#it's like fucking checking your windows before you reverse your car. yes you already looked once so there's probably no one behind your car
Note
💀 surprise me 🎃
Fuck yes! Now, this is based off of an urban legend I heard when I was like 9. I added smut and changed details (as most people do with urban legends) Hope you enjoy!
Tap-tap-tap
Warnings: smut, scary, fear, death/finding someone dead Halloween themes, not proof read,
The closet at your best friend's Halloween party was dark, cramped and smelled like old clothes that hadn't been worn in years. And to be honest, you couldn't sit on Timothee's dick comfortably in there.
"Fuck, baby," he whispered into your ear as you rode him. His dick slipped out each time you traveled up.
"Ugh, could you have picked a worse closet to do this in?" You asked, not bothering to hide your annoyance.
"I'm sorry," Timothee whined. "I needed you. Immediately. It's your fault for wearing that slutty scarecrow costume. God damn your tits look nice in it."
"Well, I don't see how you can see my tits in this fucking closet. It's dark as shit." You guided his cock back inside you, impaling yourself on him yet again. Timothee groaned as he filled you. "Can we go home? I'll suck your dick while you drive," you bribed, attaching your lips to his neck for added effect.
"Fuck, okay fine."
You sucked in the skin of his neck, humming happily before popping off. You heard the zip of Timothee's pants as you pulled the dress of your costume back over your hips. It was part of the reason you liked the costume, easy access.
"Wait, let me say bye to Ashely," you called to Timothee, who was already making his way to the front door.
"I'll warm up the car."
You checked the kitchen for Ashely, not seeing any trace of her through the bodies packed around the punch bowl and snacks, nor was she in the living room. You jumped at the sound of screams from the overly loud horror movie playing for the guests as you made your way upstairs.
You found it odd that she wasn't anywhere to be found at her own party, but as you turned the corner to her room to knock on her door, you stopped at the sound of whines and moans. You rolled your eyes knowing exactly what was going on.
"Ashely," you called out. The moans stopped, but no one responded. "Don't worry, I'm leaving. Have fun fucking."
"You know," you started as you hopped into the passenger side of Timothee's car. "I love Halloween, but I fucking hate Halloween parties."
"You're weird," Timothee laughed, shaking his head as he put the car in reverse. "But I like weird." He winked and turned on the radio as he drove off into the night.
The drive back home was long and filled with back roads since you moved in with Timothee over the summer. You had just begun to doze off before Timothee turned up the radio. The sound of a radio news reporter interrupting a classic rock station, was heard just as Timothee stopped the car at a red light.
"What is-”
“Shhh, listen.”
“Attention listeners, we interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news. A resident of a New York State Psychiatric Institute has escaped and is considered dangerous. Please remain inside your homes until further notice. Lock all doors and windows and do not answer them for anyone.”
Timothee rolled his eyes and turned off the radio. You looked at him wide eyed and locked the car doors.
“My god, Timothee we’re like 45 minutes from home!”
“Calm down, y/n. We are fine. They’re probably exaggerating the truth anyways.”
“How can you be so calm?! Clearly, he’s a threat to society if they broadcasted it over the radio!”
“Hey,” Timothee said, reaching over to place a soothing had on your knee. “It’ll be okay.”
The light turned green.
Timothee stepped on the gas, but the car only rolled a few feet forward before sputtering. He slammed the gas again, turning the wheel sharply until he was able to pull the car off to the side.
“You’re fucking kidding,” you said in a voice that contained nothing but fear. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding, Timothee.”
“Uh, hang on. Don’t panic.”
He turned the car off then quickly attempted turning it back on. A grinding sound that seemed to echo through the night filled the air.
“We need gas...I think,” Timothee said, calmly.
“Oh, we just need gas?” You slapped his shoulder. “WE JUST NEED FUCKING GAS?!”
Timothee rolled his eyes. “Come on, y/n. Don’t be like that. Look, we passed a gas station a few miles back. I’ve got a gas can in the trunk and-”
“No. You are NOT leaving me in this car alone and you are not walking to that gas station in the middle of the night with a fucking killer on the loose.”
Timothee laughed and earned a crazed look from you, which only made him laugh harder. “We don’t even know if he’s a killer. Maybe he’s just some crazy dude who is walking around god knows where. It’s kind of sad really.”
“What’s sad is that we could be home by now, having sex and instead were stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a god damn killer on the loose. What are we gonna do?”
Timothee grabbed his phone.
“Shit. No service here.”
He looked over to you.
“My phone’s dead,” you said, answering the question you knew he was about to ask.
A car zoomed by, causing you to jump and yelp quietly.
“Come on, let’s get in the back, okay? We’ll hide out in the back and when the sun comes up, we’ll walk to that gas station together, okay?”
Timothee climbed in the back, his long, lanky body laying awkwardly in the too short, too small back seat. He waved toward himself, motioning for you to join him. You sighed, not believing you were in the situation that had unfolded. He pushed his back against the seat, leaving room for you to lay and press against him. You felt yourself relax, until the sound of another speeding car rushed past. You tensed against him, pressing yourself harder against his body. Timothee held you tightly, his hand firmly against your stomach. You felt him harden against your ass.
“Seriously Timothee?”
“I can’t help it,” he whispered. “You’re just so fucking hot and your body is just right here all pressed up on me. You also promised me a blow job which I haven’t forgotten about so...”
You rolled your eyes, turning to face him. His face was incredibly close to yours when you laid in his back seat, you could see the light freckles that peppered his face with what little moonlight the windows let in.
“I’m scared,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his.
“I know.” He kissed you back. “So, let’s take your mind off of it.”
“I’m not sure I can, you know, get myself ready enough for sex right now.”
“I can get you ready,” Timothee answered while a hand traveled up your dress. He pulled your panties down to your knees. “Pull that dress up and sit on my face.”
“Timothee no. What if someone sees?!”
“Everyone’s probably locked up in their houses, y/n,” he said, licking a finger and pressing it to your clit. “Plus, these windows are so tinted, no one can see inside. Trust me. Sit on my face.”
You needed something to take your mind off of being scared and Timothee had already worked your clit enough with his finger that you wouldn’t be able to quit thinking about cumming until he made you. Maybe after you came, you’d be able to sleep through the rest of this shitty night.
“Okay,” you gave in.
Timothee smiled wide, moving to lay on his back, the leather seats creaking quietly as he moved. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
“You’ve tasted me many times,” you said straddling his face.
“I know and I can’t get enough of-” he hummed the rest into your pussy as he began lapping at your soft flesh.
Instantly, your fears and thoughts all together vanished. This man knew how to eat you. He knew how to move his tongue in ways that made your body shake and toes curl. His hands grabbed handfuls of your ass, pressing you harder onto his face. You closed your eyes as soft moans and hums fell from your mouth and your body relaxed. You dripped into his mouth while his tongue made figure eights around your clit.
You opened your eyes as you neared your orgasm, only to be brought face to face with a man staring into the window of the back seat of Timothee’s car. His hands were cupped against the glass and beady, black eyes were tightly squinted as if he was trying his hardest to see inside of the car.
You covered your mouth, trapping the scream that you so desperately wanted to release and slid off of Timothee’s face.
“What? What’s wrong? Did you not like it?” Timothee sat up, wiping his mouth.
You lifted a shaky hand and pointed to the window behind him.
“Th-there was someone staring inside your car, Tim.”
Timothee turned around, quickly a hand grabbing the door handle. You pulled him to you before he had the chance to open it. “Don’t you fucking dare open that door.”
“There’s no one there, y/n.”
“There was someone there! I saw him. You have to believe me. You have to.”
Timothee was quiet for what felt like hours. His eyes scanned the car, and he occasionally looked behind him, outside the window.
“Well, he didn’t see us, if that’s what you’re worried about. These windows are tinted,” he reminded you.
“Do you think it was the crazy man from the institute?” You whispered.
“No. The state facility is like...two hours away, maybe more, he would have had to travel pretty far to-”
The handle of the driver’s side door shook vigorously. Timothee pulled you into him, covering your mouth to keep you from screaming. He was holding his breath and did so until the rattling of the door handle stopped. You looked into his eyes, noticing fear for the first time ever.
“Now I’m scared,” he admitted.
He scooted the two of you down back into a laying position.
“He can’t see us,” he said again. You weren’t sure if he was saying it to you or reassuring himself. “He can’t get in...he’ll go away soon.”
The man on the outside moved to each door, attempting to open each one. You cried into Timothee’s hand as the car shook and eventually the only sound remaining was a faint tap-tap-tap on the roof of the car.
You counted seventy-three taps before your eyes grew heavy.
Fifty more until you sleep overpowered your ability to count completely.
You awoke to the sound of heavy knocks on the driver’s side door. Timothee shook your shoulder, waking you up the rest of the way.
“I think it’s the police,” he said.
It was daytime. Sunlight poured into Tim’s tinted windows.
“Do you think it’s safe to come out?” You asked him, your voice painful against your dry throat.
“Anyone in there?” A voice called from outside.
“Y-yes! We’re in here! We were trapped last night. Someone was trying to break in our car. Is it safe to come out?” You called, praying it was.
There was silence before a different voice chimed in. “Unlock your doors and make your way out. Are you hurt?”
They didn’t answer your question, which gave you a thick, uneasy feeling deep within your stomach.
“No, we’re okay.” Timothee answered.
“We’re with the NYPD, we can give you a ride back into town.”
Timothee shook his head and opened the door.
It had to be late afternoon with how brightly the sun beyond the tinted windows of Timothee’s car. As Timothee climbed out, he was greeted by a sheriff who immediately whispered something into Timothee’s ear. Timothee nodded and stood with his back to, waiting for you to join him. You climbed out after him, standing next to your boyfriend. The sheriff leaned over to you and whispered.
