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wishesunderthestars · 4 years

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Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

“I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

"She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

"She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

You had a very bad feeling about this.

Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

"But I was! I still am!"

Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

“I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

"No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

"She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

"-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

"We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

"Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

"What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

"Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

"Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

"I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

"Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

"There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

"One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

"And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

"I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

"I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

"I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

"He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

"I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

"But you don't."

You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

"You're thinking too loud again."

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

"Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

"What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

"What do you want this to be?"

Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

"Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

"He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

"I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

"No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

"It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

"It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

"It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jikook #yoonmin #sope

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

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If Tomorrow Starts Without Me - Chapter 10

I cannot believe we are at the last chapter. I have no words to express how much I appreciate all the love for this story, for the version of Aaron and Emily that are in it, and the family I have created for them here.

It means...so, so much. Rating: Mature (smut in this chapter)

Words: 5.2k

You can read over on a03, or below the cut

Please let me know what you think <3

April 1993

Emily hated these events. How false everyone was - plastic smiles and lies scattered around the room in a way that made her skin crawl. She always had an escape route, a place of solace she could find when her mother was getting too much for her.

This particular event was always held in the same hotel, and so her hiding spot was always the same. A small, windowless conference room just down the corridor from the ballroom. Her mother had never found it, or her, so she cursed when she heard the door opening only 20 minutes after she had snuck off.

She sighs as she turns around, ready to tell off whoever had disturbed her only for her to come face to face with Aaron. “Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.” He answers as he clicks the door closed behind him. “I’m off duty now. And you promised me a dance if I remember correctly? Something about it being the perfect thing to piss off your mother.” His smile disappears when she doesn’t return it, discomfort clearly laced throughout her body. “Are you ok?”

Emily tilts her head slightly at him, unsure how honest she could be. Since they had gone for drinks together and he had told her about his ex, who she had since learned was called Haley, things had changed between them. They had always been friendly, but it had now taken a turn into flirting. Long glances at each other in the hallways of her mother’s home, lingering touches that definitely were not appropriate. There was something about Aaron that she trusted, something that made her want to be around him.

“I hate these things. My mother parades me around like I’m a thing to show off to society.” She scrunches her nose at the idea of it and looks at the floor. “All those men out there looking at me like I’m some prize to be won.”

He’d noticed it. The way the men in the room had watched her as she walked around with her mother, his blood boiling he saw slightly wandering hands as she was pulled into another dance she clearly didn’t want to be a part of. Aaron didn’t question exactly why it bothered him so much, not wanting to pick at that thread and unravel the friendship he had built with Emily in the time they had known each other. Spending time with her already meant more to him than it probably should.

“You deserve better than that.” He says, frowning in a way that makes her smile. She reaches for him on some kind of instinct, not even realising she's doing it until her finger traces the frown line between his eyebrows. Emily smiles at him, and takes in the genuine concern on his face. He cared about her and expected nothing in return, and she couldn’t remember the last time someone made her feel so safe.

So she bridges the gap between them and kisses him, and she would spend the rest of her life claiming he kissed her first.

For a moment he’s still, and she's worried she has read it wrong. That the subtle moments between them over the past few weeks since she’d dragged him to a bar against his will had all been in her head.

Then he kisses her back, his lips pressing back into hers as his hand moves to the back of her head, tangling in her hair to hold her close.

Emily pulls away from him, hiking her dress up so she can sit on the table. She drags him closer, spreading her legs so he could stand between them and she kisses him again.

Aaron pushes one of the thin straps of her dress off her shoulder, following the material with his lips. A soft sigh escapes her and it seems to bring him out of it, and he pulls back from her. He cups her cheek with his hand, running a thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She replies before kissing him again, her teeth clashing with his with the force of it. His hands are all over her then, pushing her dress the rest of the way up her thighs. He bites her lip as he pushes her underwear to one side and she gasps into his mouth.

He takes her apart with his fingers first, covering her mouth gently with his spare hand as she cries out, worried they would attract attention from anyone walking past. Emily kisses him harshly then, shaking hands pulling at his belt buckle whilst she wraps her legs around his waist.

“Em, wait.” He murmurs against her lips, gasping as she grabs him, pulling him further into the cradle of her hips.

“If you ask me if I’m sure again, I’ll kill you.” She laughs, pressing a kiss to his dimpled cheek, wrapping a leg around him tighter to encourage him further.

As he enters her they both gasp, and she wretches her mouth from his to rest her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she adjusts. “Move, Aaron. Please fucking move.”

He complies, gently at first but goes harder, faster each time she begs him for it. She breaks apart around him, and nods into his shoulder at his unasked question, feeling him fall over the edge inside of her only moments later.

She leans her forehead against his, breathing heavily as her heart rate returns to normal.

“I’m sorry.” He says as he kisses her.

“What are you apologising for?” She asks, kissing him again, trying to regain her breath but finding herself unable to stop touching him

“You deserved better than that.” He says, echoing his earlier words of how other men had treated her.

“It was pretty good from my point of view. Excellent even” She says, biting her lip as she looks at him, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. “But, if you think you can do better...we could always go to mine?”

Aaron doesn’t miss the tentative nature of her question, the way she seems nervous for the first time since she had kissed him.

“Won’t your mother miss you?”

She shakes her head. “No. And, if you remember, I have just moved into my own place. No interruptions.” She leans forward and kisses him. “At all.” Another kiss.

He grins against her lips. “Then lead the way.”

Aaron knows he would follow her anywhere. ______________________

Emily calls him 20 minutes after JJ, her name flashing on his phone screen making him immediately feel better. Relief floods through his body as he abandons packing the bag on the bed so he can answer his phone.

“I’m okay.” She says as a greeting, although she doesn’t sound it. He’s known and loved her long enough to know when she's in pain, even when he can’t actually see her. Aaron can hear the sound of the buzz of an emergency room around her.

“Em. The car you were in was hit by a truck. You’re not okay.”

She chuckles slightly, the sound dying on her lips, and then winces. “Fine, I’m not okay.” She admits. “My entire body hurts, but you don’t have to come here. I’ll be home as soon as we recapture him.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says, feigning innocence.

“I know you’re already packing a bag and thinking of a way to get the kids to my parents, despite the fact that it’s midnight.”

His eyes drift to the bag on the bed, hurriedly packed with things he hadn’t even really thought about as he shoved them in. She has known and loved him just as long as he has done the same for her, so it shouldn’t surprise him that she knows this would be his instinct, but it does.

Aaron thinks he could be married to her for 100 years and still be surprised by her. Amelia cries out, despite him only just getting her settled back into bed.

“Is she ok?” Emily asks, sounding weary.

“She’s fine, Em. Just missing you I think.” He sighs. The separation anxiety was bad on both sides, Amelia was just the right age for it. Crying out any time Emily wasn’t in the same room as her, having spent her entire life with her mother just within reach. He knew Emily was struggling too. She had gotten used to being around the kids all the time, and when she left for work only a couple of days ago it felt very reminiscent of her first day back after having Theo and Amelia. Torn between her family and her job, knowing both were important parts of who she was.

Aaron hated that her first case back had ended up like this, with her hurt and too far away for him to see her. To check she was really okay. It felt like a taste of how she must have felt when he was in hospital, leaving him behind and not having any way of knowing how he was.

“I miss her too. All of you.”

“We’ll be here when you get back.” ______________________

She realises she should have expected it the moment she sees him standing on the tarmac as she gets off the jet. He was never going to leave it, to let her make her own way home despite her assurances before they took off that Derek was going to drop her home.

Emily can’t hide the wince that escapes her as she walks down the steps of the jet to the ground, the pain vibrating through her aching body, stiff from a long flight and a lack of movement.

She tries to smile as she approaches him. She wants to reassure him that despite her appearance, the black eye, the massive bandage on her arm and how slowly she was moving that she really was ok. The concerned look on his face tells her that she has failed, and he gently traces the bruise below her eye with the pad of his thumb.

“Sweetheart.” Aaron says as he wraps his arms around her, loosening his grip when she stiffens in his embrace.

Emily presses her forehead into his shoulder. “Hell of a first case back.”

He pulls back from her, and sees Derek standing behind her with her go-bag in his hand. “Let’s go home, the kids are excited to see you.”

Aaron grabs her bag from Derek and throws a grateful nod to the team, knowing that they would have looked after her in his absence. He guides her over to their car and tries to help her in, but she bats his hands away, claiming she doesn’t need help.

He says nothing when he has to help her clip her seatbelt into place, the pain in her upper body too much for her to do it herself. ______________________

Theo runs into her so quickly when they get back to the apartment that they don’t have time to remind him to be gentle. He recoils quickly when she can’t control her reaction, the yelp of pain that escapes her as her son wraps his arms around her at full force.

“It’s ok, Theo. I promise.” She says, hoping he doesn’t pick up on the breathlessness in her voice. “You just need to be careful, okay.”

He nods. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Oh sweetheart.” She tugs him back into her, hand cupping the back of his head. “You could never hurt me, ok?”

She leads them over to the couch so she could sit down, and Theo immediately sits next to her, fingers tracing over the large white bandage on her arm. “Did the bad guy hurt you?”

Emily smiles softly at him. “Yes, sweetie. The bad guy hurt me.”

He looks concerned as he reaches for the bruise on her eye, fingers less gently than Aaron’s had been earlier and she manages to suppress a wince. “Was it George?”

Emily’s smile falters at that, and she pulls her son into her as best she can, hugging him close. “No, baby. George can’t hurt any of us anymore, remember? Daddy made sure of that.”

She feels Theo nod against her and she sighs. There were moments when she would love to bring George Foyet back just to kill him again herself. Whenever Theo mentioned him, fear colouring his face, she felt the hatred burning for the man throughout her entire body.

“Someone heard that Mommy was home.”

Emily looks up to see Aaron holding Amelia in his arms, the little girl scrambling to get into her arms. She winces as she takes her, the strain on her upper body unavoidable.

“Hi sweet girl.” She holds her daughter against her chest and the little girl immediately melts into her embrace.

Jack appears next, his concern all over his face as he looks at her. The moment he registers the bandage on her arm and her black eye apparent. “I’m fine, Jack.” She says before he could ask. “I promise.”

He nods, hands dug into his jeans pockets. “I’m glad.” He clears his throat. “I was thinking we could get pizza for dinner?”

Emily smiles widely at him. “Sounds great.”

______________________

Aaron puts Amelia to bed, and observes Theo brushing his teeth at Emily’s request. When he’s done Emily isn’t in the living room like he was when he had left her.

He seeks her out like he always has, knows her well enough to know her hiding spots even in this temporary apartment they found themselves living in. She is exactly where he thought she would be, looking out of the large window in the dining room that overlooked DC. It reminded him so much of the first place they’d lived together, before the desperation that came with wanting to build their family, everything that followed with Haley and then Foyet. The place where he had learnt just how much he needed her.

“Em?” He speaks gently, knowing she is still on edge from everything that’s happened recently. She jumps anyway, and he doesn’t miss the wince that follows. Her whole body still sore from the car accident she’d been in, the pain of it only beaten by the guilt she felt for not being able to save the detective she had been travelling with.

She turns to look at him, visible relief on her face when they lock eyes. She tries and fails to smile at him before turning back to look out the picture window. “Did Amelia go down ok?”

“She’s out like a light.” He walks towards her, gentle as he wraps his arms around her from behind. She leans back into him and allows him to take some of her weight. The easiness that had always been present in their physical affection had returned. His initial hesitance around her was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He was always touching her now, reassurance that she was there next to her, and he wasn’t going to open his eyes to find that this had all been some kind of cruel dream.

“Good. She’s been having trouble lately. I think it’s all the change.” She speaks absentmindedly, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

He presses a kiss into her temple. “Want to talk about it?”

“Yes.” She says, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “But I don’t know where to start.”

He leads her to the couch and curls up behind her, gently dragging her aching body into the safety of his arms. Emily leans into him and hugs his arm across her chest, seeking comfort that only he could provide her.

“One of the men he killed today was home with his wife and son.” She says quietly the words of Dan Otley’s wife floating around her head like dust in the morning sun.

I was always afraid to believe it, you know? Because then it can be taken away.

“He was right there with his family and then…he just wasn’t.”

Aaron closes his eyes and presses a kiss to her temple. He knew what she was thinking, what fears would be tearing at the edges of her nerves. “Em, we’re all here. We made it.”

