exactly what the song was about. In conjunction with the fact that you'd just gotten your heart broken, I know you weren't walking into the bar expecting a declaration of love, and I'm sorry that I-"
"Alex," Michael says in a low voice, lowering his head just a little. "Stop apologizing."
Alex opens his mouth to speak, but stops when Michael reaches up and takes his hat off, tossing it to the side and ruffling a hand through his hair.
Without the hat, it's almost like a strip of armor that Michael had been wearing has come off, and he looks at Alex intently, "That's not why I left."
"Oh," Alex says, deflating. "Then why did you leave?"
Michael huffs out a humorless laugh, looking away.
"I thought I was doing what was best for us at the time. Maria had just broken up with me, and while I wasn't ready to jump into a relationship with you, I wanted things that I knew were selfish. And then I saw that Nazi obsessed blue haire-"
"So she got that from you?" Alex interrupts him, giving Michael an exasperated look.
Michael just shrugs unrepentant.
"I saw him there, watching you sing, and I just, I didn't think that in that moment, if given the choice, you'd pick me, not after everything that happened. So I left, because I wanted to give you the space to heal and to date whoever you wanted. But then I heard you were coming back home, and I don't know, I guess I couldn't stop myself from hoping that you were coming back for me."
Alex just stares at him, eyes wide, feeling like someone just turned his entire world upside down. He swallows hard, not really knowing how to respond.
"Michael, I-"
But Michael shakes his head, getting to his feet and standing in front of Alex.
"You don't owe me anything, remember?"
Alex just shuts his eyes, and inhales deeply.
After a couple of seconds where Michael just keeps staring at him, and the storm brews ever closer, thunder so loud and near that it reverberates through Alex's bones, he speaks again.
"I was ready, you know," he says, trying really hard to sound casual and failing. Alex opens his eyes to stare at him, but Michael is looking up at the sky, the flashes of lightning caught in his eyes.
"Or I thought that I was,” he continues, shaking his head and then looking back at Alex and jumping when he sees that Alex is looking at him. “I even went to meet you at the bus stop.”
“So that was you?” Alex proclaims, jumping down from the tailgate.
Michael looks embarrassed, cheeks flushed red, and it reminds him so much of the Michael that he fell in love with that he loses his breath for a moment.
“You noticed huh?” Michael says, making a face.
“I swore that I saw you through the bus window, but when I actually looked there was no one there, so I thought I just imagined it.”
“Well, when I saw your boyfriend there, I made myself scarce,” Michael says, a bitter tone to his voice, but he looks apologetic, so at least he’s self aware enough to know that he has nothing to actually be bitter about.
“Not my boyfriend,” Alex says automatically, and Michael just stares at him a bit incredulously.
Alex rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Like you’ve never had a booty call, Guerin.”
Michael raises both eyebrows at that, and gives Alex a mock shocked look, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
But he ruins the effect by smirking, and Alex can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter, the tension of the last couple of minutes draining out of him.
He’d thought maybe things between them would just be weird and stilted and painful, but so far it hasn’t felt anything like that. It felt easy.
Alex stops laughing and just grins at Michael, who is just staring at him with a look that Alex is very familiar with.
Alex’s smile dims a little as he continues to stare at Michael who breathes in deeply like he’s steeling himself for something.
“So, not your boyfriend, huh?” he says, taking a step forward.
Alex inhales sharply at the words, and licks his lips, shaking his head.
“So, if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”
Alex exhales a small disbelieving breath, his pulse racing and fingers tingling. Michael has never asked to kiss him before. He’s always just done it like he’s afraid that Alex will tell him no if he dares to ask.
Michael looks away, probably thinking that Alex meant that as a no, so Alex takes a step forward, and Michael freezes, eyes snapping back towards Alex.
“Why don’t you do it, and find out?”
Michael moves forward like he thinks that Alex is going to change his mind at any second, fingers pressed to Alex’s face as he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth to Alex’s.
The move makes them stagger backwards a little, but Alex hardly notices as he pushes his fingers into Michael’s hair and holds on tight, keeping him close as he kisses him back.
The storm breaks at the same time, and the rain falls hard and cold, pelting them and soaking them almost immediately, but neither Alex or Michael care as they continue to kiss.
Michael digs his fingers harder into Alex’s jaw and kisses him harder, parting his lips and licking at Alex’s mouth. Alex wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulder, pulling himself in closer and opening his mouth to Michael’s.
Michael kisses him deep and just a little bit desperate, and Alex loses himself in it, thinking, this, this, this.
This is what he’s been missing. This is what’s always missing. Michael kisses him like Alex was created specifically for Michael to kiss. And Alex can’t help but surrender to the touch.
After what feels like forever and not long enough, Michael pulls away, panting heavily.
Alex blinks rapidly a few times, before he realizes that his vision is blurry because of the rain that is pouring down on top of them.
He looks up at the sky as lightning lights up the clouds and thunder rumbles, and he closes his eyes breathing in deep. Michael drops his forehead to Alex’s cheek, pressing his face along the side of Alex’s face and just breathing.
Alex just tightens his hold on Michael and breathes with him.
#malexprompts2021#this one came out longer than i was expecting#but oh well#im not tagging this as a cheating fic cause 🌳lex isnt exclusive which means alex can kiss whomever he wants#hope you like this!!#and sorry for the delay!!!
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Song: Cheater by The Vamps
Summary: Kuroo's skills in reading a game has been expanded when he meets your boyfriend.
Pairings: Tetsuro Kuroo x fem! reader
Word count: 3.3k
Content, tags: mentions of cheating, a few cuss words, childhood friends to lovers!
A/N: this was such an impulsive moment🧍 Kuroo has been consuming my brain so here ya go fellow simps
“Am I obligated to?”
“It was his request, Tetsu.”
Kuroo groans while you stare at him wondering what’s so wrong about meeting with your boyfriend. He sees your clueless reaction but he sets it aside knowing you wanted this to happen in the first place. Although you didn’t push him, your boyfriend insisted. It was a sweet gesture because he took the time to understand that Tetsuro to you is just a friend and nothing else. Disregarding his jealousy of the intimidating volleyball player, he initiated the hang out.
Meanwhile, the proud captain was loathing the hours before he could even step into your boyfriend's house.
If you could pick one of the words to describe Kuroo, obviously one of them is self-aware.
Which is the antonym of what you have under your own dictionary.
Kuroo always puts his best during a match and he wasn’t looked upon for no reason. Of course, he’s observant out of the court too. So, when that boyfriend of yours came in to the picture—he wasn’t exactly keen on befriending him. All he can do is accept whatever that decision was because he did catch multiple glances where you were smiling and maybe seeing that put him at ease making him less worried with your relationship.
But his intuition is stronger than the actual belief that your boyfriend is all too good.
Besides, as a best friend, it was technically his job to be suspicious of the boy.
“I’ll go over there after practice.” You smile at his words before linking your arm with his as you both walk to your class.
“Hey, by Saturday can we play again?” You asked him while he looks down on you with a chuckle, loving that you had to ask even when you didn’t need to do.
“Why’d you ask anyway? Of course.”
It was admirable that your path of being with each other actually started with volleyball. At the age of 9 after a ball fled into your yard from the Kozume residence, Kuroo had knocked politely on the wall asking if he could get the ball back. Seeing that the wall felt like a building to you, you took the ball out of curiosity before going over to the place next door and handing him the ball.
Wherein Kuroo had to pause when he saw you.
Ever since then, you played volleyball with the two. You three joined Nekoma’s volleyball teams, even practicing together. You were thankful to have them not only they were tremendous at play but also, they were your most trusted friends and their judgement is always important. So, when you got into a relationship—it was a mix of everything.
Kenma was subtly supportive. He knew you were capable of picking what you deserve and if that boy doesn’t cause any trouble, then the setter is all for it. Kuroo, on the other hand, was hesitant.
If only he wasn’t in love with you—then maybe he could’ve given the poor boy some sign of approval.
After years of falling, his chances were already taken the moment you said your feelings were growing for a certain boy from your class. Though you were classmates with Kuroo, he eyed every boy that could be the suspect. At first, he was just curious because he hasn’t seen you interact with them before but then the second time was more on the worried side when he wondered what could’ve been missing from him that he had to find in another guy for answers.
Kenma had to assure him at some point. The blonde noticed Kuroo’s feelings ever since he saw the older boy teach you volleyball without him. He could evidently see the blush on his friends face whenever you’d land a compliment to Tetsuro. It even surprised Kenma when he knew Kuroo was still attached to his feelings after years of knowing you. He at least needed to say something before it takes a toll on him.
“You’re actually going, it’s funny.” The setter mocks though the blocker knew what he meant. How can he agree this easily anyway? He knew it’d make you happy but making room for someone after a practice instead of resting isn’t really a good circumstance.
“I know, I know. I’d be home in the next five minutes.” Kuroo jokes but when the practice finally ends, he kept his attention to his phone when he received the message for his location. He sighs tiredly while Kenma stifles a laugh.
“Don’t go then.”
“As if that wasn’t my plan beforehand.” Kenma rolls his eyes but bids goodbye to Kuroo knowing they’re not able to walk home together.
God, he was irritated.
It was rather a small thing to be pissed off about. Who knows? It could end well with the two of them but that stupid intuition is what’s dragging his feet. How could he ignore it anyway? Murmurs were like rumors that spread like wildfire when gossip has never been this good so when he heard a tiny conversation of a certain girl meeting with your boyfriend—he doesn’t know what held him back from throwing a punch to him right then and there but perhaps it was because you can’t judge too quickly. Rumors were rumors. If he believed it right away then it meant he was feeding off of the possibility that you’d be single again but he doesn’t think like that. His main reason was that he couldn’t bear to see you cry over a guy who simply didn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy—especially from you.
And right at the front of his door, a pair of a cheerleader's shoes were there.
You being a volleyball player and the shoes didn’t exactly connect.
“I’ll see you next time then?”
“Saturday?”
“I can’t. My— Y/N is making me play with her and that captain Kuroo.”
“You said you broke up with her!”
“Look- I will just wait will ya?”
And he’s heard enough.
Go inside, Tetsuro.
Defend Y/N.
Beat him.
But I can’t act on my own.
Gritting his teeth with a tight grip on the sling of his bag, he makes a forced decision.
Kuroo doesn’t even hesitate to walk away now. His pace is way heavier and faster compared to his slow ones before. He wished he carried a volleyball so he could directly throw it to his conniving face. He would’ve hit it like Oikawa during a power serve and scream incoherent profanities as he lands a punch or two. Without Kenma, the possibilities were endless when he couldn’t be held back.
The moment he enters his room, he immediately reaches for his phone and calls for Kenma since the rage was getting out of hand and he can’t focus on anything else apart from beating the heck out of your cheater of a boyfriend- well soon to be ex considering that he could never let you stay with him for another second. He walks around his room wondering which one was the best options to let you know as the setter has yet to answer his call.
“Fuck.” He mutters at the exact same time that Kenma finally picks up.
“What-”
“He’s cheating on Y/N.”
“Well shit.”
Kenma pauses his game once the words ring in his ears. He too feels the anger bubble inside him but soon it was replaced by worry when he realizes how unfortunate it was for Kuroo to be the one to witness it and actually be the person to face you with such a heavy topic.
“How are you gonna tell her?” He asks but Kuroo bites his lip at the question he’s been wanting to avoid. It was inescapable though. You were closer to him—too close that you two relied on each other to no end and would be each other's comfort at needed times. It was difficult for the both of you.
“He’s planning to break up with her on Saturday and she- fuck I don’t know what to do.” The troubled boy admits while Kenma sighs not finding a win in both situations or any of the options he and Kuroo thought of.
“Y/N will believe you. You just have to give her time when she denies it at first, I guess.” Kenma suggests while Kuroo runs a hand to his hair.
“God, I fucking hate him.”
“Who is it?”
“A fucking cheerleader— how low.” Tetsuro couldn’t sit straight. Every inch of his body was telling him to find your boyfriend and show him what a waste of energy he was. It had been three months since you introduced him and how does he gain that much of a confidence to cheat at such an early stage of your relationship? Was three months a normal pace to be bored? Too bored that he chose a cheerleader to make up for that ‘blandness'. God, if Kuroo was in that relationship—cheating could never be an option. How could he? He loved you too much that having a chance wasted like that is too big to risk or experience.
“Talk to him tomorrow.” Kenma says while Kuroo held his breath when he realizes how the tension would reek between him and your boyfriend.
“Yeah but-“
The notification sound on his phone echoed through the room and when he slides up to see whose it from, he sighs when it was from you.
Least annoying: how’d it go???
“Y/N messaged me.” He updates the blonde as his fingers hovered the keyboard wondering what lie was the most believable even if he felt guilty to do so but after deleting multiple answers, he just couldn’t t do it.
“We just have to talk to her tomorrow. I feel like she needs us more now—fucking prick of a boyfriend.” Kenma comments with spite in his voice. It wasn’t the first time where he cared too much that he too wanted to join Kuroo in a fit of rage to beat your boyfriend but Kenma is cautious of your emotions and thinks that when he does join in on the fight, it’d only bring you more stress.
But he can’t lie and say throwing a punch to the lying boy wasn’t going to bring him satisfaction.
“Okay. I have to go and think this through.” He bids goodbye to Kenma before hanging up and lying down on his bed with his mind racing nonstop—forgetting to text you in the midst of panic and rage. You didn’t mind the lack of reply, you knew he wasn’t really interested in going in the first place and he must’ve been exhausted from practice as well so you took a nap early.
Meanwhile, your best friend faced a sleepless night.
Kuroo and Kenma were caught off guard when first period ended and you were yet to arrive.
Does she know?
The break came in and there still wasn’t a sign from you but as they ate, a certain hand falls on Kuroo’s shoulder making the anger between him and Kenma ignite once they see your boyfriend.
“Hey, you didn’t stop by yesterday.” Your boyfriend informs him while Yaku and the rest of the team wonder what’s got their captain looking like he radiated flames around him. Kuroo then removes the hand from his shoulder while Kenma nudges the tense boy from losing control out in the cafeteria.
“I was tired,” he pauses to find words that wouldn’t just expose him right then and there, “I couldn’t make it.”
Your boyfriend nods, a sign that he was thankful that Kuroo didn’t come to destroy the time he shared with the cheerleader.
“Well, we got Saturday to catch up. I’ll see you then!” He leaves with a sigh of relief while Kuroo stands up from his table, unable to contain it anymore but two hands held him back. He turns to see Yaku and Kenma holding his arm as he hesitates to follow what they want him to do. He then takes a deep breath and sits down while the two sighed that Kuroo managed to stop.
“I don’t know what’s happening but you can’t just do it here.” Yaku says making Kuroo remain silent. Kenma agrees but he too felt the urge to follow his furious friend.
“Sorry.” Kuroo whispers and Yaku nods not pushing the topic any further but he’s got a clue on what could’ve happened. Seeing their captain in this state certainly was more than a duel between him and your boyfriend. Of course, they knew about his feelings for you so connecting a few dots, Yaku realizes how bad it was.
Classes went on and still no sign of you making the worry rise more between the two. By the time practice came on, the two expresses their frustration through volleyball and the rest of their teammates wonder why their play that night felt like they were in a serious match.
But they were playing a difficult role of being honest with you.
When Saturday rolled in, Kuroo was already at the place you told him to meet. Beforehand, he warns Kenma not to come knowing it’s more on his responsibility and the blonde obeyed him because he too wasn’t ready to face a confrontation like that but Kenma is more than ready to comfort you once the terrible news was given to you.
“Hey!” You greeted him with a smile while he stands up from his sit and hugs you immediately catching you by surprise. With a laugh, you hugged him back wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer hesitant to let your smile fall.
Then he notices how you were unaccompanied making him pull away seeing the opportunity to tell you while he wasn’t there but he still wasn’t ready.
“Y/N-”
“Hey babe, didn’t know you were already here but let’s play some volleyball!” He shouts with a façade of excitement. You smile at Kuroo before staying by his side instead of teaming up with your own boyfriend.
“One versus two huh?” Your boyfriend taunts while you serve the ball as he receives, initiating the start of the game. Every spike or receive had Kuroo send knives to his way with his sharp and accusing eyes. The lonesome of a player envied the way Kuroo caught the ball effortlessly and because you chose to be with the opposing team making the rally last longer due to Kuroo’s rage and your boyfriends' jealousy.
Once you managed to spike a ball strong enough to make your boyfriend fall from the failed attempt of receiving it, you cheered.
But with the course of happiness, you pulled Kuroo in from the collar of his shirt before taking your lips in his while your boyfriend remains frozen as the boy who was stupidly in love only made the rightful choice which was to kiss back and cherish the way he’s waited for this to happen. Getting a little too lost in the kiss, he cups your cheek bringing you closer and tucking your hair behind your ear with his free hand snaking around your waist, gripping it lightly to make sure it was actually happening.
You pull away softly, flushed cheeks and a smile on your face.
“What the hell Y/N!” Your boyfriend shouts but then he couldn’t exactly move because of how Tetsuro would react once he actually takes a step forward. Kuroo had his arms crossed in front of his chest staring at the boy up and down while desperately trying to act like his knees weren’t just about to give out after what happened.
“What’s wrong? If you need some kisses babe, why don’t you call that cheerleader of yours?”
Kuroo’s jaw drops to the floor—almost in sync with your boyfriend's similar reaction. The sweat rolls down his forehead, obviously intimidated by the two of you catching him in the act while Tetsuro protectively wraps his arm around you once again and as he watches for your features to fall, he was stunned.
You were smiling.
You leaned on Kuroo’s side while he registers how you knew with questions multiplying with every second.
“I want you to leave me the fuck alone and if you even try to deny it—I'll let Tetsu do the talking for me.” He smirks while your boy- ex boyfriend- scoffs making the two of you raise an eyebrow at his reaction.
You removed your position from Kuroo, taking a few steps to be in front of the cheater with a smile as you land a deserving and powerful punch to his cheek, making him stumble at the impact while the other boy was left speechless but nonetheless his heart races with the scene replaying in his mind. You shake your hand as Kuroo crouches down to meet your boyfriend with a smirk mocking the pain he was in.
“Have fun with her— she's a bore anyway.” You look at Tetsuro who let out a laugh as he pats the head of the fallen loser.
“No problem then. I’ll enjoy her as much as I can.” He then walks away, which turned down your expectations of Kuroo landing a punch as well. As the frustrated boy slowly stands up, Tetsuro pulls you against him with a finger to your chin raising it to meet your lip with his as your eyes remained on him while the boy had his eyes do the taunting who were fixated on your ex.
“After all, she’s always been mine.”
With the end of his sentence, he shifts his attention back to you before taking your lips again as the two of you smile. Your ex then walks away with a scowl as he throws his phone in frustration that he lost to Kuroo.
“Mind telling me how you knew, kitten?” He asks when he pulled away with his voice low, taking your heart by a storm.
“I got sick yesterday and when I came to school to get all the work I missed— I overheard you and Kenma talking about it.” He frowns when he realizes how bitter that must’ve been but he continues to ask, though you really couldn’t concentrate when his hand was caressing your waist.
“So, you knew all along?”
“I knew about it a few weeks ago when I read the messages on his phone. When he asked you to hang out, I figured you’d find out about it too.” Kuroo sighs of disappointment before speaking.
“I’m sorry you had to meet an asshole like that,” He says while you shook your head before he continues, “Why him though?” which made you blush.
“I couldn’t get over a certain boy and simply thought it would work but you obviously saw the outcome.” With your previous statement, he lets a smirk fall on his lips now that you couldn’t even look at him straight.
“And that certain boy is?” He edged on, his heart pushing him to confirm if it was actually him— that all the years he spent loving you might actually have you reciprocating those feelings.
“It’s you.” You confessed while your heart sets on fire that you finally admitted it. It was an awful attempt to cover your feelings in the first place. In all honesty, it was your fault. If you could’ve just admitted it right away then you’d end up with him instead of the asshole of a man you wasted time on but then again—the kiss was worth it to ever change your decisions.
“No no I wanna hear the full name.” He teases more making you roll your eyes. He then plants a kiss on the crown of your head with a satisfied smile as he internally cheers to not embarrass himself with the overwhelming glee. You also mirror the same state that he was in. Hearing Kuroo at the gym say how much he loves you was enough of an evidence that you should’ve picked him in the first place.
“Well then, should I make my previous statement official now?” You blushed but muttered a yes making Kuroo smile and take your hand, landing a peck on it as he intertwines them with his.
“All yours, Tetsu.”
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu!!#kuroo x y/n#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#hq kuroo#kuroo testuro#tetsuro kuroo#haikyuu kenma#kenma kozume
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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 1)
Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you’d probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.
Warnings: n/a
A/N: Thank you for all of the love on the prologue!! like WOW i couldn't have expected that big of a response so THANK YOU!!! As a reminder: I already have the first 17 chapters out on ao3, so I will be updating on here pretty quickly! This takes place two years after the prologue, and this is where the actual storyline starts!
masterlist || read on ao3
Anything you say can and will be held against you
So only say my name
It will be held against you
-Fall Out Boy, “Just One Yesterday”
Present Day- Two Years Later
You tugged at the handcuff that was attaching you to the interrogation table, hoping that if you glared at it enough, it would just go away. One minute, you were at your apartment and getting ready to go out with some of your friends, and the next minute Metro D.C. police were banging on your door, ordering you to go with them, no charges and no explanation.
So now you were just stuck, sitting and waiting for somebody to tell you what the hell this all was about. Law school had taught you enough about interrogation tactics, and they were pulling out all of the stops- turning down the room temperature, forcing you to sit in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve ever been in, and just making you be by yourself in the metal room. A small part of you was nervous, but mostly you were just confused. You couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would warrant your arrest.
Just as the isolation of the room was about to get to you, the door swung open and in walked two people. The first one was a petite blonde woman and following her was a younger looking man in a cardigan. You narrowed your eyes slightly at the site of them. You had expected the usual “good cop/bad cop” technique, but neither of these cops looked very intimidating.
“Hi there,” the woman spoke, sliding into the chair across from you. “My name is Agent Jareau and this is Dr. Reid. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”
Her name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you knew it from. You raised an eyebrow and jutted your head towards Dr. Reid. “Is the handsome one not an agent?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.
Dr. Reid seemed unphased by your question, as if he was used to that question. “I am an agent. But I also have three doctorates,” he answered.
You just smirked at him before looking back at Agent Jareau. She had placed a file on the table, the seal of the FBI practically staring you in the face. Whatever they brought you in for was an FBI matter? Oh, you were definitely screwed. You tried to keep your cool. “So are you guys going to actually charge me with anything, or are you just going to hold me for 72 hours until you find something to stick?” you accused.
Agent Jareau shook her head, and you were still desperately trying to remember how you knew that name. “The faster you cooperate, the faster we can let you go.” It didn’t go unnoticed to you that she refused to answer your question. She leaned over the table slightly to slide the file towards you and you caught a glimpse of her ID. Everything came back to you at once.
Jennifer Jareau. FBI. Business cards. “You can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU…” Holy shit, you did know that name.
You laughed softly to yourself and crossed your legs as the memories came flooding back. “Okay, I’ll cooperate,” you agreed, but you were looking directly at the two way mirror. “But only if I can speak to your unit chief. It still is Aaron Hotchner, correct?” Your voice was innocent enough to not be too suspicious, but you knew it would drive Aaron crazy. It was the same voice you would use when he had a fistfull of your hair and you were promising to be his good girl.
You could only imagine what was going on behind that two way mirror; Aaron’s team looking at him with complete and utter confusion, trying to figure out how you knew him, all while Aaron was probably clenching his teeth, red with anger. Maybe if you made him mad enough, he would bend you over the interrogation table once everybody else had left.
Jennifer and Dr. Reid shared a quick glance before looking back at you. Dr. Reid spoke first. “It would be best if we could go over our questions with you first.”
You bopped your head, pretending to think it over. “I get it, the two of you have a job to do and you have a strategy to stay in control, so I’ll give you guys a choice. You can let me speak to Agent Hotchner or I lawyer up and invoke the 5th.”
Like clockwork, the door swung open violently and Aaron stormed in. “I’ll take it from here,” he ordered, and the other two agents quickly shuffled out of the room.
He sat down in the seat across from you and you just raised the hand that was handcuffed to the table, wiggling your fingers. He was pissed, you could tell, and you loved every second of it. You leaned over the table, signalling for him to move closer to you. He hesitated, which earned him a roll of your eyes, but he eventually leaned over the table too.
“If you wanted me in handcuffs again for you, you didn’t have to go through all this effort. My phone number hasn’t changed,” you whispered, low enough so that the group watching on the other side of the mirror couldn’t hear. He refused to answer and instead just pulled back to his normal seated position. Ever the good agent, Aaron’s face went back to it’s normal, stoic look, and it made you pout. You wanted to get more of a rise out of him.
“Miss. Y/L/N,” he said cooly. “Why don’t we get started?” You realized with a sinking feeling that he was already starting to lose interest in you flirting, his attention focused back on the task at hand, attention that you selfishly wanted all to yourself.
You slipped off the heels you were wearing and stretched your leg out so that your foot could brush against his leg. If you couldn’t touch him with your hands right now, you were going to make sure he could feel you in some way. His eyes shot up to yours, giving you a warning look, as if to say “Stop right now or I’m going to make you.”
You knew that look too well, craved for it even. You just responded with a smirk and dropped your foot, relishing in the fact that he actually looked slightly disappointed that you stopped.
“How are Haley and Jack doing, Aaron?” you asked lazily, leaning back in your chair. “Visiting them more often?”
Aaron cleared his throat and ran his hand down his tie to flatten it, as if it had come out of place. He was always so put together at work. “Jack is fine. Haley passed away a while ago,” he said quickly, and guilt immediately engulfed you.
You lowered your gaze so that you were staring at the interrogation table. “Oh,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry.” And you really were sorry. Sure, your relationship, or lack of relationship, with Haley was weird. You were sleeping with her ex before the divorce papers had time to be fully submitted, and even though Aaron was well in his right to be with whoever he wanted, the two of you still found yourselves sneaking around with each other. But you never had anything against her personally- she seemed like a great mother and obviously made Aaron happy for however long they were married.
Besides, you could take a guess as to what happened to Haley. Your fling with Aaron lasted for a fun few months, neither of you ever expecting anything other than sex whenever you met up, so when you and Aaron had decided to stop seeing each other, it was completely amicable. He had explained that the BAU was closing in on a serial killer who was going after him and his family, and you did not want to be involved in that mess. The fact that Haley died right as a serial killer was chasing her… that definitely wasn’t just a coincidence.
The tension was thick in the room as the two of you desperately searched for how to continue the conversation. What were you supposed to say after finding out your fuck buddy’s ex wife was murdered?
You started talking before your brain could even process what you were saying. “Well, like told you, if you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces...”
He ignored you, electing to direct the conversation in his own direction. “You know, I read the paper you were working on,” he said casually, and that sure caught you by surprise.
“You did?” you asked.
“You piqued my interest,” he admitted. “Your professor and I worked on a few cases together, so he gave me a copy. It was good. You are much more professional on paper.”
“I could say the same about you,” you countered, and he gave you a hint of a genuine smile.
“Although I did notice that you didn’t mention The People vs. Michaelson anywhere in it.” There was something in his voice that put you on edge. You could feel yourself walking into his trap, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know more.
You shrugged. “Well, I got some shit information about the case.”
For a split second, you thought you saw a flash of the old Aaron, but just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and he was business as usual. “What intrigued me even more, however,” he continued, completely ignoring your previous comment. “Was that you didn’t mention recidivism at all, which is what that case is all about. Your thesis was on jury selection. Why ask me about the case if you weren’t going to use the information for school?”