“Walk straight to the sheriff’s car. Do not look behind you.”
Your heart fell to your stomach at his words.
Why couldn’t you look behind you?
What happened?
Timothee grabbed your hand, pulling you to the sheriff’s car.
“Y/n, let’s go. Let’s do what the man said.”
“What happened back there? Why can’t we see?”
“Let’s just go.”
“I left my purse and my purse and my phone I have to go back.”
“Y/n come on!”
Timothee pulled you but you jerked your hand away already turned halfway around when you began to speak, “I have to get my-”
Your words were cut off by your own scream.
The sheriff, who was in the middle of cutting the rope that was wrapped around Ashely’s neck and tied around a tree branch of a large oak tree that Timothee parked under the night before, cursed.
He climbed down and said words to you that made no sense.
You couldn’t hear them over the tap-tap-tap of Ashely’s shoes as her body swung above the car.
Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp
#timothee chalamet#timothée chalamet#writing#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee chalamet x you#timothee blurb#timothee chalamet imagine#timmy chalamet#smut#Halloween special
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With You in My Head
Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)
Rating: E
Pairing: Spangel
Characters: Spike, Angel, Harmony
Word Count: 1926
Warnings: phone sex, pwp, masturbation, brief anal fingering, dominant Spike
Summary: Angel gets a phone call he didn't expect Spike to make.
A/N: fills the phone sex square for @kinky-things-happen bingo, and Role Reversal for @thebo3bingo
Angel pulled his ringing cell phone from his pocket as he entered his office and answered it.
“Wes?”
“Oi! I should bloody well hope not! Don’t you ever check the number ‘fore you answer?”
“What do you want, Spike”, Angel with a sigh, crossing over to the little bar in the conference room that connected to his office. He poured himself a double shot of whiskey and headed back through the double doors, shutting them behind him.
“You alone?”
Rolling his eyes, Angel downed the amber liquor in one swallow. He had a feeling he was going to need it for whatever the blonde menace was up to now.
“Yes, I’m in my office. Look, I’ve got paperwork to get done, so either tell me why you’re calling, or hang up. And don’t ask me for the Viper, the car maintenance budget is almost used up already, and we’re only a month into the quarter.”
“Not askin’ for the soddin’ car, pet. Was feelin’ horny, ‘s all. Fancy a wank?”
Angel spluttered, glad he'd already drunk the whiskey. He’d had phone sex with Spike before, but that had been years ago, and within the privacy of his own bedroom.
“Spike, I don’t-”
“Oh, come on, Liam, unclench will you? D’rather fuck ya, but, as you pointed out, I ain’t got the Viper, so there ain’t no way to get to the ol’ heart of evil without becoming vampire flambe." Spike's voice dipped into a seductive timbre Angel hadn't heard directed at him in too long. "So, be a good lad, go lock the door and shutter the window, get all comfy, an’ let me get us both off, yeah?”
Angel felt a shiver of desire shoot down to his groin at the husky, commanding tone in his Childe's voice, and his cock began to harden even as he went to carry out the order. Spike hadn't taken charge of their sexual dalliances since he'd popped up at Wolfram and Hart, not that there had been all that many in the two months since they'd first given into the near-ravenous need they both still had for each other. He'd almost forgotten how turned on he got when Spike took control.
After he locked the doors and frosted the windows, Angel sat down in his chair, his fingers grazing over the rapidly growing bulge in his lap as he brought the phone back up to his ear.
"Okay."
"Yeah? You all settled in for me, pet?"
"Y-yeah", Angel rasped into the phone, arousal tingling along his spine at the breathy sound of Spike's voice. "Yeah, I'm settled."
"Good boy."
Angel shuddered at the words, his cock throbbing against his zipper.
“Shit!”
“Mmm, liked that, huh? Yeah, you did, I know you, Angel. You like being my good boy, don’t you, pet?”
“Ah, yeah..”, Angel groaned.
"Bet you're hard as stone already, ain't you, luv?"
"Yuh-yess." Angel rubbed his palm over the bulge tenting his slacks, desperate to pull himself out. "You?"
"Oh, yeah. Started thinkin' 'bout you, while I was in the shower. Wanked then, but it wasn't enough, pet, needed to hear your voice."
"Fuck", Angel gasped out a whisper, his aching cock twitching at the image of Spike, naked, wet, his hand wrapped around his pale, long cock, stroking the length as the water sprayed down on him. He thrust up against his hand, needing the friction. "Tell me, please…"
"Want me to tell you 'bout how I got myself off in the shower, pet? That what you want?"
"God, yes, please!"
Spike snickered on the other end of the line and Angel could just see the enticing leer he knew would be on the blonde's face.
"How 'bout you get yourself out for me first, luv, an' I'll tell you, yeah?"
Angel groaned in relief at the permission and tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he undid his pants. Lifting his hips from the chair, he pushed his slacks and boxers down to his knees, his cock curving up towards his stomach with its newfound freedom, plummy head peeking out of the retracting foreskin. He wrapped his hand around the thick shaft, squeezing it lightly before stroking it once.
"Y'ready for me, luv?"
"Shit, yes. Please, tell me, wanna hear how you jerked off."
"Christ, pet, love how husky your voice gets when you beg for me."
Angel heard Spike shifting around over the phone, and he could see in his mind, that lithe, pale, naked body spreading out over the small bed in his basement apartment, that always eager cock jutting up to lay flat against his abdomen, little drops of pre-cum oozing out to fill his navel. He had to swallow back the pooling saliva at the thought of dipping his tongue into that little indent to lap up the slick essence collecting there.
"Tell me."
"I'm gettin' to it, pet, had to make myself more comfy first. So, there I was, bathin' as usual, my tight, hard, body all soaped up and wet, when I remembered that scrap we had last night with that vamp nest. Bloody good time that was, luv, watching you dust those buggers, the smell of your lucious blood in the air when one of 'em got a lucky scratch in. Made me hard then and there, sight of you with that coat swirlin' round you, savage and free as you let Angelus out to play a bit."
"Fuck."
"Yeah, and jus' thinking of that, just rememberin' how you looked, and smelt, Christ, it gave me a stiffy that could batter down the gates of bloody Troy. Knew it weren't gonna just go away on its own, not with you in my head. Had to wrap my soaped up hand around it. Needed to cum."
Angel groaned, his hand stroking steadily along his throbbing cock, the foreskin fully retracted now, fat drops of pre-cum slicking the way as his thumb circled over the head. God, he loved hearing his Childe in the throes of lust, that deep, raspy timbre it took on as he let himself get lost in his arousal.
"Pictured you were there with me, luv, in the shower. Your huge, naked self all wet and slippery. My hand was your hand, thick sausage fingers wrappin' round my needy cock and strokin' just right. Felt so good, pet. Love your bloody big hands, Angel. But it wasn't enough.
So, I watched you get on your knees for me, you like doin' that, don't you, Peaches? Just love kneeling for your boy, takin' it how ever I wanna give it to ya. Don't care if it's your mouth or arse, don't care 'bout the lore, just want me fuckin' you, using you, don't ya, Sire?"
Angel gasped slightly at the imagery Spike's words conjured up, his free hand gripping tightly at the armrest of his chair. Desire shot like electricity along his spine, his cock throbbing, balls aching as he imagined himself kneeling on the tile floor of Spike's shower, that long, pale cock thrusting down his throat. Illicit disregard of Sire/Childe propriety ramping his pleasure higher, the pair of them reveling in the taboo of their shared need.
"Yes, you know I do, Spike. Oh, God."
"Yeah, you do. An' Christ, you were so grateful, there in me shower, so appreciative of me lettin' you suck my cock. God, I could practically feel you swallowing round my dick, pet, squeezing my hand around my aching head, imagining it was your throat. Take it so pretty, luv. Those sweet brown eyes o'yours flicked up to me, cor, what a sight you made. Your lips stretched tight round me, moaning at my taste, eyes all doe-like and warm chocolate. Could see your cock too, ruddy and solid, leaking all over your stomach as it ached for my touch."
"Should see it now, Spike. It needs you bad now, too."
Angel sank lower in his chair, his legs spreading wider as he cupped his balls in his free hand, squeezing the full sacs, his climax looming closer.
"Mm, reckon it does. Gonna have to make do with your own giant mitt for now though, luv." Spike grunted over the line. "Fuck, 'm close, Angel, need to hear your voice, need to hear you beg me for real. Talk dirty for me, pet, make your boy cum."
“Jesus, please, Spike. Touch me, please touch me, need it.” Angel sped his hand along his cock, his other hand slipping down to trail his fingers along his perineum, circling a fingertip around his clenching pucker. He was panting now, unable to stop, unable to make his voice not sound so breathy and desperate, and utterly uncaring of how needy his plea was. He knew it was what Spike wanted of him anyway, knew Spike loved him like this, wanton and carefree. “So hard for you, Childe, just listening to you, hearing how you picture taking me. God, I wish you were here, Will, your perfect cock in my mouth, your hand on my dick, thrusting into your tight fist as you thrust down my throat, fingers tugging at my hair as you just fuck my face. Fuck, Spike, need you, so bad."
Angel could hear Spike breathing harshly on the other end, the raspy sounds interspersed with deep groans and grunting. He could see Spike, in his head, hips bucking up as he fucked his own fist, free hand unclenching from the sheets to drift over his lean, pale chest, nails scratching over a perky, pink nipple. Angel struggled to push out words on his own panting exhales, pushing a nearly dry finger through the furled muscle of his twitching rim, feeling his release surging up from his balls.