It had become a mantra of sorts. Something they’d say as they coaxed each other out of nightmares where they hadn’t been so lucky. Dreams where Aaron woke with the feeling of her blood on his hands seeming so real it would take her an age to calm him down, the only solution often being pulling his head to her chest. The sound of her heartbeat was the only thing that could assure him she was ok.

She’d see them all dead. Her husband and her children were stolen from her by a man she had never personally met. Emily would wake with tears already on her cheeks, shaking hands reaching for him as he held her fiercely. Reassuring words pressed into her skin as he stroked her hair.

“I know.” She replies softly. “But Theo still isn’t sleeping through the night. Jack is as angry as he was when Haley died. You and I are both a mess.” She half laughs, half cries. “The only one who is vaguely ok is Amelia and that’s because she doesn’t understand.”

Aaron carefully moves her so he can look at her. He tucks some of her hair behind her ear, letting his thumb trail down her cheek.

“Sweetheart, we’ll get there. All of us. It will just take some time - which we have plenty of.” She nods at him, but her eyes still betray how unsure she is. How terrified she is that she could lose everything. “What can I do to help?”

Emily smiles at him and cups his cheek. “You’re already doing it. I wouldn’t say no to a bath though.”

He guides her to the ensuite off of their room and runs a bath for her. Aaron can’t help the concerned look on his face when she slowly strips off her clothes, the black bruises left by the car crash all over her body.

“I’d say it looks worse than it is.” She quips. “But it feels pretty fucking terrible.”

He helps her into the tub. He doesn’t join her, in fear of hurting her, but he kneels on the ground next to her, fingers tangled through hers before he helps her wash the horror of a day she’d had away from her skin.

When they climb into bed and he lays as far away from her as possible she gives him a reproachful look. “Get the hell over here, Aaron.”

He wraps her in his arms, and he runs his fingers up and down her back. When she wakes in the middle of the night, images of watching a man get strangled in front of her replaying in her head, Aaron keeps his hold on her.

Just like he always would. ______________________

They go house hunting and it is every bit as painful as Emily remembers it being the first time around. Every property they are shown has something missing, something that just doesn’t sit right with them. Memories of their old house, the place they had planned to call home forever, haunting them at every turn.

Then they find it. A beautiful house in Arlington that ticks all of their boxes and more. The hardwood floors and white walls create a feeling of a new beginning. Enough bedrooms for the kids to have one each and one left over for a shared home office for Aaron and Emily.

Emily falls in love with the porch swing, memories of teaching Jack spanish flooding through her as the real estate agent raves about the wrap-around porch.

They sign the deeds that afternoon. ______________________

Aaron quickly realised that moving house while you had children was significantly harder than when you didn’t. He remembered when they bought their first house. How they slowly unpacked everything in between rounds of sex, christening every room they could. Many of them more than once.

This time they had no such luxury. Jack was moody, but helped distract Theo as the team helped them carry boxes into the house.

Amelia refused to be put down or held by anyone other than either of her parents. Pitching a fit as soon as she was passed to somebody else. Which is how Aaron found himself standing in his new kitchen, his daughter on his hip, as he unboxed their crockery one-handed.

The baby clearly felt as if she wasn’t being paid enough attention, because she slapped her hand to his cheek, her fingers digging into his dimples.

He huffed out a laugh. “Amelia, sweetheart, please be gentle with Daddy’s face. Your Mommy quite likes it.”

“Dada.”

He stops, almost drops the plate he had in his hand before he is able to put it down on the kitchen island. He looks at Amelia who is staring right at him.

“Did you just say, dada?”

“Dada.”

Aaron kisses the side of her head before leaving the kitchen in a rush, in a desperate attempt to find his wife. “Emily?”

“Aaron?” Her breathless reply comes back from the floor above, and he hears her racing down the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, but-”

“Jesus, Aaron.” She admonishes him, sighing. “Can you maybe not scare the shit out of me next time by shouting like the house was on fire?”

“Emily.” He says, stopping her before she could rant any further. She purses her lips and stands in front of him, hands on her hips. He turns his attention back to Amelia and bounces her on his hip slightly. “Amelia, who is this?” He asks, pointing at himself.

It takes a moment, and he briefly thinks he imagined it, but then he hears her sweet little voice again. “Dada.”

Aaron looks at Emily, and sees how tears immediately spring to her eyes. She steps towards them and hugs him, kissing Amelia as she does so. “What a clever girl you are.” ______________________

Emily misses the first time Amelia walks. It happened when she was away on a case. It hurts when Aaron tells her over the phone, a burning sensation in her chest as she fails to accept she missed such a pivotal moment in her daughter's life.

The pain eases when Jack texts her a video of the moment. The footage shows Amelia taking unsure steps between Theo and Aaron, the joy on her husband's face outweighing any upset she felt.

When she gets home two days later her amazing, loving husband recreates it for her. He makes her stand in the same hallway from the video and he asks Theo to stand a few paces away from him and Amelia before he sets the little girl on the floor.

Emily watches as Amelia toddles slowly back and forth between Theo and Aaron, Jack recording it on his cell phone, soft laughs coming from all of them. For the first time since that morning, when she walked into their old house and found a bullet hole in the wall and Aaron’s blood on the floor, she truly believed everything was going to be fine. That they had made it.

“Sweetheart?” She looks up to see Aaron standing at her side, Amelia in his arms, giggling to herself. “You ok?”

Emily nods and diverts her attention to their daughter who was now reaching out for her. She pulls Amelia into her arms and presses a kiss to the side of her head, her emotions getting the better of her as she thinks about her baby girl walking, and how grateful she was that they got to celebrate that moment as a family.

Aaron notices, as he always does, and he pulls Emily into a hug, holding her and their daughter in his embrace. He kisses Emily’s forehead and places a hand on Amelia’s back. “My girls.” He murmurs into his wife's hairline.

“Dad, gross.” Jack exclaims, making Emily laugh loudly as she leant further into Aaron.

“Yeah, Aaron. Gross.” ______________________

Emily wakes up first for once. She quickly gets out of bed and presses a kiss to Aaron’s cheek as she sneaks out of their room. She smiles when she enters Amelia’s room to see the little girl already awake, standing in her crib and reaching out for her mother.

“Morning, sweet girl.” She lifts the baby up and into her arms, pressing a series of kisses into her dark hair as she takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. “Happy birthday.”

“Mama.” Amelia settles in Emily’s arms, seemingly content to have an early morning snuggle with her mother. Her hand tangles in Emily’s hair as she talks to herself.

Emily runs her hand gently up and down her daughters back, content to have some rare one on one time with her. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

She still remembers the fear she felt that morning, walking into the bathroom to have her waters break a month early. Amelia making a dramatic entrance into the world that ended up being almost a prophecy for the year they would have.

“Is this a girls-only gathering or can anyone join?”

Emily looks up to see her husband standing at the door of the nursery, smiling at the two of them together. “What do you think, Amelia?” She whispers to the baby, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “We can make an exception for Daddy, huh?”

“Dada!” Amelia squeals, making Emily roll her eyes good naturedly while she mutters something about favouritism under her breath.

Aaron walks into the room and sits on the arm of the chair, and he presses a kiss to the side of each of their heads. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” He says as he kisses Amelia again.

Emily rests her head against his side. “What time is everyone arriving?”

“Not until this afternoon.” He lifts Amelia into his arms as he reaches for her, and stands up to place her on his hip. “So we can have a nice easy morning.”

A crash from outside the room happens almost simultaneously. “Theo.” Jack’s voice shouts out afterwards, frustration laced through his tone.

Emily laughs. “Since when did easy mornings exist in this house?” ______________________

When the party winds down that evening, the birthday girl is exhausted. The celebrations lasted well past her bedtime, and she passed out in her mothers arms for the last hour of it. Emily shifts Amelia in her arms as she walks upstairs to put her to bed, letting Aaron say goodbye to the rest of their guests.

She quickly changes her daughter into her pajamas, expertly doing it without waking her, and she lays her in the crib before kissing her gently, whispering how much she loves her against her forehead. Emily grabs the baby monitor as she leaves the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Emily checks in on Theo to see he was already asleep, the excitement of the day having worn him out. She sits on the edge of his bed and tucks him in a little tighter and she makes sure Archie is secure in his arms. She kisses him and gets up to leave.

“Love you, Mommy.”

She smiles and kisses his cheek again. “Love you too, sweet boy.”

As she walks down the stairs she passes Jack, who was heading up to his bedroom.

“Don’t stay up too late, Jack.”

He doesn’t stop as he walks past her, clearly already running late for when he told his friends he’d be online. “I won't, I promise. Love you, Emily.”

“Love you too.”

She goes in search of her husband and spots that the front door is slightly ajar. She finds him sat on the porch swing, a blanket half around him and a glass of wine in each of his hands. Emily smiles as she joins him, curling up into his side in the cold February evening, pulling the blanket around them both as she takes a glass from him and settles her cheek on his shoulder.

“Today was nice.” She says softly, snuggling into his side.

“It was.” He replies, taking a sip of his wine. “I can’t believe she’s a year old. So much has happened since then.”

She hums, turning her face to press a kiss to his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Em.” He replies automatically.

She pulls back from him to look at him, her eyes searching for something he couldn’t quite place. “I know I say it a lot, but I really do love you. You know that right?” She whispers, the cold air she breathes out almost louder than the words themselves.

“Of course I do.” He frowns, pulls her impossibly closer, wrapping the blanket tighter around them both.

“I mean it Aaron,” she pulls away so she can look at him, cups his cheeks in her chilled hands. “I love you so much it’s almost ridiculous. I can feel it with every part of me. When we were apart…” Her voice falters like it always does when they talk about it, a wound still too fresh to not be painful even after the two months that had passed since they were reunited. “When we were apart I realised how much I need you. I had a glimpse of my life without you in it and I hated it.”

“Em.” He places his hands over hers on his cheeks, brings them down to his lap and tries to seep some warmth into them. “What’s brought all this on?”

She sniffs. “I don’t really know. I just keep thinking that this time last year Amelia was born, and it was scary as hell. And we had no idea what was coming. That Foyet would attack you in our home, that he’d try to kill our kids. Now everything is great again.” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “And despite the new house and everything I still feel like I’m waiting for the next thing to go wrong.”

“Em, sweetheart.” He stops her, leans her forehead on hers. “I can’t tell you nothing awful will happen to us again, that we’ve had our share. Because if that’s how it worked we’d have hit our limit with what happened with Haley.”

She nods against him, closes her eyes to stop more tears from falling. “I know.”

“What I can tell you is that whatever happens, whatever tomorrow, or a week or a year from now brings, we can face it together. Okay?”

She pulls back, looks at him with tears in her eyes and sees just how sure he looks. How resolute he is in what he is saying, and she believes him. “Okay.”

He kisses her, like he has a thousand times before, and pulls her into a hug. “I love you so much, Emily. More than I did yesterday, less than I will tomorrow.”

She snorts out a laugh before muffling it into his shoulder, aware all the kids were in the house asleep. “That was so fucking corny.” She presses her forehead into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” ______________________

I don't care what tomorrow brings, as long as I have you. - Molly Harper

#hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #au fanfiction #CM fan fiction #ITSWM #WTB Universe #i'm going to go cry now #cannot believe it's done

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

---------‐-----------------------------------

“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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peach-jaehyunie · 5 years

Text

The All Of Me

Pairing: Qian Kun x female reader

Genre: Uni AU, Study-Buddies, Friends to lovers, one-shot

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Rating: 18+

Words: 1.9k

Half of the toes on your left foot were asleep from sitting on them for the last two hours. Your textbook forgotten on the couch, buried under a cushion and the blanket on your lap. Kun’s head was still diligently bent over a notebook, it’s pages stained with the swirl of his neat handwriting. He typed something on his laptop. You watched him as he finished his assignment, listening to the November rain pelt against the windows. You heard footsteps from upstairs; one of his roommates getting ready for bed. You didn’t want to have to walk back to your apartment, you were warm and cozy here.

“Are you almost done?” You ask Kun.

“Yes,” he looks at you “You don’t have to stay if you’re finished studying.”

His eyes return to his lecture notes. You purse your lips, annoyed because you don’t want to leave and because you want him to finish his paper so he can focus on you. You occupy yourself by checking your phone and finishing your tea. You have to try, you have to express how you feel about him in some way. If you leave now you may be waiting months before the perfect opportunity arises again. To get Kun alone for studying was a feat within itself.

Finally, he was hitting ‘save’ on his laptop and closing it, and then putting his notebook away.