You glared at him and clenched your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. What a dick. He knew why you were interested in the case- it mirrored your father’s situation almost perfectly. You were 12 the first time your father was arrested. When your mom realized that your dad was involved with some shady people, she immediately turned him into the cops to protect you. The prosecutor barely even tried during the case and your dad was in and out of prison within two years. The day he was released, he came right back to your home and killed your mom out of revenge. He’s now rotting in a max security prison for life, but you were still angry that he even had the opportunity to come after your mom. It’s why you wanted to become a prosecutor in the first place, so that you could ensure these criminals were actually brought to justice.
Aaron knew all that. You realized as he began to inch the case file closer to you that he was just trying to knock you off balance. The actual interrogation hadn’t even started yet. “And you say that I’m the one who gets under people’s skin,” you snapped at him.
Aaron humed to himself, arrogance oozing off of him. If you weren’t so angry at him, you would have thought it was hot. “You’re currently interning at DuPont and Associates?” You nodded, annoyed at him brushing off your last comment. “What do you know about the recent string of murders in the area?” Aaron asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed at his question. “Um… Just what they’re saying on the news? Somebody has been killing a bunch of people whose cases were dismissed because of technicalities- their Miranda rights were read incorrectly and that kind of stuff. I haven’t really been keeping up,” you admitted, still unsure of why you were there.
Aaron flipped open the case files, and instead of gruesome crime scene photos, you just saw legal briefs. More shocking, however, was that they were all legal briefs you had helped write. “Each of these victims had their initial cases through duPont and Associates, and we found that you were the only person who assisted on every case. What did you think about those dismissals? Some of these people really should have been locked up, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried desperately to find the words to say. Unconsciously, you started to tug at the handcuff again, as if they would suddenly just release you if you fought it enough. “Maybe, but that’s not really my decision,” you said disdainfully. Then the fear and realization slowly creeped into you. “Wait you don’t… you guys don’t think I did this, do you?” Your voice was rough and panicky.
Aaron placed his hands on the cold metal of the interrogation table, his fingers interlocked. His FBI Unit Chief exterior melted away ever so slightly. “No, I don’t,” he said softly, and his use of “I” instead of “We” did not go unnoticed by you. You weren’t sure if you were comforted by that or not. “But you are our best lead right now, and I think you know more than you realize. We have reason to believe that the unsub works for the law firm you’re interning at and is playing out a vigilante fantasy and considering you are the only one who actually worked on every single case, we need to use you and your position at the firm to get more intel.”
We need to use you. He realized his slip before he even finished his sentence. It was innocuous enough that his team probably didn’t even notice it; He was just letting a potential witness know that they were going to be an important part of the investigation. But you knew Aaron better than that, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to figure out how to go back on what he just said.
You gave him a smirk and brought your elbows up on the table, steepling your fingers. Of course you were going to help them, whatever they needed. You’d do that even if Aaron wasn’t involved. But after being forcibly brought to the interrogation room, you figured you could make him sweat a little. “Oh Aaron, I’m flattered that you think I could be an asset to the BAU’s investigation. But if you want something from me, you’re going to have to ask for it.”
You got him right where you wanted him. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy with the roll reversal, using his own words against him. But you missed the playful banter between you and Aaron, and nobody knew how to get you off the way he did. Aaron had quite literally ruined sex for you, much to your disappointment. The other people you had slept with since meeting Aaron all lacked the confidence and intelligence that Aaron brought to every meeting, and they could never walk that fine line of fucking you like they adored you and hated you at the same time.
The way that Aaron would demand you to ask and use your words was more than just a way for him to remain in control, although you knew that was definitely part of it. And it was more than just checking for consent- that always came earlier and you had your safeword. No, it was more than all of that. He wanted to hear you beg for the things you wanted, as if he wanted to be validated; He always wanted to know that you still wanted him, which you did. So you just kept asking him for things, and he happily kept giving them to you.
Aaron looked downright murderous, his eyebrows scrunched together and his breathing getting heavier. He stood up and slammed the case file shut. “I’m not going to ask for anything, because where I’m standing, I have the control here. In case you forgot, you’re in handcuffs and I can walk out of here whenever I want.” But even as he said it, he stayed exactly where he was, his hands on the table and leaning down so that he was closer to you.
In return, you just arched your eyebrow at him, waiting for his question. He had to ask you for the sake of his job and the case and you both knew it, and you got a strange satisfaction from watching him have to ask you for something for once. He stared at you for a few moments, jaw clenching, until he realized the entire BAU team was behind the two way mirror watching this situation go down. “Will you please help us with the case?” he asked through gritted teeth.
You gave him a smug smile, which only served to irritate him further. “I would love to,” you told him, your voice too sweet and too innocent. “Now can you please take my handcuffs off?”
Aaron walked towards you wordlessly, taking the keys out of his pockets. “You’ll still have to wait here for a few minutes so that you can sign some papers,” he told you, keeping his voice even, but it all changed as he kneeled next to you, slowly unlocking the handcuffs. His fingers lingered on your skin for far too long to be considered appropriate. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he whispered in your ear, voice low enough so that nobody could hear what he was saying. “You’re going to be in handcuffs for the rest of night while I punish you for that little show you decided to give everybody. Did you already forget how to not be a brat? Do I have to teach you again?”
His words made your arousal shoot straight to your core. You were released with a soft click! and you rubbed your irritated wrist lightly. “Yes,” you practically moaned, and you were sure that your face was flushed. And just like that, it was as if only a few days had passed since you and Aaron had last seen each other, instead of two years. The two of you fell back into an easy rhythm. “I still live in the same apartment. Five minutes from here.”
With that, Aaron stormed out of the interrogation room, already barking orders at the cops. “Get her processed and out of here quickly, I don’t want to spend anymore time on this,” he demanded, making a beeline to grab his stuff. Unfortunately for him, Rossi was standing right in front of Aaron’s bag, a knowing smirk on his face. Aaron stopped mid step and groaned in annoyance. “Dave, don’t.”
Rossi just ignored him. “Old friend?” he asked, stepping aside just enough to let Aaron grab his bag.
Aaron looked around quickly and was relieved to see that there were no other BAU members near them. “You could say that,” Aaron mumbled and started to walk to the doors.
To his dismay, Rossi just followed him. “She’s pretty,” Rossi hummed, and Aaron hated how easily Rossi was able to keep this conversation so casual. “Not your usual type, though.” It didn’t take a profiler to get the underlying comment: She’s young.
Aaron took an audible breath, keeping his eyes on the exit sign that seemed to be getting further and further away. “Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off, unable to find a good response.
“When did you meet her?”
Aaron paused, deciding how honest he was going to be. He figured that if anybody was going to find out, it would be Rossi, and if he was honest with Rossi now, they would be able to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. He cleared his throat. “An alumni event at George Washington. Before Foyet but after the divorce.” Another pause. “Right after the divorce,” he clarified.
Rossi just nodded understandably, a soft “Ah” coming from his lips. He would push the full story out of Aaron later, but it was obvious that Aaron was just desperate to get out of the police station. “Okay, well... I will let the team know about your emergency meeting with Strauss that she just called, which is why you’re leaving so quickly. And if they ask, from what you’re telling me, Y/N is just one of Sean’s old friends from before he dropped out of law school. I’m pretty sure you never got along with his friends, am I correct?” Sometimes, Rossi was too good at thinking on his feet.
Aaron turned to face Rossi, his mouth open and ready to argue, but he knew there was no point. With Rossi’s lie, it would keep the team from asking too many questions, at least until Aaron got his need for you out of his system. Just one night, he promised himself. That’s all I’ll need. So instead of arguing, Hotch just nodded at Rossi, a hint of a smile on his face. It made it all worth it, in Rossi’s eyes. Aaron hadn’t been this excited about a girl since Haley’s death. He deserved a night of fun. “Thank you,” Aaron breathed before swiftly stepping out of the police station.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotcner smut#aaron hotchner fanfiction#my best habit#aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#my writing
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𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.
a tendou satori x reader series.
✟ there’s always been the one rule every person who’s been in a band knows not to break, never mess around with your band mates. but Satori was sick of the groupies, sick of catching the bra’s and panties that were flung at him every night. he just wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.
✟ warnings: swearing, eventual smut, eventual angst(?), drug use, inappropriate themes, comedy.
✟ things to know: band au!, some timeskip careers mentioned, slow updates.
✟ if you’d like to be added to the taglist just send an ask! <3
✟ word count: 1.8k
✟ note: first actual chapter of this series! it’s nothing big but obviously i wanted to get something written for this series! but i hope you enjoy my dears! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
all contents belongs to k1ttykawa 2021. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.
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𝟎𝟎𝟐:. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬
The bright lights and screams from the small crowd in the underground venue was what brings you back down from the high you’re always on whenever you sit on the small bouncing stool behind the drum set on stages every second or third night. You heard Semi thanking everyone for coming and whatever shit he always says. Once you seen him bow and Tendou go to pick up the collection of bra’s and panties thrown on stage, you raised a hand and threw one of the drumsticks into the crowd, your own way of saying goodbye before making your way offstage. Semi and Tendou’s tall frames following behind, the same order as always.
The sweat was pouring out of you, tonight being more of a wilder one than the usual calm sets you’ve been having in bars or party’s recently. they were easy money, but they got boring after just a few hours. so all three of you were in desperate need of a night like tonight.
Turning the corner of the small, dark corridor to your dressing room for tonight you were met with the stench of weed, 3 different girls on the beat up leather couch, a rolled joint in one of the girls hands and white lines on a tray to the others left. Like always, you went straight to the showers to get the scent of sweat and fake smoke of you.
You really don’t know when but the cropped black tank top you had on was ripped down one side but your usual headband you sported every show was missing and it now became you new priority to track it down. “Satori! Where the fuck is my headband?” you stomped back out to see the wanted man desperately trying to pull the tight leather pants down his lanky legs. His head was whipped up to at the sound of your annoyed voice and then quickly darted his eyes over to the blonde that had previously rolled the joints and was now fawning over semi and his revealed tattoos. “oi” was all you muttered out behind her and holding out your empty hand—also noting some of your rings were gone. She turned her head to you with a scowl covering her features, which also revealed your missing accessory that caused your distress. “that’s her bandana and she’s quite obviously looking for it back,” Tendou quipped in making every one bar the girl laugh. After time, she untied it from the back and forcefully placed it back in your hand. Dramatically you held your arm, acting as if she pained you, tendou again laughing with you.
Finally you were able to hop into the shower and quickly get your self freshened and rub the accesses makeup off your eyes that was already smudged from your constant wiping, trying to stop the sweat dripping from your hairline.
“(y/n)!! please help me out of these, semisemi just keeps fucking laughing!” the peace and quiet you had was quickly interrupted by Tendou’s loud whining. “how the fuck am I not supposed to laugh when your walking around with them swinging around your ankles and your dick hanging out?” “what, Its out?!”
The large door separating the bathroom from the connected dressing room swung open and revealed Satori with his leathers pooled at his ankles and— surprising his dick not actually ‘hanging out’. “please help me sugartits, they’re fucking stuck even with my skinny ankles,” he hopped onto the counter and held his legs up for you to guide them off him. “well for starters, take your fucking shoes off!, and also I swear i saw these in the women’s section of some online store?” jokingly you shouted at him and moved to untie the doc martin’s around his feet. “yeah? You probably did, stole them from that chick that wouldn’t stop hanging off me last month,” both of you laughing at his silliness and falling into a comfortable silence.
The only noise was the voices off the others in the separate room and a recognisable Mötley Crüe song shaking the floor from the stage.
“what you think of tonight then?” the silence being broken by Satori like usual. “uhhh, it was definitely something but yeah, it was fun. Its nice to have a night like that every now and then, specially since we’ve just been in bars doing the same covers for the past two weeks. What about you huh?” he hummed, a noise of agreement showing he was listening, a habit you grew to learn. “I guess it was good fun yeah, although I didn’t appreciate nearly getting hit with a dildo within the first two songs. But I agree, it’s nice to do our own shit and not covers in a bar with a bunch of middle age boring shits. I think we’ve another show that’ll probably be like this again on Saturday.”
Saturday, today was Thursday so you’ve a nice day or two to just lie around, the other probably filled with travelling and setting up.
After about 10 minutes you had unlaced both his boots and chucked them onto the floor and not too long later his ‘borrowed’ pants joined them. “thanks chicken, lifesaver as always,” he pulled you into an embrace with one arm before leaving to find his spare clothes in the other room. He did always have the weirdest nicknames.
The night bled into the early hours of the morning, Semi and Tendou both getting their share of the girls there while you kicked your feet up, sparking up a conversation and passing the joints with your friend Taichi who was also your ‘manager’, he wasn’t really he just acted like it when venues would ask important questions and tagged along for the free show and nights at different clubs.
He was also the one who suggested you start moving to the motel down the street for the night before the venue boots you all out. Quickly you agreed, not fancying seeing any more glimpses of your friends and strangers body parts. Obviously the girls whined to the boys, asking if they could come, saying it’s dangerous for girls to walk home alone at night, “sorry ladies, but we’ll be sharing a bed tonight and I don’t fancy getting an unwanted facial on a Thursday night,” you butted into their persuasive conversation by wrapping an arm around the boys from the back of the couch and giving a friendly smile.
By the time you all got your equipment packed away and into the van it was nearing 4:30 in the morning and you, quite literally we’re going to fall into the bed. It wasn’t the nicest of places but you were just spending tonight and the next two there, unless you decided to go out after the shows and find some rando’s condo to spend the night in. All three of you pushed your way into the small room trying to get the edges of the double bed. And it wasn’t easy trying to squeeze through two 6’2 lean men, resulting in you again stuck in the middle of them staring at the blank roof, desperately waiting for the sun to rise so you could find some place to get food and away from the mess of limbs under the covers.
When you did wake up it felt like you’d only slept for two hours, when in reality it had been about 10. The afternoon sun melting through the old curtains and falling into your pillow. As you moved to see what had finally woke you from the deep sleep you saw Semi at the small table, his guitar resting on his knees and his worn, nimble fingers scribbling words on his notebook he kept for when lyrics would come to him.
“mornin’ early bird,” all you could let out was a groan, your mind still coming to its senses. “there’s food n’ shit there Satori went out to get it, we was the first up, surprisingly,” he breathed out the last remark before moving to pick up the red pencil and get back to writing lyrics before they left his head.
The food that Tendou got was still warm so he must’ve of been up long before you anyway. “where is he?” “beats me, probably wandering round like always,” quickly he responded and took the pic from between his teeth and started strumming a tune while humming, what you were guessing, was the lyrics on the page.
Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you pulled your phone from where it was connected to the wall by the charger and found Satori’s contact and pressed the call icon, moving away from the sound of Eita and his guitar you went to go outside and sit on the bench outside your rooms window.
“hello, hello,” his ever cheerful voice filled the speakers of your phone that was wedged between your shoulder and ear. “hey, I was just calling to see where you are that’s all,” you piped up when he went quiet, tutting when you realised you were out of cigarettes. “oh you know, just out sightseeing ‘tis all,” “cool cool, well i’m going to the store now you need anything?” he hummed into the phone, indicating that he was thinking of something he needed. “just cigs I guess and get me that drink I like while there, i’ll pay you later,” bidding him goodbye as the small shop on the corner came into view you slipped your phone into your sweatpants pocket and walked to the back where they kept the energy drinks.
Exiting the shop with everything you needed you walked to make your way back till you saw a familiar head of red locks across the street and quickly, but quietly made your way to his figure.
Sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his ribs press into your arms, something you’ve noted recently. He sucked air into his lungs and jumped slightly before laughing with you. “here you go your highness,” was how you greeted him and chucked him his requested items. “thanks muffincake, i’ll pay you back later I swear,” you scoffed and shook his offer off, suggesting you stroll around the city until Semi called either of you to ‘get your sorry asses back to the room’.
Your stroll progressed into a very long walk and by the time Satori suggested you head back with an arm around your shoulder it was already dark, the night life staring to come out of hiding. eyeing a club across the street you thought might be a good shout to visit in case you three got bored tonight, making a mental note of its location.
“Didn’t Semisemi say we need to go over the set list again cause, someone, messed up last night,” a sing-song voice dragged you out of your club browsing and brought a scowl to your face. “excuse me, you’re the one who told me we were doing ‘nasty’ after the interlude, prick,” he pulled his chin up and started to ‘think’ about your accusation before loudly dubbing it false; “nope, I don’t recall doing such a thing. I could never, but if it boots your already sky high ego then, of course I did my dearest apologies baby cakes,” “do you ever shut up,” “when i’m face first in pus-” “Don’t even!”
t a g l i s t: @evan-rose @elianetsantana @weebintheinternet @kuroos-roosterhead
please lmk if i missed you if your not there! <3
#🎸.my band#🤍.satori#tendou fic#tendou satori#tendou x reader#tendou headcanon#tendou smut#tendou x y/n#haikyuu tendou
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eavesdropping (bangchan x chubby! reader)
☆ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after accompanying chan in the studio on your day off, you overhear a conversation he has with the other members that isn’t as pleasant as you would like it to be.
☆ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚/𝐧: this is for a chubby series i am doing for all members, so definitely stick around for updates! this is for my plus size babies so enjoy! also cursing and sensitive topics of weight up ahead.
——————————
Although it was a dream to become an idol and create music much like your boyfriend, you found it would be best to pursue a different career path. Being a foreigner was hard enough in South Korea, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to want to go through more stress. And with that, you kept up your studies and continued on with your major in a nearby university that was still in distance of seeing Chan whenever.
His schedule definitely wasn’t the most flexible, so it was rare to find days in which you both had scheduled off. You always took advantage of any time you had alone, and today was one of those days. With a lazy grin, you bopped your head to the new beat that Chan had been creating, knowing he had a talent for producing. Chan couldn’t help but to laugh at your expression, pulling your chair closer to him so he could be as near to you as possible.
“That’s really good, I’m excited to hear the finished product.” you spoke, setting the headphones down on the table. You couldn’t help but to notice the hands that were placed on top of your thicker thighs, the warmth radiating throughout your body immediately.
“I’m glad you think so.” he murmured. His voice was soft and hushed, his eyes cast down at you in a loving way.
“God, I missed you. I only have a few more things I need to do on this song and then we can leave for a little bit to go do something. I don’t want to be cooped up in here all day.” Chan said as he reached for the headphones you had placed down.
Your heart fluttered at that which caused a large smile to spread on your cheeks. “I’m so touched that you want to spend time with me.” you teased.
“Uh, duh, I want to spend every second with you.” he teased back, and laughed quickly after. Oh how you loved that cheeky laugh.
“I’m going to grab a water, do you want one?” you offered while standing and heading to the door. Chan nodded, then proceeded to work on his laptop. Rolling your eyes playfully, you headed out of the room and to the kitchen to grab some bottles of water.
Along the way, you spotted a familiar face and grinned. “Hey, Felix! How ya doing?”
The younger boy smiled widely and waved, placing his phone back in his pocket. “I’m doing well, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
You chuckled at that and continued on with some small talk, catching up on anything that happened within the last time you both saw each other. It always made you feel at ease knowing you had another person to talk to fluently, since you were average with speaking Korean. It was refreshing to say the least. After it had been a good five minutes or so, you decided it was time to head back. Chan would probably start looking for you knowing it shouldn’t take this long to get a drink.
“I’ll catch you later!”
Felix nodded and waved you off as you went back on your way. For the first time in awhile, a smile painted your lips. These past few weeks of university had felt like the worst weeks of your life. Tests were growing harder as the middle of the semester had approached, and today had been your only break from the constant studying. Chan always had the ability to make you calm, and it made you realize just how much you needed him in your life.
As you neared his room, you could hear a couple of voices conversing in quieter tones. Growing closer, you could finally make up which voices they were which consisted of Changbin and Minho. Just as you were to enter, you came to a halt as your name popped up.
“I saw (Y/N) earlier today, I didn’t know you two were still dating. I don’t know what you two have in common, it’s a little surprising,” chuckled Minho. You could hear the sound of a swat and you could only imagine it was Chan hitting Minho.
“We actually have a lot in common, and I love (Y/N), why would we not be dating?” Chan stated, and Changbin could only hum in agreement.
Minho sighed momentarily after. “I thought you liked athetlicism in a girl, someone to work out with? It just caught me off guard, I guess.”
Your face scrunched up in discomfort, not knowing how to process this information. Is that really how Minho felt about your relationship? Not like his opinion really mattered, yet it still hurt especially because you always thought you two were friends. What came next really caught you off guard, though.
“She may not be the fittest person, but I love her and her personality. There are days where I wish we could work out together but I don’t know how to bring that up to her without it being insensitive, you know? At first I was unsure about it but I’ve definitely gotten used to her shape.”
“It sounds like you settled for her,” Minho spoke honestly. Changbin chimed in immediately after, disagreeing completely. “I think that’s a bit harsh.”
You hadn’t even taken into account the tears that were forming in your eyes. Those words were hitting you repeatedly in the chest, your breath being held in from fear of releasing a sob. You had always been sensitive to the topic of your weight, and the Korean beauty standards did not help. Every second that passed that you stood there became more and more overwhelming. Without thinking much of it, you quickly began walking to the entrance of the dorms, passing by Felix in the process.
“Whoa, where are you going so fast-”
The sound of the door slamming cut him off, and he stared blankly. What had caused you to storm off so quickly? Felix made his way to Chan’s room, seeing a few other members there. “Chan-hyung, why did (Y/N) leave so fast? Didn’t she just get here?”
Chan became alerted at the sound of this and saw that your bag was still on his sofa. You couldn’t go far without your things, at least that’s what he assumed. He cast a stare at Minho that resembled disappointment and huffed, grabbing your bag with him as he headed out the door. “I won’t be back for awhile, don’t wait up for me.”
Guilt began to settle inside of Chan as he wasn’t stupid. You were bound to hear the conversation whether he wanted you to or not. Never would he ever want to make you feel so worthless, and he honestly felt like a piece of shit. You always expressed to him that you were uncomfortable in your body, and he would instantly fight you on it that you were beautiful the way you were. Why did he even say what he said? He felt like an idiot. He took the elevator down, cussing to himself as it took its dear sweet time going down. Once it reached the bottom and the doors opened, he spotted your body leaving the entrance of the building.
“(Y/N)!” he called out before speeding out the door. Chan picked up the pace and caught a hold of your arm, stepping in front of you so you were blocked in from his body.
“Hey, baby, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked. His arms went to engulf you in a hug but you stood still, staring at the ground to avoid his gaze.
“I think you know what happened. . . “ you mumbled out.
Chan’s hands reached up to your face, brushing your hair out of your face gently. He could see the tears that were elegantly falling down your cheeks. You were so broken, he could see it very clearly in the way you were ignoring him. It honestly broke his heart at the sight.
“Hey, what I said in there- I do love you, I love you so much. I don’t care what size you are. I’m being fully honest. And who cares what Minho thinks, I don’t and you shouldn’t either.”
You grew a little irritated at that statement, glaring at the ground as you continued to avoid his eyes. “And what about working out with me? Have you ever even asked me if I wanted to work out with you? Or did you assume I couldn’t because I’m too big? Was I not what you originally wanted?”
Chan frowned. “I’m sorry I never asked, I am in the wrong for that. But you’re everything I could ever want and need. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Baby, I’m sorry.”
You nodded and leaned into his touch, your head bumping his chest. Chan took his chance and held onto you tightly despite receiving stares from the people on the street. His head reached down, placing innocent and tender kisses on your head. You knew deep down that Chan loved you, and sometimes he said stupid things. Who didn’t? What mattered most was his love for you, and you had to let it go.
“Let’s go out and do something.” he suggested. “I feel bad and I want to treat you to something.”
You smirked as you had a better idea in mind, biting your lip mischievously. You could remember that Chan’s room was the closest to the living area and kitchen, so you knew exactly what to do.
“Oh, I have a better idea.”
( one hour later )
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CAN YOU STOP FUCKING SO LOUDLY?! JEONGIN DOESN’T NEED THOSE IDEAS IN HIS HEAD-” Jisung cried out.
“Nope!” you and Chan recited together. Payback was a bitch.
#kpop#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#bangchan#bang chan#stray kids angst#angst#kpop angst#fanfiction#reader insert#bangchan x reader#chubby reader#chubby
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I’m so pumped to see the ficlets you decide to write!
Not to start OFF will Hill House right off the bat but...Nell says Shirley almost always picked up the phone for her in the past—would you consider writing one of those conversations where Shirley actually DID help Nell?
(We don’t get a lot of it in the show but Shirley’s relationship with Nell is kind of the one I relate the most to out of all of the siblings and so it’s always the one I wonder about the most)
The phone is ringing again.
The phone, it seems to Shirley Crain, never quite stops ringing these days. It’s Steven with excuses, or Theo to say she’ll be working late; it’s the rehab center with updates that make Shirley tired, or Dad trying to patch something too long broken to even find all the pieces. It’s people, mostly, strangers Shirley doesn’t know and can’t help letting in anyway--people who are aching with loss, adrift in their own shock, saying, “I don’t have much, but I want to do right by her--is this enough? Do you have packages that could...”
The phone is ringing, and Shirley is exhausted. A fifteen-hour shift, a headache that seems only to swell when she baits it with aspirin and cold water, a creeping guilt that never entirely fades when she catches sight her own reflection.
It’s ringing. Still. Always. She closes her eyes, taps her fingers against the back of the phone case. Flips it over.
Nell.
Of course.
Shirley has never much believed in sixth sense magic--in Theo’s furtive need for gloves, or Nell and Luke with their “twin thing”, or Dad’s peculiar brand of talking to shadows--but she always seems able to tell when the call is coming from her youngest sister. There’s an extra vibrato in the ringtone, somehow, when Nell is calling. An extra tremble in Shirley’s hand as she lets her finger hover over the accept button.
Oh, might as well. Nell will only call again in an hour, or two days, or next week. Might as well see what’s on her mind.
“Hello?”
“Sorry,” Nell says instantly. “Sorry, it’s late.”
Shirley’s eyes slide to the computer monitor, to the white numbers announcing an accusatory 9:07. Shit. It is. “Honestly, I hadn’t even noticed.”
“Oh.” A beat. Nell had clearly been prepared for sharp words, had clearly been ready to shield herself in endless apologies until Shirley came back to a level she could approach. Am I like that? Shirley wonders with a wince. Do they need armor to make this call?
“What’s up, Nellie?” Too casual. Too smooth. She sounds like she’s trying to play Theo’s role, all cool eyes and darting snark. “I’m--it’s good to hear your voice.”
It is. She misses Nell more than she truly knows what to do with--misses Nell’s easy smile, the way she leans forward into a conversation with hands clasped between her knees, the furtive little looks she sends across the room to whichever sibling is making the most sense that day. Nell’s choice to move across the country had been reasonable--at least to Nell--but to Shirley, it had felt like one more battle lost. One more sibling stepping over the line to Steve’s way of thinking.
“Nell?” She thinks for a minute the line has gone dead, that Nell has abandoned whatever worried twitch sent her hand skittering for Shirley’s name in her contact list. “Are you...”
“Sorry,” Nell repeats. “Sorry, I had--it was a weird day. Do you have those? The ones where you just...really need to hear someone’s voice?”
Someone stable, she doesn’t say. Someone who isn’t hiding out in a nightclub, or warding off the urge for a needle, or pinning all the family trauma to a butterfly board with the biggest, sharpest knives he can find.
“Bad dreams again?” Shirley asks, and Nell exhales. Laughs. It’s shaky, that laugh--it sounds like Mom did, near the end of that summer, when she’d been all dressing gowns and pounding headaches. Shirley closes her eyes.
“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I guess. Always. But no. I think I just...you remember movie nights? I miss movie nights.”
Nell, always going back. Nell, always finding little ways to dig up the past. Sometimes, it’s like this: mundane, sweet, nostalgic. Sometimes, it’s harder to stomach. Shirley is grateful she's having this sort of night, the kind steeped in monotony.