"Shit, I'm so close, Spike, my Childe, my boy. Cum for me, Childe, cum with me. Lemme hear you, God, I can almost taste you, feel you, on me, in me. So close, so…fuck, oh, fuck, Spike!"
"Bloody hell, Angel!"
Angel slumped back down in his seat, panting, staring down at the sticky mess on his shirt and dripping down his fingers. He could hear Spike panting along with him through the phone, the little plastic brick of wires lying on his thigh where it had fallen during his intense orgasm. When he'd managed to control his unnecessary breathing, he picked up the cell with his cleaner hand, pressing it to his ear, his cock regaining mild interest as he listened to Spike coming down from his own climax.
"Jesus."
"Heh, good, eh?"
"Yeah. Good. Fuck, now I've got to go up and change."
"Oh, naughty Sire made a mess, did he? Fuck, I'd like to see that."
Angel let out a weak groan, his cock threatening to harden again even as he tried to clumsily pull his pants back up over it. There were still too many hours of daylight left.
"Come over tonight, soon as the sun sets. Sire wants to make a mess with his Childe."
"Fuck that. Childe's gonna take the bloody tunnels an' be there in half an hour. Cancel whatever meetings you got this afternoon, your boy's gonna give you just what you need."
Angel heard the line disconnect and felt his cock begin to fill again, pressing against his zipper. Wiping his sticky hand on his soiled shirt, he pressed a button on his office phone.
"Harmony, I'm taking the rest of the day off, reschedule everything for next week."
"Ok, but, you know it's only Tuesday, right boss? Bossy? Angel?!"
~~~~~
All Things Spike: @leatafandom
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Home
Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.
Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader
Content/Warnings: mentions of abandonment, unwanted sexual advances (outside character to spencer), swearing, mentions of cheating (doesn’t actually happen), happy ending
Word Count: 2.4k
Masterlist
Chapter 10
You woke up with Spencer’s arm lazily draped over your waist. Rain was pitter-pattering against the window.
You rolled over and cuddled yourself into Spencer’s chest.
“Good morning,” he hummed contently.
“G’morning,” you sleepily mumbled.
“Is my little angel tired from last night?” he asked.
“Very,” you nodded, “Do we have to pick Callie up from her sleepover?”
“She’s staying there until after her soccer practice. I have to go back to my house and get some more clothes to bring over here but other than that, my day is wide open,” he gently stroked your hair.
“I just have two appointments later in the day so I’ll have to go into the office this afternoon,” you yawned.
“I’ll make us breakfast,” Spencer tried to shift out from underneath the covers.
“Or…” you wrapped your arms around him once again, “We can get breakfast on the way to your house and then I get some extra cuddle time.”
“Sounds good to me,” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead.
-
“Um hello?” Spencer asked as you both approached the woman standing at his front door.
She turned around and Spencer’s eyes practically bulged out of his head.
“Spencer!” she ran to hug him.
Spencer refused to unclasp his hand from yours, making it very clear he had no intention to return the hug.
“What are you doing here, Austin?”
Austin. This was Callie’s mother. The woman who abandoned them both.
“I’m in between jobs right now, figuring out my purpose in life, you know? I just took a bus and ended up back here again. Got me thinking I should stop by and check in,” she smiled like this was just a casual visit from a friend.
“You wanted to stop by after 11 years and no goodbye?” Spencer asked incredulously.
“I could also use a place to crash for a few days. How’s Camellia doing? Does she still do that thing where she twitches her little nose? I always loved that.”
“Don’t act like you know my daughter at all,” Spencer seethed.
“Spencer,” you got in between them, putting your hands on his chest to calm him down.
You turned to Austin, “One second.”
You led Spencer back down the steps, “Look, I know what she did was very wrong but she did give you the greatest gift of all, Callie, so maybe you could invite her over for dinner and she could just sleep on the couch for the night?”
“Just one night?” Spencer confirmed.
“If you don’t do this now, Callie will probably just track her birth mother down later in life without you there to supervise. Lots of my past foster kids have and it doesn’t always end well.”
“Fine,” Spencer relented, heading back up the front steps.
“You can stay with us for one night,” Spencer emphasized, “I will be watching you the whole time you’re with Callie.”
“Deal!” She clapped her hands excitedly.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, opting to not give a label.
“Nice to meet you,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile.
She loaded her few bags of belongings into the back of the car as you and Spencer grabbed some more of his clothes from inside.
Spencer opted to drive so you headed to the passenger side. Austin grabbed the car door handle at the same time as you.
“Oh I’m sorry, were you going to sit here?” she feigned politeness.
“Yeah, I was,” you narrowed your eyes.
Spencer rolled the window down, “Austin, there’s plenty of room in the back.”
“Oh, of course!” she nodded enthusiastically.
You buckled as Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, in view of Austin. You settled in for the most awkward car ride of your life.
-
“Can’t you cancel? Please don’t leave me here with her,” Spencer begged as you got ready to go in for work.
“I would if they were just check-ups but Timmy has a rash I need to check out and I need to write a script so Jessica can get a refill on her medication. If you really don’t want to be alone with her, come with me,” you replied.
“I would but I also don’t trust her enough to leave her alone in your house,” Spencer sighed.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” you kissed him, “An hour and a half tops.”
“What do I even say to her?”
“You don’t have to say much. You’re already being generous enough to let her see Callie for the night. Just make dinner while I’m gone. You could offer her a bath or something if you want her to get out of your hair,” you suggested.
-
Spencer had offered Austin a bath so he didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence while you were gone.
He got to work cooking Rossi’s famous pasta for dinner, dicing onions and boiling the water. He would check the clock every minute and started a countdown in his head of when you would return home.
He heard the water drain from the tub upstairs.
Fuck, he thought, at least 10 more minutes until you’re home.
Austin sauntered down the stairs after her bath in just her bra and underwear, wearing one of Spencer’s unbuttoned dress shirts over top.
Spencer’s hands flew to cover his eyes, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Hopefully you,” she smirked.
“I have a girlfriend, well it’s not official yet but I am very much committed to her,” Spencer stated.
“If it’s not official,” she drew closer, “Then, this wouldn’t be cheating.”
“I don’t care if it’s technically not cheating. I only have interest in Y/N,” Spencer spoke firmly, his hands still over his eyes.
“Just once, Spence…for old time’s sake,” she whispered in his ear.
“No,” Spencer backed up further into the pot of sauce he was cooking for dinner, spilling a bit of the hot liquid on himself.
Spencer opened his eyes at the burning sensation, “Now look what you did,” he sighed frustratedly, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt, “I have to soak this before it stains. I can’t believe you. Why would you think this is okay?”
“Just go wash your shirt, Spencer,” Austin rolled her eyes.
Spencer, being so angry, didn’t hear the door open.
“I’m not finished with you, Austin,” he stared her down.
He heard a squeak from the other side of the room. You were standing there, fresh tears running down your face.
Spencer looked down at his unbuttoned shirt, Austin’s lack of clothes, and recalled the last thing he said.
“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like-” he tried to run after you but you were already out the door, slamming it behind you.
Spencer scrambled outside to where you were starting your car back up again.
“Y/N,” he frantically tapped against the car window, “Please let me explain.”
You didn’t even turn to face him, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the driveway.
Spencer stormed back inside, grabbing Austin’s bags, “Get the fuck out of Y/N’s house and get the fuck out of my family’s life.”
“But Callie isn’t even home yet,” she argued.
“Good,” Spencer yelled, “Because it took you less than 3 hours for your true colors to show again. You care about nothing! You didn’t want anything to do with us then so you don’t get to have anything to do with us now,” Spencer escorted her towards the door, “I will not hesitate to file for a restraining order if I see you near me, Y/N, or my daughter ever again.”
“Can I at least change?” she asked as Spencer threw her bags on the front step.
“You were plenty comfortable showing me who repeatedly told you no so might as well show the whole neighborhood,” he slammed the door in her face.
-
How dare he? In your house. Probably in your bed.
You went back to your office because Spencer couldn’t even leave you the dignity to retreat back to your own safe space that was now tainted with bad memories.
Luckily, you had a few pairs of spare clothes that you always kept in the office and a fully made cot in case a patient needed to rest. You settled yourself on the bed, letting the tears begin to fall again, drenching your pillow as you let sleep take over.
-
“Please pick up please please please,” Spencer begged.
“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I can’t come to the phone right now-”
Spencer hung up and hit his head against the steering wheel. He had already said what he needed to say in the previous 20 voicemails, followed by the additional 30 calls he made every 15 minutes, hoping you would pick up.
“At least you’re not blocked?” Callie tried her hardest to put a positive spin on it.
She didn’t know the full story, coming home after soccer practice to see her dad crying on the couch. Spencer told her that her mother had come back and hurt Y/N’s feelings badly because that was essentially what happened, right?
Spencer had been replaying the situation over and over in his head. Yes, it looked bad from the outside perspective but he didn’t think he actually did anything wrong. If only he could find Y/N, explain it to her and have her believe him.
“Have fun at school,” he hugged her goodbye before she hopped out of the car.
“Remember to tell Mrs. Roberts to drop you off at our place, not Y/N’s,” he reminded her.
“Our house is going to feel so dull though. It’s always cold, did you notice that? We don’t even have a cat,” she whined.
“The least we can do is give Y/N her space to process,” Spencer told her, “If she’s ready for us to come back into her life eventually, we’ll gladly take it.”
“If?” Callie grimaced, “How bad did my mother mess this up?”
“I’d rather not say,” Spencer simply stated.
“That sounds promising,” Callie sighed, “Bye, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
-
“Could you give this note to Doctor Y/L/N?” Spencer asked the receptionist.