“All done, how do you think it turned out?” You say lightly.

“I think it turned out well, now I’m really sleepy.” Kun laid his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

Not very sensual. How could you change this conversation to a sexy conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him peeking at you.

“Do you wanna sleepover, we could watch a movie?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice!” You reply, cutely snuggling into the couch cushions.

Kun manages to stay awake during the short anime film you watch. He shares the blanket with you, his knee resting against yours the entire time. He stretches during the end credits but makes no move to get up from the couch. A preview for a new show pops up and plays, neither of you moving when that too ends. The living room is silent, save for the patter of rain.

“Oh, Shakespeare’s Complete Works!” You exclaim, getting up to walk over to a shelf filled mostly with games and character figurines. A few books rest on the top shelf, they look mostly unused.

“Yep,” Kun comments awkwardly as he watches you remove the book from the shelf. “Do you really like Shakespeare?”

You trot back to the couch, sitting comfortably next to him; almost against him.

“Well, I really enjoy Much Ado About Nothing, but there’s this one line from Hamlet that is my favourite.” You tell him excitedly.

Kun looks at you, amused but encouraging, as you open the stiff pages, searching for a scene. Your body trembles: from nerves and anticipation.

“Ah, here it is,” you announced with a giggle, Kun’s head brushing against yours as he looked to where your finger pointed to on the page.

“That’s a fair thought to lie between maids legs.” You read aloud, your voice playful but your spirit hopeful that finally, you may have gotten your point across.

If this didn’t work, intimating how you might want a man’s head between your legs; you didn’t know what would. For months you had been trying slip any hints in there.

“Bill, you absolute dog,” Kun said with a grin, his breath on your cheek.

You closed the heavy book, looking up and into his eyes. You sat up straighter, smiling at him as you shifted your body more towards his.

“What?” You asked, searching his face as he stared at you.

The wind picked up and the rain beat harder against the windows. Kun’s eyes flickered from your own to your mouth back up to yours, his weight pressing into you more firmly. Your smile faded as Kun took a deep breath and looked away. Your heart swelled, your hands trembled; so close. Your eyes pretended to study the blanket on your lap, but his quick head snap caused you to look up again as his parted lips crashed into your own.

The kiss was firm and unsure, as were the emotions that flooded within you. When you both realized that neither of you was rejecting the kiss your lips softened. Kisses were slow and tentative—a mere brush of lips. His hand moved to the back of your head and you leaned closer into him, eventually shifting to straddle his lap. Despite your desires, you felt almost dizzy with shock. These were Kun’s hands on your hips, squeezing and running his hands over your clothes; it was Kun’s tongue you felt against your lips. Slowly you rolled your hips against his, the friction caused your breath to hitch as your lips parted from his and kissed up your neck. Kun’s hands found their way under your shirt, his fingers pulling against your skin. Your teeth knocked against his when your lips rejoined, and another roll of your hips made your body warm with pleasure. For a second one of his hands fumbled as he tried to get it under your hoodie. You pulled away from him, a single strand of saliva pulling between each other’s lips as you remove your top in one fluid motion. His eyes were still gazing at your body when you kissed him again, his warm hands exploring your skin was enough to make you melt. You guided his hands to your chest, moaning as he kneaded your breasts. Kun groaned at your slow and deliberate hip rolls against his centre. You could feel him growing beneath you.

“Do you wanna—“ he kissed you as he spoke “—go to my room?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your lips smiling against his.

To your surprise, he placed his arms under your bottom and carried you the 10 feet to his bedroom door. Your legs wrapped around his waist proved to be almost too wide to pass through the narrow entryway, as your knees scrape against the doorframe. Kun sets you on your feet, cupping your face as he kisses you, your hands cling to his shirt. He pulls away from you, letting his hands drop to caress your body as he smirks at you before backing you onto his bed. Kun climbs into bed after you, gently pushing you down against the mattress as he settles his weight on top of you. His mouth begins to explore your upper body, licking and sucking on your exposed skin. His deft fingers play with the band of your Calvin Klein sports bra, his eyes seeking yours for permission: you eagerly nod your head. Kun pushes up your bra, exposing your hardened nipples as he takes one in his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brushes your nipples with the pads of his fingertips and sucks and nips at them with his mouth. Every nibble causing a wave of heat to build in your core. Your jeans stifle you, and as Kun turns his attention to your lips again you squeeze a hand in between the two of you, brushing against his erection, as you unbutton your pants. His hands do nothing more than softly help you remove them. The removal of your pants reveals a matching pair of Calvin Klein underwear: no mere coincidence. Kun kisses down your body once again, his hands caress your thighs as he kisses down to your waistband and leaves bite marks on your hips. He kisses your thighs as his hands knead your ass. You can feel your arousal pooling between your swollen nether lips, but Kun never touches where you desire him most. Where you have desired him since the first time you met him first semester of freshman year. You close your eyes, relishing the feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin. You feel his breath against your inner thigh near your core, and you open your eyes to find him looking up at you, his expression begging you let him pleasure you. You nodded your head again, brushing his face with your hand as he slipped his fingers under your panties and pulled them to the side.

You hid the moan badly as your head rolls back against his pillows when he licks up your slit. His tongue swirls and presses your clit, you fall apart at his touch. No amount of fantasies about him could compare to the real thing. Gasps fell freely from your mouth, you knew you should be quiet given that his roommate’s bedroom was right above. A moan slips out unwittingly from your mouth as he fucks you gently with his tongue. Your fingers grasp Kun’s hair and your hips press your core to his mouth. His hand finds your mouth to try and muffle your sounds; your breath hot against his palm. You don’t want to delay this any longer, you have waited long enough for this. You push his hand off your face:

“Kun, I want you—for real now.”

His mouth left clit, and when he kissed you again you could taste yourself on him.

“You’re sure?” He asked quietly against your skin.

“Very sure,” you replied, playing with the hem of his shirt.

Kun sat up to take his shirt off, and you sat up to help him undress. His toned body presses against yours as he brings your face to his to kiss you. His cock presses between both of you, hard against your bellies. You lay against the pillows again, Kun kneeling between your legs as he reaches over you to get a prophylactic from his night table. He kisses you as his member slides easily into you from his earlier attentions. He fucks you slow and deep, his hands pressing your thighs down into the mattress. Your mouth falls open as quiet gasps leave it, your fingers pressing marks into his back. With every thrust his chest rubs against your nipples, Kun’s breath is hot in your ear as he tries to contain his moans.

“Faster—“ you gasp into the hot room air.

Kun’s hips snap against yours, fucking you almost hard enough for you to bang your head on the headboard. His cock brushing against your G-spot as he reangles your hips. With every thrust now you can feel your climax building, and the quiet gasps turn into unrestrained moans. Kun moans your name against your sweaty skin as he props himself enough with one hand to fuck you even faster as you both near your climaxes. Your orgasm builds to its peak; your pussy squeezing his member as every new tremor ran through your body. Your moans are replaced by gasps for air as Kun thrusts the last few times, making his pleasure heard. Kun’s weight settles on you for a few moments before he gets up, returning shortly a damp warm cloth to clean your arousal from between your thighs.

It’s late and sleep begins to settle in your eyes. If Kun’s roommates slept through that, it would be a miracle. Kun tucks you into his bed before bringing in your belongings from the couch. He slips under the covers with you, holding you against him.

“You knew what you were doing when you took Shakespeare off the shelf, didn’t you?” He scolded with a gentle squeeze.

“Maybe,” you replied with a smile before drifting off to sleep.

#ncitynetwork #cznnet #qian kun scenarios #qian kun smut #kun wayv #qian kun #kun nct #wayv smut #wayv scenarios #wayv drabbles #nct scenarios

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bngtanah · 4 years

Text

I’m (not) With The Band. | o5

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

pairing: idol!Yoongi x Named OC

word count: 7k genre: drama, romance, smut(eventually)

chapters: prologue| o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11|

warning: light angst, smut, fluff, workplace relationship, slow burn, sexual themes, ambw, enemies to friends to lovers, developing relationship

a/n: still a fool. still re-uploading.

"No, I've got today off, technically. My partner and his band mates have a super packed schedule today and I can't finish the two songs we have without him so I'm just working on stuff at home, personal things."

"You're going to stay at home all day? Why not explore, make some friends?"

The fatigue in Danielle's voice was clear and Adrienne felt guilty for keeping her sister up so late but it was barely mid-morning where she was and they hardly had any time to catch up with one another since Adrienne and the rest of the team had worked even harder in an attempt to finish the album ahead of schedule. They had months until it was due to be completed and Adrienne didn't really see the point in grinding so hard so early but Yoongi didn't seem to share that sentiment since whenever Adrienne brought it up he repeated that he would rather have everything done as early as possible than lag behind. It was annoying but Andy couldn't bother to argue in favour of laziness.

"I have friends, the boys are my friends and they're all busy today," Andy chuckled and slid down further into the corner of the couch she was currently wedged into.

"Find friends that aren't busy 362 days of the year," Danielle countered with a small yawn.

Adrienne snickered and silently rolled her eyes, just imagining the judgmental look Danielle must have been giving her. "Yeah, I'll get right on that," She replied with heavy sarcasm, earning a small annoyed groan from the older woman.

"You little brat."

Adrienne giggled.

"If you won't go make new friends, at least, tell me about the boy band. Are they as corny as I think they are?"

"They are actually not corny at all..." Adrienne paused as the image of Jungkook and Hoseok improvising a dance that would put her interpretive stretching to shame during their practice the night before came to mind "They're not as corny as you think they are.... most of the time."

"Mhm, so they're corny as hell. Is your partner still being a dick?"

"Yes... and no? I've been watching him and he pretty much treats everyone the same way, snippy and kinda rude but I don't think he's truly a dick. I think he's one of those people that wants everyone to think their an ass but he's actually kind of sweet and caring, generous-"

"Is he cute?"

"I-What?" Adrienne sputtered and sat up straight.

Danielle cackled as softly as she could and rested a hand against her rounded stomach, "Girl I know you heard me. Is he cute?"

"I don't know..... I haven't really paid attention to that." Adrienne threaded her fingertips through her braids and scratched her scalp in thought "I guess he's not ugly, I'll send you a picture you can judge." Andy pulled her cell phone away from her ear and swiped her fingers across the surface to send a picture she'd taken a few days earlier.

"He looks pissed."

She heard Danielle commenting as she pressed the receiver back to her ear.

"Yeah... I had to force him to take it with me, I don't know how to make him smile yet."

"Why do you still have those braids in your head?"

Adrienne groaned, "Listen, you can only judge one person at a time me or Yoongi,"

"Is that is his name?"

Adrienne grunted a yes and aimlessly bit down on her fingernails, suddenly finding her sister approval very necessary.

"It doesn't really matter if I think he's cute, do you?"

"It doesn't matter if I do either! We work together." Adrienne groaned and threw herself back against the cushions.

"Right, because being attracted to someone you work with is something Adrienne would never do."

The sarcasm was noted but ignored for Danielle's sake.

"It is. Besides, you know I'm more attracted to talent and shit than appearance."

"And....?"

"Annnd. I think Yoongi is..... very talented." Andy replied with an immediate smile that spread into an even wider grin when Danielle began laughing at her response.

"Not to totally change the subject or anything but how is my niece?"

"Your niece OR nephew has released the stranglehold on my bladder to rest for a few hours before waking me up at the ass crack of dawn to begin the terror again, I should be in a deep sleep right now."

"Shit, what time is there?"

"A little after 1."

"Seriously? Go to bed Dani."

"No, it's fine we can talk. Lloyd is asleep and I'm in the living room being sneaky."

"Danielle please take your pregnant ass to bed, I'm about to start working anyway so I can't talk anymore."

"... Are you sure?"

"Positive. Good night!"

"Love ya, little one. Wait, one last question, you're still flying in the week of my due date right? Lloyd and I just finished up the guest room."

"Love you too, and of course I'll be there my niece won't be born without me there to welcome her into the world."

Danielle chuckled before bidding her younger sister goodnight one last time and hanging up.

Adrienne pouted once the call was disconnected and tossed her phone onto the coffee table. She missed her sister more than she realised and each time they got the chance to talk it only made Andy feel more discouraged; instead of finding comfort in her older sister's voice she only focused on the fact that she was still so far away from everything she knew and even though her daily life was becoming easier for her to manage alone Andy still had to come home to an empty apartment and leave voice mails for her only family member to return half a day later. It was mildly depressing.