“What movie would you watch, if you could?” she asks. She leans back in her chair, lets her muscles slacken, lets Nell’s surprised giggle drag her over the line from exhausted mother, wife, businesswoman to sister.
“This is stupid--I can never remember the name of it--the one that used to scare the pants off Luke? You remember?”
“Going to need to be much more specific than that,” Shirley says, smiling. Luke hadn’t found a movie he couldn’t run screaming from until he was almost twelve years old, and even then, it had been a matter of stiff upper lip above actual courage.
“The one with the sea monster,” Nell says. “And the guy--the kid from those hockey movies--”
“Magic in the Water,” Shirley intones, remembering all at once a mock sleepover in Aunt Janet’s living room, sleeping bags spread across the floor. Theo, pretending she was too old to care about a baby movie; Luke, pretending he was too old to flip out whenever the screen got even remotely dark.
“And Luke hated it so much, she agreed to switch movies halfway through,” Nell goes on. “And she put on--”
“The fucking NeverEnding Story,” Shirley finishes, laughing despite herself.
“Luke just screaming when the luck-dragon shows up for the first time,” Nell says fondly. “And I’m trying to remind him that’s a good guy. That’s a good thing to have turning up. And Luke just goes--”
“Why,” Shirley recalls, “would you want a dragon in your house?” She waits for Nell’s giggles to die down, for Nell’s breath on the other end of the line to level out again. “So, which one would you put on right now?”
“Easy,” Nell says simply. “The Secret Garden.”
It’s so out of left field, so perfectly Nell that Shirley bursts into laughter again. She can hear Nell grinning, can picture her perfectly: dark hair curtaining a hopeful face, eyes bright as she leans across her table or into the comfort of her couch. Nell no-longer-Crain, with a ring on her finger and a house she’s made into a home miles and miles away from anything Shirley can touch.
“I miss you, Nellie,” she says, shutting her eyes against a surprising well of emotion. “I really do.”
“Come out,” Nell says. “Next time you get a break, fly out and stay with us. Arthur would love to see you.”
Next time you get a break. Nell, dreaming again. Nell, believing with her whole heart that life is simple enough to allow for breaks, for impulse flights, for sisterly bonding time just because it’s needed.
“You’re okay?” Shirley says, sidestepping the invitation for now. “You’re doing all right with all that sunshine?”
“Sure,” says Nell without missing a beat. Shirley imagines her smile dipping, the tension drawing back into her shoulders as she hunches smaller in her seat. “Sure. It’s great.”
It’s great, Shirley. I’m great, Shirley. I only call because my head is ringing with monsters too big to shut out even after twenty-odd years, Shirley.
She isn’t Mom, Shirley thinks. She isn’t Mom, muttering to empty rooms, or Dad, all vacancies and no space to rent. She’s just Nell: a heart laid open, beating too hard, waiting for someone to patch her up again. And if that never happens? If no one ever learns quite how to stitch her shut?
She has Arthur, Shirley thinks, and there’s relief in the idea. Arthur and Nell, a closed circuit. Two people with all they could need in one house. Maybe there will be kids someday, or maybe they’ll sweep in at Christmas with expensive gifts and wild laughter, and it’ll all be--it’ll all just be--
Great, Shirley. I’m great.
She hangs up gently on Nell’s soft goodbye, and wonders why it doesn’t quite feel like Nell was telling her the truth.
#fanfiction#ficlet#the haunting of hill house#nell crain#shirley crain#no idea how to tag sibling dynamics for this show but all the same
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Kait Reacts To The AE 6/?
Hi! These reactions are written out every time a Chatroom opens and it’s done over the course of the day. So, you’re watching me react in real time as it is for me. So, Spoilers AHOY. Expect Another post like this later today, there is just too many chats to put it all in one post. So, hey, if you click this, you’re opening yourself to spoilers, you make the choice.
[18:00]
Hey, so this is a heavy chat. A lot happens and I have a lot of feelings in my heart and most of them are not kind. I’m usually the type of person that wants to see good in people but I see no good in Rika Kim and I never will. I cannot let myself trust V anymore, either. Not after his reaction in this shared chatroom with him and Rika. I just can’t. I can’t deal with him or her anymore because the two of them are so—
I’ll get into it.
You jump into the chat and ask Rika if she feels guilty for what she did. She says, “I didn’t do anything. It was the Prime Minister. He should have known better than to bite the dog that is bigger than he. All of you, all of you should know better than to do this.” She blames them for what’s happening, and she acts like she has done nothing wrong. She allowed this to happen by letting the agency and the Prime Minister know that she’d do as they wanted as long as she got to keep her freedom.
This chatroom has... Rika telling you that she’s done denying herself, she is wicked, she is vindictive, she is her devil and she just doesn’t care about anything but herself. It’s all about Rika, it’s all about what Rika wants, and what Rika wants, Rika is going to get no matter how dirty her hands have to become in the process. She even jests that it’s selfish, like it’s some kind of a game. This isn’t a game.
But, I wanna see what she’s thinking so I prod deeper.
She says that Saeran should give up hope. That there’s nothing he can do and that he’s weak against Saejoong and the hackers. But, I tell him not to give up hope if he’s looking at the chatroom. I know he has to be. He’s at C&R so that has to be case. Rika says that they’re not good people, but neither is she, so that’s why they get along. They work together even if they don’t see the same deal and keep their secrets.
I don’t like that.
She keeps saying to the RFA to forget the twins.
To forget everything.
Live on.
Live on while Rika gets her Selfish Wish [the name of the chat.]
And let me tell you when I screamed, I screamed when this happened because this is what I’ve been trying to tell people for years about the problem with being able to forgive or judge.
People who hurt you can apologize, but you don’t owe them shit for it. You don’t owe them anything. Ever. You can hate them forever if that is what you want. You don’t have to accept an apology. Nor do you have to see them ever again. It’s your choice to forgive, and it’s your choice to not forgive someone and thank fucking Christ the game let me say this to Rika Kim’s fucking face.
You really get to call her out in this chatroom, too. I’m floored at this because it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. You don’t get to move on and act like you didn’t make a fucking cult and harm hundreds of people. You don’t get to move on and act like nothing happened when you abused, tortured, and gaslit Saeran Choi for so many years. No. You don’t. You don’t get to be selfish. You don’t get that. You don’t have that right.
She makes a final plea to Saeran: To Give into her wish.
I tell him not to lose hope.
V comes into this chatroom and this is the point where I reach my fucking end of confusion about him and I give up on him. I’m disappointed in you, Jihyun Kim and I do not think I ever will have that restored. I am angry with you and I am so sad that you were on the brink of getting back and you went back, and now you have resigned yourself to this and let others hurt. I thought that when you went to Rika it was to make her leave the cult and never return, taking all the pain for yourself.
But, no. You sold out everything and everyone for Rika and unless something is going to change, and I highly doubt that, I cannot trust you ever again, Jihyun. I hate that you will suffer but your suffering has caused the suffering of our loved ones, and I thought you would never hurt them, but you did. This hurts me a lot and that’s why I have so much to say.
That being said, V says that when Saeran comes: You can go. You will be free. We won’t hurt you.
Rika: You don’t have a choice. This is their future.
Rika leaves.
This is the moment where I give up on V.
That’s not what you were supposed to say. You say, “I will be fine.” I’m not asking about you, Jihyun. I’m asking about if you’re okay with what is going on right now and if you’re okay that you’re destroying everything as you burn like Icarus in Rika’s sun. I’m not worried or concerned with you. You’ve betrayed my faith in you.
I want you to be happy but... as it remains right now, I cannot trust you or be close to you ever again. I thought I knew you. But, apparently, I don’t.
[19:23]
Alright. I’m rattled to my core and I’m not better than I was when I last checked in with you. In fact, this one actually made me cry. I’m still a bit... choked up on what I just saw and. There’s a lot to talk about. So, I guess I’ll just start with the chatroom. It’s with Zen and Jumin. Zen tries to ask what’s up but we really can not talk about it... you know, cause Rika and the others can see it but he’s doing okay as he can. Although, the doctors knocked him out without his consent with the drug?
Is it about his healing speed? That’s not okay. Don’t do shit without someone’s consent. Jumin’s not okay. I can say that certainly. There’s a phone with him right after all of this and he just... he’s tired. He doesn’t want to talk. He masks his pain and says what he needs to say and then he leaves before you can ask him if he’s okay. I’m concerned for him. He wants to take all of this blame and still help us.
Jumin Han is a fucking saint.
I love him. Nobody ever talk shit about this man. I swear to God, he’s always going above and beyond for everyone in this fucking group. He doesn’t even have to do this and he does it. He has a big heart. The media is getting worse, they’ve started to talk about Zen in a bad light... Yoosung... it’s not good, it’s just a fucking mess. He doesn’t even know if he can get on the stage ever again or if Yoosung can... go to classes.
We were heroes, he said, and now... I don’t know.
Jumin just leaves the chatroom after he updates us. He’s... I’m worried, you know? Zen promises that he’s looking out for us and he wants to be there, and he sends a selfie and that almost boosted my mood. Now, we jump into the end of the chat. We get a ping from Seven.
We close the phone and open the visual novel. Saeyoung is awake, but he tells us to be quiet. Rika literally threatens us if we try anything and says that she will not hesitate if we ruin her selfish wish. Once she’s said her peace and made her threat known, she leaves.
And we’re alone with Saeyoung. I theorized that we would get a moment with Saeyoung alone in my big analysis post but I never thought that this would be the way that it would happen. He says what I thought he would want to say to us and this is when I started to actively tremble in the game. I can hear it in his voice, and he’s hurting. He’s hurting so fucking much and I never thought this would be the way that I would get to talk to Saeyoung about Saeyoung and what we’ve been doing.
I didn’t even get to tell him about Saeran or how he’s been doing or what’s going on. No. Rika and V robbed of this. Saeyoung has his phone, and that’s when he drops a big bombshell on me about Vanderwood that I didn’t even consider as I was playing earlier because I was so fucking torn open about what was had just happened to me that I wasn’t thinking.
Vanderwood ran from the agency. They planted a shitload of intel and info on Saeyoung’s voice so he could use it against the agency. It’s all on his phone and all he has to do is use it to ensure that they go down and we can escape. He’s thinking that he will suffer behind here. He refuses to let Saeran suffer, his words are, “At least Saeran must have nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants and finding himself whenever he wants.’
Saeyoung Choi is a selfless man.
He wants to stay with Saeran and make sure he’s happy. The goal is to attack the agency, not Saejoong, they are the ones keeping us locked up and trapped like this. He paid them money for it. He will continue to pay them to get power and what he wants while the boys suffer. He refuses to let that happen. I don’t want to leave him, but he’s not giving me much of a choice here.
He won’t let me do that.
I think that he’s going to focus on this but then, this is the moment where I’ve utterly lost faith in Jihyun Kim as a man. I will not forgive him. I cannot. I don’t care what happens ahead, all of his actions right now are not something that I can forgive. Nobody will. He knows he’s wrong. He knows this is wrong but he acts like this is all he can do. He says to give up. He says that he has to take the phone because Saeyoung, Rika, and Saeran will suffer if Saeyoung fights back and this is it.
Just accept Hell.
This is the only way.
V: There is nothing you can do. I tried to help you, I really did. But, there’s a reason why the term impossible exists.
I say what I’ve been saying to myself:
This is where I started fucking sobbing and I haven’t stopped crying since this goddamn Visual Novel. Saeyoung gets on his fucking hands and knees and begs for his brother to be safe and V just spits in his face. Saeyoung pleads, “Not Saeran, not Saeran! I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything they ask and I will work harder then the two of us would together tenfold. Please, I swear I will not run away or anything! You know I wouldn’t!”
He begs and pleads until the last second and V ignores it. This isn’t for the best, V, you know it, and you need to stop. I cannot forgive you for what you’ve done for Rika. You’re aware that you’re in the wrong and you aren’t going to help out here, you’ve chosen and you’ve chosen to ignore us and our pleas for help, we could win if you and Rika hadn’t turned against us. If you had been willing to give us help, then this wouldn’t be fucking happen.
You know that?
You added to the problem by offering Saeran and Saeyoung’s lives to keep Rika and her selfish wish happy. Saeran and Saeyoung will never forgive you and I can’t say I ever will now even if something changes by day 4.
[21:02]
Welcome back. I’m tired of this.
V had made his point of view known. I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again, he will let all of us burn so Rika can have what she wants and so the boys are alive and it doesn’t matter if it’s what we want or not. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s aware that he’s in the wrong here. He knows that. He just... ignores it, and he is ignoring reality for the sake of a selfish wish.
He even says that Saeyoung won’t stop. They’re going to have to keep drugging him over and over, is what is implied. Even if Saeran can... “placate” his nerves by being there. I don’t like that tone and I’m... this has been a really hard day for me and V. I wanted him to be... not. this. But, this is what’s life and I can’t ignore it because he’s pissed me off.
He’s not playing a long-con.
He’s given that up. I’ve said what I have to say. I’m done with you, V. I’m just... I’m so done with you right now that I can’t even fucking deal with you. Stop doing this for the love of Christ.
Anyways, the Visual Novel opens up and— They know about phone now and they know that Saeyoung had information. They’re going to change the server and that opens them to attack. This is the time for Saeran to strike and he has to do it now. He said that he may not be able to contact us. He’s going to be working and I trust him. I have faith in him so I’m going to wait and listen even if I’m grinding my teeth to dust as I watch Saeyoung suffer.
Oh. Jumin had the doctors do that because we all know that Zen heals without a lot of... issue. They tested him to nullify the drugs. Okay, okay, okay, Jumin has a fucking go-plan. I don’t know what the hell is about to come but I know that we are in for a long fucking night, oh my God.
I called V after this.
You tell him that he's wrong for what he did. He says, yes, but what did you expect? Saeyoung is crafty. He can't risk Rika's dream, and he can't risk the life that they're trying to build with this cage around Saeran and Saeyoung. You can say that Saeyoung thought of him well, and he ignores that and says he's doing what must be done because nothing can be changed. This is how it will be. He literally told me not to interfere or he would... do something.
He says "Once RIKA changes, it won't be so bad." He says "Please, wait?" I disagree. I will never agree. He says that there's no hope once more. He says that he hopes we never change and we stay strong in our heart.
He says that.. you WOULD HAVE had good influence on Saeran. That Rika and himself envy what I have, my kindness. They don't have that, but they have something else. I ask him if he's going to fess up, change, and admit he's wrong. He says he won't change until Rika does. He said, don't do anything. Please. Or else. It's implied.
I basically hung up and said "I don't really have a choice, you kidnapped me."
[23:13]
So, we’re treated to a very short chatroom here. No surprise, really. Zen comes and lets us know that he feels that hope is lost. He thinks there’s not point and that we have to give up if we want to achieve anything anymore. He hates it and it’s horrible, but he and Jumin spoke and it just concluded that they shouldn’t be using the messenger and that we should avoid it. He promises that when we do return, however that is, he’ll be waiting there for us to reassure us. I needed that, honestly, my first route love, thank you for looking out for me.
It’s really an end note.
It feels like we’re going to hit a wall and THEN—
BANG, BOOM, BAM.
Vanderwood didn’t actually leave! The bug they fucking planted? A decoy! A lie! A falsehood! They were working with Saeran and Jumin the entire time but they couldn’t tell me. Vanderwood, I love you, oh my God. I knew you weren’t going to stick your neck out but you really do love Saeyoung, even if a lot of comes from the idea that you’ll be given safety from the agency after this comes out and things are better. I’m so happy I could weep.
Thank God.
Zen made me think I was going to hit a fucking bad ending.
Oh... and Saeran calls after, and he made a secure call channel, but they are fucking jamming all the calls and he can’t hold it for very long so we have to be talking really fast. I’m weeping because it’s starting to glitch out and he just tells me that he loves me and I tell him I love him and—
I love him but I’m scared. I’m scared that something bad might happen on the 3rd day that will keep us apart or hurt him or I’ll hit a bad ending and he’ll suffer for me. I don’t want that. I want us to be happy. He’s working so hard right now and I just... I have to have faith in him, and the RFA. I always do. So, I’m holding out for a hero.
#KaitReactsToTheAE#Kait Reacts To The AE#SaeranAfterEnding#saeran after ending#mm#mysme#mysticmessenger#mystic messenger#saeran choi#choi saeran#saeran mysme#saeran mystic messenger#saeran mm#mm saeran#mystic messenger saeran#mysme saeran#mod kait#long post
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Sunset Sound: God is Dead?
I might start updating twice a week because I am writing this story at BREAKNECK speed. this is my favorite chapter so far. enjoy! (special thanks to @friedchickenangelwings once again for sticking with me and my incessant rambling about this story at all hours during holidays)
Fic Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.
“You know?” Dean shakes his head. “What’s going on?”
Charlie leans back against the bar. “Well, after Ash and I found each other-” they give a cute little nod of the head in sync, dorks, “through the frankly shitty wifi they’ve got up here, we got to talking.”
“Yeah, we realized some shit just didn’t add up. Like angel radio.” Ash spins around and ducks into his backroom, coming back with a laptop that’s way more advanced than it was last time. Dean raises his eyebrows at it. “Yeah, man, it’s sick, right? Charlie upgraded my systems, it’s bitchin’.” he reaches past Dean’s shoulder to give Charlie a fist bump (enthusiastically returned) and Dean backs off.
“Yeah, bitchin’,” Dean repeats with a grin. He’s too dumb for these people. But he sure is glad they’re on his side. “Well, hey, show me whatcha got.”
Ash nods and taps his temple. He mutters to himself and pulls the system toward him while Dean watches anxiously. Ash pauses and looks at him. “Dude. Gimme a second? This setup is a lil’ more complicated than your blackberry.”
Dean snorts and gives him space, followed by Charlie. “Dude. you’ve been dead too long. Blackberrys haven’t existed for like… ten years.”
Ash gives him a genial middle finger and Dean grins. Charlie sits up on the pool table and Dean leans against it next to her. “Listen, Charlie, I gotta. I gotta say sorry, again, for…” He clears his throat.
“Dying?” Charlie asks lightly.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Not your fault, Dean.” She shrugs, and she actually manages to look cheerful. Damn, Dean loves this chick. She puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. “Seriously, Dean. Let it go! I have! Seriously, I got to spend a few years with my high school girlfriend watching Lord of the Rings - she was a cheerleader - and sneaking out to design some fucking world-altering programs with Ash! Being dead, for me, it’s kinda amazing.” She smiles at him. “Guessing you don’t feel the same though, huh?”
Dean swallows. He doesn’t know how much he wants to say about that, but being dead… it definitely sucks. And not in the good way. “Guess it just feels like I got more to do. Now, at least.” Now that Cas is… and heaven is…
Charlie looks like she doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, they’re interrupted before she has to think of something.
“Eyo! Sorry, amigos,” he leans over backwards to look at them. “Found it.”
Charlie jumps off the table and grabs Dean’s hand. After a few steps she shoves him with her shoulder until he bumps into Ash’s back. Dean bounces off his soft form and clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters, throwing a death glare back at his surrogate sister. She flashes him a smug grin before focusing back on the computer screen.
Ash recovers from getting jostled in time to point. “Yeah, so, we got word on Angel FM that this Jack kid is goin’ real Jim Jones over here.” He holds a finger up at several paragraphs as he’s flipping through them. “Preachin’ all kinda love and peace and hippy commune shit, but if somebody even questions it, he snaps. Naomi no-likey,” He smirks up at Dean and points to a group of cuss-words even Dean barely uses. “Rough translation.”
Dean shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound like Jack.” Jack, especially Jack-with-a-soul, almost never got mad. I mean, he’d spent quality time with Lucifer without blowing up. The kid is level-headed to a fault. “Anything else?”
Ash frowns at him. “Y’know, going through angels’ personal phone calls is a lotta work.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. Got anything else?”
“Ash, what about the human rumors?”
Ash looks at Charlie and they have a silent battle of wills, but Dean’s too impatient to see who wins. “What human rumors?”
They pause and come to an agreement. “Fighting. People fighting. Couples. Families. Friends. All over, since the reboot. People are happy, but… it’s like earth. People can talk - people can fight.”
“And?” Dean raises his eyebrows. There’s something they’re not telling him, and he thinks he knows what.
Ash raises them right back. He’s not about to divulge. “Hombre, this ain’t earth. People are supposed to be happy. If they ain’t… like a glitch in the matrix, y’know?
Dean grunts. “Anything else weird on the radio? Anything at all.”
Ash’s sigh sounds labored. He leans back in his chair and wobbles, obviously sorting through all the enochian bullshit he’s read over the past… whenever. “Meh… I got… I don’t know, God was singing?”
“Singing? Singing what?” Dean leans in, intent. If it was Taylor Swift, Beyonce, maybe Lizzo…
Ash cocks an eyebrow. “Folk shit. Indie music.”
That’s what Dean was afraid of. “Shit.”
“Why? What does that mean?” Charlie grabs onto his arm.
Dean’s worst fears, that’s what. “It means that ain’t my kid. It’s Chuck.”
“Who the hell is that?” Ash stands up as Dean walks away, cursing every stupid atom that had decided to make this dumb universe. Although, he guesses, that was Chuck’s purview too.
“He’s god! God before the reboot I mean, the dick who up and left and only came back to screw me and Sam over. Fuck, I thought we’d finally gotten out from under his thumb! Now, apparently, he’s just using my kid for his meat-suit.” Dean takes a deep breath. This is bad. Worse than bad-bad.
“So… what do we do? How do we nuke God?” Charlie asks the question like it’s normal, just another Saturday afternoon.
Dean thumps his forehead onto the nearest table. Sure, sure, good, great. They were back to square fucking one. “I don’t fucking know,”
“Alright, break it down. We need more mojo, right? How do we get more mojo?”
“Well, angels are the next best thing, right? Maybe if we get them all together, they’re obviously not psyched about folk-God, or whatever,”
Ash points at her like she’s a genius. “Alright, yeah!”
“Guys, there aren’t enough angels left to even try.” Dean feels hopeless. There’s nothing to do. They are literally out of options. There’s no hope.
“Well, where can we get some more angels, then?”
Dean stands up. “I know a place.” His heart feels like it’s being squeezed like a lemon. It’s a crazy idea. It’s practically impossible. And probably suicide. And he’s gotta find a way. “We gotta break open the Empty.”
“The Empty?” Ash looks skeptical. Dean smirks.
“Yeah, angel/demon afterlife. We punch our way in there and we’ve got juice for days, man.” He spreads his arms out, asks the question.
Ash glances at Charlie then back at Dean. He sniffs and nods. “I’m in.”
Dean looks to Charlie, who scoffs. “Duh. Of course. So what, we get in and say pretty please help us kill your dad?”
A warm feeling spreads through Dean’s chest. “Well, we’ll have a little help on the inside. Cas.”
“Castiel? The angel dude?”
“He’s dead?” Charlie’s voice has much more concern than Ash’s. Dean nods in response to both questions. It still makes him feel like he’s swallowing glass to think about it. “What happened?”
Dean looks down at his boots. It’s only the scene that keeps playing on repeat behind his eyelids. Cas crying, holding onto his shoulder, telling him… telling him goodbye. Telling him that. “He saved me.” he starts, expression guarded. “He made a deal.”
Ash grunts and nods, ready to drop it. Charlie stays quiet too, but she clearly wants to say something. Dean’s thankful for the drop. He doesn’t know what he’d say if they asked more. All he knows is that he needs Cas back. And he needs to talk to him. He needs to tell him that - that he wants him to just stay fucking put, damn it. That he needs to stop dying on him. And that he can’t just go and say something like that and then leave. It’s a bitch-ass move.
“Yo, Deano?”
Dean jerks his head back up. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“How do we jail-break ‘em?”
“Guessing we’re gonna need some serious magic shit. And since we can’t get to Rowena…”
Ash breaks into a wide grin. “Pamela? I’ll give her a call.”
Pamela is “busy,” so they have to wait for her to finish up with Jesse before she can come by. Dean has to hand it to her, it’s just about the most Pamela thing in the world to put off their realms-saving work for a heavenly hookup. Dean hangs around talking for a bit, filling his friends in on the latest on Earth, but he can’t concentrate. Ever since they’d decided the next thing is to get into the Empty, he can’t relax. He takes his beer and goes outside to wait, settling down on the Roadhouse’s front step to watch for Pamela.
After a bit, Charlie plops down next to him, a soft grin on her lips. He returns it half-heartedly before looking out across the clearing. She leans her head against his shoulder. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before she turns into him. “So we gotta get into the Empty.” she sighs. Dean nods glumly. Just his fucking luck. Even heaven is ruined. But at least… at least they’ve got a shot. “And get Castiel.”
Dean frowns and pulls away to look at her. Maybe it’s just his paranoia, but he hears some deeper meaning in her voice. “The guy died for me. I gotta,” he presses his lips together, hating himself for the half-lie he’s telling. Cas deserves better. Charlie just nods and watches, like she’s waiting for him to keep going. When he manages to talk again, his voice cracks. “We gotta get him, Charlie.”
Charlie pulls him into a side hug. “I always said he was dreamy, that angel.” She points out. Dean snorts. He remembers. He’d blushed like an idiot after she said that the first time.
“Yeah.” He mutters. Okay, so she knows. That he and Cas are… that Dean’s… good. Cas deserves recognition. He deserves someone to talk about him. For Dean to talk about him. But then Charlie just hasn’t spoken, and he feels like he needs some explanation. “I… there were other guys, before him.” He continues, clearing his throat. His mind wanders to Benny and Lee, Crowley. “But he’s… he’s it.”
He risks a look at Charlie and she is just staring at him with a fond smile. She surges forward and kisses his cheek, squealing. “Yes, I fucking knew it, you bisexual dumbass! Bi, right?”
Dean laughs. “Yeah, I guess- wait, you knew?”
Charlie looks around, like Dean’s a dumbass it was so obvious. “Well, yeah, dude. Game recognize game.” She motions between the two of them and he scoffs. That’s right. Gaydar. That would’ve been nice to have for the last, oh, 12 years? “We’ll get him back.”
Dean pulls Charlie in for another hug and leaves her tucked under his arm until a motorcycle pulls up and Pamela gets off, shaking her hair loose like a blind slow-motion model in a porno. She grins at the pair on the steps like she can see them. “Take a picture, you two. It’ll last longer.”
“How did you-”
She throws a hand out in dismissal. “Please, I can feel ogling from a mile away.” She pauses, laughing at the embarrassed silence Charlie and Dean are sporting. “Nah, I’m just joking. I do the hair-shake for a reason. I deserve a good stare. Hell, it’s half the reason I own this motorcycle.” She throws her helmet in the general direction of the motorcycle and greets her friends. Dean can’t decide whose hug is more flirty, his or Charlie’s.
“Alright, bitches. Let’s séance some shit.”
tag list: (ask or dm to be removed or added)
@dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus
#sunset sound#god is dead?#chapter 3#fanfic#deancas#destiel#my writing#dean winchester#castiel#charlie bradbury#pamela barnes#ash
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New Fic: Couples Retreat
Summary: Two months after the phonecall from Sherrinford and Sherlock Holmes can tell that things haven’t been the same between the detective and his pathologist. With Molly pulling away from him, will an undercover case at a couples’ retreat be enough for Sherlock to show his pathologist that things can go back to normal between them?
(And, as it’s a Sherlolly fic, do you really think “normal” will remain “normal” for long?)
A/N: So here I am with another WiP. I’m trying a few new things. In terms of plot, I’ve never written a case fic before - so wish me luck! In terms of process I’ve actually plotted the whole thing out so (hopefully!) I shouldn’t write myself into writer’s block and should hopefully update regularly. Here’s to good intentions. I hope you like it!
Also on Ao3 here.
Chapter 1
Sherlock Holmes didn’t like change. Of course, this fact shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. He was, after all, a man who had lived in the same flat for the past ten years, worn the same make and style of Belstaff coat for just as long, and once mourned his favourite brand of ball-tip pen going out of business by sulking on the couch for two weeks.