Y/N,
Your house is cleared out. Despite your previous statement, it is obvious we have overstayed our welcome at the moment. I hope if you give me a chance to explain, it will ease your pain and in turn, mine. I swear to you, angel, nothing happened. I can tell the full story whenever you are ready and I hope you can hear the truth in my voice.
Yours,
Spencer
“Jake Gomez?” he heard you call out.
He turned around to see a little kid hopping out of his seat in the waiting room and following you into the clinic area. You made brief eye contact with him and you looked so broken. It took everything in him not to run up and beg on his knees for your forgiveness.
-
Callie had a big soccer game coming up and you really wanted to go but you also really didn’t want to see Spencer.
Sure, you got his note but he could easily have lied. It was hard to argue with what you saw right in front of your eyes.
You pulled your hair back into a low bun and wore a hood pulled over a hat as well as sunglasses. You made sure to blend in with the crowd of moms.
You saw Spencer about 2 rows of bleachers down, leaning against the fence. God, why did he have to look so good in jeans?
Despite your sunglasses, one of the moms caught the subject of your stares.
“I’m pretty sure he’s single too,” she nudged you, “If I didn’t have a husband, I would be all over that fine piece of ass.”
You just nervously nodded in response.
-
The game had gone into overtime. The teams had to take turns shooting on the opposing goalie’s net. Each team must take 5 shots with 5 different players and whoever makes the most wins.
Callie was put in the stressful position of needing to make the shot to win the game for her team. She took her time, lining up the shot and stretching out her legs.
Callie ran in for the kick, faking left and when the goalie dived, she kicked right.
“Score!” the ref announced.
“Yes, Callie!” you stood and screamed in excitement, “That’s what I’m talking about!”
After the initial shock wore off, you realized Spencer was staring directly at you.
You grimaced, “Um excuse me, sorry, excuse me,” you repeated as you tried to quickly get out of the aisle.
“Y/N, please wait!” Spencer ran after you.
“I came for Callie, Spencer, not you,” you huffed, slowing to a walk because the parking lot was up a hill and you weren’t about to sprint the whole way.
“Please, Y/N, let me explain. I miss you so much, it hurts,” he pleaded.
“Oh you’re hurt?” you asked incredulously, “I’m sorry that me leaving after I found you cheating on me hurt you.”
“I didn’t cheat!” Spencer insisted, “She was coming on to me but I rejected her every single time. I was yelling at her for how inappropriate her behavior was, that's what you walked in on.”
“You were yelling at her with your shirt off?”
“I had my eyes covered at first so I wouldn’t see her indecent but I accidentally backed into the sauce and I didn’t want to stain my shirt.”
You sat there in silence, processing his story.
“Please say something. I’ll do anything to make it right, I need you back.”
A tear fell from Spencer’s eye which was followed by many more.
“I think your story is just crazy enough that I believe you,” you spoke.
“Really?” Spencer asked.
“Really,” you outreached your arms for a hug.
Spencer dove into your embrace like it was his air. He cried into your chest for 10 minutes until he finally met your eyes again.
“I’m sorry, I just thought I was never going to get to do this again,” he squeezed you tighter, “I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my girlfriend. I actually want you to be more than my girlfriend someday but this is a good start for now.”
“I love you too,” you kissed him, “And just curious, what did you have in mind for the future?”
“I’m going to make you my wife someday,” he grinned.
A/N: one chapter left of this series! 🥺❤️
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chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter
✖ — summary: porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.
✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader
✖ — tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers
chapter one: save your love
“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”
“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?
Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.
“What did the fucker do this time?”
It didn’t last long.
“He didn’t do a thing.”
Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”
“Porco, please.”
“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”
You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.
“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”
“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.
Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.
“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.
“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”
“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”
Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.
“I like to think I have really good taste.”
“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.
“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.
“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”
“And?”
“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.
“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.
“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”
Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”
“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”
“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.
“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”
Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.
“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”
“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”
“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”
Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”
“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”
“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”
“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”
“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”
You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”
Porco scoffed.
“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”
Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.
Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.
“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”
Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.
“He could what?” you insisted.
“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.
Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.
Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.
Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.
“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.
“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”
Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.
“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”
You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.
“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.
Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.
It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.
He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.
“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.
You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.
“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”
You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.
“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.
“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”
Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.
It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.
When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.
Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.
You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.
He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.
“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.
“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”
Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.
Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.
He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow
“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.
“Why are you still with him?”
You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.
“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”
You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.
“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”
Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.
“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”
Once again, he was met with silence.
“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”
You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.
“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.
“Like me.”
You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.
“W-what?”
You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.
“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.
“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”
“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.
You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.
“Why?” you whispered.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Why do you… well—”
“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”
“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.
Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.
Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.
You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.
“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”
You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.
After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.
Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.
“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.
Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.
Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face
“Are you comfortable?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.
He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
...
When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.
He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.
But not like that. Never like that.
Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.
Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.
As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.
It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.
A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.
“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.
“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”
“Are you serious right now?”
You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.
“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”
In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.
The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.
#snk x reader#aot x reader#porco x reader#porco galliard x reader#porco galliard#porco angst#porco fluff#porco galliard angst#porco galliard fluff#aot porco#snk porco#porco#porco galliard x you#porco x you
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clandestine. | 03
↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
◇ jungkook x reader
◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au
◇ 9.2k [3/6]
notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime!
warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining
⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06
Monday - 11:27am
Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨
[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!
[11:27am] Jisoo: ???
[11:28am] Lisa: go where?
[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!
[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet
[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao
[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??
[11:29am] You: nope
[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine
[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby
[11: 31am] You: 🙄
[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!
[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍
[11:38am] Taemin: tight
[11:39am] Jungkook: dope
[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄
Tuesday - 2:34pm
[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van
[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean
[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice
[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim
[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too
[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍
[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about
[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.
Wednesday - 9:49pm
[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD
[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?
[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up
[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler
[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?
[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice
[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there
[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍
[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing
[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍
[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom
///
The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.
“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”
“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”
“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.
He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”
You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.
The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.
“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.
“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.
“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.
“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”
Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”
It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.
“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”
“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.
“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”
You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”
“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”
“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”
Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”
He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.
“Ready?” he calls out the open window.
No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.
He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.
“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”
You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”
Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”
///
Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”
Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”
Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”
“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”
Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.
“Gee, you don’t say.”
He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”
You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.
“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.
Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”
“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”
“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”
You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”
Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.
“Whaddaya want?”
“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”
On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”
That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”
“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”
“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”
“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”
You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”
“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”
He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”
“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”
And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.
“Rough morning?”
“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”
Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.
You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.
[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10
“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”
“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”
You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”
Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”
Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.
“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”
“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”
“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”
Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”
“Are you saying I’m not?”
He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”
“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”
“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”
“Deal.”
///
Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.
“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.
Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.
“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.
You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”
“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.
“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.
Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.
You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”
Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”
“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”
“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”
You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.
///
It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.
“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.
“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”
Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.
“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”
“Do not!”
Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.
“Fuck!”
You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.
“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”
The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.
Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.
“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.
You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.
“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”
Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”
Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”
“Nah, I’ll do it.”
Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.
Not that you’d been looking, of course.
“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”
Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”
“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”
The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”
“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”
He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.
“Tired?” you whisper.
“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”
Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.
///
“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.
“You’ll see.”
“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.
“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”
“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”
Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”
“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.
“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”
Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”
“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”
Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.
“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”
You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”
Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”
“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.
The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”
“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.
The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.
It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.
///
You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.
Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.
In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.
Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.
Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.
As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.
“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.
“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”
“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.
Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”
Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”
Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”
“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”
You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”
He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”
“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.
It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”
Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”
“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”
“Quit ogling my sister!”
“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”
Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”
“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.
“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”
You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”
And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.
Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.
“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”
You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”
Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”
You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”
Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.
With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.
“Ready to go, Noona?”
You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.
“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.
“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”
Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.
With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.
“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”
Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.
“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“
“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.
“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.
“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.
Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”
And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.
“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”
Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.
“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”
“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.
He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.
“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”
“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”
And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.
“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.
Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”
“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”
“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”
“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”
At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”
Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”
And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.
“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.
“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”
///
What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.
Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.
By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.
“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.
Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”
“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”
“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”
“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.
Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.
“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”
You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”
“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”
Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”
You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.
It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.
“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.
“What should we do?”
“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”
“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”
By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”
“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”
“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”
“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”
“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”
“You love me!”
“Really? You wanna test that theory?”
The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.
[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497
You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.
But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.
And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.
[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona
[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face
[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers
You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.
“Fuck.”
The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.
But, you aren’t focused on that.
No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.
“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.
And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.
[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess
You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.
[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?
You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.
And then…
“Hey, princess.”
His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.
“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”
Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.
“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”
Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.
Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.
“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”
You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”
Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”
Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”
Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”
A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.
“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”
His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”
He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”
On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.
“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.
Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”
“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”
With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.
Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.
#bangtanarmynet#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fanfiction#jeon jungkook#bts#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#lia writes
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Hi Mrs. Z! I hope you’re doing well, lovely. I wanted to request Flip teaching his wife how to drive. I imagine how patient and doting he would be looking after her while she masters this new skill. Thanks love! ❤️
A/N: I’m sorry to say this my dear anon, but there is nothing patient about Flip Zimmerman when it comes to driving, lol! But, I hope that you enjoy this chaotic ficlet, even if it isn’t exactly what you had hoped for!
(2.3k, cw: swearing/cursing, arguing, mentions of stabbing, blood, extremely unsafe driving practices, Flip making his girlfriend cry but for only like 2 seconds I promise it’s not really angsty lol)
If Flip had to think about your flaws, he knows he would come up with a pretty short list. There’s not much that you can’t do, especially when you put your mind to something. He has always thought this, let the record show, he thinks you are capable and strong.