Huffing a brief sigh, Adrienne forced herself upwards and off the couch; she had no plans of letting her momentary gloom take over the rest of her day. Her arms stretched for the ceiling as Andy began searching for her laptop so she could begin tinkering with the few songs she planned on keeping for herself. A faint smile dusted her lips when she found the machine and Yoongi's voice played in her head; repeating his judgmental question about why she had so many stickers on her laptop. Her sister's question had honestly taken her aback, not because she didn't find Yoongi cute but because she wasn't sure if that was the right adjective to describe him with. Puppies and kittens were cute, but Min Yoongi was something Andy just didn't know how to define yet.

Almost like clockwork, just as the laptop booted up and Adrienne felt comfortable with her legs crossed in the couch, there was a series of frantic knocks against Adrienne's front door and she cursed under her breath as she unfolded her legs and got up to stomp towards the door. Her lips were twisted into a scowl while she unlocked the door and pulled it open but the person on the other side made her eyebrow knit closely together with uncertainty rather than anger.

"Yoongi-ssi?"

Yoongi was out of breath with his hand gripping the door frame to catch himself, dressed in a disheveled sweater and a pair of ripped jeans Adrienne had seen him in far too many times and a pair of sneakers that seemed to give him an extra inch of height. Andy smiled brightly as she always did when they met but her eyes still gave away just how confused she was to see him at her door.

"Is everything okay Y-"

"I can't wait anymore Andy, I need you." Yoongi emitted in a hurried reply and Adrienne's eyes went wide with shock, her heart unexpectedly beat faster and the tips of her ears burn with warmth. There was something in the way he gasped her name while still attempting to catch his breath and the look of purpose in his eyes when he stopped looking at the ground and caught her gaze that was inexplicably attractive. Adrienne would deny it if questioned but an instant flush of heat rushed both to her cheeks and between her legs when she returned his eye contact.

"Need me... What?"

"I need you to come with me," Yoongi repeated, this time completing his sentence and giving Andy the chance to breathe a sigh of relief "I don't have time to explain everything but the release date moved up and we now have a month less to finish."

The brief statement brought Adrienne's priorities back to the forefront and her arms and jaw dropped when he was done.

"What?! How do they expect us to finish everything an entire month early, this is bullshit!"

"Yeah, I know. Can you complain on the way to the car? Everyone's waiting."

"Oh... Maybe you can say that first next time? Just give me a second to get dressed," Adrienne replied quickly as she spun around and closed the door in Yoongi's face.

It only took her a few minutes to dress and collect what tools she could carry along with her but for Yoongi, it might as well have been an hour. His foot tapped against the ground impatiently as he glanced down at his watch with every passing second, then ran to the entrance of the alleyway to silence the honking before returning to Adrienne's door just as she was walking out with her laptop and backpack in tow.

"Does it always take you this long to get dressed?"

"It was three minutes Yoongi, you can't show up at my apartment unannounced and expect me to run around on your schedule" Adrienne answered as she locked her front door and began following Yoongi towards the van where she could see the rest of the boys waiting to pull off.

"It wasn't unannounced, I called you five times, but you didn't answer."

Andy perked up to argue but instead pulled her mobile phone from her back pocket and bit down on her bottom lip when she saw that there were multiple missed calls from his number and a few text messages.

"Sorry, I was on a call and it was on silent," She said with a sheepish grin while she shoved the device back into her pocket and fought with pushing her laptop into her backpack.

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and gestured for her to hand him the bag and laptop so she could walk faster.

"Learn how you answer your cell phone, this could have been a disaster," He chastised as he swung the strap over his shoulder.

"Of course, Leader-nim,"

"Don't call me that, you know I don-"

Adrienne cut off Yoongi's whining once they reached the open door of the van by greeting everyone in her cheery fashion and taking the first empty seat available, followed by Yoongi who took the seat next to her and pushed her rucksack back towards her once the van pulled forward. Despite their smiling faces when the rest of the boys greeted her, Adrienne could tell that their energy was waning; it was only the middle of the day but she was sure they had already completed a full day's work, with hours of grinding left to go. Andy was already tired just thinking about what they had left to do.

"So where are we headed now?" Adrienne asked, pulling her backpack close to her chest.

"Video and photo shoot, it's probably going to take the rest of the day," Namjoon replied from his seat up front "They're usually really boring but it might not be so bad with you around" He continued and turned around to smile gently in Adrienne's direction. Andy mirrored his grin and opened her mouth to reply before she heard Yoongi's clearing his throat to get her attention.

"We don't really have time for this, I came for you so we could finish working not catch up with everyone," Yoongi said listlessly once Adrienne was looking at him and she nodded without answering. She knew that if she had answered her words would not have been docile so Adrienne found it best just to let him simmer in his attitude if he wanted to do that. Yoongi shot a Namjoon a brief look as Adrienne leaned forward to pull out her laptop and Namjoon took the hint to turn around, for now, he had plenty of chances to talk to Andy for the rest of the day and he knew that Yoongi was always a little testy about his music, it was better for everyone to not disturb him.

Yoongi however, wasn't worried about finishing their work on time at all. He did want everything to be finished as quickly as possible but his desire to stop his friend from getting any closer to Adrienne was much, much larger. They had a rapport that was too easy for Yoongi to fight against without revealing his 'innocent' crush or making it seem like he didn't like Adrienne which couldn't be further from the truth. It was childish and immature of him to basically call ‘dibs’ on her just because he saw her first but.... he had seen her first and just because he didn't want to risk his career by allowing himself to give into his temptations didn't mean that anyone else got to do so.

All of this went unnoticed by Adrienne who was trying to pull her laptop out of a bag she'd only just realised was way too small for it. Once she was done fighting with it, she exhaled and flipped the monitor upwards to allow it to boot up.

"Before you whine, I rearranged the hook on track 2," She said to Yoongi who immediately scrunched up his features and groaned but Andy held up a hand and continued speaking. "No whining! It sounds a lot better now, trust me."

"We spent two hours on that hook last night."

"I know, and it still didn't sound good, so I changed it. Just listen" Adrienne sighed and placed her headphones over Yoongi's ears then tapped the space bar on her keyboard. Yoongi's head nodded along to beat in silence, which Andy took as a pleasant sign since she knew he would be quick to complain if she had made the song worse.

"It's good," Yoongi replied simply as he handed Adrienne back the headphones.

"I know it is. You should trust me sometimes Yoongi, I know what I'm doing."

Yoongi shrugged and pretend to be nonplussed but Adrienne's lips spread into an arrogant lopsided smile that Yoongi hated to find so adorable. Headphones went over both of their heads and the two of them spent the rest of the ride reaching over one another to replay or 'fix' a certain part, silently arguing for the entire hour it took for them to reach the destination. By the time the van had rolled to a stop and everyone inside exited slowly, Adrienne and Yoongi had dissected every single second of their track and they still weren't any closer to being content with it. The squabble over whether to add the water droplet sound effect was being put on hold when Yoongi got out of the van and joined the rest of the boys rushing towards the venue where apparently everyone had already been waiting for them to show up. Adrienne recognised one of their managers as she trailed behind them, looking for a place to set up her laptop, but once he spotted the group approaching the neutral expression on his face soured.

"Where have you been?!" He exclaimed as he stormed towards them "Everyone here has been waiting for you to show up, do you know how much it cost for us to rent this space?"

Adrienne frowned, knowing that they were probably late because they had to come pick her up and then wait for her to get ready. She took a step forward and prepared to relay this information but a hand grabbing her wrist made her stop mid-step, Andy looked to her side and noticed Yoongi's quick head shake and the added pressure he put on her small wrist. She wasn't sure how he recognised that she was planning to say something or why he had stopped her but something about the way his eyes silently pleaded with her made her obey and remain silent. Instead, Namjoon took responsibility for them being late, stating a reason that used a few words Adrienne wasn't familiar with and he accompanied his apology with a deep 90-degree bow that all the boys mimicked. The manager huffed an exasperated sigh and pressed his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose.

"Just go get ready, enough time has been wasted already."

Before Adrienne got a chance to question Yoongi's action or ask Namjoon why he hadn't just told his manager the real reason for them being late, all seven of them spread out in different directions followed by the team of stylists and makeup artists in charge of dressing them for the shoot. That left Adrienne standing alone in the middle of the set looking lost and a little out of place, she quickly rectified that by searching for a familiar face from the BigHit staff or a table where she could set up her laptop and charge it; whichever came first. Eventually, she found both a table with a socket nearby and someone to talk to; a stylist named Hye-Ji that Adrienne became acquainted with during her first week of official work. Once she had everything set up and ready to go Andy asked Hye-ji where she could find the dressing rooms, which earned her a playfully suspicious look but the stylist pointed in the general direction adding a faint “Try not to get caught,” behind her as she moved away. Adrienne planned on asking her what she possibly thought she would be caught doing but she left that where it was; all she wanted to do was apologise to Namjoon for having him take the blame for something she did before he got too busy to talk.

There were three different dressing rooms in the area that Hye-ji had pointed out and Adrienne lucked out with the first one being occupied by Jimin and Hoseok who were already fully dressed since she'd just barged in and completely forgotten to knock. She apologized profusely even though they were too busy laughing to actually notice her apologizing or leaving. At the next door she definitely remembered to knock on and sighed in relief when she heard Namjoon's deep voice answer.

"Namjoon, it's me. Are you dressed?"

A second of silence passed before the door cracked open and Namjoon smiled, revealing his exceptionally deep dimples as he stepped outside completely dressed in winter gear in the middle of the summer for some reason.

"Something wrong?" He asked while closing the door behind him.

"No, I just wanted to apologise for earlier; you're manager chewing you guys out and everything. You didn't have to take the blame it was my fault you guys were late."

"We decided to come for you, so it wasn't really your fault and truthfully it doesn't really matter who's fault it actually was. I'm the leader which means I've gotta take responsibility regardless, so don't worry about it. We've made him angrier than that before." Namjoon garnished his reassurance with a smile that made Adrienne feel a bit better while she looked up at him.

"You're good a leader, Namjoon."

"Thanks" He replied before catching his manager's eye again, he should have been in the makeup chair already, "Uh, I've gotta go, you'll be around right?"

Adrienne nodded and waved as she watched the tall lanky boy run towards the makeup booth, quickly bowing to his manager again on his way. "Silly boy," Adrienne chuckled as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. She paused in front of the last dressing room since the door was still closed and she was fairly certain she knew who was still inside since she had already walked in on Jimin and Hoseok. Jin, Jungkook and Taehyung were already at the makeup booth. That left only Yoongi who apparently did not rush like the rest of them. After a second of debate, Adrienne knocked on the door and pressing an ear to the door.

"Yoongi-ssi?"

A grumbled string of words that vaguely sounded like 'come in' replied and Adrienne hesitated before opening the door and stepping inside. Then immediately regretting that decision once she was behind the closed door and less than a foot away from Yoongi who still was only half dressed. Andy's hand flew to cover her eyes before she squealed softly.

"I thought you said come in!" She asked, sounding slightly agitated.

"I did," Yoongi replied flatly.

"But you're not wearing a shirt,"

"So? Have you never seen a man shirtless before?" He asked and looked over towards Adrienne, slightly chuckling once he caught sight of her covering her face.

"Yes..." Andy said between her fingers as she separated them just slightly before dropping her hand entirely. He definitely was not the first man she'd seen without a shirt but Yoongi wasn't just some man, he was her coworker and somehow this felt... inappropriate. Was it inappropriate? Or was Adrienne just working herself up for no reason, there didn't have to be any reason for it to be improper if she wasn't attracted to him. That fact was becoming harder to deny as she shamelessly allowed her eyes roam over his exposed skin; he wasn't particularly muscular or defined but Adrienne just could bring herself to look away. That is until he moved forward and Adrienne remembered that he could see her ogling him though judging by the look on his face he didn't seem to care that much.

"Is there a reason you're here?"

"Yes! I wanted to apologise for being late, I didn't know how tight your schedule was,"

"Okay," Yoongi answered and took another step forward. There wasn't much space in the room as it was and the more he moved forward the harder it became for Adrienne to focus on what she wanted to say, she hadn't noticed his cologne before in the van but now with his bare skin being so close to her body Andy could easily inhale the scent and it was partially clouding her thoughts.

Why was he so close to her, anyway?

"Is that all?" Yoongi asked while reaching forward to grab the shirt that was hanging on a hook above Adrienne's head.