But the change which Sherlock found hurtling towards him this time was no mere inconvenience like the pens, or couldn’t be handled by stocking up on a cupboard full of identical coats. This change had the power of turning his whole world upside down.
So shaken was Sherlock by the news that it took John only five minutes in his presence for him to declare the detective’s mood so “un-fucking-bearable,” that he was banned from visiting John’s flat until he “pulled his head out of his arse.” Both of these statements were said by his friend mere moments before slamming the door in the detective’s face.
Sherlock couldn’t help it. So blindsided was he by the change that was coming upon him that he had no means to process it outside of the piercing verbal barbs he had flung at his friend. Barbs that were not received well and would, in any other circumstances, have led to a black eye or two.
Sherlock got off lucky – nary a bruise from John shoving him out the door - and only because John knew the one fact that Sherlock was only just discovering: If Molly Hooper left London, Sherlock Holmes would be lost.
Even though Sherlock had no idea before that day that Molly was even contemplating such a thing, there were hints that he missed.
Although he and Molly had been able to continue working together after the awkwardness of explaining that phone call to her, things in the past few months were decidedly different from before.
Molly, for her part, took his explanation well, understanding the situation Eurus had put him in. Nevertheless, there had certainly been a reserve in their exchanges ever since. Sure, she’d do the autopsies he requested, and would work late to run extra tests, but it was all delivered with the cool detachment of a colleague, none of the warmth he’d come to expect, value, even enjoy from Molly.
Even their companionship, the comfortable silence spent working side-by-side in the lab had evaporated over the last few months.
Earlier that morning, the morning Sherlock’s world fell off its axis, he strode into an empty lab that he could tell she’d only just vacated. At the time, it didn’t even cross his mind that she was making every effort to limit her time with him.
But now, as he lay on the couch in Baker street, reflecting on the day that was, he realised that she most certainly was.
---
Earlier that day, Molly heard Sherlock’s familiar voice echoing down the hallway outside her lab. On the phone to John, she guessed. She didn’t bother packing up before leaving through the side door, escaping before he could find her in the lab. She needed some air, needed some space, needed anything other than Sherlock Holmes, and Beppe’s café just down the road from Barts would do the trick.
Making herself scarce whenever Sherlock came around was a habit she had formed ever since the phone call from Sherrinford a few months ago. Of course she couldn’t keep working at Bart’s and never see him, it was, as Mycroft Holmes had called it all those years ago, Sherlock’s “home from home”.
Molly decided that she’d do what he needed for his cases but nothing extra.
No late night phone calls where he used her as a sounding board.
No walks through London like they had spent in the long nights of his recovery after the Culverton Smith case.
Certainly no invitations to eat takeaway in her flat.
Not that he had tried to resume any of their friendship rituals since that day, either.
What the detective didn’t see, or couldn’t perceive in all his intellect was that Molly was a woman in pain. Not for any lack of the detective’s observational prowess; rather, Molly didn’t trust herself to give him the opportunity to see her, had built a wall around herself so thick and although the cement hadn’t yet hardened into toughened concrete as yet, she knew well enough that time spent in Sherlock’s presence would only weaken the foundations, causing the wall to crumble and herself to be revealed.
That phone call had for a moment fulfilled every hope she had ever held for their relationship, only to have said hopes dashed with the sudden silence of the suspended phone line. Even if she kept a kindling of the flames alive for a few hours afterwards, his explanation was a deluge of rain, making it impossible to stoke the embers of her hope back to life again.
It was early morning the next day after the phone call when he arrived. He looked like shit and this was in the opinion of someone who had seen him after faking his death, had seen him hanging over a toilet bowl vomiting bile because his detoxing body couldn’t handle any food, had seen him at his lowest.
But his sunken eyes had seen ghosts that day. He’d also, she’d soon learn, seen her on a screen with a countdown timer that – with four men already dead at Eurus’ hands – gave Sherlock no reason not to believe counted the seconds ticking away in the final minutes of Molly’s life.
“I had no other choice, I hope you’ll understand and one day, even forgive me.” He had asked.
“There is nothing to forgive.” She had lied.
The phone call was an experiment, just as he had said. Just not his.
And the words, said twice and so convincingly, were mere lies to save her life.
How could she ever be so daft as to believe them to be true?
She needed time and space to rebuild from the ashes – which was becoming increasingly difficult with the frequency with which Sherlock had been visiting Barts in the last week.
But Molly Hooper had another plan. There was another way she could maintain her space and heal her heart.
---
Sherlock lay across the lounge at Baker Street. His hands were steepled under his chin as he replayed the events of the day again, scouring them for any hints at what was to come.
Sherlock was about to follow Molly out to her favourite lunch place when his phone rang. Normally, he’d ignore a call from his mother, but with the wounds wrought by Eurus’ reappearance from the dead still raw, he had softened of late in his treatment of his parents.
The recovered memories from his childhood now revealed why his parents had always fretted over him so much.
“Morning mother,” he began.
“Oh Sherlock, I’m so glad you answered. Are you well?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the P. “Is that why you called? Checking in on my health? Because it’s easier to text.”
“No dear, it’s Cheryl Williamson – do you remember her, from my square dancing troupe?”
“Yes,” he lied, without any attempt to sound convincing.
His mother continued, “Well it’s her son, James. Well actually it’s his wife Melanie. You see, she’s missing and I was hoping-“
“Solved it.” He cut her off. “She left him.”
“No! That’s just the thing!” His mother persisted, “They’d just been to a couples’ retreat.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. So far, so boring.
“Can you please look into it for me?”
He didn’t have the heart to say no. But he also knew how little attention he could give such a case and still count it as keeping his promise to his mother. Five minutes on the internet should do the trick.
“Of course I will.”
Sherlock hung up before his mother finished showering him with effusive praise.
He needed a computer, and he knew just where to find one.
Having succeeded in avoiding Sherlock earlier, Molly was shocked to find him in her office sat at her computer when she returned to Bart’s.
“Sorry. I had a case,” was his greeting.
“Won’t be long,” he added, all without looking up from the screen.
“Oh, that’s ok, I’ll just-“ Molly placed down her take-away bag from Beppe’s café on the desk and turned to leave.
“You can stay.” He said, gesturing to the visitor’s chair. “It is your office after all.”
As much as she wanted to leave, there was a not insignificant part of her that missed the companionship they used to share as they worked together in the lab. She opened the take-away tiramisu cake and started eating it.
“MrsDawson1976 isn’t a very strong password, Molly”.
“I’ll be sure to change it.”
“I would have pegged you for a Pacey fan, anyway.”
“I would have assumed you would have deleted all knowledge of American teen dramas from the 1990s.”
She should have left it at that, but it was Sherlock and he was on a case, so curiosity got the better of her.
“What’s the case?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Missing woman. Wife of a son of a friend of my mum’s.”
“What a good boy you are,” Molly teased with a wry smile. “Any leads?”
“Not a one,” Sherlock said, frowning, eyes scouring the screen for more clues. “It seems that she left early from a couples retreat four weeks ago and vanished, leaving no trace.”
This was where she would usually chime in. This was where she would have joined him on his side of the desk, standing so close that she could see the stubble forming on his chin, nose filled with the scent of him, a scent she craved and had to admit she had been missing.
But she didn’t join him.
Instead, she stood.
“Good luck with it,” Molly said, standing, punctuating her exit by throwing the empty cake container in the bin.
---
Sherlock watched her go. It was the longest time she’d voluntarily spent in his presence in months, and it had only been a few minutes.
He had seen in her a vacillation, a moment in which she may have come and helped him, but it evaporated in an instant, and Sherlock was left alone.
His searches for Melanie Williamson had yielded no clues. Her mobile phone was dead. Her accounts had not been accessed. Her car remained on the street where she’d parked it in front of her flat before taking the train to North Norfolk for the couples’ retreat.
The woman, it seemed, had evaporated.
Curious indeed.
Online avenues of inquiry all exhausted, Sherlock was about to turn off Molly’s computer when an email alert popped up. Normally, her inbox was full of messages from Mike Stamford, or questions from her various trainees, or subscriptions to online shopping sales from H+M or Topshop, her brands of choice.
He would have ignored all these. But not this one. This one he had to open based on the preview text alone.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Progress of your application
Dear Doctor Hooper, thank you for your interview on Zoom last week. We are in the final stages of reference checks and will inform you of our decision in the coming week.
Warmly,
Jane Harper
HR manager, Glasgow Royal Hospital.
Molly had applied for another job.
Molly had interviewed for another job.
Said job was in Glasgow.
This wouldn’t do. Sherlock strode out of Molly’s office and upstairs to the one man who could make sense of what was going on.
It turns out that Mike was in the middle of a call when Sherlock arrived, and from what Sherlock heard, it was the reference check that the email referred to.
“Hang up.” Sherlock declared.
“Sorry?” Mike said.
“Hang up!”
Sherlock didn’t wait, placing his fingers on the receiver cradle to cut off the call.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mike asked, face reddening.
“What do you think you’re doing, Mike? Molly can’t leave Bart’s!”
“She can if she wants to, mate. Do you know how many headhunters have been after her in the past 10 years? She’s said no to every single one.”
“But what has changed?” He asked himself, rather than Mike.
---
Having reviewed all available data from the day, Sherlock stood from the lounge. Taking his violin out of its case, he plucked at the strings, hoping the familiarity of the instrument would give him peace, help him understand.
He didn’t know how long he had been playing, or precisely what he had been playing, but from the look on Mrs Hudson’s face, it had been a while, and not necessarily music that was soothing to the soul.
“I need to sleep Sherlock,” his landlady had pleaded. “I’ve got the ladies coming over to play bridge tomorrow.”
In the past he would have snapped at her. In the past he would have taken out his frustrations on the wall or on the mantlepiece.
Instead, he stood, grabbing his coat and leaving without a word.
He walked for hours through the streets of London. It was a habit he used to do alone, but during his detox and recovery, Molly had joined him.
Over the course of a few weeks he had shown her all the cases he could remember, those details he hadn’t deleted or outsourced to John’s blog to keep an historical record of.
As he walked tonight, he wasn’t recounting cases, he wasn’t even focusing on the case at hand – the disappearance of Melanie Williamson. All his attention, all his mental energy was spent unpacking the curious behaviour of his pathologist.
It was obvious that Eurus’ little game, her emotional vivisection, was not without its cost. He could see that now, so clearly. Molly had withdrawn from him, and rightly so. But, if he was honest, he had allowed her to.
It would only take one visit to her flat with chips, one phonecall to chat through his thinking in a case, one day like the day they’d spent solving crimes together after his return from the dead and she would see what he already knew, that nothing needed to change, they could return to how things were before Eurus came and fucked everything up between them.
And that was the answer – a case – and one staring him in the face!
Two birds, one stone.
---
It was 5am when Molly awoke to a not unfamiliar sight of Sherlock Holmes stood over her bed.
“What is it?” she said, voice horse, eyes bleary.
“I need help with a case.”
Molly reached for her dressing gown, pulling it tightly around her as she sat up.
“Is there a body?” she asked.
“No.”
“Well, is there some test you need?”
“No.”
“Then what do you need?”
“You-“ a beat, the couplet had passed between them on a night completely different from this one.
Sensing the charged atmosphere in the air, Sherlock continued.
“Four weeks ago, Melanie and James Williamson attended a couples retreat in North Norfolk. Melanie left the retreat early and hasn’t been seen from since.”
“So what do you need?”
“I need you to go undercover with me at the retreat.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No – I’m sure you’ve heard the word before Sherlock.” Molly paced to the kitchen, putting on the kettle.
“I’m familiar with it, but I don’t understand,” he said as he followed her.
“I can’t drop everything and go chasing after white rabbits with you whenever you feel like it.”
Sherlock didn’t understand the reference.
“Alice in Wonderland, look it up sometime.”
Sherlock persisted in his questioning “Why not?”
“I’m not John. I’m not your partner. I’m your-“ Molly paused, stuck for words. “I don’t even know what I am Sherlock. But whatever it is it doesn’t entail being at your beck and call 24/7. I have my own life.”
She didn’t say it but he knew. Glasgow loomed unspoken between them.
He wanted her to stay in London, wanted to tell her how important she was to him, how he couldn’t do his job without her help. He wanted to say he was sorry that things got so fucked up by his sister. He wanted to commit to making things go back to just like they were before the phone call.
He was going to say it all, but the sound of a text alert from Greg sliced through the silence between them.
Sherlock read it, then showed Molly the screen.
James Williamson didn’t show up to work yesterday.
“Two people, Molly. I can’t go in there on my own.”
Everything he could see in Molly, the clench of her jaw, the intake of air sharply through her nose, the fingers balled into fists at her side told him she was about to say no.
Which was why Sherlock was so surprised when she agreed.
“Yes. I’ll go with you.” She said, “but I have some rules first.”
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Boy Talk || Jack & Brandon
When: May 2, 2021
Where: Jack’s apartment, Santa Monica, California
Featuring: Brandon Kelly (dialogue provided by Katie @itsbrandonkelly)
Triggers: Allusion to alcoholism
After firing off a You’d better be home. text to Jack, he realised that he really should have checked first to save him from waiting outside their apartment but that’s why there were so many saying about hindsight. Still, he knocked to let his presence be known instead of texting again, hoping he’d timed his visit well.
Jack was coincidentally home when they received Brandon's text. They got out of the shower when they saw the message. After texting him back with a 'bitch I might be', Jack unlocked their door as well as the entrance door to the apartment building. They followed up with a 'door's open' text and went to go find clothes to put on before Brandon came inside.
He huffed out in amusement at the first response he got and then knocked again at the second before letting himself in. “Who leaves their door open? This is the start to every horror film ever, then again just letting yourself into someone’s home is also how they start.” He called out, heading to the kitchen instead of looking for Jack. He figured they would have answered the door if they weren’t occupied with something else and so they’d join him when they were done. When he found glasses, he settled himself on the couch and shrugged off his jacket.
"I do when I know someone's coming over!" they yelled from behind their closed bedroom door. If someone had actually broken into their apartment for nefarious purposes, Jack was more than prepared to deal with the situation. Once they were presentable, they looked around until they found Brandon in the living room. "Comfy there?" they teased. "You know I love seeing you, but a little more of a heads up would've been nice. I could've still been in the shower. I could've been actively having sex!"
“Who’s supposed to be coming over? I can’t believe you were inviting people to chill and I wasn’t one of them?” Brandon had taken out his phone to sit on the couch with him and had even gotten as far as pouring them both a drink before Jack had come to meet him. “Yep. I made myself at home.” He gave Jack his best smile, even fluttering his eyelashes for good measure. “If you loved seeing me that much you would invite me over to do those things with you. Besides, it’s not much of a surprise visit if I tell you about it, is it?”
“You! I opened the door for you, silly!” Jack looked at the two glasses, then back to Brandon. “Oh shit, the wine that Nyle sent as a moving present! I forgot I had that.” They didn’t want to be rude and throw it out, and figured it would be good to have in case of guests, so they hid it. The fact that they managed to not drink any of it themself was a miracle. “Yeah, I’m not sure how Viv would feel about that... speaking of which. Fun update in my life. I’m kind of seeing someone? Still figuring out labels and whatnot.” Though there were rumors floating around the gossip sphere, Brandon was the first person they confirmed the rumor to.
“Then the door wouldn’t be open so it wouldn’t matter if you were showering or fucking, would it?” Jack’s comment had Brandon looking at the bottle again and picking up the glass closest to it. “Mine is alcoholic. I brought you some appley juice recommended by the best palate I know.” He patted the space beside him before his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You settled before you boned me? Disgusting. Unacceptable.” Despite his words, he started grinning. “I’m so happy for you, babe. That’s cute.”
“Brandon, stop making good points,” they huffed, sitting down on the couch next to Brandon. “Oh, thanks.” While Jack had never explicitly told Brandon why they quit drinking, it appeared that he had gotten the hint. “I’m sorry. It turns out I have a SIMP gene that was activated by me moving to Santa Monica. Who would’ve thunk it?” they joked, knowing damn well that they’ve simped over every person they’ve ever dated.
“I can’t help that I’m brilliant. Sorry buddy; you just gotta live with that I’m afraid.” He hummed quietly in amusement. Brandon simply offered them a smile at their thanks. They never joined in whenever B was drinking and he was nothing if not attentive. Sometimes, at least. “Literally no one because the simp gene has always been in you and always been active but I’ll keep that to myself if it really makes you feel better.”
"All my friends are hot and smart, but I'm just hot. Story of my life." Jack sighed, taking a sip of the juice that was so graciously provided to them. "Excuse me?!" Jack exclaimed overdramatically. "Are you calling me a simp? In the comfort of my own apartment?! I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment. I don't know how I'll go on!" They busted into laughter, unable to keep the act up.
“You’re hot and smart. What the fuck are you talking about? Be nice to my friend or I’ll kick your ass.” He reached his foot out to nudge Jack with, an amused smile on his face. “Plus, you’re also super hot, own it. And yes. I’m calling you a simp. You’re the themperor of simpington. Population... Uh, I don’t know how many people are in Santa Monica but that’s the population.”
“Brandon, I was a straight-C student in high school and have the common sense of a bag of potato chips. I know my strengths and weaknesses.” Jack knew they weren’t book smart and it didn’t bother them. “Excuse me, I am not Themperor Simpington. That title belongs to Sunwoo Seong. Have you met them? But they did skip town a while back... shit. I didn’t ask for this title. I need to find a new non-binary friend to bestow this title on. I just need more enby friends in general.”
“You don’t have the common sense of a bag of potato chips, Jesus Christ Jack.” Brandon laughed as he slapped Jack’s arm. “You’ve survived this long in this industry, babe. That’s not down to potato chip brain, even I nearly crashed out a couple of years in.” He raised an eyebrow, head tilted as he fixed them a look of disapproval. “You are Themperor Simpington. The queen has spoken. I met Sunwoo once and obviously offered to climb that tree but they left and Joonie was sad so I’m no longer a fan of tall, hot and dimpled. If it makes you feel any better, I’m a huge simp for my sweet boy.”
“Hey, I’m funny. Fuck you,” they retorted, chuckling. “I’ve been told that I’m charismatic, and that’s helped me out in the industry. I’m still not that famous though.” While Jack was relatively well-known in queer circles, heterosexual circles were a whole other ballpark. Being friends with Brandon and recently befriending Vanessa did help their social standing though. “Themperor Simpington my butt,” they grumbled. “Wait, when you say ‘my sweet boy,’ do you mean Minjoon or do you have another boo I should know about?”
“Bitch, I been trying to get you to for so long now. I was starting to think you needed glasses.” Bee broke into a laugh before he even finished his sentence, nudging Jack’s arm in his giggling. “Yeah, you have to have a look and you have to be charming to start work in this industry but to survive in it? You have to be smart. About that though, I know I keep promising you a space on my next project and it’s had a few.. speed bumps I guess? Not really speed bumps but personal delays? Either way, I know enough now to be able to tell you that Queen B’s.. that I’m releasing a trial perfume.. fragrance line. Five scents to start, each will have its own colour have theme shots with, each will have its own model to associate with and I want you, if you’re interested?” Their mumbling made Brandon grin, coughing as a terrible fake attempt at covering up the ‘Simp.’ he titled them with again. “Minjoon is my sweet boy. I don’t have another boo, not even a little bit but if you hear simp alarms going off whenever I like the instas of a very beautiful friend of mine then mind ya business.”
"Oh my god. Brandooooon!" Though Jack had quite a few friends with benefits in their days, whenever the thought of doing anything with Brandon crossed their mind, they thought about the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed seventeen-year-old they met all those years ago. Jack's eyes lit up when he started talking about his fragrance line project. "Oh hell yeah I'm interested. Just remember, my favorite colors are purple and pink." They winked at Brandon. Aside from one photoshoot in L.A. that they did after fashion weeks, their work schedule was dryer than a desert. Of course they wouldn't tell him that though. They didn't want to sound desperate. Jack would've taken this job even if they weren't in need of work. "B, you're gonna have to be a little more specific than that. I know you. You don't befriend ugly people."
The laugh that left him this time was more of a giggle and he scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “I tease but honestly, you’re practically family. Did you know that my parents ask after you? They know as much about you as I do but.. Well, they’re embarrassing. Eh, mom’s okay. Dad’s embarrassing so you’ll probably never meet them but yeah.. They get told about the important people in my life and you’ve been in it longer than Joonie.” Brandon groaned, setting his glass down. “Can’t believe I’m being gross and emotional already. Moving on..” He said, a little louder. “Purple would be fantastic for you. It’s a very royal colour and I’m going to do the obvious and lean into that a little but silk, not velvet. Pink was going to have a sweet-candy-lace vibe to it but if you want pink I can give you pink.” Brandon rolled his eyes, despite the heat he could feel spreading up his neck. “I have a... friend called Kian and he’s... There hasn’t been a word invented yet for how beautiful he is and it’s ridiculous and gross because I don’t lose my mind over pretty boys but he’s.. He makes me blush, Jack. I don’t blush.”
"Brandooooooooon! Stop, you're gonna make me blush. I'd love to meet your parents. Parents love me. Well, actually, I just love milfs and dilfs," Jack cackled at their own dumb joke. "But in all seriousness, let me know when they come to town!" As much as they wanted to meet Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, they didn't want to go to the Kelly home to do so. Jack knew that they shared a home state with Brandon, and didn't want to reenter North Carolina at the risk of running into their family. "Ooh, purple and silk? Now you're speaking my language!" Jack wiggled their eyebrows when Brandon mentioned Kian by name. "A yes, the cute delivery boy. You've mentioned him before. We're Instagram mutuals!"
“Do it! Blush, you coward!” Brandon laughed, leaning against Jack’s arm to nudge them. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I have to say this but if you’re gonna fuck my parents, please don’t date them and wait until I’m out of the room if you’re going to flirt, I don’t need to see that. They really would love to meet you though, they’ve been waiting for permission to come to town.” Brandon grinned at Jack at their approval, giving a small nod. “I’ll get some things drawn up for you. I do have a few already as rough drafts but now I know you’re taking it, I can design something a little more tailored to you.” The warmth spreading across his cheeks and colouring his face a darker shade of pink only grew worse as Jack wiggled their brows at him. “Yeah.. Well.. He’s almost perfect. The only thing I’d change about him is his last name.” His reaction to himself was instant, throwing himself against the cushions to yell out a laugh. “And I keep saying dumb cheesy shit like that! I’m a bumbling mess around him. Like.. Like I start off all smooth and collected and then he smiles and I’m just.. fucking applying to be hired by hallmark. It’s.. It’s so cringe and gross and... I’m happy.”
"Brandon, I'll become your new step-parent and ground you, don't tempt me," Jack joked, cackling. "Well give it to them! Don't deprive me of your loving parents!" Jack didn't have loving parents of their own, so if Brandon's parents were anything like Brandon, Jack was going to latch to them like nobody's business. "Oh my goooooooooooood, that was so coooooorrrrnnnnnyyyyy! Damn, and you call me a simp! I'm not out here reciting poetry on main about my crush. And if you bring up the fact that we have keys to each others' apartments, mind your business." Jack knew they were simping hard over Vivian, but now it was Brandon's turn to be in the hot seat. "So have you considered, you know, talking to him?"
“Their ex girlfriend actually tried that once. Oh my god, it was kind of funny though. You’ll have to treat me better when our guests arrive and do as you’re told or I’ll have you cut off until you learn some damn respect.” He mimicked in a too high voice, rolling his eyes afterwards. “Like.. Honey, I’ve only just noticed you’re not the last guy they were dating and that’s only because you started pterodactyl screeching.” Despite his playful tone, Brandon could feel warmth spreading across his face. “Yeah, okay. I’ll.. I’ll invite them up to meet you.” Having made peace with the fact that he‘d made himself into a product, his parents were off limits when it came to the people in his life, knowing how fickle and superficial a lot of his relationships with people were. It was different with Jack though, Jack really was his friend. “Honestly, I’ve been an absolute mess. I pulled the whole ‘My friends call me B, you can call me any time.’ Thing on him when we met and now I just blush all the time and feel nauseous over butterflies.” He waved his hand quickly at Jack’s news, shaking his head. “NUH uh.. We are not going to just gloss over that? Oh my god? Keys? You’re entering domesticity. Like.. Me and Joonie levels of domesticity and my parents are the founders of the BranJoon wedding fan club. Like.. You’re getting into that territory..” There was a small pause before a smile spread across his face. “I’m happy for you, babe. Honestly. You deserve this.” He couldn’t help but sigh at the question, sinking into his seat a little with a pout on his features and a small shrug. “I’ve been so obvious about it. Short of getting a neon sign to carry around, I don’t know how much more obvious I could be and sometimes it feels like he’s being obvious back? Like.. It feels like it’s not just one sided? And then I start having a gay panic and do something dumb because he’s way out of my league which is a new thing for me. I do want to though. Should I?”
"Hold up, hold up. I said that as a joke. You're telling me that your parents are actually non-monogamous?! And you didn't tell me until now?! I came out as polyam like, 2-3 years ago! And now I'm in a monogamous set-up again. I missed my shot. I'm hurt." Jack put their hands over their chest and sniffled, but almost immediately returned to their usual cheerful demeanor. "I'm kidding, I'm not gonna become your step-daddy, or... I don't know what a gender-neutral equivalent would be besides 'parent,' and that doesn't roll of the tongue as well." This wasn't something they had to think about right away. It wasn't like they were going to wake up tomorrow with a child. "Ah yes, your infamous pick-up line." Jack's face turned pink when Brandon acknowledged the keys. "Okay, I actually do have an explanation! I initially gave her my spare key because I asked her to water my plants when I was away for Fashion Week. Granted, she didn't do a good job and managed to kill both plants, but that's an aside. But yeah, I just never asked for the spare key back." Jack gave Brandon a shoulder pat. They really didn't know Kian, so couldn't tell what the full situation was. "What I've learned from my many years of dating men is that men are dumb and sometimes you literally need to spell things out for them."
“As momma dearest says, monogamy is for the weak. Anyway, they were already in a relationship when you came out. Also? I don’t want to be hooking my parents up with my hotties?” Brandon pulled a face at Jack, nose scrunched up in disapproval. “To be fair though, you and Viv wouldn’t even be the first couple they’ve dated. You’d be the first I’d... somewhat approve of but..” He shrugged before laughing. “Oh my god. There are a couple.. Zaza or zeze instead of dada and mama but given the chance I’d mash up dad and mom and just refer to you as my dom to make everyone in the room uncomfortable.” He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I hate this so much, Jack please.” “I think it’s funny, definitely in my top 3 introductions.” He found himself sitting up straighter when he noticed the blush on Jack’s cheeks, a grin forming on his own features. “Oh my god. She killed your plants and you let her keep your key? Say it with me, babe. Simp. You’re cute though. I’m totally 100% on board with the two of you. She was one of my heroes.” When the conversation turned back to him, Brandon tilted his head as he weighed his options. “Not Kiki but... You’re right, I guess. He’s probably so used to everyone being in love with him that my flirting is just baseline niceties. Okay, yeah. I’ll.. I’ll tell him that I’m crazy about him. Or I’ll just text him that aggressive meme about wanting to hold hands.”