He also thinks you are an absolutely fucking nightmarish driver.
Bracing himself with what he has decided can only be called the “jesus!!”-strap on the passenger side of your car, Flip tries to hang on as you tear through the roads. There’s too much happening all at once, he’s got a million things he wants to say, but as you run yet another red light, all he can manage is to shout out a panicked, “Slow down!!”
“I can’t slow down! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” You’re just as panicked as he is, which is a much bigger problem because you are the one currently trying to navigate rainy roads in a two-thousand-pound death machine.
It is true, yes, that he is bleeding all over the place. He may or may not have gotten stabbed in a chase that ultimately led to nothing on a big bust that one of the rookies fucked up for the squad. However, he wasn’t so sure that that meant he wasn’t fully capable of driving. He had wrapped himself in a compress of damp towels and plastic-wrap, and he had wholly intended to take the keys when you threw what could only be described as a fit at the state of him.
Which is how Flip finds himself in the very rare position of being the passenger, with you behind the wheel, driving like a bat out of hell.
“Oh my god – you can’t just run a red light like that – who the hell taught you how to drive ketsl? You’re a maniac!” You barrel through another intersection as the windshield wipers are going a mile a minute, and Flip abandons the strap to light up his sixth cigarette of the ride.
And then, you turn to him with a deep scowl, and throw it right back in his face as you point out one of the biggest regrets of Flip Zimmerman’s life, as you remind him that, “You did!”
“I’m going to die like this. Do you know how embarrassing that’s going to be, honey? I’m a decorated officer of the law, I served two fucking tours in Vietnam and I’m going to die because you can’t – watch out!” Flip has to brace himself again as you swerve around a corner too sharply on wet roads, the tires screeching as you burn rubber underneath your wheels. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty, you know that? Pretty girls like you don’t go to jail like they should for bein’ a menace on the fuckin’ roads. If I were in a better frame of mind I’d give you a ticket – no, worse than that! I’d lock you up, house arrest, no more drivin’ for the rest of your days.”
“Okay fine, you drive then.” You snap, throwing your hands up with exasperation, abandoning the wheel entirely, “If you’re going to just bitch the whole time you can do it.”
“Ketsl!” Flip yells as he grabs the wheel so that the two of you don’t go crashing into a street lamp, “Jesus you’re gonna kill us. How’d you even get your fucking license anyway? Bet you smiled so pretty at the schmuck at the DMV and batted your lashes. You’re a menace, I can’t believe you.”
Yes, he was the one who taught you how to drive. Or at the very least, he’s the one who attempted. He remembers it as if it were only yesterday, and tries not to think that he’s watching his life flash before his eyes…
~~~~~~~~
You had been waiting for him on your front porch when he came pulling up to the curb one day after work. Dressed real smartly, you bounded over to the driver’s window and he rolled it down enough that you could lean in and give him a big wet kiss.
“Hey sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” Flip had asked, starry eyed that he got to call you his girl. He had a couple plans in mind for the evening, but he always liked to ask you first, because your input mattered more.
“You can’t laugh.” You started off by saying, which by all accounts should have been Flip’s first clue that it was going to be a stressful day.
“Why would I laugh?”
“Because I was hopin’ you’d teach me how to drive.”
You look too hopeful for Flip to say no flat-out, but he really wants to. He really really wants to say no. But he’s a gentleman, or at least he tries to be, so he tries to find a polite way to say it, and eventually settles on, “…You sure about that?”
“Yeah! C’mon it looks real easy, and you’re a great teacher and you love me so much and I thought that it would be nice.” You’re determined, and he loves that about you in just about every other circumstance, as you continue on and on, “You know and then maybe if I get my license I could get a car and you wouldn’t have to go waitin’ on me all the time. I could pick you up from work, take you out to dinner.”
“But I like waiting on you and picking you up and taking you out to dinner.” Flip points out as he reaches through the window and pinches your nose playfully between his fingers, gives your face a little shake.
“Please Philly? Please won’t you teach me?” You pout and give him your best doe eyes, batting your lashes at him in the way that always gets him to say yes, and he sighs.
He brings you back to his house, and gets out and calls Jimmy, who he somehow manages to convince to bring his car over. Flip drives a stick-shift, and he can already tell that would be a nightmare in itself, but Jimmy drives an automatic, which he has a feeling is going to be easier.
You’re too excited to be learning that you don’t even question it, happily climbing into the passenger seat and marveling at all the dials and numbers on the dashboard. Flip slides into the passenger seat and hands you the keys.
“Okay, this here’s an automatic car. That means you don’t have to worry about shifting gears too quickly, and can focus on just controlling the car.” He explains, and you nod.
“How come we aren’t in your car?” You ask offhandedly, and Flip scratches at his goatee.
“Because I like my car.” He replies truthfully.
“Rude.”
“First step, turn the car on and check your mirrors.” Flip ignores the remark and tries to be encouraging as you turn the ignition and the engine rumbles underneath you. You jump a little, letting a happy laugh escape your lips at the marvel of automotive technology, and Flip tries not to be patronizing. It doesn’t work that well, “Very good, you’re doing great, you’re a natural. My girl, the natural.”
“You’re so mean to me why do I put up with you?” You chuckle, not wanting to feel like a dog who learned a new trick, even if that is sort of what it felt like.
“Love you,” Flip apologizes with a kiss, and checks to make sure the coast is clear before instructing, “Put the car in reverse, and slowly lift off the brake – ”
Either you have a different definition of slow, or this is going to be a lot harder than Flip thought, because his stomach is swooping up into his throat as you go speeding down the driveway, foot almost entirely off the pedal.
“Sorry!” You immediately slam on the brake, and Flip’s head smacks forwards against the dashboard, making you wince as your entire body tenses up, “I’m sorry, slowly, right got it, slowly.”
This should have been Flip’s second clue.
His patience manages to last for three entire minutes, before he just can’t take it anymore.
You’re out of the drive way now, having successfully avoided hitting the mailbox, and are now making right turns around the neighborhood, except that you really aren’t grasping how slow slow really is, and Flip’s seriously worried someone’s porch dog is going to be in major trouble.
“You have to slow down before you turn!” He grits his teeth, his foot instinctively pressing on a brake that isn’t there, and he wishes in the back of his head that he had rented one of those student driving cars as he fists a hand into his hair and bites the inside of his cheek, “Are your shoes filled with lead? What’s the matter with you? Who have you ever been in the car with that drives this fast?”
“You always speed like this!” You point out, but Flip doesn’t want to hear it.
“Yeah, on the highway! Not in a residential fuckin’ neighborhood – you know maybe that’s what you need, let’s get on the freeway, c’mon make a right here.” Flip instructs, and you let out an exasperated sigh and do as he says.
Ten minutes later, Flip is certain you’re going to drive him over a cliff, and it shows.
“Pull over – you know what, just fuckin’ – pull over. You don’t need to learn how to drive, okay? You don’t have to do anything from now on but sit there and look pretty, and eat some snacks. Okay?” He’s not shouting, not exactly, but his voice is raised with panic and irritation, patience completely gone out the window.
“Okay.” You reply, voice small, as you put on the flashers and hit the brakes, gravel flying everywhere underneath the tires as you pull onto the shoulder, away from the free-way.
Flip lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and rubs at a pounding headache that formed, as you get out of the car and begin to walk away. Confused and concerned, Flip immediately wrenches open the door of the car and follows you, his tension and panic giving way to an altogether different fear when he notices you wiping at your eyes.
“Are you crying?” Flip demands, his voice a little too harsh, and you wince from it.
“No.” You scowl at him, your eyes absolutely filled with tears that keep welling up, clinging to your lashes.
“Aw ketsl don’t cry – ”
“I’m not fucking crying.” You cry, before throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation and defeat, “Sorry I’m such a shitty unteachable terrible awful driver.”
Flip feels a dagger go through his chest, he doesn’t think he’s ever made you cry. Never, not once, in all the time he’s known you, and now here he is, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world, because he lost his temper.
Approaching you gently, Flip pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, kisses all over your face, at your cheeks and chin.
“Hey, no one said any of that.” He whispers, rubbing his cheek against yours, trying to get you to calm down.
“You didn’t have to.” You sound so glum, and he hates himself for it, because it’s his fault.
“Look at me?” Flip grabs your cheeks in between his hands, squishes them every so slightly as he looks you in the eye and says seriously, “You are a great person, with many, many talents. And driving…like anything it’s all about practice. That’s just what you need, some practice.”
“It was a stupid idea in the first place, I don’t know what the fuck I was even thinkin’.” You try to shake him off, but he’s stronger than you and won’t let you go that easily.
“You were thinkin’ that you’d like to be independent and I don’t blame you.” Flip realizes, chewing on his lip. It was the 1960s now, women were starting to drive in greater numbers and you wanted to be one of them, you didn’t want to be some helpless damsel not able to get herself around. As much as Flip wanted to be the fella to take care of you, he couldn’t fault you for wanting to take care of yourself, so he sighs out a gentle, “Let’s give it another go? Will you drive us back to my house?”
“’Kay.” You hear the sincerity in his voice, and you nod.
“That’s my girl.” Flip kisses away those unshed tears, and leads you back to the car, opening the driver’s door for you.
“If you yell at me again though, I’ll let go of the wheel and you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with it.” You threaten, and Flip only chuckles, not thinking you’d ever mean it.
~~~~~~~~
At the hospital, you sit on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. Flip gives it to you, and you pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the wedding band. Those days seem so far away now, and really, you are a good driver. You are.