She turned her head and quietly muttered the word 'oh' underneath her breath "Um, no I also wanted to ask you why stopped me earlier, it wasn't fair for Namjoon to take all the heat. I just wanted to set the record straight,"

Yoongi chuckled softly, well something between a scoff and a chuckle, as he pulled the shirt over his head and moved towards the seat on the other side of the room to put his shoes on.

"Namjoon is the leader, they would have made it his fault anyway, so taking the blame wouldn't have helped anything because Namjoon would just be asked why he couldn't keep better control of his team by making sure that everyone was ready on time." Yoongi tied his laces and Andy nodded softly "Besides, if I can be completely honest, he probably wouldn't have listened to you. You're new and some of the staff still don't even know your name so you stepping to the front would just have been seen as arrogant instead of helpful."

Yoongi stood up once his shoes were tied and moved towards the door again where Adrienne was still trying to make sense of his words. In some roundabout way, it sounded like he was trying to protect her but that train of thought opened an entirely new world of possibilities that Adrienne didn't want to explore.

"That's it right?"

Yoongi's question made Adrienne look up, and she startled herself when his face was just a few inches away from her own, well the lower half of his face anyway, the gentle half smile on his lips made Adrienne forget that he was trying to get out of the room and not flirting with her.

"Yeah.... that's all I had to say."

"Then can you move out of the way?"

Adrienne looked down at his hand on the door and her body pressed against it then quickly shuffled out of the way, muttering a soft "Sorry" as Yoongi exited the room and left her behind groan and mentally kick herself for coming in here in the first place. If anyone saw her there was no way they wouldn't get the wrong idea about her innocent intentions.

Adrienne may have been fretting about being misunderstood but on the other side of the door Yoongi was smug with pleasure, on the inside. He was still planning to keep his distance with Andy but there was nothing he could do about her coming to him. Sure, he didn't have to tell her to come in when he knew he wasn't fully dressed and there definitely was no reason for him to get so close to her when she could have easily just handed him the shirt but Yoongi enjoyed the way she reacted to him. It bolstered his ego and since there was no way he could outright flirt with her like Namjoon seemed so comfortable doing so he would have to settle for moments like this. They were good enough to sate his interest for now. The sound of one of the makeup artists calling for him to take a seat made Yoongi shuffle at a quicker pace but he was still trailing behind the rest of the group who were already done getting ready.

"You're moving so slowly today, hyung" Hoseok commented from the makeup chair next to his where he was waiting to be called for his solo shoot.

“I don't think I'm moving any slower than usual” Yoongi answered while the makeup artist dusted a powdery substance over his cheeks, he restrained himself from visibly grimacing. Makeup was always his least favorite part of this process.

Hoseok smirked and shook his head, swiveling the chair to face Yoongi's profile, “No you're definitely lagging, but the question is why?”

Yoongi didn't respond or even look to the side as Hoseok continued to goad him, he would not play along with whatever he was doing to ease his boredom.

"You can't be that tired since when you are you're usually the first one ready so you can nap while the rest of us are getting ready..."

Yoongi remained stoic and Hoseok's scrutinising gaze became more pointed. "It's probably not your music either because you seem to trust Andy-noona with making decisions and you look.... happy not tired."

Yoongi sighed tossed his head back which made the makeup artist gasp and scold him for moving but Hoseok smiled like he was on the verge of discovering a prize and kept on pestering.

"Which makes me wonder why she was looking for you earlier, she came to me and Jimin's dressing room thinking it was yours."

Yoongi tensed just slightly but still refused to engage.

"I think she was looking for Namjoon too but I saw him come out of his dressing room and talk to her, I did not see you—"

"Hoseok."

Yoongi's one word made Hoseok stop mid-sentence and press a hand to his lips when Yoongi turned to face him (against the makeup artist's wishes again) he didn't glare or scowl at the younger male but the look on his face expressed how little he that he felt like playing games at that moment.

"Do you have something meaningful to say or do you just want to continue rambling bullshit and annoying me?"

His words might have been threatening to anyone else but Hoseok just took that as confirmation that he was hiding something he didn't want anyone to know. "I'll leave you alone as soon as you tell me what the deal is with you and Andy." Hoseok grinned.

"There isn't one, bye."

"You don't expect me to believe that why was she in—"

"She came to apologise," Yoongi hissed in an annoyed whisper once the makeup artist cleared him to get up and leave, Hoseok trailed after him as he moved away from the makeup booth. "She wanted to say sorry for being late, there's no big secret."

"Oh. Well, why didn't she apologise to us? We got yelled at too!"

"I don't know maybe she doesn't like you." Yoongi shrugged.

Hoseok frowned and stopped walking for a few seconds "Hey... that's not funny we're friends. And that doesn't completely answer my question, her apologising wouldn't make you look happy..."

"You are so annoying, this is probably why she doesn't like you" Yoongi pointed out with a smug grin as he spun around to face Hoseok before walking off again.

"You're not funny hyung! Does she really not like me?" Hoseok called after Yoongi but he didn't answer.

It took three hours to get through the boys individual shots and another two to organise them for the group shots. Yoongi took every break he could to find Andy and continue their work but it was more than difficult for them to make any actual progress when he was pulled away to change his outfit or retouch his hair and makeup every five minutes. Adrienne didn't really mind, though. She enjoyed being able to admire the boys working and as far she was concerned they were done with both tracks. Whether she intended to or not she focused on Yoongi for most of the day, watching the way his expression changed when he was in front of the camera, even the way his body moved was different. He seemed to transform into a completely different person with each click of the camera shutter; he was confident masculine and actually sexy at certain points and Adrienne found herself hard pressed to look away even after being caught staring by both Yoongi and Hye-ji multiple times.

They completed the group photo-shoot in record time; two and half hours, and the crew immediately began setting up for the video shooting which really just meant getting rid of the backdrop and guiding the extras to their marks. That simple task presented a problem when apparently there weren't enough extras hired to fill in the gaps of the background, leaving spaces to be filled by whichever staff members were dressed nicely enough. Unfortunately for her, Adrienne never left her house unless she looked her best which meant she was one of the first plucked up from her seat and guided the video set. Despite her arguing that she didn't need to be there and that she would even cause a distraction, the director ignored her reasoning and countered that she would barely be seen in the back where they placed her, they only needed to fill a space.

The title track that Adrienne knew the boys would promote once the album was finished began playing and Andy followed along with the crowd and swayed back and forth to the beat. They were supposed to look like they were at a party so Adrienne did her best to follow direction but remain inconspicuous, a plan that failed once she saw Yoongi awkwardly shuffling in her direction and a few suspicious eyes turned to look at her.

"Is that how you dance?" She taunted once he was close enough, and he nodded and kept shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Sorry," Yoongi leaned over to say after a few seconds had passed.

"For what?"

"I think I made you uncomfortable earlier, that wasn't my intention."

Adrienne nodded and smiled, biting down on her bottom lip out of habit, "Thank you, but that's not necessary I wasn't uncomfortable just... surprised."

She smiled at him so keenly and Yoongi found himself so entranced by her expression that he almost missed his cue to join the group dance, something that may not have been picked up by anyone else but it definitely did not go unnoticed by choreography leader Jung Hoseok. It took another 10 identical takes for the director to be satisfied with what he captured and Adrienne silently praised the heavens when they could finally leave. Everyone was back into the clothes they arrived in and ready to leave within in minutes, save for Adrienne who had been waiting by the van since they left to get undressed. It felt like it took twice as long to drive back to the studio than before and once they arrived the look on everyone's face read that they would rather be anywhere else than here. But, the boys had to practice and Adrienne and Yoongi had songs to produce.

A loud and guttural moan left Adrienne's lips once she was walking through the doorframe of the Bangtan room and throwing her body onto the couch. Followed by Yoongi who was quiet as he settled down into the office chair in front of the console.

"I don't know how you do this every day," Adrienne commented with her face still smothered in the couch.

"You become numb to it after a while... complaining doesn't help so why bother?"

Andy rolled her eyes and sat up to make faces at the back of his head, tossing her backpack on the seat next to her. Yoongi was already opening programs on the computer and could see her in the reflection of the glass monitor but ignored her until she stopped pulling faces and ended up just staring like she had been for most of the day.

"What's wrong with you?" Yoongi commented with his head still turned away from Andy.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been staring at me all day."

"No, I have-" Adrienne began to lie but him turning around to glare gave her pause, "I didn't think you would notice."

"You didn't think I'd notice your big brown eyes looking at me all day?"

She smirked slightly at his choice of words but shook her head from side to side.

"No? I was just trying to figure something out."

"Figure what out?"

"My sister asked me if you were cute and I didn't have an answer for her so today I was trying to figure it out."

"Hm." Yoongi replied and turned back around as if that answer was completely reasonable. "Did you come to a conclusion?"

"About you being cute? I don't know.... I mean Jungkook is cute, Jimin is cute but you aren’t really like them."

"Thank you" He replied, making Adrienne laugh.

"The results of my study today were inconclusive but if I ever figure it out, you'll be the first to know. I did figure out something else today."

"What?"

"You're short."

"I'm taller than you!"

"I'm like 158 cm, Yoongi, are you really proud of that?"

Adrienne grinned and Yoongi did nothing to conceal the gum revealing grin that spread across his lips, "Whatever."

"I also just remembered I haven't asked my question of the day yet."

Yoongi made a grunting noise for her to go ahead but Adrienne was stuck.

"Erm, I haven't thought of one yet. You go first."

He exhaled but did as she asked anyway, "What is your favourite BTS song?"

"Seriously? Any question and you want to know that?"

"You don't have to answer."

"No, I do! Those are the rules, it's just a lame question," Andy snickered "Right now I have two; 'Just One Day' and 'Move', it's weird because your kind of the reason they're my favourites."

"What do you mean?"

"When I first started researching all your music, I didn't understand it so I just listened to whatever sounded good, but now I can understand most of what you guys are saying and your verses on Just One Day and Move are....... poetry. Like, the production and whatever are great but it's your words that really make the song what it is for me, you have this way of precisely capturing the subject of a song and putting it all in your verse. Especially Just One Day, when I read the lyrics for that I seriously had heart palpitations it's so good. I want someone to feel that way about spending the day with me."

Adrienne rounded off her explanation with a momentary burst of laughter and her hands pressed tightly to her heart but Yoongi was left slightly stunned. He always enjoyed being complimented for his work but no one had every really explained what they liked about his music quite the same way she just had. It seemed ridiculous to say but hearing her talk so deeply made his heart melt.

Yoongi's eyes softened as he turned to around to look at Adrienne, not because he wanted to cry but because her words genuinely moved him.

"I think I know what my question is n- are you alright?" Adrienne asked when she looked up and met his eye line.

"I'm fine," Yoongi answered quickly and rubbed a hand down the length of his face, "What do you want to know?"

"Look who's suddenly eager for my questions now that he's been complimented!" She teased "I want to know what your favourite part of making music is."

"Ah, that's easy. When it's done."

"That's such a boring answer, I gave you an analysis."

"I don't mean when I literally finish a song and hand it over, I mean when everything is done, and it's released to the public. There have always been so many people in my ear telling me that I shouldn't be doing this or that I should have pursued some other career so when I finish a song and release it and I can visibly see that so many people all over the world are enjoying something that I made... It gives me a reason to keep doing this and prove anyone that's ever doubted me wrong."

"Wow," Adrienne sighed and leaned back into the couch "So basically you want your entire career to be one giant 'fuck you' to the haters? Nice."

Yoongi nodded and swiveled around in his seat once again, allowing Adrienne to smile as wide as she wanted without feeling embarrassed by him watching her. He was opening up to her, slowly, but it was happening and that's all that mattered. It felt like they were genuinely becoming friends and that made Adrienne happy because that was all she wanted from the beginning. Of course, her definition of friendship didn't include wanted to see him shirtless again, but that was an issue she would deal with some other day.

"I think I’m going to go home now," Adrienne said behind a yawn as she stood to her feet.

"But we haven't rechecked the music."

"I trust you, and I think both of the songs are good enough to be sent in. If you want to change something, then you can I'm giving you the authority, try not to work too hard," She stated while she stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders with both her hands, then absentmindedly smoothed them down over his biceps before she could stop herself. The sudden contact and proximity made Yoongi shudder in a way that was not missed by Adrienne but neither of them brought any attention to that or the change in the air between them. Yoongi craned his head to look up at Andy over his shoulder and Adrienne's hands were still gently gripping his biceps when a knock on the door broke their momentary gaze.

Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung were stumbling inside, massaging their muscles and complaining about the recent additions to the choreography and Adrienne took the chance to slip out as quickly as she could after saying goodnight to all of them.

Yoongi hardly listened to what his younger members were saying because his mind was still focused on how good Adrienne's small hands felt against his skin. If nobody had walked in at that moment he was sure he would have kissed her and that just wasn't the kind of thing coworkers did. Although Yoongi honestly thought he had the self-control to keep himself from desiring anything other than a professional relationship with Adrienne, he was proving more and more every day that that may not be possible.

What scared him most of all was that he was beginning not to care.

#bts fic #bts scenarios #bts x woc #suga fic #suga smut #suga x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x oc #min suga #bngtanah #inwtb

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thefanficmistress · 5 years

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Because, I Love You: Requested ☆

Requested by @deepestfirefun - I love you soooooo damn much. My soul sister across the pond. Requested: You have broken up with your fiancé because you found out he was a total womanizer and it was quite the nasty break up too. You left your apartment, only took what you needed without looking back. Richard, your good friend heard about it while he was filming the Ocean´s 8 and without a second thought took you under his wings. You were an utter mess emotionally but spending time with Richard started to heal your wounded heart although you didn´t feel like trusting men ever again, except for Richard. He was furious to your ex-fiancé when he learned what had happened, he had been always very caring and protective of you. And while Richard did everything to make you feel better, you started to wonder if it had been Richard all along who you should have started a relationship with.

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing, Smut Pairing: Richard Armitage x Reader, Richard Armitage x Female Character, Richard Armitage x OC Context © me _______________ TAG LIST: @deepestfirefun @shikin83 @catthefearless @patanghill17 @aelinninielelain @xxbyimm @nowiloveandwilllove @nellindreams @hails270105 @armitages-gisborne @jassy2101 @abiwim @anemiechen @nelswp @vaneaustation @fizzyxcustard @purplerain85 @armitageadoration @princecami @princess-of-erebor1992 @leah-halliwell92 @vaneaustin @nelswp @nellindreams @raindrops-on-roses142 Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

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Current Requests: JANUARY - Closed @purplerain85 ( A Kiss in the Wild ) - RA Request : Release 1/6/2019 @deepestfirefun ( Because I love you ) - RA Request - Release date : 1/13/2019 @nowiloveandwilllove ( My Friend, My Beloved ) - RA Request - Release date: 1/20/2019 @deepestfirefun ( WORKING TITLE ) RA Request - Release Date :1/27/2019

Current Requests: FEBRUARY - OPEN

2/3/2019 - @purplerain85 ( WORKING TITLE ) - RA Request 2/10/2019 - @deepestfirefun ( WORKING TITLE ) - RA Request 2/17/2019 - Open 2/24/2019 - Open

Message me if you would like a FanFic Sunday Request. ________________ “What did you just say?” You questioned, almost dropping your phone in your lap. “Move in with me. At least until you get back on your feet.” He proposed. “I can’t ask you to do that. Not for me!” You exclaimed. “Yes you can! I’m offering. Happily, might I add.” Richard cooed on the other side of the phone, with a hint of a smile in his tone. Sitting in your car, with your hand on the steering wheel, you thumbed your thumb against the leather coating. You thought about his offer. He lived only a few minutes from your office, near central park, and the best thing was, he would be there. He was currently out of town but assured you that he would be back in a few days to continue filming Ocean’s 8 and he would make sure to take you out to get your mind off of things. After a break up, it’s best to be around family and friends. Richard was definitely a great friend to be around. He’s kind, and generous, a bit of goofball, but he always found a way to make things up to you or put a smile on your face. “I haven’t seen you in months, and I hate to tell you this, but I’m not taking no for an answer.” He added. “Richard, I honestly can’t do this. I need to be by myself.” “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m rather vexed at the entire matter, and if he shows up, I will have him thrown out or arrested.” His voice went very deep. A side of him you hadn’t heard before. Was that protection and anger in his voice? He wasn’t lying. Since you started dating Ethan, Richard and you had a hard time seeing each other. He was always out of town or too busy to actually spend proper time; he did however meet you for those 1-2 hr lunches before leaving or sent presents to you loft to apologize for not being able to make it. Also, to make matters worse, despite the fact that Richard was always so kind, and polite to your fiancée, Ethan didn’t like Richard. It showed in how possessive he was, not allowing Richard to be alone with you, be next to you, or even on the phone with you for a long period of time. Maybe Ethan could sense that under your guise as a friend, you did have feelings for Richard. You at one point convinced yourself that you were in love with him, and you needed to tell him. But with his schedule, you saw how difficult it was, and then realized it’s you. Richard wouldn’t be into you when he had many women around him. You had to back off in order to try to make the new relationship work. So, you put a lid on your feelings and said nothing. You were friends. Just friends. Ethan on the other hand… “Where are you right now?” He asked. “Siting in my car outside of The Hyatt.” You replied looking around at your surroundings. The Hyatt was a stunningly. Beautiful hotel in New York, and you were outside at the valet parking deciding on if you should go in or not. The streets were still busy for 3am, but it was The Big Apple, and this place never sleeps. It had rained earlier, and the streets glistened with the glow and flickering of the traffic lights. Restaurants and bars still open along the strip, and people gathered hand in hand walking and laughing. You wish you could laugh, but Ethan stole that from you months ago, and now you sit here alone, in your car in your flat shoes, and night gown. You had to pack a bag with enough clothes to last you a few days. Ethan was leaving for Hong Kong for work, and that would be the best time to get your belongings, and never see him again. “Please don’t sleep there, just go to my penthouse, we will figure out the rest.” He insisted. You knew that doing this, moving in with Richard, no matter how long you would be there, would piss Ethan off. And you honestly wanted to hurt him. Maybe not the same way he hurt you, but still hurt him nonetheless. “Are you sure about this?” “Very.” “Okay!” You conceded, “Thank you.” “Anything for you dove.” “Anything?” You sang sweetly, with hit of a smile on your face. “Absolutely anything.” He gushed over the phone. You pulled at a piece of thread on your nightgown, and blushed hard. Even from thousands of miles away, he knew how to make you swoon with just his voice and words. If he was in front of you and said that, it would have taken the force of an army to hold you back from kissing him. The way those words came out of his mouth stirred something inside of you that hadn’t been touched in months, but you could focus on that right now. You needed to get out of this car. “Head on over, I’ll call ahead, and make sure everything is taken care of.” “Thank you again, Richard.” “No need to thank me. I need you safe, and sound in our flat. I’ll see you in a few days, yeh?” He stated. “Yea ok. You said your goodbyes and headed over to his flat. After pulling into the Richards visitor spot under his flat building, you gather your things, and end upstairs to the 21st floor. Once you exit the elevator you are thrown off by the very large gift basket sitting in front of the door. You put your bag down and kneel to read the note left on top. *** To: The most beautiful woman in the world. From: The luckiest man in the world to have you in his life <3 Get some rest and enjoy the basket. You deserve it, and if I have to, I will send you more to keep a smile on your face until I get there. Yours always, Richard *** You smiled so hard, and pulled the note to your chest for a moment, as if you wanted to absorb the words into your very heart. You see another little baggy with the keycode to get into his flat, and you make your way in taking the bag and basket inside.

You flick on the light upon entering the foyer, a grand entertaining gallery opens into a living room and formal dining room with raised ceilings, accentuated by a dramatic glass skylight. You decided to look around the penthouse to get used to the surroundings. The room has been decorated to the highest standards with custom doors, wood-work cabinetry, and beveled glass to enhance the breathtaking views. A custom-carved stairway, wood-paneled elevator, beautifully-appointed powder room, and spacious closets are located just off the gallery. Adjacent to the formal dining room and located along Central Park is a tastefully designed eat-in kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances.

The 21st floor featured a luxurious master suite with a fireplace, terrace, and large sitting room. A magnificent master bathroom with bookmarked slabs of marble, two showers, two private water closets and two separate vanity sinks complete this space. The suite also included multiple fitted closets and a whimsical loggia with a wet bar along the terrace. Two additional south-facing bedrooms, two redesigned en-suite baths, an elegant study with terrace access and an automated Crestron system for lighting, shades and music. The 21st floor included a service entrance which you came in through seeing that Richard had the key to the main entrance elevator. “No wonder he doesn’t go out. He has everything he needs here.” You said to yourself, as you made your way back to the door to gather your things. You walked into the master bedroom and placed the basket on the bed. You finally opened the clear wrapping and started to pull out each item. Bath bombs, candles, wine, scented lotions, and oils. There was a silken pink night gown, with matching sleeping mask. Then a box of assorted chocolates, and your favorite box of perfume. A little while later, after a hot shower, and two glasses of wine, you climb into Richards bed, and cover yourself with the thick black blanket. Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up to see that Richard sent you a photo and text. he sent you a gif of his face smiling, and blowing you a kiss, then saying goodnight. You send him a text back saying goodnight and thanking him again before you placed it back on the nightstand. As you fell asleep your mind thought of pleasant things. Such as now being able to start your life over without Ethan. Perhaps with someone great. Someone like Richard. “Why am I not with you?” Was the last words that slipped from your lips before passing out. _____ See, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. You were supposed to find a guy, fall in love, get married, have children and live out your lives together. Old, holding hands and maybe, just maybe dying together in your sleep. But your life didn’t work out so luck that way. Time after time you had to fight for what you wanted, and when you thought you had it, life kicked you down again. Here you sat on the cold tile floor in the bathroom, in the dark holding your fiancés phone. The painful reality that he wasn’t who you thought. Your jaw clinched, the burning in your eyes began, and you turned the phone on. You had to know. You read every single one of the texts that he sent them. Every detail about what he wanted to do to them, and what he wanted them to do to him. How he couldn’t stop thinking of them, and how they were the only thing he ever wanted. He even said I love you to a few of them. They begged for him to dump you, and he said that he would, but he was waiting for the right time. He couldn’t even bother changing up his texts, they were the same lines, repeatedly. The same dick pics and fantasy. The only thing that seemed to change was the location to meet them for dinner, or the hotel room he would rent out for the day for his “Client Meetings” You turned the phone off and gripped your chest, right at your heart. You dug your nails into your skin until it hurt, but it would never compare to the pain you felt that spread through your body like a raging fire. It scorched every nerve in your body, and you began to shake. Your eyes burned and when you could hold on no longer you let out a scream that could have cracked glass, and you threw his phone against the wall. It shattered. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You bent forward, pressed your palms to the floor, you began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

You heard footsteps running up to the door.

“(y/n) are you ok? What was that noise?” A male voice said on the other side. “Just go away” you said, the words slipping from your lips so softly that only you could have heard it, but you secretly wish he did. You continued to cry, your fingers digging into the black cloth of the bathmat. You felt sick to your stomach. The ache in your heart was too much to bare. “(y/n) answer me!! What is going on? I am beginning to worry!” The voice said again, wiggling the door knob a few times. “Go the fuck away!” You managed to raise your head up and yelled. “Just leave, get out! I don’t want you here anymore!” You turned your body to the toilet now, lifting the lid, and prepared yourself for what was about to come up. “(y/n) What?! What are you talking about? “He yelled back, banging on the door. “Open up! What happened?” he pressed again, his voice very concerned and urgently searching for a reason why you would react this way. “I hate you.” You said softly into the toilet. You shook your head because you knew you had to throw up, and the rage that was building in your gut was making its way to your chest. The kind of rage that was instant and all you needed was the final push. The door knob started to shake violently, and then the door started to bang as if something was being pushed against it. With a loud BANG the door was forcefully opened, and Ethan came stumbling in, the wall across from the door catching him. He looked around the bathroom and saw his phone on the ground, and then looked up at you. “What is going on? It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, and you’re screaming.” He said as he bent down and picked up his phone examining the broken pieces. “I had work and clients on here, and you break it?” “Right! Work and clients “You quoted with your fingers. “I am sure your clients needed a picture of your fucking dick for their legal troubles. I guess you’re a full-service kind of lawyer. “you proclaimed, as you rose to your feet. You took a few steps closer to him. His face went completely white and he swallowed hard. His eyes shifted over to the right of you unable to look in your eyes and there it was. The shame or was it guilt. Either way he knew that this was it for him. “(Y/N)” He started, but you cut him off. “Who is Emily?” You shoved him back “Rhonda?” You shoved him again. “Dianna?” You asked pushing him one last time, this time harder and he was backed into the corner and could see his jaw tighten. “Oh, and my favorite, your fucking secretary Bridgette.” You smiled and shook your head. “I knew it. I knew it.” You stressed, your voice starting to shake with the buildup of anger, and more tears. “They mean nothing to me. Not like you. “Ethan said calmly to you. His eye contact making his words seem sincere. Was he telling the truth? Maybe, but it was too late. That trust had already been destroyed. “You’re a fucking liar.” You walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom you shared. You walked to the other side of the room to get away from him. It was too much. You always had a feeling that something was right about him, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You grabbed your bag from the closet, and started throwing clothes in them, cussing and yelling as you stuffed many items in it. You weren’t even sure what it all was, but the more that you put in that bag was the more you were close to getting out of there. Ethan tried to grab you to talk things out. Grabbing your arm, you pulled it away, he grabbed both of your wrists to calm you and to pull you into his chest, but you pushed him away repeatedly You took a shirt and hit him with it and he held his hands up grabbing the fabric in the air, twisting it around his hand and yanked you close to him. “Please calm down, we can talk about this.” He held you firmly to him, looking at you dead in your eyes, not even blinking. Was he terrified of losing you? Was he scared of what his life would be like without you? You fought more against his grip. “Would you stop! He yelled, “and fucking listen to me! They mean nothing to me! I want to marry you and be with you!” You looked closer into his eyes and saw that they were glazing over. Was he about to cry? Was he actually upset that he hurt you? For a brief moment, you settled down, and lowered your guard for a moment.