"Aaaaah, your parents are so cool! I wish my parents were cool like that. Mine are just homophobic." There was a lot more to Sofia and Tony Corleone than just that, but very few people knew about them. This was very much intentional. They made a face at 'zaza' and 'zeze.' "Yeah, not really digging those ones... Wait. Dom?!" Jack paused to laugh. "Fucking hell. Yes. That's definitely what my future kids are gonna call me." Jack never brought up the topic of kids to Vivian. They were still very early in their relationship and Jack was afraid they were too old to be a parent. It was still a nice thought though. "Yeah. I got back from Paris and she was having a bad day, so I ordered a pizza and we just... talked. Had a real heart-to-heart. I ended up staying the night, and we've basically had an open-door policy with each other ever since. And then the next day I went back into my apartment and found out about the plants." Jack grabbed a pillow from the couch and lightly smacked Brandon's arm with it. "I know, I know! I'm a big sappy simpy mush. I'm a Cancer, I don't know what you expect from me." It took Jack a long time to accept their emotional side, but now they openly embraced it. "Or he might not know how to recognize flirting. I've met many people like that. Like the cute DJ at that bar where Minjoon used to work. Or Minjoon himself!”
“My parents have a big bank balance and even bigger hearts. That’s why I don’t approve of a lot of their partners but yeah.. As much as I give them shit for being lame, they’re the coolest. I mean, they’re the only reason I’m even.. y’know... Around.” Brandon let out an unattractive snort and sat forward to retrieve his glass, pouting when he realised it was empty but simply sat back instead of refilling it. “Please, I am begging you, think carefully as to why I’d find calling you my dom funny before you commit to that decision.” He pressed his lips together to fight his laugh before he let out a soft hum. “Do you think that’s where you’re headed with her? Is she someone you can see yourself having kids with?” He asked softly, his whole demeanour changing from playful now that they had ventured into serious topics. “You don’t have to say yes and you don’t have to have an answer right now. Things are still new with you both and y’know... Take it from the adopted, some people don’t want kids and some do.” He shrugged a little.
“Ew. You talked to each other over pizza because one of you had a bad day? That’s disgusting.” When hit with the pillow, Brandon grabbed it to tug it away from Jack so they couldn’t attack him again and he hugged it to his chest, propping his chin on it. “I live for that kind of domesticity.” He sighed wistfully. “You are a big simpy mush and I love that about you. It’s gross and honest and just very sweet. I’m really glad you have someone who makes you feel that way, babe.” Brandon rolled his eyes and gave the pillow a small squeeze. “Vito really doesn’t recognise flirting? The dude wants to be an actor! With a face like that a lot of his roles are probably going to have it. I wanted to ask if he wanted any help getting into it because he was good to Joonie when they worked together and I always appreciate people taking care of the babie but I also feel like I don’t know him well enough to just give him a shout about a job. Eh. Maybe I’ll get Joonie to text him about this perfume thing and actually see what skills he has. Joonbug doesn’t count for the whole flirting thing though, attraction isn’t really his thing.”
"I gotcha," Jack stated, nodding. They had a similar problem when they first started modeling. They loved to spoil their loved ones-- and still do-- and people often took advantage of their generosity. As Jack grew older, they learned how to weed out the moochers. Of course Brandon was never a moocher; he wasn't the type to take without giving, plus he had plenty of his own money. Jack watched for Brandon's reaction, then chuckled in response to his face. "Babe, I know. I was joking. Could you imagine?!" They shrugged at Brandon's question. "Honestly, I have no idea. I think it's too soon to talk about that kinda stuff. I thought I was never gonna become a parent because Sage didn't want kids, but, you know, they're not my fiancé anymore." Sage not wanting kids wasn't the main reason the engagement was broken off, but it was a bone of contention in the relationship.
"Oh hush. One day you'll have a heart-to-heart over pizza too. Well, maybe not because of the whole gluten thing, but some food that you enjoy." They stuck their tongue out at Brandon. "Ohh, that's his name! At least he didn't recognize me flirting with him. Could just be that he wasn't into me because he's straight, but I'm hot so that's dumb." Jack didn't want to have sex with straight dudes anyways, so they didn't consider it a major loss. "Attraction isn't his thing? Is he asexual or something?" they asked curiously. "Wait a minute, you're deflecting!"
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Dopamine Chapter 5
Previous Chapter
“Hey, Sero! Thanks for hosting tonight,” Kirishima said as he pulled an ice-cold beer out of the fridge. “It’s been a long time since we had a guys night.”
Sero nodded as he looked over the Uno cards in his hand. “No problem dude. I’m always happy to pull you away from your old ball and chain.”
“Well, Marina and I are still a while off from the wedding.” Kirishima chuckled as he rejoined the game, the guys all gathered around Sero’s kitchen table.
“Fuck, don’t get him talking about Fish Sticks,” Bakugou grumbled. “He’ll never shut up.” Kirishima’s fiancé Marina had always rubbed Bakugou the wrong way but even he couldn’t deny the fact that they were made for each other. That fact aside, he still refused to call her by name.
“Speaking of little ladies…” The redhead smirked, before playing his card down on the pile. “Bakugou! Would you be so kind as to give us an update on your mystery woman?”
It had been a few days since Bakugou and Jada’s date. The blonde couldn’t deny the chemistry between them, but he was resigned to keep things casual for now. Love and hero work just didn’t mix. It’s only a distraction and gives your enemies something to use against you. Even so, he couldn’t get the dark-skinned beauty out of his mind ever since he first laid his eyes on her.
“Mystery woman?” Kaminari questioned as he played a draw 2 card. “The one he ditched us for on Mina’s birthday?”
“The one and the same,” Kirishima smirked, turning toward his friend. “Spill dude.”
Bakugou scoffed, playing his turn. “I don’t kiss and tell boys.”
“Boo you whore!” Kaminari laughed.
“We need to know more about the chick that effectively pulled you out of the booty call business.” Sero pushed as he took a drink of his beer.
I’m pretty sure I’m her booty call. But not for long. “I don’t owe you guys shit.”
“Can we get a name a least?”
“It’s Jada!” Kirishima confessed with a toothy grin.
“Jada!” Kaminari cooed. “First name basis already?! Things are getting serious!”
Bakugou only shrugged, drinking his beer. “She’s American so... not really.”
“Oh American!” Sero quirked a brow, laying down his card. “Taking a page out of Todoroki’s book, huh?” He smirked, sure he’d get a rise out his friend.
“I’m nothing like fucking Half n Half!” The ash-blonde barked.
“You don’t know what you’re missing with these American girls, Sero.” Kirishima smiled, laying down a wild card. “They’re so bold. Jada certainly isn’t letting Bakugou off easy. Oh, and I pick Blue.”
“Ooof I love it when they play hard to get,” The electric hero groaned, biting his lip. “Only makes me want them more.”
“We know.” The rest of the gang deadpanned.
Sero shook his head as Kaminari played a reverse card. “You went after Jiro for a solid 3 years before you got wise.”
“Oh, Jiro…,” Denki sighed lovingly. “The one that got away. I really thought we had an unspoken thing.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes with a grunt. “She was fucking gay you twat!”
“Well, I know that now! Also, can we talk about how hot she and YaoMomo are together? I mean damn.”
“I thought we were grilling Bakugou?” Kirishima interjected, playing a draw 4 card.
“Yeah,” Sero agreed, picking up his cards before playing his turn. “You’re not off the hook yet. Tell us!”
“Fuckin weirdos.” Bakugou hummed, leaning back in his chair. He never liked to talk about his exploits but he took pity on the guys. He was the only one of them actually dating besides Kirishima and his almost married stories were just a mushy love fest. “You know I only like the best so…” He smirked, looking around the room as his friends waited in anticipation. “She has this crazy body… like stacked. Legs for days. Piercings. Green eyes and smooth dark skin…”
“American and Black?” Kaminiari interrupted. “I sense a pattern here.” Sero shushed him, urging Bakugou to continue.
“She’s smart too. She fixed my gauntlet with just tools in her purse,” He chuckled, remembering her tinkering on his gauntlet with ease. “She’s unpredictable. Whenever I think she’s gonna go right, she goes left. It drives me fucking crazy but there’s something about her.” He paused, stroking the stubble of his beard as he mumbled. “She’s just different.”
The room fell silent as they looked at their explosive friend in awe until Kirishima finally said what they all were thinking. “Dude. You’re gushing. Like actually gushing about a girl.” He paused as a huge grin pulled at his lips. “You’re catching feelings!”
“The fuck I am!”
“Yes, you are! Ask me how I know.”
“I swear to God if you bring up Marina again I will--”
“You just called her Marina!” Kirishima laughed as his friend let loose a small explosion in his hardened face.
“Don’t be shy, dude,” Sero teased. “It’s about time actually. We were getting worried about you.”
“Shut up!” Bakugou grumbled. “Let’s get back to the game.”
“Okay, let’s hurry this up because I’m ready to move onto phase two of the night,” Kaminari said as he played another reverse card.
“What’s phase two?” The redhead asked as he played a reverse card back to Kaminari.
“It’s a surprise!”
“I’m probably gonna hate it but fine.” Bakugou huffed.
“Uno!” The electric hero cheered as he played yet another reverse card.
“Fuck!” Bakugou yelled as he looked over to his guilty-looking redheaded friend. “Shitty hair if you play another reverse I’m going to reverse your existence.”
“I’m sorry! That’s all I can play!” He grimaced as he laid down the card.
“And a wild card for the win!” Kaminari boasted, laying down his last card. “Fork it over bitches!”
The men all groaned as they took out their wallets, each tossing 10k yen onto the table. “Why were we playing and betting on fucking Uno anyway?” Bakugou mumbled.
“Because Denki doesn’t know how to play poker.” Sero huffed.
Kirishima chuckled. “Well, it worked out fine for him I guess…”
“Okay, it’s time for phase two!” Kaminari said as he pocketed the money. “We’re going to the strip club! I’m gonna take your money and make it rain!“
__________________________________________________________________________
Filing out of the uberX, the boys made their way to a seemingly everyday luxury building, Denki talking over his shoulder, “Guys you are going to love this place. It’s called The Secret Garden. Super classy and discrete.”
Sero laughed as he pulled out his ID, walking up to the bouncer at the door. “Dude all I need to know is are the girls hot?”
“Well duh.” The electric hero chuckled. “My girl Tiffany can throw it back.”
“I should probably call Marina and tell her the change of plans,” Kirishima mumbled apologetically as he took out his cell phone.
“Heh. Pussy.” Bakugou jeered as his friend stepped away to call his fiancé.
It was then that Kaminari looked amongst his friends as they all took turns showing their IDs. “Everybody’s got cash money, right? The ladies do not take cards. I found that out the hard way.” With an affirmation from the rest of the crew, Kirishima returned to the group, pocketing his cell phone.
“What did Fish Sticks say?” Bakugou asked the redhead with a smug smirk. “Do you have to go crawling back home with your dick between your legs?”
“She’s cool,” he shrugged. “She said I could browse the menu as long as I don’t order anything.”
“No lap dances for you then.” Sero laughed.
“That’s cool,” Denki said with a bright smile, leading everyone inside. “The main stage is where the best girls dance anyway.”
As the men made their way up to the mainstage of the club, Bakugou took a moment to gauge his surroundings. There was mellow house music pumping through the speakers has men and even a few women sat around in comfy chairs as gorgeous scantily clad women danced sensually on top of them or just talked with them seemingly enjoying their company. Strip clubs always made Bakugou vaguely uncomfortable but he couldn’t put his finger on just why. Maybe it was just the very public nature of traditionally intimate activities. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no way he was going to be seen as the prude of the group.
The group of friends all sat down around the edge of the main stage, each pulling out a healthy wad of cash to prepare for their first dance. Denki however, took it a step further as per usual. The hero pulled out a money gun, eagerly loading it up with his Uno winnings from earlier that night. As the others rolled their eyes at their eccentric friend, a petite pink-haired woman dressed in a frilly lace baby doll set walked up to the man with a sweet smile. “Mr. Kaminari welcome back! It’s been so long since you last came to play with us.” Sakura cooed as she batted her lashes.
“Princess! Good to see you! I’m sorry it’s been a while. Duty calls.” Denki smirked as he flexed his biceps, not so subtly. “Tiffany should be performing on the main stage tonight, right?”
“Umm, how many times have you been here?” Kirishima whispered to his electric friend.
“Sorry hun,” Sakura apologized. “She called in sick tonight. But my girl Nubia is about to go on. She always puts on an amazing show.”
“Nubia, huh?” Denki hummed as he scratched his chin. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of watching her dance. This should be fun!”
Bakugou sighed as he stood up from his seat. “I’m gonna go get a beer.” The man made his way back to the bar, the bartender taking his order as the lights on the mainstage went out, a woman crossing the floor. He hummed as he paid for his drink taking a sip as the MC’s voice rang through the speakers.
“Welcome back to the main stage our exotic beauty and tonight your faithful assistant, Nubia!”
As the lights lifted, Bakugou watched from the bar as the dancer stood on stage, her back to the audience. Dressed in tight office attire, she tossed random papers into the air as James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s World” played throughout the club. (https://youtu.be/ilMV5tu9bcQ)
And then she turned around.
No. Fucking. Way. The explosive hero nearly choked on his beer as he stared. He knew those dark locs and green eyes anywhere. The woman on stage was in fact, Jada Jackson.
He continued to watch from afar as she twirled around the pole to the music, slowly peeling off articles of clothing until she was left in a silver bra and thong set. He clenched his fists as he seethed watching her long legs wave in the air, her curves on full display. This can’t be happening. Bakugou willed himself to stay calm as his friends cheered her on, cursing under his breath as she finally rid herself of her metallic bra, leaving her chest bare to the world. It was then that Jada crawled across the stage floor, right up to his friends staring in awe.
Jada smirked as she went up to the blonde who had been very enthusiastic, shooting yen bills onto the stage with his money gun. Kaminari practically drooled as his eyes flicked from her full breasts to her green eyes and back again, “Good God, where have you been all my life?”
“Waiting for you, sweetheart,” Jada breathed as she moved her body seductively, her eyes flicking to the large wad of cash in his hand. “Is that for me?”
“Uh-huh!”
“Then slide it in, baby.” She smirked as she stretched out the band of her thong. Denki eagerly slipped the stack of bills into the band as she let out a lewd moan followed by a delighted giggle. “I love a nice thick one.”
Denki gulped, exploring all the possibilities in his mind. “Let me take you away from all this…”
Next, Jada turned her gaze to Sero, a nervous smile plastered across his face. “Look at that smile. Aren’t you a cutie.”
“T-thank you, ma’am.” He stuttered as he put his cash tip into her thong band as well.
“So polite. Thank you, sir.” Jada gave him a wink before crawling over to her next target, Kirishima. She giggled to herself as she knelt on her knees before him, his eyes refusing to look anywhere below her neck. “Someone looks a little shy.”
“Heh yeah… maybe a bit.” He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck timidly.
“Relax, honey. I don’t bite.” She purred as Kirishima laughed, showing off his pointy pearly whites. “Oh. But maybe you do.” Jada breathed as she came up with an idea. “I think I’d like these chompers right… here.” Just then, the ravenette grabbed his head, pulling his face into her large breasts, giving them a shimmy for added effect.
THE FUCK?! Bakugou couldn’t believe his eyes. He silently seethed as he chugged his beer. Here was his girl, the woman he had invested so much time and energy on, and his friends are ogling her freely. His palms popped and sparked as he crushed his beer can in his fist as Jada finished her dance, collecting her clothes and tips before disappearing into the back. The hero stomped back up to the stage with his eyes filled with rage, Denki taking notice of his friend.
“Dude! You missed the whole dance! I think I just met my future wife.”
“Shut the fuck up Kaminari.” Bakugou practically spat, as he walked up to another dancer. “Oi! The girl that was just on stage. When is she coming back out?”
The woman looked him up and down before giving the hero a playful smirk. “You want a dance, baby? I’d be happy to help you out.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He said dismissively. “When is Ja- Nubia coming back out?”
“I’ll go get her.”
The dancer turned on her heel with a sigh before walking backstage and into the dressing room. “Hey, Jada?” She looked around the small crowded area quickly finding the dark-skinned beauty amongst her fairer colleagues.
“Yeah?” She asked as she fixed her makeup.
“You got a request for a dance.”
“Really?” Jada mumbled, a smile pulling at her plump lips. “Must be my lucky night. I got some great tippers stageside tonight. Was it the skinny blonde one with the black streak in his hair?”
“No it was a blonde but he had a spikey undercut… super buff too.” The dancer hummed as she played with her hair. “Nasty attitude though so I would be careful. Should I tell Tanaka to keep an eye on him?”
“NO!” Jada yelled before quickly recovering, “Um I mean, I got it. I’ll be right out, just let me change into a new set.”
After quickly changing into a new navy bra and pantie set, Jada nervously made her way back onto the club floor, praying to whoever would listen. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. She held her breath as she looked around the room, a pair of ruby red eyes locking with hers instantly. Fuck it is him. Her heart dropped into her stomach as the ash-blonde walked up to her, practically steaming. “Hi handsome, you want a dance?”
“You’re just gonna act like everything’s fine? Really?” Bakugou fumed. “Were you ever gonna tell me?!”
“Okay! Sounds like you want a private dance! Follow me to the champagne room, sir.”
With a flip of her long dark locs, Jada led Bakugou out across the floor, his friends quickly taking notice. He ignored their cheers for what they thought would be a seductive dance at his request. Instead, their hoots and hollers only fueled his rage even more. Once inside the ultra-private champagne room, Jada was the first one to speak. “I can explain.”
“This should be rich, Dimples.”
“This is only temporary.”
“Temporary?” He scoffed as he crossed his muscular arms.
“Yes!” Even she knew she didn’t sound very convincing.
Bakugou laughed, rolling his eyes. “I swear to God if you tell me you’re only doing this to pay for law school or some bullshit like that--”
“I’m doing this to pay for a number of things that I’m not at liberty to discuss with you. And frankly, I don’t owe you shit!”
“Well, you’re so full of shit that you must have plenty to go around!”
Jada bit her lip as she let out a deep sigh. She really didn’t think she was going to have this conversation with him this soon if ever. “Look, I have to make a living, same as everybody else. When YOU go to the strip club someone has to dance for you. So obviously you were okay with that arrangement as long as your girl wasn’t on stage.”
“I didn’t want to fucking come! The point is you fucking lied to me!”
“I never lied to you.”
“You didn’t tell me the whole truth!”
“You didn’t ask the right questions.”
Bakugou groaned as he raked his hand through his hair, exasperated. “Fuck! I can’t believe you actually had me bragging to my boys about you. Me! Bakugou fucking Katsuki gushing over a woman.” The hero was so furious he was shaking. In fact, he was more than furious, he was embarrassed. “I sang your praises to my friends only for you to turn around and take your clothes off for them!” He laughed as he shook his head in disgust. “Oh, and you let my best friend motorboat you too. Can’t forget that.”
The ravenette paused, taking a step back, turning her eyes away from his burning gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. You and friends came here to be entertained and I delivered.”
“I’m a Pro Hero for fucks sake!” Bakugou yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “I can’t date a stripper. Not knowing any extra off the street with a yen can see your goods.”
Jada paused, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction, but she didn’t expect the bite of his words to cut her so deep. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you were a bad idea. “Well, let me rid you of that problem. You won’t be seeing me anymore.” She said coldly before holding her hand out to him. “That’s 55,000 yen for the dance.”
“What?!” He barked in confusion.
“The champagne room is super private and luxurious. No cameras so as to not hurt your precious image.” She hissed as her nose began to tingle. “It costs more and my boss is expecting a cut.” Don’t you fucking do it, Jada. You will not cry in front of him. “I know you’re good for it so let’s not drag this out.”
The blonde scoffed, digging into this pants pocket to pull out his wallet. “I can’t believe I have to pay for a fucking fight,” he mumbled, taking out a wad of cash. “You didn’t even dance…”
“Yeah but like you said…” Jada said as she snatched the money from his hand. “Your boys enjoyed the show, didn’t they?”
To stop himself from completely losing his cool, Bakugou pushed past the woman and stomped back out onto the club floor. He sulked up to his group of friends, now watching a new dancer on stage. Kirishima was the first one to spot him, immediately noticing his abnormally hostile energy and his overly red face.
“Whoa! Where’s the fire, bro?”
“We’re leaving!” Bakugou bellowed, walking over to the door.
“Dude, what happened?” Sero asked as they all got up from their seats before following Bakugou out of the building. “Did you not like your dance? She was hot.”
“Did you like it a little too much?” Denki chuckled as he gave the ash-blonde a slap on the back. “Cuz I mean I wouldn’t blame ya. That’s a meal I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“SHUT UP!” Bakugou yelled, punching his well-meaning friend in the face, his frustrations finally getting the better of him. Stumbling backward, Kaminari held his nose in his hands as he groaned in pain.
“Katsuki! What the fuck dude?!” Kirishima shouted as he steadied the electric hero. “What’s the matter with you?”
“That was her!” Bakugou boomed as he paced the sidewalk.
“Who?”
“Jada!”
The men all stared at Bakugou blankly, not understand who he meant.
“The stripper…” he explained through gritted teeth. “Nubia. It’s fucking Jada!”
The group of friends all looked at each other in confusion until the reality of the situation finally clicked into place, all of them shouting at once, “FUCK!”
Meanwhile, inside the club, Jada left the champagne room with her head hung low as she silently counted the wad of cash from her almost beau. Eizan was right… I was stupid for even trying. With a sigh, she sauntered backstage to the dressing room, plopping down in her makeup chair. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice her best friend pull up a seat next to her.
“Wow, girl look at that fat wad! What did you have to do to get that?” Sakura asked cheerfully.
“Nothing…” Jada breathed, putting the cash away for safekeeping.
“Sweetheart, why do you look so upset? What happened? Did that guy do something to you?” The pink-haired woman quickly looked her friend over for any marks or bruises, her concern growing.
“No, I'm fine.” Jada insisted as she touched up her makeup, taking special care that her eyeliner and mascara were still intact. “I just got a reality check is all.”
Chapter 6 | Masterlist
#dopamine#chapter 5#ch5#ch 5#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou x black reader#bakugou x black oc#bakugou#bakugou x oc#bakugou x original character#black oc#black reader#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#bnha angst#bnha imagines#bnha writings#bnha writing blog#poc writer#kirishima eijirou#sero hanta#kaminari denki
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Dream a little Dream of Me (KNJ)
Summary: Sometimes being in a long distance relationship isn’t so bad, other days Namjoon wakes up and misses you so bad he almost feels like it will summon into existence (and the one time it actually was)
Word count: 9.3k
Tags: Long distance relationship au, Fluffy smut, Namjoon makes sweet (and slightly blasphemous) love to the reader, oral (M. + F. receiving), light spanking, mostly vanilla accept for the dirty talk, unprotected sex, cock warming, Namjoon is hung af and he has a bit of a size kink so he likes it.
Song Rec: BTS – Home
A/N: this one-shot was inspired heavily by the song Tokyo! I started writing it way back when mono first came out which is why it is set in the past! I hope you guys like it!
Waking up to you is Namjoon’s absolute favorite way to start the day.
There are a few sublime moments- the skin of your fingers along his lips, the slight brush of conditioned hair, soft at the ends brushing his face and the shifting of a familiar weight across his lap as you sling your legs over his. the weight of your body and he feeling of your soft skin pressed against his that rouse him gently from sleep. He wakes up and groans, but keeps his eyes closed, a hand coming up to rub against your back as he steadies you where you sit across his lap, peppering kisses across his bare chest.
“Good morning sleepyhead, or should I say afternoon,” your lovely lilting voice says against the skin just below his jaw. Maybe today is a Saturday or a Sunday or a Monday, he could have work in an hour or in five minutes but that he is not going to get up from this spot no matter what, not for anything. He hums a hello against your lips. All he wants is to spend the rest of time wrapped up in your arms, eyes closed against the early morning sunlight, idyllic and all too yellow behind his eyelids.
“Namjoon” you slur, sleepy, fingers running across his collarbones and making him shiver. He’s a little too cold for the warm summer light streaming through that window, his hands tighten on your warm body. “Namjoon?” your voice strengthens deepening far lower than it should be, and then he’s knocked out of the dream ripped away from you by someone’s hands on his shoulders, larger and rougher, and definitely not his girlfriends.
“Namjoon you need to wake up,” Seokjin says as Taehyung rips back the covers out of his hands, where he’s been clenching at them, waking up Namjoon with the cold draft of air. Namjoon sleepily opens his eyes, And he takes in not you, not his bedroom or yours on the other side of the world. No sunlight only cold Tokyo in the middle of winter.
He’s still half asleep, hand still reaching out for someone who’s not even in this country let alone this side of the world. The lingering endorphins from the brief Sleep paralysis makes him feel like he’s still asleep before he crashes down to earth. “Namjoon- oh my god- get up we have to go.”
“What?” Namjoon mumbles still reeling from sudden wakefulness. His legs and arms feel like pins and needles. Like he left them in the sunny morning with you halfway in-between the dream world and here. The crushing reality of a long distance relationship: that dream is the closest he’s going to get to you this month.
Taehyung sighs, annoyed. “Wheels up on the jet in 50, we need to leave in ten and you’re still not packed” Namjoon curses and Tae starts piling his things into a suitcase with little regard for any order as Seokjin tosses him a pair of pants and his cosmetic bag that holds the stuff for his morning routine.
“Why didn’t you try to wake me sooner?” Namjoon asks through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Jimin did,” Taehyung says helping their leader pack away his laptop, “you just wanted to sleep still” that’s right, he’d been up into the early hours of the morning working on his mixtape and that was the reason why he felt so out of sorts. There wasn’t another reason, the little bit of his chest that had tighten when he’d woken up again and found you not next to him, again, for the nth time this month, of course not.
He checks his phone half a dozen times for a text message from you in-between the ride to the airport and takeoff, checking and double checking the time where you are. You’re still at work and your current workplace has a strict no phones rule. But his phone still feels heavy in his pocket even as their private jet readies for takeoff. His numbness lingering even as he gets on the plane and watches the ground falls out from underneath him.
Most days, your long distance relationship was an unintended consequence of both of your busy lives. You both kept in contact as much as possible through your days. But times like this when Namjoon was on tour were extra difficult for both of you when the variance in his schedule made it impossible for you to fall into your usual routine of calls. He’d talked to you late last night of course, as you’d been waking up to go to work.
Namjoon tried his best he really did, but sometimes, like today, the distance between your two cities got to him. He waits during the long plane flight anxious until he gets the chance to just talk to you again, not even see you. The jumpy feeling of wanting to sleep never quite leaves his bones during the flight.
He steals himself just as they get off the plane back in Seoul at 11 am when you should be just getting out of work. He calls, and you don’t pick up, and he feels himself crumple further. Fuck- he just- he really wanted to talk to you after last night, maybe tell you about his dream like he always did. And he wanted to hear your teasing voice over the phone teasing him about having his head in the clouds, and then his rebuttal (a constant inside joke between you two) ‘good thing your head is up there too.’
Namjoon can’t wait to sleep as he watches Seoul creep by in the car, caught in morning traffic, unable to find rest in the constant jostling. Next to him Jimin clicks away on his phone rapidly turned away from Namjoon. Though he does send the elder glances every few minutes. “Are you okay Joon?” Jimin asks, setting his phone protectively in his pocket.
“Yeah I’m alright,” Namjoon won't bother trying to explain to Jimin about missing you. Jimin doesn’t have a girlfriend, only a few long-distance hookups like the rest of the boys (besides Jin whose girl was waiting for him back at the apartment complex, their apartment right next to the dorm). But Jimin gives him a sympathetic glance regardless, ever the empath. All of the boys know how much Namjoon misses you on the daily, have long since stopped teasing him whenever he looks at his phone, smiles at his phone, or insists on calling you the second they get back from a performance to update you on how it went.
“Do you miss her? When I came you’re your room earlier you were saying her name.”
Namjoon flushes at that but nods, unashamed of his love for you even if it is a little embarrassing. “I miss her every second, and I guess even in my dreams too” he chuckles uncomfortably and scratches at the back of his neck. The words are so true that the dreg up this offal crushing bitterness in his chest. It’s strange, the cloying feeling of homesickness even as he’s just gotten to the city he’s lived in for most of his life.