“I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’m just worried about you. I always get worried when you show up at home bloody like that.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled, that was wrong of me.” Flip shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. God it really was a good thing you were pretty, wasn’t it?
“Think I just need a little more practice?” You crack a grin, biting at your lip and echoing a sentiment that he had shared years and years ago.
“Yeah, we’ll start with a couple right turns as soon as I’m free to go.” Flip replies, and you huff out a laugh.
“I hate you, you know that?” You kiss his ring again, rubbing your cheek against his palm.
“What was that? I couldn’t here you, come a little closer…” Flip’s hand cups your cheek, winds into your hair a little as he guides your face down down down to kiss him.
Eyes closing, you press your smiles together, knowing that when he’s discharged after his pain killers start to wear off, when you drive home it’ll be a far calmer affair.
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen
#flip zimmerman#flip zimmerman x reader#flip zimmerman/reader#flip zimmerman x you#adam driver fanfic#adcu#blackkklansman#flip zimmerman fanfic#flip zimmerman fluff#flip zimmerman imagine#Anonymous
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Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)
(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi. (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)
Chapter 2
Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.
Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!
You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem.
As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.
You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war.
As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower.
You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com.
“Welcome to Benghazi.”
_
The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap.
“How’s the team here?”
“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”
Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”
“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”
“You work with him before?”
“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”
Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb.
“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”
“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip.
Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”
Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look.
_
You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.
“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”
“Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”
You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake.
“Jack Silva”
You took his hand. “Y/N.”
He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”
“Just Y/N.” You affirmed.
As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned. Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close.
“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?”
You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.”
That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him.
“Alright. SEAL Team?”
“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”
“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.
“Pretty much.”
Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop.
“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation.
Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield.
“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?”
“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.
“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”
You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.
“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.
Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”
“This is Base, go Rone.”
“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”
“Copy that, sit tight.”
“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction.
You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.
Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”
Fuck this is bad.
“Base we ain’t got all day.”
“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”
Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”
“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.
“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”
“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly.
“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”
“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”
You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.
“It’s not my call, brother.”
Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.
Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.
“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.
You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.
“Welcome to Benghazi.”
The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man.
“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down.
The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.
“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.
Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman.
“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.
Rone shook his head. “No.”
“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.
Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.
Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”
The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack.
It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car.
“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”
Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight.
“Sees your face. We know who you are.”
Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.
“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”
Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.
“I want the car!”
Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.
“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.
The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.
“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far.
The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”
You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.
“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece.
“We don’t have any fucking support.”
#Tanto x Reader#Tanto/Reader#Tanto x Y/N#13 Hours#Pablo Schreiber#Tanto#Kris Paronto#Kris Paronto x Reader#Kris Paronto/Reader
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— week 21 with levi ackerman.
✧ tags. fluff (in the beginning?), angst, bad language, slight nsfw, & descriptions of blood, weapons, and character death 🧍🏻♀️
✧ more. zombie apocalypse AU b/c why not?
✧ notes. ‘tis a word vomit and i have no idea why — just me and my small love for zombie movies and aus, so here goes! enjoy !!!
“Stay.”
Levi grumbled at how your arm and leg kept him captive on the bed, his hand finding your thigh— as he rolled his eyes, feeling your lips pepper kisses onto his jaw, and he loved it.
“One minute,” Levi turned his head, capturing your chapped lips onto his, his thumb playing with the waistband of your underwear, as he winked at you.
You laughed onto his shoulder, kissing the spot below his ear as you snuggled closer, closing your eyes as you breathed in the morning, greeting it with minute long cuddle and few kisses that painted your nose and forehead from the man laying beside you.
“Time’s up,” Levi groaned, feeling your hold on him tightening as you refused to let him go.
Levi let you hold on a minute longer again, kissing your temple as he counted to the last ten seconds, with the last as a smack to your thigh while you yelped loudly, a scowl forming on your lips but Levi kissed it away with no fail. He smiled at your morning dilemma, his heart bursting as you followed him behind him, a stomp on your feet as Levi made his way towards the kitchen.
He has always loved making breakfast with and for you and with your grumpy state made it all better. His hands instinctually made its way towards the kettle, flipping the mugs as he made tea and your preferred drink for the day— as he knew it like the back of his hand, and one look at your face. His basis was the frown on your lips, and it all dissolves as the steam from the hot water hits your face in a welcome delight.
“What time do you have to go to work?” You asked, taking a bite of his toast as you passed by him, grabbing a slice of your own.
“In two hours,” he responded, taking your seat as you settled into your office space, a little desk that he has set up for you. “What time do you have to get to work?”
“Now,” you winked, making kissy faces at him as you opened your laptop— ready to start the day facing the screen.
Levi nodded, finishing his breakfast as quietly as he could while you talked to your client— camera off that’s why you twirled around on your chair, watching Levi with teasing eyes. He shook his head, a blush washing on his skin as he caught glimpse of your eyes— but he’s got enough self-control to not fall for them, kissing your forehead as he made his way to the bathroom to start and get ready for his work.
Every morning was like clockwork already— and by the time he has come out of the bathroom, he would see you making a homemade lunch, while you continued to talk, moving your hands animatedly. He settled again on the kitchen table, graciously accepting his second cup of tea from you while the minutes flew by until it was time for him to go.
With a hug and a kiss, you walked Levi to the door, covering the mic from your earphones as you confessed your daily love, leaving the stoic man a blushing mess as he walked out of the door, a paperbag on his hand as he drove to work.
The day went by slowly, his own clients calling him as he watched the hours go by. He checked his phone multiple times, a text from you from hours ago, and he bombarded you as much as he could hide his phone whenever his boss would walk by.
Then something unusual happened— like straight out of a fucking movie.
The tall ceilings didn’t rumble, the streets did. The building has got thick walls and windows, withstanding few rainy days but what it didn’t withstand was the shrilling screams of people running towards each other— out of the cars, out of the building doors, as they watched others with a scream cut short.
“What the fuck,” Levi mumbled to himself, pushing the chair away as his hand fumbled with the phone, his thumb clicking your contact number with a nervous tap. “What the actual fuck?”
No answer.
His coworker bumped into him, cursing them with his eyes as he clicked on the notification— a news article from his phone. He skimmed it, his eyes rereading the words: blood, humans, trial gone wrong, infection, and the infected.
“Are they filming down the street?” Levi asked, holding the shoulders of his colleague, his eyes piercing through them as they stuttered incoherently, but they only pushed Levi away with a tear down their cheek.
His phone vibrated— your caller ID flashing and he fumbled to accept and finally, his mind has come into peace as he heard your voice amidst the chaos down the street. He walked closer to the windows, seeing flashes of dark liquid that he refuses to acknowledge that was blood.
Levi listened to shrill screams on your phone, and color drained from his face as it all sounded the same. It was noisy, it was full of screaming— agony until the last second that it lasted. He couldn’t help but worry about you, his hands fumbling with anything to keep him grounded. He clutched his phone tighter as usual, hearing your voice and never wanting to let go of it, of you.
“Levi, where are you?” You asked, double-locking the car as people rammed into your car, but you held on to the phone with such urgency as you listened to the other line. “Are you safe?”
“What do you mean, ‘Am I safe?’” Levi walked towards his cubicle, turning his monitor on as his office turned into its own secluded chaos, “I’m at work. Where are you?”
“Going home, I went to grab some groceries,” you answered, ducking your head below as you made use of the tint on the car windows.
Some elderly man slammed on to your trunk, making the car shake as cars honked loudly.
“I thought you had work? It’s only been a few hours.”
“My client rescheduled their telerehab. So I went to the store.”
“Okay,” Levi nodded, breathing through his nose, “Okay, listen.”
“Do you know what’s happening?”
“Did you lock the doors?” Levi asked, avoiding your question.
“Yes, I always lock the door.”
“And how far away from you from the apartment?”
“Ten minutes.”
“You have to walk.”
“I’m not walking!” You gasped, looking at the backseat where a couple of grocery bags were sitting, “And I’m not leaving the car!”
“Darling-,”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” Levi raised his head, his eyes almost bulging from the updated news articles— and he really couldn’t believe his eyes.
The human trial from the nearby city had an outbreak. Their subjects resorting to death, but undead— zombified beings as infected blood ran through its course in their own bloodstream, affecting their brain and nervous system— paralyzed yet moving. Things— humans that doesn’t make sense.
Fucking zombies.
“You only call me darling when you are nervous.”
Levi arched his brow, breathing hard as he shut his monitor off. He looked down again, the streets covered in blood and bodies— and he backed away, the color from his already pale skin draining as he looked at the traffic block. It was going to take him an hour to usually get home— but with this mess, he has no idea if he could get there in a hour.
He wanted to go home.
“All right,” Levi breathed, his hold tightening on the phone, finally coming into terms with the movie-like situation. “Drive home. Carry whatever you think you will need inside the apartment. Grab the toolbox from the trunk. Get the food— anything essential inside.”
“You’re making me nervous,” you whispered, driving carefully away from the crowd as you took the longer route just to get home, “This whole thing is making me nervous.”
“Me too,” Levi murmured, grabbing his things from his cubicle as he grabbed whatever he could find that would be useful. “Don’t forget to lock the doors, do you hear me?”
“Lock the doors,” you repeated, driving a little faster as the roads were clear of any slosh of liquid and less bodies.
One mistake that you have done was stopping— the car coming into a halt as you watched the scene before you.
It was a little girl, her mouth dripping with her blood and mixed with whoever was dead on her hands. Her eyes were red, every vein dark underneath her dark skin, and stared right at your very being. With delicate steps, she moved closer, and you moved the car in reverse. But when she stood by your window, she slammed her hand on it, marking your window with her tiny hand.