“I love you.” He said, releasing the grip on your wrist since he must have felt your nerves calm. “There is nothing to freak out about. My heart belongs to only you.” He said, leaning in closer to your face. “I want to kiss only you…” Ba-dum

The sound of your heart echoed in your ears as he spoke those words… “ I want to marry only you..”

Ba -dum But it wasn’t the words you wanted to hear. It was the wrong words. “I am going to marry you (Y/N).” he whispered right before his lips touched yours. Those were the wrong words…. “The hell you are!” You yelled as you pushed him back, but he still held one of your wrists. “What makes you think that I would even marry you?” You questioned as you finally yanked yourself free from his grasp. You turn and walk to the other side of the bed, snatching up your phone. Your fingers unlocked it and you started to search through it. You started muttering to yourself. “Great! I guess you’re going to call him now. Complain about me?” He gestured with his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Call who?” You questioned, going through your contacts. Richards name slowly scrolled down, and your thumb landed on his name, but Ethan had caught your attention and you looked up from the phone. “Who do you think? Richard for fuck sake. You can’t seem to just let him the fuck go can you!” Ethan said, yanking up a shirt from the side chair, and putting it on, followed by a pair of mint green pants. You always hated those pants. “He has nothing to do with this. You did this! “You proclaimed. Snatching up your keys and walking over to the night stand to grab a few more things, shoving them into the bag. “Whatever you need to tell yourself (y/n) You’re probably acting like this because you slept with him, and now you are turning a tiny indiscretion of mine into this mountain of guilt.” He gestured with is hands and body movement. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?! Are you trying to turn this around on me? You gestured pointing to yourself.

“I’m just stating the facts. You couldn’t have him, so you had to get me. You were too weak to tell him how you felt, and he didn’t care enough about you to notice you. Why would he want you? He’s famous now and can have any woman he wants and you —“ SMASH! The vase you threw at his head shattered near him. He guarded his face and moved aside and looked at you. “WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Have you lost your mind?” He yelled as he moved around the broken pieces by his feet to a clearer spot. Then you looked down to continue to pack, grabbing everything that could fit into this large duffle bag. After stuffing what you could in it, you make your way to the door. “I had to settle for a piece of shit like you.” You added onto his statement, your voice was so calm, still, but the tears filled your eyes and burned as you looked at him without blinking. “I had to lower my standards to a pathetic man child who had to feed on someone else’s insecurities to make himself feel better.” “(Y/n) wait, I didn’t mean…” he said starting to walk towards you but when he saw that you straightened your back and took a more dominate stance, he paused. “You meant every word. And I shouldn’t have said yes to marrying you when in my heart I really didn’t want to. But my family, and your family pressured me. Especially when…” You paused for a moment and looked around the room and then back at him. “When I knew I would never love you the way I love him.” Those words flew from your mouth so fast. You never thought that you would think it, let alone say it out loud. You knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they’d hit their mark. In that instant your relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again. “We’re over!” You completed as you walked out of the door. ______ The next day you remained in the protection of your dear friend penthouse. You closed the blinds, and the curtains. You brewed some coffee, with cream, and added some caramel into the mixture as you lazily walked back to his room. You hadn’t slept so well after dreaming about the fight you had with Ethan. It was so fresh in your heart and mind. You placed the mug on the night stand and crawled back into bed. Tucking yourself into the big red and white pillows and pulled the black duck down comforter over yourself. You leaned back against the pillowed backboard, reached for the remote, twitched on the TV and flipped through the channels until you landed on the TV show FRIENDS. Tossing the remote beside you, you tried to focus on the screen before you, but your phone went off again. You struggled with the decision to pick it up. Looking from the TV back to the phone, and then back to the TV again. Then back at the phone when it went off. You reached over and picked it up. You fingered through the unlock and brought up your phone log. 14 MISSED CALLS – Ethan Hawthorne Then you saw the notifications on your iMessages. You opened it. _______________________________ ETHAN {Please pick up the phone….. } ETHAN {We need to talk!!!} ETHAN {I’m not giving up on us! I don’t care how many times I have to call you or text you! } ETHAN {Why are you acting like this? Can we just please talk?! } ________________________________ You took a deep breath and hovered your finger over delete. For a moment you thought how freeing it would be to clear these, and never reply to him, but then again, what if you did reply. What if you told him to never call or message you again? Is saying nothing, really louder than saying anything at all? Without a second thought you deleted it. You closed your eyes, and put the phone on the nightstand, but before you could fully come to terms with what you just did, you heard a knock on the door. You were expecting anyone, but when you walked to the door, you looked through the hole, and saw a bouquet of flowers. You pulled back and took a step back from the door. Maybe you shouldn’t open it, maybe you should. Ethan was smart, sending you flowers so early. You bit your bottom lip, and then another knock came to the door. “Who is it?” You shouted. “I have a delivery for a Miss (Y/N).” the man said. “Can you leave it by the door?” You asked, walking closer to the door, and placed your hands on the wood. “I was instructed to hand it directly to her. You know….my job.” He replied. “Ok.” You sigh and open the door. As you open it, the bouquet was in full bloom in front of you. Bright red roses petals, with lush green stems. It was so large it covered the delivery guys face. “Do I need to sign for it or something?” you ask waiting with your arms crossed in front of you. “Not really, but if you would like to pay in the form of a hug. I wouldn’t object.” He said, as his American accent changed over to the floating melody of a British purr, and as the flowers came down, it revealed the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Richard stood before you with a big smile on his face. His eyes were sparkling, and his cheeks were flushed. He was so excited to see you. You weren’t sure what came over you when you lunged forward and flung your arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. He chuckled and leaned down to hug you back. He squeezed you and buried he face in your hair. You heard him take a deep breath, and you could have sworn you felt the thumping of his heart against your chest. It was racing. Or was it yours? At the moment you couldn’t tell, all you knew it he was here with you. You pulled back, but held onto his shirt, while he in return placed his hand on your cheek. You leaned into the warmth of his hand smiling. Your faith in men had left you, but you knew that Richard would heal it. Someone how. Starting by showing up earlier than he said, and now pulling this stun, in his own penthouse. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are here.” You stated excitedly. “But where are my manners, please come in.” you walked back over the threshold, and moved a side so that he could come in. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, and in my penthouse no less.” He chimed back. Richard walked into the kitchen and placed the vase of roses on the counter top. He turned to look at you and removed his black coat and tossed it on the back of the counter. He looked around the room and shook his head. “What?” “Why is it so dark in here?” “I didn’t want any daylight in here.” “Why? A little daylight would be good for you (Y/N).” he stated as he walked across the room and to the window, he tossed the curtains opened, and the living room was flooded with golden light. He could have pushed the button that does it for him, but he was always the kind of guy to do things himself. You blocked your eyes for a moment, and then put your hands down to see Richard standing before the window with a halo of light around his head. The light caught in his beard, and he turned to look at you with glowing blue eyes. He wore a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans. A trimmed beard, and his hair combed over to one side. He looked good. Gorgeous. “Is that why you’re here? To open my blinds? You turn to Richard and hold up a cup. “Want some?” He walked over to the counter and sat down on the stool. He leaned forward and closed his hands together.

“Are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to have to guess?” he sounded irritated, so his voice became a bit deeper. “Richard….” you sighed as you put the first mug into place on the Keurig, you put the K-Cup in the machine, and pulled the lever down, and hit BREW. You turned, and leaned back on the counter, with your hands on both sides of you along the counter top. “Don’t make me.” “What do you want me to say? He cheated. Cheated, a lot, and I was the dumb one who fell for his shit.” You said. The buzzer went off and you turned to remove the first cup, put another in its place, and a new K-Cup, and hit BREW again. You gently placed the cup in front of Richard, and reached over to hand him sugar, and creamer. “You’re not dumb, don’t say that. He cheated, yes, but that isn’t your fault.” Richard said has he put both hands on the sides of the cup. “Not my fault!?” You chuckle just saying those words. But you always thought that it was. Maybe it was in a way. You never really fully expressed yourself or showed that you were completely into the planning of your wedding, or him even. You were just there, going through the motions, while he was there, with other women. To be honest, he wasn’t the one you wanted. You lowered your head and started to cry. You heard the stool shift across the floor and in an instant Richards hands were on you, turning you. He crouched a bit to look at you, and tilted your head up to look at him, and when you did, he straightened himself. “Open your eyes.” he said softly. His hands cupped both sides of your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears from your face. “Look at me (Y/N).” he kindly stressed. So you did, and he was looking at you with such hope, and longing that it killed you. How can he be so calm at a time like this. How had you been so clam the past night? “I can’t do this anymore.” You weeped. “Do what?” “Love anyone again. How an I supposed to trust someone after this?” You asked, gripping his shirt. “It’s not going to be easy dove, but I’m here to show you that you can.” You looked up at him, and then to his lips. You always wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You lean in close to him, and place your forehead to his chin. He lowers his head to place a kiss on it. You didn’t want to bottle up your emotions. Sadness, obsessing, and full-blown crying fits was your way to deal with emotional upheaval, and pretending you were fine when you were not will have the same effect as a pressure cooker. So, you called out of work for the next few days, to let all your pent-up feelings loose, whether it was on your own with Celine Dion on full blast, with a box of tissues or with your best friend after two bottles of wine. And your best friend was here now, so here came the tears, and wine.