“Aren’t you going to go visit her soon? Do you have any trips planned?” Jimin types out a message on his phone after he asks the driver how much longer it will be until they get home.
Namjoon shakes his head, “no not yet, her current assignment is a little more demanding than her last and she doesn’t finish out her contract until the end of the month.”
He checks his phone again to see if you’ve gotten out of work, finding nothing, decides that you must have decided to work late again. He sends a quick text reminding you to grab some dinner and take care of yourself and ignores the texts from his family asking him over for dinner tomorrow night. Shoving away the bitter frustration budding in his chest.
At least he’ll have time to sleep over the next few days, they have the next 2 weeks off, a rare stretch of free time that Namjoon was fully intending on using to relax. Maybe after the first few days, he could do some more work and finally finish his mixtape. Hopefully, this bad day won’t just be another in a string of them like they are sometimes.
He can hope, but things look bleak as they return to their dorm and Namjoon feels no excitement or joy at being back. They unload the vans of their luggage that's a little dinged from the tour. Dome of the staff stays to help- but there isn’t all that much to unload.
Namjoon checks his phone again on the way up the steps and inside the apartment, missing the suspicious looks that Jimin and the others cast his way as he gets closer and closer to his room. Jimin hovers in particular, Taehyung almost says something and Hoseok barely stifling an excited anticipatory laugh. Jimin signals to him behind Namjoons back with a murderous look to stay quiet or else. He opens his door still looking at his phone, it not bothering to look up.
“What are you doing Joon?” you ask
“Just trying to text you” and then he does a double take, not believing his eyes because you’re standing there, wearing a shit-eating grin on your face, definitely not on the other side of the world. His phone slides out of his hands and thuds face down on his bedroom floor as you give a guilty grin and have the Gaul to say, “Surprise?”
He shouts your name, suddenly more awake than he’s been all month. Stumbling forward into your arms on unsteady legs, he picks you up and spins you around. You yelp at the sudden feeling of weightlessness gripping his shoulders. Your strong boyfriend who doesn’t know his own strength especially when he’s excited, crushing you to his chest and lifting you like you’re a paperweight.
“Oh my god! How are you here!?“ he says, suddenly overwhelmed as he breathes in a deep breath and gets all of you, the smell of your favorite vanilla and flower perfume and the conflicting scent of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed up against his this time real. He sets you down but doesn’t let go, pulling away so that he can kiss you, thankful and happy and smiling wider than he has all week. Feeling your lips slot together with his like two puzzle pieces finding their spot.
He’s barely aware of the others by the door, disappearing after giving Jimin a high five for pulling off the surprise, shouting hello to you before they disappear and give you your privacy, not that you’re paying attention to anything other than Namjoon.
And oh, Namjoon almost melts at the taste of you, his arms squeezing you need to reaffirm that you actually are here. That this isn’t just another dream. That he wasn’t going to wake up on the plane and be alone again. It’s so much better than any dream, lucid or otherwise that he could have, suddenly has him feeling all kinds of fragile under your hands.
He doesn’t realize- until he pulls away from the kiss, keeping your foreheads pressed together, breathing out a light relieved laugh- that he’s actually crying. Happy tears tickle his cheeks and his dimples as your hands run through his hair, smoothing over his shoulders that have relaxed incrementally from the tight frustration he felt earlier.
Your eyes aren’t dry either “Oh Joonie” you say, the same second he bites his lips, trying to keep the tiny happy sob from welling up, blinking away tears even as he feels them slipping over his cheeks to linger in his dimples.
“I missed you so much baby,” he says, nuzzling his nose in yours with an Eskimo kiss, “so fucking much-“ the next words running over his tongue in a flash, “when did you get in? How long are you going to stay? If you had told me you’d be here for work then I would have-“
Even as he rambles, assuming that you’re here as part of your current assignment all he thinks is please, let it be for a few more days, let it be for a week. Even though he knew that you leaving would be so much harder, having you here always reminded him of what he was missing but he never cared, never minded one bit even as it got harder and harder to part with you.
“Two weeks,” you say with a smile (not that it’s dropped at all since he walked through his bedroom door).
He freezes, “you’re kidding!” you’ve never stayed for more than 10 days at a time, you’ve never spent that long in each other's arms and now-now Namjoon is going to have a full uninterrupted fourteen days with you and he won't even have to work! He could glow with how excited and happy he is.
Jimin leans against the doorway, his facemask pulled down around his neck, “Glad you got in okay Y/n” you grin at Jimin, suddenly Namjoon remembers the way he was hiding his phone in the car, “oh you little sneak-“ Namjoon starts to curse, still smiling.
“I had to have one of them give me the key code” at the same moment Jimin says, ever the bratt “-come on if you’re not going to use these two weeks off to the fullest you’d have a literal meltdown” with a roll of his eyes.
Jimin is kind enough to close the door on the way out, giving you your privacy, You’ll say hello to the others in a minute, or maybe a few hours, or maybe tomorrow, He closes the door, lumbering over keeping you by his side; his hands come up to cup your cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re here”
He kisses you slowly on either side of your cheeks, then your nose, then finally when you’re practically leaning up on your tippy toes- your lips. His hands squeezing your hips running up and down your sides, pressing kiss after kiss there, even as they shift from thankful and sweet to more heavy.
You suck his lower lip as he groans into your mouth. His hands find the spot between your ass and your legs, hefting you up to wrap them around his waist before he walks you over to the bed, still kissing you and sets you down. Pressing forward even as you do to kiss you into the sheets until you’re dizzy and panting with it. His hands hungry and searching under your shirt as you pull him closer by his belt buckle.
When he finally parts from your lips he’s panting, your chest heaving unevenly too, he rests his forehead against your collarbone kissing your sternum as he pulls up your shirt.
4 months- it’s been 4 months since you’ve been pressed to each other in your most basic forms since you’ve been at your most intimate and since you’ve last made love. And you’re loathed to be denied that another minute now that you’re in each other's arms. Namjoon needs you like he needs air right now, is almost shaking with the way your core is pressed up against his. His hands just can’t get enough of you as he squeezes and strokes and exults in the simple pleasure that your body brings him.
“I wish I’d had time to book us a hotel and everyone’s here- but fuck, I need you,” He says in between your peppered sweet kisses. Pressing another kiss along his jaw, sucking a little then harder when he urges you with a hand running through your hair.
It’s not often that you both get to be so sloppy with your loving, usually, you have to be so careful to be gentle not to tempt a single bruise, but now you can bite and mark as much as you want. Any hickeys won't matter and will be healed by the time he has to go in front of a camera.
Namjoon almost wants to sigh with the release of it. his neck is sensitive, his shoulders and his chest too as you suck along his collar “I can be quiet,” you murmur looking up at Namjoon with sultry eyes that make lust spark in his gut.
Pulling away though, half laughing at your words, unable to not grin at them because if they’re one thing you’re not it’s quiet. “Baby that’s a lie- you can never be quiet” he purrs, as if to prove his point, he rolls his hips forward languidly, letting you feel the length of him through his jeans already hard. The action makes you yelp and groan, the feeling so deliciously welcome after so many months apart.
“Should I gag you like we did that one time in Paris? Or can you be good for me?” he punctuates this with another hard roll of his hips, teasing you even though you’re already worked up enough, he’s so hard in his jeans it’s almost painful. You and Namjoon get up to kinky shit just as often as any other couple, but despite his words, right now he wants to hear and savor you.
“The shower!” you almost moan gripping onto the front of Namjoon’s shirt like you couldn’t bear to be parted with it, “they might not be able to hear us in the shower,” Namjoon and you scramble off of his bed. He catches glimpses of your smile when you shuck off your shirt making him blush and he feels like a teenager again, about to lose it for the first time.
He shoves off his shyness and sits on the toilet as you turn the water on, waiting for it to get warm, Namjoon tugs you closer in-between his legs, now that he can see all of you run his hands over your back and your ass, over the swell there and feel that weight in his hands, your body hasn’t changed much over the last few months.
Every time you leave, Namjoon is worried that you’re going to change a little, and that slowly that change will add up and suddenly one day he won’t love you as much, or more likely, you don't love him anymore. But having you in front of him always makes him realize how stupid it was to think that for a second. It was always going to be like this with you.
You’re a little unnerved to be so bare before him, struggling against shyness he not cross your arms over your chest as your hair spills around your face, when you finally slip your underwear off to join the rest of your clothes on the floor. the sudden ravenous heat died down and tenderness taking its place.
Hand hands tease your ass, spanking once twice, just to see you inhale sharply. he imagines the pink peeking under your skin and wants to make you flush red with love for him.
Namjoon is nearly breathless with how beautiful you look to him, how perfect you are in his bathroom after you both just took flights, and probably look less than your best; he’s aching with it all up and down his chest, the affection growing like flowers carefully nurtured by your love and blossoming further within him.
“God, I love you,” he says between the kisses he peppers kissing down your stomach stopping to reach the top of your mound, “there isn’t an inch of you I don’t love.”
“Good to know you view me as a god, love you too” your smirk is cocky, and god, it makes Namjoon want to wreck you. You add as an afterthought even though it’s anything but. Even if it’s playfulness the words are heavy, and Namjoon would never stop for a moment to wonder if you meant it. he knows you love him, feels it in every fiber of his being.
Namjoon makes you swallow that teasing retort by standing gripping you under your thighs and surging upwards to set you on the bathroom counter next to the sink, he pulls you forward roughly, manhandling your legs and squeezing your calves with his hands.
As a firm atheist Namjoon has always found eating you out to be a religious experience. You’re his love after all, and your body- your being is the only thing that’s ever captivated him like this.
He takes to you like a sinner would to prayer, and gets on his knees to worship you.
The glistening stain of your arousal turns the tops of your things sticky, he runs his thumbs through it and drags them to his mouth, keeping eye contact with you even as you shiver when he makes a contented hungry noise in the back of his throat at the taste of you.
Namjoon finds himself lapping up every little bit of it too eager to be quite as gentle and as careful as he usually is with you sucking roughly on your clit. The taste of you is ingrained in his memory and makes him slowly lose all composure as he half growls-half groans against your core. Fuck, he forgot quite how good it was, how the heady sweetness of your sex made him ravenous, he holds down your hips to the edge of the sink, looking up to see your lips parted and bitten, eyes glassy in the way that you get when you get drunk on pleasure.
Your moans are strangled behind a hand in an effort to be somewhat quiet but Namjoon doesn't care anymore let them hear. He reaches up pin it back to the counter and laces it with his own, squeezing softly.
Namjoon feels your entrance flutter around his lips as you whimper, and he rocks his hips searching for friction as you thread your other hand through his hair instead of gripping the edge of the marble counter for support, like you need to anchor yourself against the onslaught of Namjoon’s tongue and sumptuous mouth at your core.
After so many months of missing his touch, you’re so sensitive, your legs shaking as he licks broad strokes up and down your core, suckling teasingly on your lips and your clit alternating to really get you shaking. Your entrance flutters around his fingers when he slips just the tips in, teasing around your more sensitive opening rather than dip inside just yet.
Despite the fact that he wants you so bad he might just cum in his pants (and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d cum while eating you out) he feels the need to savor you, to drink you down slowly and carefully orchestrate your breaking as slowly and as lovingly as possible. He feels your entrance trembling to be filled and as if in answer his hard cock jumps, dripping precum onto the tile floor.
But you tug on his hair when he teases too long, whining into the open air, “please Namjoon- please” he leans back for a second, looking up at how wrecked you are already. Your chest heaving now nipples pink in the steamy air and inviting him to suck at them, your leg trembling in the wake of your oncoming orgasm.
“Anything for you baby,” Namjoon lays his palms over your stomach, grabbing onto your hand that’s on the counter and lacing his fingers with yours as he begins to lick in nice even patterns, broad strokes all the way with a firm pressure just how you like to fall apart, never does he take his eyes off of you. Maintaining eye contact to see your lips fall open in a ragged moan.
When you cum, your entrance clenches so hard that it lets little drips out that Namjoon licks up greedily, even as your hips kick up to get away from the overstimulation. And you plead by use of his name over and over again, though even you’re not sure if you’re asking for more or for him to stop at this point.
Namjoon grins and sucks a slight hickey into the top of your thighs letting your chest heave and you cool down, “fuck Namjoon- fuck” you say breathless as leaving his mark on you before he stands, knees a little weak from kneeling for so long, and tugs you off of the counter though you stumble into his arms for an entirely different reason. Namjoon feels pride at making you able to fall apart like this, to the point where you can’t even stand without his arms around you, legs turned to jelly in the wake of the pleasure he and only he can give you.
And suddenly the shower seems like a bad idea, a very potentially hospital visit inducing idea. Neither of you are very coordinated as is, both of you seem to reach the same conclusion at the same time
“Shit should we-“ he says the same moment you prompt “bath?” and he laughs because of course, you would be on the same page- and it’s not like Namjoon’s corner bath isn’t comfortable and large enough for two or even three people. and deep with jets to massage out muscles (one of the perks of living in an expensive apartment was that all of the amenities were heavenly).
You kiss lazily as the bath fills with water, the fire in your gut cooled, while Namjoon’s is still burning- even then, he almost enjoys kissing you enough that he’ll ignore the weight of his erection between the two of you pressed to your soft thigh. His generous length that you’ve surely missed along with the rest of him. Your hand soothes up and over his thigh from where he sits on the edge of his tub, brushing over the tip of his cock with teasing fingers making his hips jump as you tighten your grip and pump him slowly.
Relaxing back onto your knees between his legs, kissing his thighs And leaving hickeys there as you pump him. You might have a thing for his thighs, for their thickness the same way he has a thing for your ass. he smiles as you stroke him and pepper kisses up to his length, teasing him because he likes to be teased just as much if not more than you do.
He tries not to feel a little bit prideful of how small your mouth looks compared to his length, how it looks like he shouldn’t be able to fit in your mouth and how he knows you can. He remembers the first time you’d seen it, uttering out a ‘that’s going to break me’ and immediately setting out to see if it would with a determination that had made Namjoon cum hard. You might be a tiny bit of a size queen and it might make Namjoon a little bit smug.
“I missed you so much Joonie” you repeat against his skin, looking up at him with the little glowing smile, “Did you think about me getting on my knees for you when you where in all of those hotel rooms? Was that how you got yourself off thinking of my mouth?” you whisper the words against his head, lips brushing his slit and wetting with precum before you lick your lips, humming at the taste then leaving your tongue his length teasingly making his thighs twitch and shake just like he made yours.
“You know I did” god you’re- you’re his everything, no one can make him come undone like this, so delicately- so teasingly, as you stare up at him, knowing he has a thing for eye contact when you’re blowing him as you take him as far as you can lips stretched around his widest part. And Namjoon can’t look away, at the same moment, he feels the warm water tickling at his hand and realizes the tub is filled.
He groans pulling you off of him by your hair no matter how much it kills him. “we’ll have time for that later- I need to be in you right now so bad baby girl” you smile positively feline as you see how broken down he was by just a taste of what you can give him. He holds your hand for support as you step into the tub and sink into the water, Polite and gentlemanly even as he aches to wreck you again.
You and Namjoon are like that, the push and pull equal, tenderness and passion in equal measure too. But now he wants all control and you let him take it as he manhandles you into position. The water around you is warm and calming even as Namjoon turns you around and presses you close to one of the jets, the water thumbing a delicious pressure right along your oversensitive clit, your hips jerk but Namjoon’s hands are there on your hips holding you.
“Stay just there for me love, no moving” you’re panting even as Namjoon pushes on the small of your back to lowers you onto your elbows on the edge of the tub. Pressing soothing kisses down your spine as his generous length prods at your entrance. He presses a kiss along your shoulder before he begins to slide in. The stretch making you shout a moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. Inch after inch stretching you out deliciously until you feel so full with him you're shaking with sensitivity.
He thrusts completely in, slowly exulting in the delicious heat of you the feeling of rightness and completeness settling all over him. The tightness after so many months of having nothing inside of you makes you crazy and hazy and numb to Everything but Namjoon. His head hitting the spot inside you that makes wetness flood around him, his lips peppering kisses along your shoulders, his hands cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples gently with his fingers.
Your insides spasm around him as the water jet wreaks havoc on your front, he gives you as long as you need to adjust before you’re reaching back and tugging on his hips, hands shaking along with the rest of you as you moan out “please Namjoon- please move I need- need you” you’re hiccupping with how worked up you are, and of course, Namjoon is never one to deny his baby what she needs when she asks so nicely.
He sets a brutal pace each one of his thrusts sending you further and further towards the edge, “fuck you were made for me baby” he groans out as he keeps the pace, thank god for his stamina honestly because he could fuck you like this for hours, has fucked you for hours.
His hands dig into your hips to the point where he knows you’ll have bruises afterward as he leans forward and lavishes kisses all up and down your neck. You cum like that, him roughly thrusting in and out of you, your clit almost numb from the pleasure assaulting you.
He gives you no respite, even as you shake with overstimulation, whining and groaning and moaning, all thoughts of being quiet for the others completely forgotten. If anything your moans just seem to spur Namjoon on more, and the wet sound of your arousal joins the sound of your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. He gives your ass a slap, watching it jiggle in the water, watching his length sink inside of you.
It’s been so long, now that he finally has you on him he knows he won’t last long, he slows, trying to savor you before he pulls you up, sitting back, he kisses you even as it kills him to pull out of your twitching heat, turning your blissed out and ropey body around to have access lips hungry and sloppy against yours. You look up at him, cheeks flushed, more love in your gaze than words could say.
You’re both so fucked out already, Namjoon’s dick almost hurts from how much he wants to cum, hard and purple and twitching with want against your stomach. But he wants to do it differently than that, wants to see you face when he cums. He sits back on his heels, “come on baby, sit on top of me,” he tugs your hips around him, supporting your shaking muscles with your hands on his shoulders to lower yourself over him, hissing a little at the lingering sensitivity and what will surely be soreness tomorrow.
He kisses at your neck as he starts to fuck up into you his hands around your waist to guide the movement of your hips. In this position he can touch you and kiss at your chest, thumbing along your nipple and groan into your chest to try and soften the noise when he finally cums. Signing your name in a hapless stream as his hips stutter while he rides out his orgasm, painting your walls with his cum. The glide suddenly wetter, your core tightening around him as the satisfaction fills you.
And just like that his kisses turn lazy and loving instead of hungry, lips drunkenly moving against yours as he holds you in the warm bubly water, blood rushing in his ears, love tugging at his chest, as the slightly wet tips of your hair tickle his skin and your run your fingers through his hair.
You’re still connected, he barely softens inside of you still hard and aching for more. But instead of pulling you off of him he just rests there for a second, and you’re comfortable too to feel his length stretching you open for a few minutes longer. The intimacies of the action as you’re both as physically as close as you can be without being one and lingering in that closeness after so many months of distance. Your warm wetness tight around him makes him relax further.
“I missed you my love” he utters against your skin, eyes fluttering, suddenly sleepy even though honestly he could go another round, looking up at you with this doe-eyed happy expression undisturbed by doubt.
You cup his cheeks, running your thumbs over his dimples. Leaning forward to kiss them, making him chuckle, “I did too Joonie,” you murmur pulling away a little, “lets shower and get into bed yeah? You must still be tired”
He is tired enough that he lets you wash his hair sleepily closes his eyes as you run a soapy cloth over his back. He leans into the affection, resigned to the fact that you’re determined to take care of him even though he would have settled for just a rinse under the shower.
He stumbles when you lead him back into his bedroom, neither of you bothering to put clothes on as you sink underneath the covers and hold each other close, chest to chest. he rubs shapes into your back with his thumbs, and quietly, reverently, just watches as you fall asleep until he joins you, content and feeling suddenly at home in your arms.
When he wakes, he’s not surprised to find it dark outside- the time change and your nap probably fucked up both of your sleep schedules to the point where you’re both going to be sleeping weird hours for a little while. Your warmth next to him makes the bed at just the right temperature as the cold from outside presses in with hungry fingers.
He looks down at you nestled in the side of his chest his arm around you. Your eyes closed cheek squished against his skin looking absolutely adorable. He tilts his head to press a kiss against your forehead sleepily, running his hand up and down your back. He’s unable to stop looking at you, seeing you like this, always reminds him of the first time he ever saw you:
To say that Namjoon stayed late at the studio often back then would have been a gracious understatement. It was a rare day if he left before 2 am, even rarer if he didn’t just straight up decide to sleep on the couch in the corner of his studio and wake up when he’d gotten the bare minimum. It wasn’t like it was uncomfortable; just easier than going all the way back to the dorm to sleep. The others were equally as bad, Yoongi and Hoseok especially. But to Namjoon, the reliance on work was different. If he spends all of his time working then he had less time to confront the empty side of his bed, how his body itched with wanting at the thought of warm arms around him.
In short, Kim Namjoon was very very lonely.
The night he meets you, Yoongi comes to his door nearing 4 am. Leaning in the doorway until Namjoon pushes back from his desk and decides that yes, he’s had enough of work today. “Did you finish the collab track?” he asks hushed as he gathers his things. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat. No then. Namjoon could understand his frustration. Today the lyrics just weren’t coming out right; the right wording somehow escaping him even though he could taste it on his tongue and just a hair out of reach.
Namjoon pulls on his jacket when he’s ready and not his new knit cardigan, they won’t be outside for long anyway, and Yoongi will probably turn the heat up in the car to the point Namjoon sweats, Yoongi likes it warm.
The agency building is nearly empty at this hour save for the janitors, they hush thank you’s and bow as they pass, the glass rooms are all dark save for one that they have to pass through, and empty, except for one person leaning over a desk slumped with exhaustion completely asleep and still accept for her measured breathing.
Namjoon and Yoongi both watch as they pass to see if the stranger is awake, neither of them recognizes the foreign woman slumped over the pile of papers.
Namjoon pauses at the door, “who’s she?” he asks, because he’s certain he’s never seen her around before or he would have introduced himself. She’s pretty, with simple features but thick lashes, striking even if she has a little drool on her pillowed cheek, which will probably stick to the paper when she finally wakes.
“I’m not sure, though one of the managers said something about a consultant arriving this week from overseas that they’re hiring to deal with HR and the new American staff, this must be her.”
Namjoon nods, it makes sense why you would be here, and why you would be sleeping here- he’s been a victim of jetlag enough times to know you get whatever sleep you can get when you can get it. His heart swells with sympathy, and he pauses even while his companion keeps walking.
Yoongi turns back to raise an eyebrow. “Joon?” he prods. Namjoon steals himself when he sees you shiver to toss his spare cardigan over your shoulders and shutting off the desk light before he joins Yoongi. Satisfied when he glances back to see you relax further into the desk in the warmth of the thick cardigan in the chilly office.
“I’ll get it back at one point.” He says in response to Yoongi’s knowing smirk. Namjoon is too tired to blush.
You don’t see each other again until a few days later in a meeting you smile when you see him and Namjoon trips over the doorway as his manager introduces you to the boys. The conversation is mostly banal, save for your surprising fluency in Korean, which earns you compliments from more than one of them. Yoongi shoots Namjoon a devious smile and prompts, “now Namjoon will finally have someone to practice English with.”
Namjoon blushes and hits Yoongi on the arm. Later, you find Namjoon’s office, shy in the doorway as he rubs the back of his neck, “Mister min told me that this was yours after he saw it folded over my desk, thank you for leaving It for me the other night.”
Namjoon takes it from you, he can tell you washed it- he has the urge to lift it to his nose and breath in deep, probably get a sense of what you smell like. He hopes you don’t notice his blush. “It gets pretty cold here sometimes they forget to turn off the ac in the winter” he justifies, fingering it in his hands before he gives it back to you, “you can keep it for the office in case you get cold again.”
“Namjoon-ssi Its designer I really can’t,”
“Consider it a welcome present then,” his dimpled smile puts you at ease. You start to practice English with Namjoon most afternoons that he’s there, slipping into Korean effortlessly and explaining to him why what he said was a little off.
Conversations over work turn into hours spent over coffee or food when the only time he can spare for a conversation is over dinner, which becomes a habit and- are these dates if you barely talk about work? if he feels like himself when he’s around you to the point where it recharges him instead of drains?
You always protest when Namjoon pays- and he reassures you with a hand on yours- anything Namjoon can do to repay your kindness and your hard work he says, though at this point he’ll make any excuse to get more minutes with you.
He even offers you the cot in his studio when you want it at one point- working late. To which you tease, “maybe I’ll sleep there just so you offer me your sweaters, I could have a whole collection by the end of the month” your wink makes him blush harder than he ever has and stumble over his words. You’re the only one who can make him so disarmed like this, fumbling in Korean or English, no matter the language Namjoon feels like he can never find the right words to quite flirting how he wants.
He can’t even imagine how terrible his concentration would be if you wore his sweaters even more often than you already do, you look so small drowned in it, having to fold the sleeves over a few times to stick out your hands. the others notice his fixation- teasing him about it by stopping by his studio and warning, “better not try to get any work done today Joon” with a wink or a teasing “off to another English lesson?”
But of course it had to end somehow, your contract was only for 4 months after all.
Namjoon knew that this was your livelihood- switching cities every few months and switching companies to help them rearticulate after overseas expansion. Namjoon has asked you more than a few questions about your mobile lifestyle in the past after he’d learned that the most you’d ever stayed in one place after college was 6 months.
“I’ve never liked a city enough to make me stay,” you said the first time he asked you why you moved around so much- even when the companies would offer you permanent positions.
And in the last week before you leave to head to your next job- you express the opposite when you end up walking back from an early morning coffee with Namjoon. Your hands brushing between the two of you as you walk. Pausing in the street to watch the light fade, a thick scarf wound around his neck. “It’s going to be hard to leave Seoul,” you said, eyes flickering to Namjoon.
In a moment of braveness, he takes your hand and squeezes, brings it up to his face to set the back against his cheek. and feeling like he’s almost going to cry, says “it’s going to be hard to watch you go.” barely tempting the words into the morning light for the fear of the damage and hurt they would cause both of you.
The last time Namjoon sees you he can’t swallow down the lump in his throat. You try to give him back the sweater that he gave you the first time he saw you. But he pushes it back into your hands, smiling even as he’s barely able not to cry. because even with all this pain- he’s better for having known you. “please, just take it to remember me by, I’d love it if you wore it and thought of me when you’re in New York.”
He’d tried to forget you when you’d left knowing it would be better for him if he did. Less heartbreak even if the weight of all of the almost he had with you drag on his shoulders as he hops from city to city on tour. He tries to concentrate on work instead of your social media feed, tries not to text you and fails on the daily.
And then a reprieve, they’re invited to do an award show in New York and Namjoon is quick to text you and tell you their plans and ask if you’d like to grab dinner afterward even if it will be 1 am by the time they get out, and you agree.
after all these months, you’ve never expressed your feelings beyond an ‘i miss you’ but when you see each other again those feelings boil over into actions.
He meets you on the street corner in new york city after it’s rained, the light hanging all hazy and bleeding into you, you look the same as you do. He shouldn’t be surprised to find that you’ve kept his cardigan or to find you wrapped in it looking small and delicate under your red umbrella. smiling up at him.
And he’d been uncaring about who might be watching, pulled down his facemask and kissed you, shocked for a second before the umbrella was discarded so that both your hands could fist in his baggy sweatshirt, and you’d kissed him back like you missed his lips ravenously no matter that it was your first kiss.
You’d never made it to the restaurant that he’d planned on taking you to the reservation unused. instead, you’d gone back to your apartment, and the rest had been history.
He remembers that night, the first night he’d gotten to see you like this, curled up next to him hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat, he remembers feeling just as lucky as he feels in this instant. He remembered that he’d hoped beyond hope that your whispered confession of love against his lips earlier were true. That this love would last and that you’d both be able to handle the distance.
It had, and though it had been hard there was nothing more satisfying or rewarding than waking up to you like this.