Her handprint marked blood all over your car window— and you eyed at her victim. Perhaps her mother, as you guessed from the matching shirt. Her mother twitched— heavy and dark blood gushing out of her neck. She should’ve been dead, and should’ve stayed dead— but her fingers moved little by little, until she stayed upright, her eyes drilling into yours.
Every fiber of your body turned into dust, as you screamed, biting down on your hand as the little girl screamed with you, clawing her hand— but she couldn’t.
“What the fuck is happening?” Levi asked on the other line, his voice muffled as you dropped your phone. “Hey! Hey!”
“She was dead!” You screamed into the phone, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white, “She was dead and... she! There was blood everywhere... how is she alive?”
“Get out of there, darling,” Levi seethed at the situation, clenching his eyes shut as he focused on your voice, “Go!”
Finally, you gassed it, accelerating— feeling the car bump as you drove over the body, while you sweat for your very life. You placed the phone on loudspeaker, finding hope and solace through the curses of your significant other, focusing on his voice as it always calms you down. You counted his curses, finding a smile on your face and his new record of fifty bad words in a matter of minutes.
“Are you near the apartment?”
You nodded— agreeing a second later as the parking opened for you, and you held the phone near to your ear hoping it would close the distance between the two of you.
You wanted him home.
“I'm home already, get here now.”
“Good,” Levi ran down the stairs, towards the garage. He spotted his car, jumping on it instantly, “Wait for me.”
“Come home,” you sobbed, fumbling with the house keys as you opened the door— finding power to carry all the things in one go. “I love you. You have to come home, okay?”
“I love you,” Levi kissed you through the phone, an edge of a smile forming on his mouth as you chuckled-sobbed, “Don’t cry. Don’t go out, I’ll be home in a while.”
That was the last thing Levi has said to you.
His voice echoing in your memory, distant and near as you waited, and waited.
He didn’t make it home that day, and you waited for hours, until the suns changed and the moon waved for a new awful morning as screams made its way towards the quiet apartment. The moment that you hit home, you charged your phone, anything that will be used to communicate, even scrounging for Levi’s radio that he insisted on keeping, and with the mention of your beloved, your body shook in sobs as you tried to reattach yourself from what was happening as you waited for him.
You should have contacted him every minute and every hour— asking where the hell he is, but the mocking message of an unattended phone sang into your ears. Until all signal towers came down— no phone, no lines, no television, nothings. And all you could do was fucking wait, and you have waited too long that food has been stale for a while— days, weeks, months and you closed off from everybody. Yet, you didn’t move. The sofa has become your bed, a hand on the hilt of a knife as the other clutched the pillow while you slept in a shallow slumber— dreaming of when he would be home and what people have become.
The door and the carpet tainted red, your blood mixed with whoever tried to pried your door open. The handle was broken, and you repaired it as best as you could with Levi’s commanding voice echoing in your head.
Everything revolved around Levi— and you still wonder where he was.
Days, weeks, and months since he made that promise, and as each day goes by— it becomes ruined and broken, your life breaking down slowly as hope washed itself away, leaving you alone with nothing but a wish for him to still be there.
Another wish to whatever innocence is left within you and him.
The walkie-talkie became your friend— going on and off as you tried to catch a glimpse of whatever or whoever would be there to answer call, but nobody responded to the static buzz.
“I’m running out of water,” you coughed, counting ten small water bottles.
You were running out of everything as the long months drained your supplies.
And so you made a promise to yourself— get out of the apartment, find more food and water, and look for him.
If he couldn’t find his way to you— maybe it was best to find him yourself.
Week One: you started from scratch as you left the apartment. What you had was Levi’s large backpack which contained all your food, and water, a few pair of underwear and clothes, your dead phone, a wrench and a knife, and the walkie-talkie.
Week Two: you stayed in the car, a bad fucking move as an infected person broke your windshield, as they heard you crying. You ran them over— and it that makes them your second death.
Week Three: you saw an empty deli store. You went in— further and further into the back but the door opened and came a big dead man running but you placed a wrench on their big dead head.
Week Four: you were farther from the city. The signs becoming a maze to understand, words illegible as it was covered in blood.
Week Five: you passed by where Levi was working by. The car stopped, sputtering its last gas as you bid goodbye— but seeing Levi’s car, abandoned. With a heavy hand, you destroyed the window, seeing the keys stuck into the ignition as Levi’s briefcase collected dust on the backseat. There was no sign of him, as you left a note and a few tears as you broke down— biting down on your hand because you had to mourn in silence.
Week Six: you carried Levi’s briefcase for a week, but you left it as it became too heavy for you to carry. The only thing that you kept was the little pin on his briefcase— the one that he says that reminds him of you.
Week Seven: your shoes broke down, and comes your fourth death.
Week Eight: fifth death.
Week Nine: the winds grew a little colder, and you find shelter inside a car, the smell rotted as you later found a hand on the backseat.
Week Ten: you were tired, and comes the sixth victim.
Week Eleven: your mind was fucking with you, and you brushed it away.
Week Eleven: it was a dream— and that was the result of sleeping in a stupid store where mirrors all perfectly stood, every glimpse a fucking joke. A sick joke that is— because the mirrors reflected him.
Week Eleven: Levi’s here.
Levi crushed you into a hug, his hair somewhat long yet his face stayed smooth— a few mentions of stubble but it was him. His body felt so familiar that you found yourself curling for his warmth, for the security, for the home that he was.
Levi thought, he’s finally home. He’s found you.
Nobody spoke for a few minutes— unbelieving of what was happening. If you were alive. If he was alive. If that was you. If that was really him. The only thing that was said in those minutes were tears and quivering chins as Levi fumbled with his fingers— holding on to you as you pulled him close.
“Are you going to eat me?” You quietly asked, cupping his cheeks, as you checked his grounding eyes for any evident him.
“Stop with that,” Levi kissed your cheek, hugging you tight again.
His kiss felt like the sweet drops of wine, color finding its way towards the dark hues, as you leaned on his touch— tired yet there. The feelings that blossomed on your chest was huge, almost drowning you again into your sorrows but Levi pulled you back again, and it brought you to tears.
“I waited!” You suddenly cried, curling your knees to your chest as you felt Levi’s arms anchor you to reality, “I waited, Levi! You told me... you told me to wait and that you were coming home.”
“I know,” Levi breathed, cradling your head as you drove him to tears— making him shudder in regret and anger, but it all turned to smoke because you were there and so was he.
But everything felt flat— the hues darkening once more. Tough love— survival at the cost of one’s innocence, but it was there. Levi brought your face to his eyes as he looked for you somewhere deep within the months that you were alone and scared.
And you were still there, fleeting but there.
Love stayed the same while hope tarnished.
Joy pooled at your eyes— the very ones that he would look into, from the moment he would wake up in your bed with the light brushing your skin, and as he closed his eyes, a smile gracing your lips as the day ended. Fleeting but there.
Levi held your hand, carrying the bag as he guided you to his secured spot. He looked back and forth, breathing a little easier as he locked the doors behind him. It was a small family mart, aisles and racks empty with crusting blood and shredded skin, but safe.
In the morning, he woke up with your arms around him— just before. Just like that morning. His lips turned to yours as your very habit stayed the same, your voice carrying himself to agree with nothing but a kiss again on your lips. Levi found himself wrapping his leg around you, flushing you on his chest as he peppered kisses on to your nape while you chuckled softly— prying his arms.
“One minute,” Levi kissed your ear, nuzzling his cheek against your shoulder as you turned around in his embrace.
His grey eyes comforted you, carrying a hint of love and life while you allowed yourself to be hugged, relishing the way he feels after almost a year of him being gone and found again.
A year of it— and nobody spoke about what actually happened that night.
Infected. Infectious diseas. Blood. A human trial gone wrong.
Zombies— like the goddamn movies.
“Will you make me toast,” you whispered, asking him as you placed a hand over his chest— holding on to him and the memory of when it was good, like it was now.
“I believe what I only have are crackers,” Levi whispered in your ear, kissing your nose as your eyes fluttered open once more— and he took you in.
By the way your hair turned greasy, by the way the clothes on your back became ripped and drenched in dried blood, by the way your chapped morning lips stayed the same, by the way your face still contorts into his favorite smile.
“Has my darling turned cheap?”
“God.” Levi rolled his eyes, kissing your cheek numerous times as he finally caught on your dislike for the pet name.
“Now you understand how I feel when you call me darling?” You laughed, placing as much distance as Levi attacked you with tickles and kisses, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he breathily agreed.
Then, he stopped.
Bodies still tangled with each other— and you listened. Nothing was walking by the store, no slosh of liquid echoed into the empty street.
“Listen.” Levi murmured on your lips, his eyes closing as you saw him through the corners of your eyes— and you closed your eyes too, “Listen. This is my favorite part of my morning.”
After a few still minutes, your face lit up in tears, “Birds.”
“Don’t they sound beautiful?”
You opened your eyes to see him staring right at you, his eyes tired yet happy. Levi pushed away your tears, pecking your forehead.
That was the only time that you’ve realized that the tree beside your apartment housed a nest that Levi always prepared worms by the windowsill and that the birds always woke the both of you.
A new start— but this time after a broken heart, you were glad to start the day again with him.
Week Twelve: he always held your hand whenever the both of you would walk. His hand clutched yours that you even complained that it was too tight— but Levi would only kiss your palm and would loosen it.
Week Thirteen: Levi found an empty bodega, making the makeshift beds again, and he held you through the night as you cried, telling him the victims you have killed. That week marked your seventh kill.