Sometime later, Richard gently rouses you from a deep slumber after you pasted out in his bed. Richard had to pick you up from the couch after the first bottle of wine. You drank the majority and like a gentlemen he let you. He tucked you in, and he settled in next to you, arm around you, and he just let you cry and cry. You complained about everything under the sun when it came to Ethan. The stupid pants he wore, to his cologne, how he said certain words, and how horrible he treated Richard. He sat at the edge of the bed, gently stroking your hair, and shaking you awake. As you woke, it felt as though your spirit returned to your body, and you felt heavy again, but warm under the blankets. You opened your eyes to see Richard sitting there, smiling down at you. “Good morning.” He said softly, as to not shock you with his presence. “Richard?” You said, as you slowly moved the blanket from your face rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Yes, It’s me, you’re not dreaming.” He joked, rubbing your arm. “You’re here!” you cooed sleepily. “Yes, I live here. Did you drink so much you forgot?” “I know that.” Richard smiled and looked at you for a moment. His hand moved from your arm, to move a few strands of hair from your face. His index finger grazed your cheek, and you smiled. He tilted his head a bit and studied your face. “I jumped on the first flight I could.” You moved the blanket down, and stretched your arms wide, awaiting a hug you desperately needed. He smiled and leaned in to hug you. His arms slipped under you, and he pulled you into his arms. Practically pulling you up from the bed. You buried your face in his neck, and he squeezed you in return. You relaxed in his arms, and didn’t plan on letting him go, but you wanted to reveal in his warmth and scent. You take in a deep breath and then release it slowly. “I’m just happy you’re here.” “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He asked, as one of his hands stroked your back. “Because of your job.” “(Y/N)? Do you really think that would keep me away from you?” he asks, as he releases you and cups your face. “You know what I mean.” You say sweetly, placing your hands on his own. “Your friends break up doesn’t fall on the important spectrum when it comes to your career.” He chuckles and lets go of your face and stands up. “It’s not my career that makes all the decisions, but my heart. Time with you is all I always want, like air to a dying man.” He says, as he heads towards the bedroom door. “Which is to say that nothing would keep me from you. As selfish as that may sound.” “Richard…” you started, but he interrupts. “Now out of bed. You need to eat.” He walks out of the door. “I kind of like it here! Your bed is amazing!” You shout after him. “Then I guess I’ll bring your breakfast to you! He shouts back. You laugh to yourself and fall back into the large pillows. Your arms stretched out at your sides. The sound of breakfast for dinner sounded exciting to you. You remembered Richard’s cooking it for you whenever you both would get drunk, it was always delicious, and he always ate with you. You closed your eyes and several minutes later, you could smell the aroma coming from the kitchen. An hour later, Richard brought you the works. Freshly squeezed juice, toast with grape jam, eggs, bacon, and a bowl of grapes and honey dew. He placed it on his bed, with a giant tray, and there was enough for two people. You turned the TV on just for background noise while you both spoke, He told you the story about how after he got your call, he called his assistant and requested the next flight out of Los Angeles to New York that there was. He called ahead to the front desk and requested that you be let in, but it would have to be the servant’s entrance as he had locked the elevator to his floor. He called his other assistant in New York to find the best relaxation basket he could, and to make sure there was a sweet message from him for you. He wanted you to know that he would take care of you. When it was time for him to leave, he didn’t even pack any clothes. He grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet, and left. He didn’t have time to think, his instincts told him that you needed him, and you needed him now. On the plane he was anxious to see you, and he couldn’t wait to get out of the airport, and into the taxi to get home to you. “You didn’t have to do all of that. Did you even get any sleep?” You asked as you held the toast in your hand, looked at him. He looked at you and reached over to wipe a piece of jam from your lips. “No. I’d been up for about 24 hrs, I believe? There was no time to think about myself. I was worried about you.” He said as he went back to eating. You sat there staring at him and you lowered the toast to your lap. Your eyes started to burn and glaze over. “Why would you do that for me? Why do anything of it?” Your voice started to shake, and you honestly tried to hold back the tears. You hated crying in front of him, and you didn’t want him to think you were a cry baby, but damn it. He was always so sweet and kind to you. Why couldn’t you be with someone like him? Why couldn’t you have been the one in this bed for years, waiting for him to come home to you. You knew that you loved him, but just the thought of him flying across country, not sleeping until you were taken care of, and happy before taking care of himself hit you hard. Richard put his food down, cleaned his mouth, and swallowed the remaining food. He looks down for a moment nodding slightly to himself, as if he was talking to himself. Like the moment you get when you are building yourself up to finally say something. “Do you really have to ask?” He said, still looking down at nothing in particular. “After all this.” He looks at you. “I did it because….I love you, (Y/N).” You new that it would take time, but with those words you felt the break in your heart start to heal. END.

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unbreakablewidow · 5 years

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Happy New Years!!!

It happened! We survived another year and this happened to be our FIRST YEAR on this blog!

Natalia and I have had the HONOR of working with so many fantastic people and can’t believe the amount of LOVE we’ve received from the community. With over 1350+ followers within the span of 9 months? Getting around 10 meme’s a day? We can’t BELIEVE it!

We’re going to pump out some love for a few very special individuals that have made this experience a HAPPY one. In no particular order -- and if I’ve MISSED you send us a message and we’ll add you on.

Also it’s Feburary 2nd, this has been sitting in my drafts since New Year’s Day so forgive how late this is!

@ssprxmx -- yo I just LOVE these two and their little interactions. Natalia’s such a little flirt and the moment she locked eyes on Stephen that man was in trouble! Your portrayal is absolutely beautiful and I’m secretly addicted to the reactions Nat gets out of him when she says something nasty or surprises him with her gentle caring affections like when she gives him her scarf. Even though she might flirt a little too much I promise she cares so much for him and will protect him from all the little evils in the world.

@rockingthe45 -- okay, so this little blond haired shit likes to start other shit and pull people into it. For sure the highlight of my nights is watching Steve try to fight other people and bring them down with really good puns, or maybe that whole “arguing whose the tallest” thing might’ve been the greatest interactions IC before on tumblr that wasn’t an official thread or plotted. I love how snarky your Steve is and whenever he and Nat interact it’s precious because sometimes I sit at my computer wondering how the hell she’s supposed to react to something he said, or I’m trying to think of a better reply because Nat will NOT be one-upped by her virgin best friend.

@casualxwriter -- probably the character I’ve been working on the longest dating back to May 2015. I know, insane, right? I’ve had the greatest honor or working with a character and watching their arc develop, literally over years, from a first meeting, a first date, to a wedding, to a separation, now to immortality. Adam and Nat have their own adventure and we’re so excited to see where it goes and what hell we’re going to put them through!

@sayyoullalwayshauntme -- we’ve only been working togethere for about a month and we’ve already done so much? There’s nothing I love more than actual chemistry between characters and I think we’ve done it! Natalia and I get so excited whenever we see you’re on and know we’re in for a treat! Her Jordan is just bomb and loves to see his youthful energy because it balances out with her own maturity; I don’t care what anyone says, they’re a complete power couple and I hope they go on forever!

@callmecatman -- one of first nsfw interactions I’ve had since starting this blog, and it’s so much deeper than that! I really didn’t expect it, but Natalia has totally fallen in love with Junior and she does care for Blake, just not as much as she loves her Junior. That boy is undoubtedly the most lucky guy ever to have snagged her; she so enthralled with how sweet he is and even still blushes whenever he calls her pretty. Also helps he’s actually pretty good in bed.

@hxtties -- Clark Kent is a total farm boy daddy and no one can convince Nat and I otherwise. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking Superman won’t fuck a girl until she passes out because this Clark will prove them wrong. We’ve gone so much deeper than just smut but Natalia is on the opposite end of the spectrum with her work while Clark stands for justice and honor. It’s actually a rather complicated dynamic, but it works. If not, Nat will work for sex.

@tatteredsmiles -- Loki just LOVES his spontaneous little ballerina and the arrogant princess! I love your AU portrayal of Loki because sometimes Nat and I need a different version of a character we play with quite frequently. I look forward to every reply we get from you! Keep being awesome.

@firejugglinghobo -- you were for sure a hidden gem! I remember finishing the movie and was like “shit I gotta find a Dustfinger right now” and when I found your blog I was absolutely elated you wanted to plot something with silly ole’ me! Even though Natalia doesn’t show it and might seem a little too forward with her flirtations, she does fully intend on following through in her promise to help him find a way home. Who knows where that will eventually lead!

@iamthexweapon -- do you know how goddamn excited I was when I met someone willing to do our main plot? How many times Natalia’s wanted a daddy and she’s finally got one? And because it’s me, of course I turn it to angst when they were having awesome kinky sex only twenty notes earlier. Thank you for your willingness to embrace Nat’s kinky side and give her something to build on!

@ircnego -- Okay, scratch what I said above about Nat being kinky, because every chance she gets to flirt with Tony she’s going to take it and will raise the bar each time. I swear, one day she’s gonna end up in your inbox saying someone leaked a sex tape of them just because she’s gonna insist on public sex one day. Thanks putting up with this dork!

@rlyehbound -- there was something very interesting about your character that drew Nat in. Sometimes it can get quite difficult shipping or flirting with the same characters and it’s always a welcomed change for Natalia to meet a stranger. Even more fun when she’s trying to figure him out! She won’t be entirely surprised that the man she happens to meet by chance is immortal, because really? Nothing scares her anymore.

@thehunterprogram -- you. You get your ass back on this website and do some replies because you did NOT just leave Nat to hang after finding something out about his past that she and I have waited FOUR YEARS to get answers. That’s just rude! We have a goddamn story to finish! <3

@mischieftomake -- I love, love, love spontaneous threads! I like how they came in pre-established to make things easier in terms of relationship building, but let’s be real, Natalia and I aren’t patient and we love the added angst of a secret relationship so of course we went for a marriage. Don’t blame her!! We both have a thing for drama, and Nat’s so happy!! She loves every bit of her husband and I hope the more we work together the more we can uncover between our dorks and their genuine love they hold for each other.

@greenwithgamma -- so in no way shape or form do I ship Bruce and Nat, so I was actually quit thankful when you sent in the meme for an AU because I’m totally comfortable with it. But through that AU we were able to get a feel for each other’s writing and it allowed me to ease into the idea and build from there. I’m super thankful you’re around because it’s given me a new perspective on a future relationship and I can accept part of what happened in the movie that shall not be named. You’re a treasure and I appreciate all you’ve helped me with mentally, even if you don’t realize it! Nat and I are quite excited for your return this month!

@olliscot -- You like for sinday starters, there’s about a 75/25 chance it’s a professor/student AU, but in our case it started off as a number meme and I SWEAR that’s the one that popped up! Worked well, too, because I’m not only loving the smut, but I love their little hateship dynamic. I’m super super excited for when they go back to class one day because Nat totally has something planned that will either make Oliver pissed or hard.

@sicxriius -- so there’s is a huge lack of Winter Soldier rp’ers here so the very few I get to stick I try to cram as much love into them as I possibly can! You’re a very sweet writer and your interpretation as James is lovely. Thank you for allowing Natalia to cry in front of him because she’s so close to an emotional breakdown because of how much she cares for him.

@watsonofagun -- okay. WOW. Real talk. First of all, that meme you answered like a month ago complimenting me? I think about that everyday. I can’t ever explain to you how much it means to me you think I’m quality, because YOU are absolute quality. Nat and I are complete trash because we’re ALWAYS on here pumping out replies that might not be quality, but believe me when I say I sit my ass in front of my computer and put every dedication into our replies because I love our interactions! Yeah, big surprise John Watson fell in love with another spy, but it’s not common for Natalia to fall in love with a single father. He has some serious competition with Rosie! Thank you so much for you replies, I really look forward to seeing them!

@goddamnmuses -- and now onto the scheduled angst. It never happens often where Natalia’s romantically involved with a Peter, and even the threads we don’t have romance, I still get a hell of a thrill whenever Peter mentions his crush on her or talks about how beautiful she is! It’s like opposite ends of the spectrum because in one thread she’s trying to ignore how she fells about him romantically, while in the other it’s a really close friendship where she loves him in a non-romantic way and cuddles against him because the touches are great! Looking forward to future interactions!

@spiderprodigy -- Peter wants a car? He gets a car! Peter wants a mentor, he’s got it in her! I’m desperately hoping for a scene with Peter and Natalia in the movies because I really think she wants what’s best for him and would try to wiggle her way into becoming Peter’s second favorite aunt. Know you are appreciated and loved by this girl!

@strangeofthevishanti -- Natalia LOVES her Stephen! They work really well together and over the few months we’ve been able to delve into so many AU’s that are just...they’re just incredible! We understand you’re busy with school and hope that you’ll return to us soon, because we have so much to catch up on!

@airxn -- Even though we haven’t had many replies between us, I think what’s been given is a great way to show Natalia’s vulnerability. She’s a complex character with a dark past not a lot of people she’s close to knows about, so whenever I’m given the chance to show it a little I feel so honored! It’s also awesome she has a buddy like Airin who’s willing to fly to Russia to make her feel safe and protect her!

@eldingaesir -- so was it mean to make Thor wait as long as he did? Um, yes, but in Natalia’s defense she doesn’t like waiting, therefore the punishment is justified! I love our two dorks in their states of lust and determination to tease to no end, but deep down I think she really does care for him and I hope in our future interactions it will be shown more...AFTER some great kinky sex. They’ve earned it.

@fightthehcrricane -- oh, our two dorks! Now dorks with a kid and trying to move on with their lives together without trying to kill each other! Thankfully that divorce thing is behind them, and I’m not dropping hints, but I am strongly suggesting that Raleigh propose or Nat WILL go after him with another pregnancy! Nat and I both love you! <3

@mxdeapromise -- okay, instant chemistry! Natalia flirts all the time and I don’t bother stopping her anymore, but she sees right through his playboy persona and is going to tear our his heart the first chance she can. She’ll steal his shirts, sneak into his mansion, and dance the night away until they’re the only ones left on the dance floor. Bruce should just let her or else he’s going to be suffering some consequences!

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