You start to stir gently in his arms and he kisses you on your shoulders, trailing his lips up your neck, by the time he gets to your cheek your eyelashes are fluttering. You make a happy noise in your throat, blinking away sleep and smiling when he’s the first thing you see.
God, Namjoon wouldn’t trade this for anything. He can barely believe you’re actually here. Was it just yesterday morning when he’d woken up after dreaming of you? Well this, the real thing- was so much better than any dream. it’s too early to really be awake, but you’ve both been asleep for more than 12 hours at this point.
“Wanna make coffee and watch the sunrise?” he asks you, sleepily you nod against him, and he separates himself to go put the coffee pot on. At first, he’s planning on bringing it to you in bed, but then you appear wearing one of his large grey shirts and the comforter cover around your shoulders. Your hair dried funny after the shower you shared last night, curling on one side and straight on the other, endearingly imperfect as only you can be.
You exchange sleepy gentle kisses against the counter while you wait for the coffee to finish. The coffee pot beeps somewhere in between when you start deepening the kiss and he keeps Running his hands up and down your back, tempted to go for another round.
And then it’s out to the balcony carrying the blanket that Namjoon tosses over you after you crawl up the lawn chair, it’s not exactly comfortable or warm. As the sky gradually starts to lighten you curl up around Namjoon, running your fingers through his hair and commenting on the new color, careful to be quiet and hushed when you know the other’s rooms are on either side of you.
Namjoon’s glad you made the choice to come out instead of going back to bed in search of more carnal pleasures. The steam rising from the coffee cup clutched in your hands, sharing sips- because of course, you’re the couple to share one cup of coffee in the morning.
“God you have a good view,” you say after a sip and hand the mug back to him from this position you can see every inch of Seoul slowly turning from steel grey to honey gold.
“Any view with you in it is a good view” you make a dismayed noise, slapping his arm lightly.
“Don’t be cheesy,” but you mollify him with a kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling the little bit of stubble there rough against your lips.
“Can’t help it, you make me like this” he grins. Holding you a little tighter, thumbing the curve of your elbow, “I wish it could be like this all of the time”
You’re quiet, silent, and Namjoon tries to catch your eye over the lid of the coffee cup.
You bite your lip, and he’s sure something’s wrong, how many times had he said something like this and you’d replied, ‘I do too Joonie’ but now, you’re uncharacteristically quiet and a little stiff in his lap. After a pregnant moment, your eyes flicker up to meet his.
“What if it was?”
He straightens, suddenly awake, “what do you mean?” your next words come out in a rush turning to look at him as they spill from your mouth, holding his hand firmly in yours.
“I didn’t want to tell you- not until I knew it was actually happening- because I didn’t want to get your hopes up but, you’re not the only reason why I came to Seoul.” Namjoon quirks his eyebrows, his hand busies its self with rubbing at the skin against your back. Waiting, expectant and hopeful, he urges you to continue with a nod of his head, eyes wide.
“I got a job offer,” you breath out “for a company here in Seoul- a permanent position” Namjoon pulls back abruptly. Staring up at you incredulously.
“You’re joking!” he says in disbelief. But if the quirk of your lips as you try not to smile too widely has anything to say- you’re not lying.
Which means… which means you don’t have to be in a long distance relationship anymore.
Which means Namjoon can wake up to you in the morning many more days of the year that he had previously. And he can have all of the domestic fantasies that you’d confessed over the phone. Getting to ride bikes along the river together. Having coffee in the morning every day. Fuck he’d even settle for something as mundane as folding fucking laundry because with you everything was amazing.
Namjoon hops up from the chair and hops up and down when he realizes it, wrapping you to his chest after a moment, nearly tackling you into the lawn chair and pulling you back into his lap. “Oh my god- this is the best surprise, like ever- I can’t believe you hid this- you’re so, you’re so ugh” Namjoon punctuates the last frustrated words of excitement with a kiss to your mouth that shocks a giggle out of you.
“That’s amazing news- I can’t wait until you can live here and we’ll be able to see each other every day.”
“I didn’t mean to spring this on you at all or assume anything. This doesn’t mean that we have to like- get an apartment together or anything but-“
“Wait,” Namjoon says, leaning out of your arms for a second, “do you not want to live with me? Do you not want to move in?”
“No of course not- I just didn’t know if you would want me too, I didn’t know if we were there yet is all and-“ but Namjoon’s already tugging you back inside, giddy like a kid on Christmas. Instead of explaining he knows exactly what will put your mind at ease.
“I wanna show you something,” he murmurs, knowing that it will be enough of an explanation. Because for all your secrets and scheming and surprises, Namjoon is just as good at planning as you are.
Dimples peaking out as he leads you through the dark apartment loud in his excitement. he leads you back into his bedroom, still, a whirlwind from yesterday. his suitcase is pried Open like a clam with clothes sticking out of it. Yours are too, everything is scattered nothing organized in true Namjoon fashion.
He gets the small bag out of the pocket where it’s lived for the past month, handing it over to you trying not to look too nervous. his hand hovers on yours the bag in between both of your hands “don’t- don’t open it when you see it, i mean- obviously look in the bag but-” you quirk your eyebrow at his stuttering and he makes a frustrated noise before he hands it over. But his hands still shake; before you open it you reach up to smooth out the wrinkle between his eyebrows. A loving action. You’re puzzled at what it could be- it’s surprisingly heavy in your hands.
You tear out the black wrapping paper to get at the small heavy thing in the bottom “You didn’t need to get me anything- you know you already sent me like an entire wardrobe from France right? And chocolate from Belgium that I ate in like half a second.”
“It’s not-” Namjoon just laughs, nudging your shoulder with his nose “just open it already before I die of anticipation” Namjoon sits on the edge of his bed and ignores the urge to get down on one knee- because this isn’t that- not yet anyway. His leg jumping in anxiety a little, Instead of pulling you closer by your hips to sit pressed against his. resting his chin on your shoulder to watch your expression dawn from confusion to shocked surprise.
“Kim Namjoon!” you shout when you pull out the heart-shaped velvet box- you won’t open it, not yet, because if this is what you think it is then you understand what Namjoon meant about not opening it yet. “you did not buy me a goddamn ring!”
“I might have” he winks, “I picked it out from an antique shop, I really wanted to do this with more intention-but” Namjoon hums as he runs a finger along your chin tilting your face up to meet his. “I’m serious about you, I’m serious about this, living together- everything. Now you know- even if I’m not going to ask you just yet,” his smile shifts into the teasing air you often have in your relationship. “not until I can surprise you with it of course” you look at him, cup his cheek and gulp before you hand him the velvet box back with a shaking hand, not even asking to see inside even if curiosity is blooming in your- curiosity and incredulity and joy- and Namjoon hasn’t even officially proposed yet and you're already bouncing “You sure you don’t want to look at it at least?”
You look at him wide-eyed, “some surprises are best saved for last,” Namjoon laughs at that, standing up to put the velvet box on top of his dresser in a place where you can see it. A sight that will tease you until one day you walk in and find it missing, and later will find it on your finger. After all- he never doubted that you would say yes.
He pulls you up to your feet kissing you, your lips sweet and soft against his, “as much as I love seeing you in just my shirt you should probably get dressed, We have a busy day ahead of us,” he murmurs against your lips.
You raise an eyebrow in response, pulling away from the kiss to search his face “What do you have planned?”
Namjoon grins. “How do you feel about apartment hunting?”
Taglist:
@waitingforanangel @ephemeral-mindset @stressedoutsmallperson @cheese123344 @babygirl-cocobean @royalivory @suga-sugarcube @wowitsemilysblog @thintaehyung @ringsofthemoon @bluebirdphantom @xxtaestheticallyxx @donttouchthemullet @margheritadimova @mayumioutloud @killcomet @99020448 @daydream-hobii-main @ghostkat23 @1975soss @fairy-lover13 @doux-dentelle@singulari-taes @hope122598 @spacejooon @kawaiikinggina @taehyungvx @coolcat494 @perfectlyfangirling @livingbubbles-blog @dabbingangels @mollymush @nerdygaloresposts @cheese123344 @wow-some-cunt-actually @totally-unbiased @seaveymulti @urmumiscute @chari-a @galaxyjimin23 @flouffyy @k-candy @deojoon @glitteryclodpeachdonkey @boononx @anapiscator @ewww-hannah @chi-fox @catkiecookie @serengeti-serenity @serengay @it-is-dana @andysteve1311 @cheneroux @bts-trash-blog @charmlife15 @moniebuns @inneedofsomehope @dreadity @jks-shydimple @dainty-little-marionette @danithearmy @trust-nobody @sheerartattack @hopetookmysoul @velvetybts @kimmjooniee @wellwwhynot @daydream-hobii-main @cherryprisc @hopelessromanticslut @lilmissbreaking @holdupitssarah @aijoukook @skyebloodhood @chiminies-noona @tenn87 @btsiguess-kpop @idont-knowabrian @noonajen @yukilovespizza @ravioli-raviolii @sugarrimajins @azure-winter-crow @meansugary @literaltrash666 @anacbm @broke-college-person @oxymirror @jungkookie-love-bangtan @livewittykid @bandsomatic @cloudsmolesta @kpopgirlbtssvt @kpophomie @dragon-rider-with-a-book @2seokkyo @kaekae-h @yoonnggiii @acadevintage @lyra-brooks @breadcaaat @sheprocrastinatesalot @lizziemagz @banaani-mins @psychopanda00 @treetops68 @ally22042000 @dreadity @yoongoro @alekalupa @lilstoprn @mochiixjm @astronaut-jesus @anoushe01 @sinoc @kaiiros3 @burnt-tea-leaves @babybluebisexual @softjellyjimin @jiminslye @lokathefemale @divamama1984 @horror-w3irdo @killcomet @fartooldtocaretoyoungtodie @miraisnotavailable @sara-elissa @iminagwone @the1andonlyac @astrolojae @magicalbtswonderland @spider-thot0115 @urmumiscute @s-t-e-l-l-e @witchybabel @okgoogul @kikiisda1 @agustd-fanatic @erebus-astronaut @ahslde @suuugggaaababie @fuxcing @miraisnotavailable @dreadity @im-emo-motherfuckers @lambil @im-emo-motherfuckers@meansugary @thebleuprince @jhopespanda @seesaworld @deathkat657 @punsterterry @haechanniefullsun @xxnicole19xx @cliffordmonarchy @sugaliicious @mangblue @veryuniquenamegoeshere @kelly96q @fyeenaee @sugamonster22 @ialwayschangethemelody @cherryicy123 @sparky-isnt-a-vampire @gubetown101 @karamelcakje @childfmoonn @wutthufuck @larenelizabeth @littlesinnersins @zingapinga @xxgothickxx @fallenrose574 @fouldreamzippersports @baojinnie @ratedtae @creepysweet @cloudsmolesta @keezyfeelingbreezy @kimmie113080 @theplatypusofyourdreams @loveartyou @yourpersonalhybridbunny @ephemeral-mindset @alyboo-jpeg @shelley-hennig14 @avmfreak96 @jks-shydimple @alostlady @allaccesspass @hunnini-bun @vannilacake @btsiguess-kpop @bluemooncnblue @theuwuchild @justaregularcrazyfangirl @pwrkjihyo @sonyeonsideupsmile @shubaaa @salty-asabrick @aimee-lucass @candymustbegood @bakingwithanxiety @im-emo-motherfuckers @wutthufuck @spring2787 @itsapparent @ansoketz @btshug @wontuo @nctizennct @annoyinglyunabashedangel @dutchessgummey @chimmyddimini @dabbingangels @piercethebatman2 @jiminstan-97 @coldbookworm @cyberbunnybum @haechansmelody @jungkook-me-down @minahraven @nerdyariana @anextragreating @serendipitiousbutterfly @noonajen @houseofhecatetrilogy @taeshuworld @softmultistan @diamonddia-mond @introvertedvillan @abehavedtinychild @beestigo @sumjeon @morgsstudies-blog @cherryicy123 @iwishthiswere @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @discombobulatedhuman @odditiesanddeities @stupidladystilts @kshinault2003 @chocolateandchagall @i-like-puppy-mg @shadybreadkingdom @iminagwone @lyingivy @mother-forker @anormalpersin @sandz-reads @brazilianpal @cvbachacbitch @emilythememily @briefphilosopherjellyfish @eclecticmyst @sugamin-suga @cluh16 @drown-me-in-space @harujukuz @decadentcroissanttacopersona @zhangyixingxing1 @snowythellama @banaarmystarlight610 @cluh16 @jungshaking @purringpanda @ilaria-np @wolvesloveyou @bopping-to-my-kpops @miss--moose @kst-chernish @bvbsins @ofdragonsandthings @zzoooeee @ratedtae @crystallizingarts @fake-betch-luke @miana134 @burningupgalaxies @irrelevantboiposts @anonymouslylovely @busanboyy @namjoons-leftnostril @am918 @odditiesanddeities @jiminmochee @treetops68 @beautyyounggirl @alex--awesome--22 @summerynyx @astralbone @philosophical-tryhard @jellxemerxld @aestaeticsmolbean @feedthefandoms995 @aestaeticsmolbean @sandz-reads @slutdrops-for-sugjinminkook @btsaremyhusbands @blandstuff @littlenugget8544 @dearbangtan07 @deojoon @bts-fan-obsessed @ryvercoyote1986 @binnieblues @luvuforlif @notsoerrr-blog @golden-aliferous @helptoomanyotps @neverlands-error @tinymaiden @monachopticrebel @namjoonsrightnipple @hazelelizabeth99 @ruchrohra0102 @ireallylikefoodandyoutube
#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts smut#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon x reader#bts scenario#bts reaction#bts fan fic#bts#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts fluff#bts hurt/comfort#bts angst#bts idol au#bts longdistance relationship au
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you. [tom holland] - six.
PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader
SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.
WARNINGS: mostly swearing! mentions of alcohol! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish!
WORD COUNT: 2735
SONG INSPO: can’t take my eyes off you - emilie mover
A/N: hiya babes, again, sorry if this chapter is posted very late. i have absolutely no excuses this time, it’s just me really. times are tough and if i’m being honest, i’ve had a rough couple of weeks. my academics really hit me in the worst possible way and i’m really am sorry if i wasn’t able to uphold my promises to post over the break. 🥺 also, beware of my plot timeline! i had a rough plan that i wanted this to take place during pre-ffh days! anyway, enjoy chapter six and happy reading! x
UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST WHENEVER I CAN [I’M TRYING TO POST EVERY SATURDAY, I REALLY AM]
gif credits: @parkerpunology
vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | three | four | five | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt]
Two months. You and Tom were already dating for two months. The last two months were a whirlwind for both of you, more so for you. Once the news broke out that you and Tom were dating, it was expected that people would lose their minds over it.
However, like how news typically withholds its relevance these days, it died down a week after. You both actually didn’t mind it since it put you two at ease. You and Tom see each other for thrice a week, dropping a few nuggets that you two are together.
Some days, Tom would drop by at your filming location.
“Y/N,” Steven, a stunt coordinator, sang your name with a teasing look painted on his face. “Guess who’s here.” He was helping you with your scene, making sure that you were safe as you did your stunts.
“Please tell me it’s Charlotte with my phone,” You moaned as you fixed your shirt as Steven began unbuckling your harness. You were standing on top of a high platform and had just finished doing your stunt for the show, the Alchemist.
“Honey, do you think I’d be this excited if it was your assistant with your phone?” Steven rolled his eyes. “It’s your loverboy,” He teased, pointing to a figure.
Based on the state of altitude you were in, you could practically see everybody. You can see some of the crew were busy with fixing the set for the following scene. You could see the producer busy speaking to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. You could also see your ‘loverboy’ talking to the director.
Tom was standing next to Alissa, the director, as they talked animatedly. He was wearing a grey shirt that hugged his body like a second skin and a pair of black joggers. He looked very casual, but as much as you hated to admit it, he still looked good.
Catching your gaze, Tom gave you a smile and a wave.
You were still getting used to the idea that you were seeing him, so you turned your head as fast as you could. It’s as if your crush caught you staring at him in middle school.
Steven let out a small giggle, “You guys are so cute. You two are like grade-schoolers.”
“Oh, shush.” You said as you felt your face burn, embarrassed that Steven caught what just happened.
“Shush yourself, hon,” Steven laughed “It seems like Tom found it absolutely adorable.”
You turned your head back to look at Tom and there with his arms crossed, he was laughing softly. He had his complete attention on you.
You signalled him to give you a minute as you descend from the platform to greet your ‘boyfriend’.
Seeing that you both were actors, you had to use your skill sometimes.
“Tommy,” You’ve grown to love that nickname for Tom, knowing that he absolutely despised it. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your tone sickeningly sweet, as you greeted him with a hug.
For a moment, his eyes flickered upon hearing the nickname you just called him. “Came here to surprise you, princess.” He said with a smirk as he squeezed you in a hug. He knew you hated that nickname too. It was obvious that you two were playing the same game.
“Oh, but you didn’t have to, Tommy,” You said with a huge smile, the words practically gritting in between your teeth.
“I know,” He replied. What he did next caught you off-guard being that you two never really displayed that amount of PDA out in the open. “However, I do miss my girlfriend and I wanted to surprise her.” He said before he held the side of your face and placed a soft kiss on your cheek.
Boy, you were surprised alright.
Some days, you would drop by at Tom’s filming locations.
Tom had just finished his scene with Jake Gyllenhaal. You decided to visit your ‘boyfriend’ at his set for Far From Home. As soon as the director yelled cut, Tom caught your eye and gave you a wave.
“Are you getting bored, babe?” You turned to the figure who just asked you the question and saw Zendaya wearing her MJ clothes. You’ve grown a huge liking towards Tom’s castmates ever since Tom introduced you to them, especially Zendaya since she’s been nothing but nice to you.
You gave Zendaya a small smile and shook your head no. You’ve sat and watched them shoot for a little over two hours now, and it was only reasonable that he’d ask how you were doing.
“You know, you two are absolutely adorable.” She commented as she gave you a playful nudge, sitting next to you.
“We’re absolutely not,” You chuckled, feeling shy.
“It’s true,” Zendaya laughed “Tom seems like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s with you.”
As if on cue, Tom started jogging his way towards you and Zendaya with a huge smile on his face.
“Hi, princess,” Tom engulfed you with a huge hug. “Are you still good? What are you two laughing at?” He asked in the middle of the hug.
The intimacy you two had to show in public was still something you had to work on-not so much for Tom though. You weren’t used to displaying affection even when you used to date your ex.
“Oh, we’re just laughing at you.” You said nonchalantly, a teasing smile hanging off your lips.
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you’ve got it bad for Y/N,” Zendaya answered cheekily, “You’re happier around your girlfriend, Tom.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” Tom acknowledged making you roll your eyes playfully. “I am at my best whenever I’m around Y/N.” He said as cupped the sides of your face and planted a small kiss on the top of your nose.
You begged to differ. Tom had to act like he’s at his happiest whenever he’s around you.
“Liv, I look ridiculous. I don’t even have the boobs for this.” You said as you finished putting on the bridesmaid dress and examined your chest, as the dress sported a deep v-neck. You and Veronica were standing in front of a mirror, wearing a floor-length burgundy chiffon dress.
“Shut up, Y/N,” Veronica said as she fixed the delicately pinned flowers on your hair. “You look great, I think Tom might actually fall in love with you.” Ronnie teased.
“Fuck off, Ronnie.” You mumbled. “I can’t believe you actually let me invite him, Liv.” You told Olivia, who was busy getting into her wedding dress.
“Uh, of course. He’s your boyfriend, ‘ya doof.” Olivia, who was putting on her dress behind the dressing panel, said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Also can you two help me with my dress? I need someone to zip me up.” Liv went out wearing a gorgeous wedding dress. It was an off-shoulder sweetheart cut white dress with touches of lace and glimmer.
“Oh, you look gorgeous, Liv.” Veronica sighed as she stared at Olivia with tears brimming her eyes. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married this soon, girl.”
“I know,” Olivia agreed, fixing her hair, “but I just love him you know? He makes me a better person. I’ve never felt love like this before.” She said while trying to fight off the tears that were forming on her eyes.
You and Veronica rushed in to give Olivia a huge hug, tears were close to shedding and all of you didn’t want to sit in the makeup chair again.
You were so sure that Olivia was rushing to get married, that maybe she wasn’t thinking things through. However, as you saw your best friend be at the happiest she’s ever been, you figured that getting married was probably the most adamant decision Olivia has ever made.
At 24, Olivia found herself in the arms of the person she’s bound to spend her whole life with.
“I gotta walk down that aisle before I ruin my makeup completely,” Olivia said half-jokingly, fanning herself.
And so she did. Olivia managed to walk down the aisle without completely crying her makeup off, Josh, however, lost it. He was fully sobbing as soon as he saw Olivia walk.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them, you saw two people so full of love that the only way to express it was to cry.
As the ceremony proceeded on, your thoughts were somewhere else. You’ve always wondered if ever you’ll find someone who’ll make you feel the same way as them, that tears would start falling because you were so in love.
However, that would have to wait as you were currently tied with the person you were sure you weren’t going to be in love with. Your gaze automatically went to Tom, who was coincidentally staring at you. You turned your attention back to the couple who were getting married in front of you, your cheeks burning.
Your mind was about to come up with different possible reasons as to why Tom was staring at you, but you had to stop yourself. You don’t need that in your life.
“You okay, Y/N?” Ronnie asked as she took a sip of her champagne. You nodded your head and finished your third glass of champagne. “Are you sure? Because I’ve known you long enough to know that you start to drink heavily when something’s bugging you.”
The reception was over and the newly-wed couple has had their first dance as husband and wife. People were now just letting themselves loose on the dancefloor.
“I’m fine, Ronnie,” You assured her as you called the waiter to give you another glass. “Don’t mind me, you know how weddings make me feel.”
“Yes, which is why I’m terrified.” Veronica murmured.
“Don’t be silly, Ronnie. I can handle myself really.” You said as you scanned the crowd. You saw Tom talking to a couple of girls, seeming like he was desperate to get out of the conversation as soon as possible.
Soon enough, he caught you staring and it seemed like he was relieved to see you. Not long after, he was practically running to you.
“Looks like prince charming is coming to get you,” Veronica chuckled as she grabbed her purse and drink from the table. “I’ll see you later, babe. Text me if you’re leaving.”
“Where are you going and why are you leaving me?” You practically whined. Veronica wasn’t surprised, you were whiny after three drinks.
“I have to go and meet Josh’s parents, they wanted to see me after mentioning that I was looking for a place that I could do my internship,” Ronnie explained “Besides, it looks like you’re going to be taken care of. If you aren’t, call me ASAP.”
You huffed and dismissed your friend. As soon as Veronica left, Tom arrived at your table.
“Oh, thank god I saw you Y/N. It was brutal out there, some people just can’t get a hint-”
“Why are you here?” You asked as soon as Tom sat down next to you. Tom was caught off-guard by your hostility.
“I-uh, what?” Tom wasn’t really sure what’s happening, sure enough, what he did wrong to have you act this way. This wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he knew that he pressed your buttons way too many times, however, that wasn’t the case.
“Aren’t you busy talking to those girls over there?” You asked, now grateful for the newly filled glass of champagne that was just handed to you. The waiter was about to give Tom too but he kindly refused.
“Actually, I was desperate to leave the conversation. It was getting annoying and they kept insisting that I’m just dating you for clout.” Tom explained as he massaged his temples.
“They weren’t lying.” You mumbled before taking a sip from your glass. “You looked like you were having fun though-which I didn’t mind, by the way.”
“Y/N-”
“Tom, you know you can just leave all of this, right? Like no one is forcing you to stay this long because you won’t get the short end of the stick. It’s me who's going to get most of the damage.”
“That’s not true, Y/N. I’m just as affected as you will be.” Tom stressed. “Where is this all coming from?” He asked, getting frustrated.
Much like Tom, you were getting frustrated too. Why are you being hostile around him? It’s not like he’s actually dating you, you have no reason to act this way.
“Alcohol makes me see things more clearly,” You muttered. It was all that you could say. After all, nothing was making sense for you.
“That’s what got us in trouble in the first place,” He claimed as he grabbed your glass and placed it far away from you. Tom stood up and offered his hand to you. “Come, let’s dance. It’ll clear your head.”
“I don’t want to,” You moaned as you threw your head back. “I planned on drinking so if you’re not going to join me, then just leave.”
Tom shook his head no. “I got a note from Ronnie that I need to stop you after three drinks and apparently, you’re on your fourth so ‘nough is enough, princess.”
“Even if I’m not going to drink, I’m still not dancing with you.” You said as you crossed your arms.
“Wanna bet?” You just sat there and listened. You were interested as there was no way in hell he can make you dance.
“That wasn’t fair, you practically set me up.” You grumbled as Tom happily led you to the dance floor. The jig was if you stood up, you’re automatically going to dance with Tom.
Being the ‘sneaky little shit’ (Veronica’s choice of words) that Tom was, he secretly texted Ronnie and asked her if she could potentially lure you into assisting her to the washrooms.
You were skeptical at first, but you eventually obliged. It was Ronnie’s choice of words that made you do it. “Y/N, I swear to god, I’m about to pee. If you don’t help me unzip my dress, I will physically hurt you.”
Tom was now short of 50 bucks because of that favour.
“Oh, c’mon, princess. You know that isn’t true.” Tom tried to keep a straight face but obviously failed as he was now grinning at your annoyed face.
“This is ridiculous, you know that I’m a horrible dancer right?” You said as Tom put your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist.
“I think I’ll manage, princess.” He chuckled.
“No, I’m not kidding. You will leave with a huge bruise on your foot-feet. I might step on both of your feet, there’s a huge possibility.”
Tom stared at you for a moment before saying, “I guess it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
They were playing a slower version of “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and you groaned softly. “What’s wrong, princess?”
“You’ll never let that pet name go, won’t you?” You asked, rolling your eyes.
“No, I don’t think I will.” He answered cheekily.
You two slow danced to the melody of the song and you couldn’t help it but say, “God, I love this song. Why did they have to play it?”
“I guess it was meant to be- Oh god, it’s them again,” Tom said as he saw the girls who were trying to steal his attention all night.
You took a look at the girls and sure enough, they were watching the two of you and were whispering amongst themselves. You didn’t know who they were so you were assuming they were on Josh’s guests.
You weren’t one to start fights however, you were extremely petty though. It’s a habit you’re trying to get rid of. “Hey, Tom?”
He hummed in response. “Do you want to finally get them off your back?” You asked him. He stared at you for a moment before nodding.
“I’m going to do something but promise me you’ll forget it as soon as it’s done.” You disclosed, not even knowing why you’re actually going to do it.
“Okay...” You knew he was getting curious. “What-”
You grabbed the side of his face and kissed the corner of his lips. To say that both of you were surprised was an understatement.
TAGLIST:
@thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins @herondalescecilys @notjustpenandpaper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @gothicwidowsworld @heartofholland @stxfxniexreads @peruvian-bae @hollands-osterfield @thenoddingbunny-blog @galacticstxrdust @sweartomendes @itsjstz
Can’t tag:
@sectusempried
#tom holland imagine#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fluff#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfic#tom holland blurb#tom holland reader insert#tom holland and reader#tom holland angst#tom holland imagines#tom holland x y/n#tom holland au#tom holland and you#tom holland and y/n#tom holland x you#the girl writes i guess#txmhoellandwrites
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Good to me (Maxwell Lord x Reader)
Not my GIF
Genre: Smut, little fluff
Warnings: fem!reader, S M U T (that means sex), daddy kink, just filth really, an atom of angst I guess, I'm bad at writing smut so plz forgive me of that. Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning.
Summary: when the boss can't decide what to wear, he needs the help of his assistant to give him fashion advice, and give his something a little extra...
(I don't like to use the word p**sy or c*ck in my smut writing? I don't really know why, I just kinda feel uncomfortable writing it...so please forgive me for that)
She knew it was wrong to develop feelings for such a person but she couldn't help herself. The first time in her life she was treated well. She was treated differently from other but in a good way. She was spoilt by him. She would come to work and find something new for her on her desk every day. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe he did have feelings for her as well, but she was quick to rid her self of those thoughts. She knew that the infamous Maxwell Lord would never actually like someone like her, she was nothing but a pretty face for him to use to show off to other CEO's and potential buyers whenever he was invited to a formal gathering or some kind of party. She was his side piece, and to be honest, she didn't really mind.
She had also never had more sex in her life then when she was with Max. He loved her body, he loved making love to her body. Making her scream for him, making her cry out his name. He loved it. He was the best she had ever had, but she didn't have much to go on, she hadn't really had many sexual partners in the past, every boyfriend she had been with, had cheated on her, so she swore of dating for a while, moving out of her old city to start a fresh life. And she fell right into Max's lap.
But he was good to her. Despite the using of her body for his own personal gain and pleasure, he treated her with respect. He would never do anything she didn't want to. If she felt uncomfortable at a party, he would remove her from the room, take her outside and allow her a few minuets to calm down. He treated her to fang dinners before a party, he would take her shopping for a new dress for every party they would go to, he would buy her anything she wanted. But she never wanted a lot, she grew up having to be happy with what was given, she wasn't used to luxuries such as a new dress to wear once. He thought this was cute, adorable even. It took her a while to become more comfortable with asking him for something but even so, she still wasn't used to it.
As his personal assistant, she had no choice but to comply with everything he asked. He was defiantly hard work, but he took pride in that at times. He didn't make things easy, like choosing where he wanted to eat was made into such a fuss, he acted like a child if she suggested somewhere he didn't want to go. And then usually he would end up there any way. Either that or he would end up eating her instead.
She sat at her desk reading over his schedule for the next two day, adjusting times and moving meetings as he had asked her, she then would have to phone up the people coming to said meetings to inform them of the time change and apologise in Mr Lord's behalf for the change. She took a sip of her freshly made tea and heard her phone ring. She put down her mug and lifted the phone to her ear.
"Good afternoon, Maxwell Lord's office, how can I help you?" she had said this more times then she could count, she even ended up saying it in her dreams, when she dreamed about behind fingered by him while she took and important call.
"I need you to help me" Max's voice sounded over the phone. He didn't sound desperate like he usually would if he needed to fuck her. It sounded more of a genuine request, a genuine task needed to be done.
"Yes sir, I'm on my way" she nodded and put the phone down. She stood and grabbed her notebook thinking it would be a good idea to update him on his schedule changes. She straightened her skirt and made her way up to his office. The ride in the elevator was slow but it always was when she was going to his office. She supposed it was the anticipation of seeing him that slowed down the experience.
It dinged and the doors opened. She stepped out of the elevator and walked over to the door of his office. She didn't knock, she never did, he told her to always just walk in, regardless of if he asked her there or not. "Mr Lord" she greeted as she shut the door behind her.
She saw he was standing in front of the full body mirror he had on the far left wall of his office. He had a nice dark grey three piece suit one, one she hadn't seen before but already loved. He turned to face her, holding out a black tie and a black bow tie. "Which one?" He asked her.
She placed her notebook down on his desk and walked over to him, her eyes scanning between the two items "what's the occasion?" She asked.
"I've been asked to go to a dinner with a business partner and his wife, to discuss the future of our partnership"
"If it's a dinner then defiantly the tie" she said as she took hold of said item. He threw the bow tie behind him.
"Would you mind?" He asked in reference to her tying the tie.
"Not at all" she smiled, she turned up the collar of his freshly pressed white dress shirt and pulled the tie around his neck. He watched her every moved as she proceeded to tie the tie. He felt a little bit embarrassed that he still couldn't do it himself, but he always had someone to do it for him so he never bothered to learn.
"How are you so good a doing this?" He asked her.
"Tying a tie?" She asked, a slight laugh in her voice "I used to do it for my dad all the time. I was the only girl in the family. So I had to take on the mother role, even though I was the youngest. But one of my brothers used to help me cook sometimes, but they were all useless at tying a tie" she straightened the tie and flattened it against his firm chest with a soft smile "there. Perfect"
"Why did you never tell me that?" He asked
"Tell you what?"
"About your family"
"It never came up. But you don't need to worry about it" she assured him "you do need to worry about your shoes though"
"My shoes?" He looked down at them "what's wrong with my shoes?"
"You can't wear a grey suit and brown shoes Max" she laughed "you have any other shoes?"
"Over there" he nodded to the other side of the room where he had a line of about six pairs of shoes. She walked over to them and examined each pair. He silently walked over to her. She bent over and her ass hit against his crotch. She noticed his body stiffen against her making her smirk slightly. He grabbed her hips pulling her ass further against him. He pushed her up against the wall, his breath was deep in her ear making her whimper slightly. "Do you want to come with me tonight?" He whispered while kissing the side of her neck, his hands squeezing her ass.
"Do you want me to come?" She asked him.
"Yes" he mumbled. He began to grid his crotch into her ass, he grunted through gritted teeth "fuck..I need you baby"
"I need you too.." she heard the buckle of his belt come undone and the zip to his trousers undo as well. He pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties making her gasp "fuck Max...what am I going to wear now? I can't sit commando all day" she whined, her body still flush against the wall.
"Would you prefer to sit with my dick inside you all day?" He questioned her. She shivered at the thought, she imagined his dick inside her as he filled out papers and she took calls from business partners, him using her at any random moment to get himself off and her not being able to do anything about it, and the possibility of someone walking in while he was having his way with her, their face when they see her sat on his lap being mercilessly fuck by her boss. "You like that idea don't you?" He whispered darkly in her ear, his hand moving to her front, he traced his thick fingers over the slit of her womanhood making her shiver again and bite her lip "you like the thought of warming daddy's dick don't you? You want someone to walk in and see how you love to have daddy's dick inside you, don't you baby girl?"
"Yes! Yes daddy I do!" She yelped
"But you're only for me to see aren't you, only for me to use. No one else can fuck you like I can"
"No! No daddy! Only you can have me! No one can fuck me as good as you! Oh please fuck me! I need you so bad!" She pleased. He smirked and waisted no time in shoving his dick inside her tight hole making her scream.
His pounding started immediately, giving her no time to adjust to his size, but they had done this enough times so it wouldn't take long "shit, you're always so tight baby. So tight and so wet"
She nodded at his praised "only for you daddy" she moaned. His hips were relentless, pushing her further and further into the wall. One of his hands held a strong grip on her hip, it probably would leave some sort of mark there. The other grabbed her hair, pulling into a messy ponytail. He knew she loved it when he did this, he knew she loved when his hands were in her hair, whether that be an affectionate action or an action of lust, she didn't care.
She helplessly gripped at the flat surface of the wall, she desperately wanted to grab hold of something but there was nothing for her to hold. His office was filled with the sounds of her whines and moans as he pounded into her, occasionally slapping her ass to make her yelp. "You're such a good girl for daddy. Taking me so well all the time" he complimented. He thanked whatever greater being there was that his office was sound proof, it meant that he could get her to scream as loud as possible and no one would ever know, he didn't want anyone to head the noise she made, they were made for him and him alone.
Her body tightened when the head of his dick hit that special spot inside her. Her fists clenched and unclenched in a rhythm again the wall, he could tell she was getting close "you hold it in baby girl. You don't come until I tell you"
Her breath came out in heavy pants as she nodded at his request. He pulled her body against his by her hair, her head landing on his shoulder. His hips never once faltered in his action. His hand that was once on her hip now moved to to her womanhood and began rubbing vicious circles on to her clit. She let out cries of his name, her legs beginning to shake at the stimulation "you hold it in" he ordered, his voice deep and dark. He loved to see her like this. So close to the edge that she started to cry, wanting nothing more then sweet release. One of her hands grabbed his wrist that was in her hair while the other grabbed his wrist that was torturing her sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Daddy!" She cried out "please! Let me come! I want to come so bad! I want to come all over your dick!" She begged. His dick twitched inside her at hearing how desperate and broken her voice was becoming, he could feel his own climax fast approaching "please daddy, I can't hold it for much longer"
"Come baby girl. Come all over me" he told her. Her grip on his wrists tightened as her back arched, her ass pressing further into him and she came with a scream of his name. Her followed shortly after, enjoying the feeling of her walls clenching around him, milking every last drop on his come into her body.
The room was filled now only with the sound of heavy breaths as the two stayed connected for a few moments. His thrusts slowed to a stop and he removed his hand from her clit, placing it on her stomach. He turned his head and began placing gentle kisses to her cheek as she came down from her climax. "You're amazing Max..." she whispered.
"So are you baby girl.." he replied in the same softness. He dropped his hand from her hair and carefully pulled himself out of her, she whimpered at the loss of warmth inside her. The two went about fixing their appearances. He tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his trousers while she straightened her skirt. He legs wobbled as she walked over to the mirror in his office to fix her hair.
She ran her hands through the strands to make it look less messy and less like he had been pulling on it. He appeared next to her and rested his large hand on the small of her back as he watched her every movement in the mirror. "You are so beautiful" he muttered under his breath making her blush. "I don't tell you that enough"
"Well, it's not really your problem to tell me that, right? If we were together it would be but...we're not..." he noticed how her voice got quieter to wards the end of her sentence. He also noticed the sadness in her eyes as they met his in the reflective surface.
"In that case, maybe we should be together" he proclaimed.
"Wh-what?" She stuttered, her eyes wide at his statement. He turned her body so now they were facing each other, his hand gently rubbed up and down on her arms.
"Do you not want to be with me?" He questioned.
"I do Max" she whispered as she fiddled with the lapel of his blazer "I do want to be with you..."
"But..?"
She looked up at him "I'm not sure I'm the right woman for you. I want what's best for you. You deserve someone who is on your level, someone who actually enjoys all the parties, someone who is used to living the highlight, someone who likes being in the spotlight, someone who won't argue when you want to buy them something. I don't think I'm the one you need"
"You are. You're the only one I need. If I had someone who didn't argue when I wanted to buy them something I wouldn't get to see the smile you give me when you get something. That smile of gratitude. The smile that warms my heart whenever you wear it" he brushed a piece of hair behind her ear "you are the only woman I want. The only one I need, you are what's best for me. I’ll give you whatever you want”
Her eyes flicked between his as she lifted her hands to rest on his cheeks, a soft smile then formed on her rosy lips “I just want you” He flashed a smile at her before finally pressing his lips to her in a long awaited kiss.
He was defiantly good to her, and now that she was officially his, he would be even better.
Masterlist
#Maxwell lord#Maxwell lord x reader#Maxwell lord fanfic#wonder women 1984#fluff#smut#Pedro Pascal#fanfic
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You & Me : chapter 21
A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA
Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS
CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20
NOTES:
-one chapter is her pov, the next is his.
-4k
-im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it.
-there WILL be smut. but not only smut.
-this is a romance, comedy, smut story.
-for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.
- notes: thank you for the comments and notes to those who still send them! it means a lot to me. i hope this chapter isnt disappointing!
if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)
requests! : MAJOR SPOILERS! i even added one that i got for AM Conversations lol so yep! keep sending them! the more i get, the longer this story will be lol!
Chapter 21 : His chapter
NIALL
The way we had made love kept playing over and over in my head but what I was really obsessed with was how she looked, wearing only my shirt (not even panties), sitting in the couch as she ate the meal I had prepared. She had almost choked on the rice when something funny happened in the movie we were watching and I never really noticed how endearing it was... how adorable she was. Now that we had had sex a few times, I could see a bit clearer. I was still horny for her and was ready to go whenever she wanted to, but I could also realize the little things I had missed. The way her nose raised up when I teased her about her clumsiness, the way her face lighted up when she was excited (she would even sometimes make a few small jumps), the way she bit her bottom lip when she was trying not to laugh, and even the messy state her hair was in when she'd wake up in the morning. I could make a list of all the things she did that I adored and sometimes, I spent half an hour actually listing her cute behaviors in my head.
I knew she was busy these days and I didn't want to bother her but I couldn't help but sent her a few text messages through the days. She didn't seem to bother, she even answered me quite quickly, but on friday, she replied with a message that sort of got to me.
'Did you ever have a talk with Louis about the argument you two had?'
In fact, we had not and I knew that since a few days had passed, we were both calm now and could have a discussion without risking to jump at each other's throat. It was not like me to be violent anyway but Louis knew me well and he knew exactly on which button to press to anger me. I sent him a quick text message, inviting him over and got up to check if I had enough beer left for the night. My phone beeped and I chuckled at his answer that consisted of a smiley emoji showing his teeth and the words 'On my way' written with a few exclamation points.
I quickly sent Olivia a message to tell her about it and then licked my lips before pressing them together and typing something else.
'I miss you, petal, send a selfie.'
I waited about a minute and smiled when I saw the picture of her doing a pouty face with El and Julie doing the same behind her and I realized that Louis was either stuck with the 3 girls and was glad to escape to come to my place, or he was alone by himself at his house and I was saving him from boredom. Either way, it made me laugh and I hesitated but decided to send her an other message.
'Love that selfie but when you have time, you should send me an other kind of selfie 😏'
'😂😂😂 Perv!'
I laughed and put my phone away before rummaging through my pantry to find chips and candies and brought everything to the living room along with beers before the doorbell rang. I breathed in and walked up to it, opening it slowly only to see one of my best friends waiting for me on the other side. He shook his eyebrows and the left corner of his lips curled into an amused smile.
"Hey Neil." he let out, making me smile too. "Thanks for inviting me. Livi said I should bring you this."
He moved his hand up and I noticed he was holding two bottles, one of vodka and one of jack daniels, in-between his fingers. I chuckled and moved away to let him in, following him to the living room. He put the bottles on the coffee table and turned to me before we hugged each other.
"I'm sorry Niall, I should have told you."
"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have been so pissed about it."
We pulled away and Louis raised his eyebrows before rushing to the kitchen and coming back with two glasses. He poured vodka in both and handed me one before clinking his against mine.
"To neverending friendship." he let out, making me smile. "Nothing can break this bond yea?"
I smiled and nodded, licking my lips. "Yea."
We sat together and he opened a beer. I stared at him as he dropped the cap on the coffee table and leaned against the couch before turning to look at me. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to say something but I just grabbed my beer too and took a sip.
"I know I shouldn't have had sex with your ex girlfriend, Niall. " he pointed out after a while. "I just... we became very close, and it's the only way we found not to throw ourselves at random people in bars and shit. I mean I love my son more than anything in the world, but that wasn't planned and I didn't want something like that to happen again. I mean it was a baby, and it was good news, but it could have been something bad, you know?"
It didn't make much sense to me but I kept quiet, curious to hear all he had to say about that.
"It really just happened. The first time we did it she was... so sad. I had just learned that I was going to be a dad, and we both didn't know how to cope with that."
"Who had the idea?" I asked, surprised that those words even came out of my mouth and regretting them right after. I wanted to know but at the same time, i didn't.
Louis sighed but kept looking in my eyes. "Hers, I guess." he shrugged. "But also not really. It's complicated. She proposed it, changed her mind, and I insisted. She said It was the best way to stop hurting for a few hours and honestly Niall, she was right. Every time we needed to tone down the pain in the next few months, that's how we did it. It was a bad way to handle it I mean, we went to therapy later and the more we healed, the less we fucked."
Quickly, I swallowed my beer, emptying it and putting it a bit roughly on the coffee table before grabbing the glass and pouring myself more vodka. I could feel Louis' eyes on me as I took a long sip of it and he sighed.
"I'm sorry, Niall."
"I just can't believe you choked my ex girlfriend." I pointed out in a low tone. "You called her names. You made her moan and cum. But the worst of all, Louis, is that you became so close to her that you guys can just look at each other and know exactly what the other is thinking."
I didn't say more but I knew that it also meant that in bed, he knew exactly what she liked. He knew exactly how to turn her on, how to touch her to give her pleasure, how to make her shake beneath him. He had seen her in a vulnerable state that I wished I was the only one who saw. I wanted to be the only one to read her that way, whether it was sexually or romantically.
"You're her best friend now and I'm not." I mumbled. "I'm nothing."
I swallowed the rest of my glass, feeling suddenly my whole body on fire but I didn't know if it was because of anger or because of the alcohol. Perhaps, a bit of both.
"I won't lie to you, Niall. She's my best friend. She's my other half." he shook his head. "But it's just friendship. It means a lot, but we don't have romantic love for each other. The special connection we have is all about friendship. A deep one alright, but still."
"You don't get it." I scoffed, looking down at my glass as I felt myself get slightly dizzy. "She used to have that connection with me."
I felt Louis move on the couch and he got closer, still holding his glass but he waited until I looked up in his eyes to talk.
"No, what you had was stronger than that. The connection you two had, Niall, was stronger than what me and her have. And you're the one who broke it. It'll come back, I can feel it. But you're gonna have to work for it. She was hurt, and even if I know she loves you, she's so scared."
He took a pause as I let the words he spoke sink in.
"I don't think you realize what happened after you broke up with her, Niall. She was broken. She was like a zombie, numb and lost. She lost her boyfriend and her best friend at the same time. The person she loves the most in the world. You're still that person so... fight. And don't hurt her again because I swear I'm going to kill you."
"Did she date anyone else?"
Louis sighed and finished his beer before filling our glasses again. Waiting for his answers every single time I asked a question was driving me crazy.
"Yea, some girl she met I can't remember where." he shrugged. "It was not serious because we didn't..." he stopped himself and looked up in my eyes. "We didn't stop having sex while she was with her. I mean I'm not even sure they were official, I never asked and she didn't want to talk about it."
"So she never cheated on Dylan with you." I pointed out, suddenly a bit stressed.
"No. And I never cheated on El. With anyone. You know me." he let out firmly. "She cheated on him with you though, didn't she."
"I guess. From what I understand, he knows or something. I just don't know what to do to make her choose me. I've tried telling her how I felt and I made her many promises, but she doesn't trust me, so I'm getting drunk tonight trying not to think too much of my ex girlfriend riding you and moaning your name, or about her getting married to an other famous prick."
"Who's the prick? You or me?"
I smiled and chuckled low. "Both."
I thought he'd throw something at me but he just laughed and shook his head.
"Liv has her secrets but I feel like you have yours, too." Louis let out as we drank our third glass. "You two are gonna have to talk to each other before anything can be official between you."
I groaned. "Talking is all we do. I told her so many things I thought I'd never have the guts, or the chance to tell her. I don't know if she can handle finding out about who I was when she was not around."
"She can." he argued. "Besides, it must not have been that bad since nothing appeared online."
I chuckled. "I'm normally quite good at being private, so don't be so sure."
"I'm sure it's nothing that can't be forgiven. I mean she slept with your best mate and you forgave her, so." he laughed, making me groan again and grimace.
I heard my phone beep again and grabbed it only to smile when I saw her name on the screen. I didn't know why everything that was linked to her made me happy but I knew I was a bit tipsy anyway. I quickly lost my smile when I saw the picture she sent me and my jaw dropped.
'For your eyes only 😉' was written right under a picture of her.
"Jesus Christ."
My eyes roamed on her body and I felt my heartbeats accelerate. She was naked in front of the mirror and her free hand was hiding her pussy. I wanted her so bad that I had to reach for my cock to adjust myself, almost forgetting that Louis was there with me. I thought about touching her and groaned low until Louis hit my knee with his.
"You're fucking drooling, what is it?"
With difficulty, I took my eyes off of my phone and looked up at my friend who had an amused smile on the lips. I turned the screen off and cleared my throat, grabbing my glass and swallowing what was left in it as Louis started laughing.
"It's Olivia isn't it?" he asked, his smile growing. "What did she say? No wait, did she send you a picture? She's supposed to be with my girlfriend right now!"
"Well trust me, your girlfriend is not on the picture. She was not even in the same room."
"No fucking way, she sent you a nude!"
I opened my lips to answer something cheeky but was cut by the sound of my phone again, feeling my heart jump in my chest at the thought of her messaging me but I frowned when I saw who it was coming from and made a small grimace. I should have blocked Heidi's number but I normally don't do that because I'm not a bitter person. Still, if she was to message me too much, I'd definitely have to do something. I clicked on it and it's the message I saw first.
'Told you. Call me.'
I frowned more and scrolled down to see the picture. It was Olivia wearing a wedding dress. I had no idea where the picture came from and I knew that I should try to find details on the picture that would give me clues but all I could focus on was her. Something jumped in my chest but unlike what Heidi probably thought, it was not sadness that I felt when I looked at that picture. I was pretty sure Heidi had sent that to me just to hurt me or start something between Olivia and I but I didn't care. All I cared about was all the thoughts running through in my mind. She looked incredible. She looked so beautiful I felt like I was witnessing something I was not supposed to, as if I was the future husband and that I was not allowed to see her in her wedding dress before she walked down the altar. I felt myself tear up and brought my hand to cover my mouth, swallowing hard and blinking a few times.
I knew Olivia was not sure she was going to get married to Dylan yet and for now, it was enough for me. I also knew she had to go through with the wedding plan and even if it hurt, it was still legit. I could wait a few weeks, right? After all, she waited years for me and never gave up.
"Olivia was shopping for her wedding dress today?" I just asked, my eyes glued to the picture.
"Yea, she was going with Julie and El." Louis confirmed as I shook my head. "Are you mad?"
"Mad?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and looking up at him. "No, I'm just.. she looks amazing."
I turned my phone and Louis moved closer to check the picture before moving back and leaning against the couch again. I turned the screen to me again and sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing them roughly.
"So which picture do you prefer?" Louis asked with a smirk, making me roll my eyes.
"You want to know if my lust for her is stronger than my love for her?" I just asked. "The answer is no. I just feel a bit guilty for even seeing the one with the wedding dress."
"Who sent it to you?"
"Heidi." I replied with a grimace, making Louis roll his eyes.
"Never liked this girl. No idea what you saw in her. But she did that to hurt you, clearly."
"Well it doesn't, it just makes me want to..." I shook my head, searching for my words. "It makes me want to marry her."
With a chuckle, Louis moved closer to me again, his eyebrows raised in surprise and a small smile playing across his lips.
"Excuse me you said what?"
"I want to marry her. You know, have kids, live together, plan an actual future..."
"Who are you and what did you do with me mate?"
"Shut up!" I groaned before chuckling, throwing the untouched bag of chips at him.
He just caught it, opened it and took a handful of chips that he brought to his mouth.
"Yuh shoo tah uh." he muttered as I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to swallow. "You really should tell her." he repeated.
"I don't know how to tell her I love her anymore. I don't know how to prove to her that she's the only one I need and that I'll never break her heart again. That I will never leave, no matter what happens."
I knew I was getting drunk by the minute but I still grabbed my glass and poured more alcohol in it without checking from which bottle it was from. I drank it as I shook my leg, racking my brain to find a way to show her that I meant it. I jumped off the couch and felt suddenly dizzy and held myself on the couch, making Louis laugh.
"Mate, sit back down, you're drunk."
"Nooo no, I know how to make her realize how much she means to me!"
Louis frowned but I ignored him, rushing to my room and searching through a box of my old stuff. It took me about ten minutes but I finally found an old letter Olivia had written me when we were teens and brought it back, giving it to Louis with a big smile. I stood next to him with a large smile as he read it and finally, he looked up at me and chuckled.
"Okay she wrote you letters like that and you didn't know she was in love with you?" he just said with an other chuckle. "Mate, you need someone to hit you behind the head. I can do it if you want me to."
"No, Tommo. You don't get it." I grabbed the paper from his hands and turned it around, pointing at the bottom. "There's her name. In her own handwriting."
Louis frowned, then realized and finally, his eyes got bigger and he got up, grabbing both my shoulders and raising his eyebrows before shaking me slightly.
"Niall, you never ever wanted a tattoo in your life!" he pointed out. "Besides, you're drunk, no one will agree to tattoo you!"
"Oh but you know tattoo artists that will anyway yea? I'm counting on you!"
He stared at me for a few minutes and I brought my hands together in a way to beg him. He ended up rolling his eyes with a smile, making mine grow even more.
"Fine! But if you regret it tomorrow, don't you fucking blame me!"
I barely remembered anything, from the way the needles felt to the final result but when Louis drove us back home, he kept glancing at me. The window was down and the cool wind of the night helped me sober up. I still didn't regret it but I knew it was a possibility when I'd wake up. I'd deal with it in the morning though, I was getting a bit too tired to think about it.
"Did it hurt?"
"Not really. Perhaps I was too drunk to feel it." I replied with a shrug, leaning my head on the seat. "You think she'll realize how much I love her with that tattoo?"
"First off, you're gonna have to show her. It's super small, and it's in a spot no one can see unless you're naked I mean, why did you want it there?" Louis frowned before shaking his head. "Anyway, not the point. She already knows you love her. So do I think this tattoo will suddenly bring her trust in you back? No. But it'll definitely entertain her."
I groaned again. "Shut up."
"Hey, I'm just so happy I got to witness that once in my life. Pretty sure it's the only tattoo you'll ever get. It's an honor for me, thank you, Neil."
"I hate you."
He was right, I had chosen a spot no one could see, at the top of my thigh, near my stomach. I've never been a fan of tattoos and I couldn't find a place to put it that wouldn't be obvious and the only other places that people never see would have given her a very wrong impression of my intentions. I could feel it burn on my skin and unlike what I thought, It didn't make me feel weird. Louis was right, it was a very small tattoo, not worth writing home about, but everyone who knew me was aware that it did mean something.
Louis parked and we walked inside in silence but he stopped near the door and patted my shoulder gently.
"I think I'm gonna leave." he just said in a low tone. "Do you need help to clean or anything?"
I shook my head and grabbed my phone, checking her picture again and surprisingly, it was the wedding dress one. I pressed my lips together and Louis moved closer, his hand squeezing my shoulder this time.
"Do you want me to call her for you?" he asked in a gentle tone. "Maybe she'd want to spend the night here? I'll even give her a ride if she wants."
I looked at my friend and felt a wave of affection for him. Knowing he was there for me and that he cared made me feel better. When I broke up with Olivia, Louis had disappeared and he hadn't been much present until I ran into her again. Now, it felt like he was back in my life for real and I liked it.
"I don't know..."
I was not sure. I wanted her with me, and the craving was intense, but I didn't want her to feel like she had to take care of me again. Still, the thought of holding her in my arms was so hard it made a shiver cross my back.
"I started writing songs for a new album." I let out randomly. "All the fucking songs are about her."
Louis looked at me for a few seconds and sighed. "Tell her, Niall. Do it." He grabbed his phone and clicked on something before bringing the phone to his ear.
"Hey love, I'm with Niall right now and he really wants to see you." Louis looked up at me as I rolled my eyes and he smirked. "Why didn't he call you himself?" He took the phone away from his mouth and whispered to me. "She says you never replied to her last text message."
I closed my eyes, remembering the nude she sent me and let out a low curse word, feeling suddenly like an ass and hoping she didn't think I didn't enjoy looking at her naked.
"No darling," Louis continued. "He was too shy to call you. And he didn't answer your text because he was too busy jerking off to it."
I felt my heart jump in my chest and hit his arm a bit roughly but it only made him smile more. I closed my eyes and grunted low, hearing Louis say a bunch of 'Mmhm''s before saying goodbye and hanging up.
"She'll be there in half an hour." he sent me a satisfied smile. "I mean she said 15 minutes but, you know her."
I remained motionless for a few seconds, just looking at my friend, and finally, I brought him into a hug that he quickly answered. I moved my chin down, trying not to cry, and just closed my eyes.
"I know you love her, mate. And I think you two are soulmates." he admitted in a low tone. "Fight for it. Get her back. And then, never let her go."
#niall horan#niall horan smut#niall horan fluff#niall horan writing#niall horan story#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fan fiction#my fanfics#yam#here is to louis being an amazing friend as usual :)
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