Week Fourteen: he was drenched in blood because doesn’t want you to add another one to your list. Levi killed three instantly, and when you asked him how many has he killed, his eyes turned lifeless for a second, until he whispered— “Let’s not talk about it.”
Week Fifteen: you practiced with Levi as he gave you more effective tips to efficiently mark for the kill. He disagreed first, but he confessed later on that he was sick of it.
“I don’t want to kill one more,” he whispered into the dark as both of you listened to the loose footsteps outsides— daunting to add one more. Just one more. His hand found yours in the dark, turning his head to you as he pulled you to his side of the makeshift bed, whispering once more.
“I’ll take care of it,” and you marked the dead teenager as your eighth.
Week Sixteen: Levi found some tester bottles of perfume on clothes store— surprising you as it was the one that sits on your dresser, making you bawl into your hands as the scent brought back too many memories. He sprayed some on to his skin, making you even cry but he kissed your tears away— his eyes later turning into a shade darker.
His mouth found yours into a fervor that night, silent moans and groans echoing in the same bodega as Levi made love to you— and you him under the gaze of the daring moonlight, bodies moving slowly and sensual, hands finding each other, lips swollen as Levi kept you quiet with his own.
“Levi,” you moaned, feeling the coils of your stomach tighten— hips hitting together as his thrusts became lazy, his thumb finding your folds while you squealed.
“Be quiet,” Levi grunted against your mouth, his tongue grazing your lower lip as he held your hips down, watching you with hooded eyes with the way your back arch— face nodding.
“Fuck—,” you breathed, running your nails on his back as his thumb found your clit, driving you to oblivion as he felt your walls flutter around him. “Fu— Levi-,”
He lost himself, thrusting harder and deeper, listening to the lewd sloppy sounds as he felt your slick cover his length, groaning as your walls fluttered again— as his breathy voice moaned your name over and over again like a song that he would gladly sing over and over again.
Week Seventeen: Levi plucked a grass from in between the cracks of the sidewalk as he gave it to you. In return, you surprised him with a loose tea bag with lukewarm water and he accepted it happier than ever.
“I love you,” Levi murmured, cupping the thermos, bringing his lips to the edge for the first drink of his year that was made by you.
“Me or the tea?” You asked, munching on breakfast as you tilted your head to your partner with a teasing smile on your face.
Levi answered your question with an attack of kisses on your cheeks and neck— making you giggle until he held you steady with his hands on your waist, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him, breathing him in as he snuggled into the crook of your neck— your shirt becoming wet from each other’s tears.
Week Eighteen: you cut Levi’s hair, using a broken razor as he listed his instructions with his wavering voice as he looked right at you through the mirror. Levi admitted that it was the best haircut he has ever gotten, even when his bangs were choppy.
In return to find another space, comes your ninth.
Levi hesitated as the undead little girl that you saw from the day slowly walked over to him with a sinister smile. She marked as your tenth, and you mumbled a little prayer for the mother and the daughter that you have killed before and now.
In the evening, he held you close and dear, your shirt turning wet as he angrily cried but you only shushed him gently— “I’ll take care of it always.”
Week Nineteen: he turned to you in his sleep, fluttering his eyes open as you groggily reached for him. You kissed the sleep back on to him, giggling through the kisses as he tried to capture your lips with a failed mission.
On the last day, marks your eleventh kill.
Week Twenty: it was another sick fucking joke.
“Give me a minute.”
“Go.”
“Give me a fucking minute!”
Levi closed his mouth as his chest heaved heavily, his hands wrapping around his leg, unsuccessfully stopping the gush of blood that painted his skin and clothes dark red— and yet in whatever pain that he was in, he gave you a minute.
He has always given you a minute, spare— lots of it, but now he can’t risk it.
Not one spare second because he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
Levi watched you with careful eyes as you murmured to yourself, eyes closed as tears fell angrily at the corners of your eyes. He looked away, his eyes straining at the pain, and when he finally opened his eyes— he saw you looking straight at him with bright and hopeful eyes.
“We could... we could,” you stuttered, hands pressing into his wound to stop his breathing as Levi nodded, listening, “the best thing that we could do is cut your leg off.”
“It’s already in my bloodstream,” Levi whispered, the blood never stopped flowing no matter the pressure.
“You don’t know that,” you smiled— cried, wiping away your tears.
Levi shook his head. He breathed hard, inhaling and exhaling at the way his body turned into something sinister, watching his veins darken under his pale skin, but weakly pulled his sleeves down, as you watched closely. Your eyes were still filled with innocence— and after everything that you have been through, he wanted to preserve an ounce of it, for himself and for you.
That’s why you needed to go.
“Please,” Levi sighed, closing his eyes as he counted in his mind. Perhaps in a few seconds, the blood vessels in his eyes would pop, his sclera gone dark, “Please.”
The feeling of his warm hand covered yours and you pushed away the thoughts that came next as he heaved, controlling the minimal thrashing of his body. Levi nudged your chin, holding it form as he opened his eyes— and you tried to focus on how it looked like before.
Grey and nice, warm and soft, everything that you have loved, everything that he said, everything that was him— Levi.
“I want you to stand up,” Levi coughed, leaning on to the wall as you helped him. His hand found his spare gun and knife, as he pushed them to you gently. “I want you to get up. I want you to go.”
“You’re asking me the impossible,” you whispered, hand loosening from his wound as Levi blinked, his breath staggering.
“But it is for the best.”
“I can’t lose you,” you breathed, cupping his cheeks as you wiped away the tears— the blood that ran through his beautiful face. “Not again.”
“I know.”
Levi smiled, wiping his hand on his pants to clean them— as he ran his knuckles on the apple of your cheeks, one last time. He soothed the furrow between your brows, he cupped your cheek, making you lean for his touch as you kissed the inside of his wrist, murmuring against his touch.
“I can’t lose you.” You whispered, looking at his wound.
He pushed you to the wall at the moment it happened— the infected person crawling quietly as it sunk its teeth on Levi’s leg, making him topple over but he killed it in a second— all to save you.
“Levi, I can’t lose you,” you repeated quietly, chest shaking as tears clouded your eyes, “Not again!”
He screamed from the agony, his chest constricting whatever air was left in his body, holding himself close as he bit down on his hand as it washed through him. He pushed his weapons to you hard, making you stumble over as he watched your figure crawl away from him, inch by inch— and the hunger inside him fought its way towards his mind as he longed for the flesh and blood that rests perfectly on your body.
Yet, one thing stays the same.
His lips turned blue, as you watched him carefully, his mouth turning— whispering his very words that would make your heart skip a beat, be the reason for the unending adoration and devotion between the two of you.
“I love you,” Levi mouthed, his hands aimless around his body— no longer fighting whatever was inside him.
“I love you,” you cried, the tears falling freely as you found yourself standing to the other wall, feeling the cold cement hit your skin as your fingers fumbled with the gun and knife.
For whatever cruel reason, life has beaten the air out of you, your mind escaping its own as you chose— suffocating you, strangling the love out of you as you pocketed the knife.
Your whole body shook quietly— crying silently. The chest-heaving kind, where everything made it so fucking difficult for you to breathe, when you didn’t want anybody to know that you were bawling your eyes out, hands almost scarred from how hard you bit it down. Betrayal for the one that you truly love ran straight to your core— as you chose.
Levi smiled as his eyes became red— proud of how steady your arms were as you raised the gun— just like how he taught you. With the last ounce of life in his body, he professed his love for you one last time, and the farewell that mourned for himself, his fate, and for you. His memories clouded into colors that he hasn’t seen before, mundane things and memories with you, the way your lips would turn up at the sight of him, the way your eyes would convey such a deep message— deepest as the ocean as he would always compare.
He felt the air become static in his skin, feel his heart stop, feel everything stop. His eyes opened, seeing the hesitation in your hands but he has to do this, and he pushed you to save you. He saw his life with you— and he has to say goodbye one last time. Levi used whatever he could muster, as he whispered, hearing the shot echo in the cold room.
“Stay away.”
#my mind’s kinda wonky now#levi ackerman imagine#levi ackerman imagines#levi x reader#levi imagines#levi imagine#aot imagine#aot imagines#snk imagine#snk imagines#attack on titan image#attack on titan imagines#aot fanfiction
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THANKYOU!! for writing the hyunjin scenario it was amazing!! Your writing is really good. If it okay can you write about kimlip? Where she tries to prove that she's a better fuck than heejin? Thankyou again!!!
Thanks to @nsfwtwicecatcher for helping me with this.
“Ahh, it feels so good to be home.”
Jeon Heejin kicks off her shoes and runs inside the apartment, not bothering to unpack anything from your week-long vacation. You watch her cutely jump onto your bed, landing on her tummy and sprawling her entire body. Heejin was still a kid at heart, just one of the many things you loved about her.
“Babe, we have to do laundry and clean the house. We haven’t been home in awhile.” you said, sitting down next to her.
“Oppa, you’re no fun!” she pouted, puffing her cheeks at you.
“Come on, my little bunny. We’ll feel so much better after doing these chores. We can even lounge around everywhere and order in.” you said, pinching her soft stretchy cheeks.
“Hmph.” she said, fixing your hair. “But we’re going to do more than just lounge tonight.”
“Was spending almost the entire vacation in bed not enough for you?” you asked.
“No! You forgot our bubble tea and on top of that, you fucked that bitch Hyunjin in the rental car.” Heejin replied.
You leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips.
“I told you I was sorry, baby. Plus I’m pretty sure whatever anger you had, you used in the bedroom.”
Heejin smirked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you slowly and passionately as you two fell back onto the bed.
“Bunny loves when daddy compliments her.” she replied.
“You do? Well, daddy loves when his little bunny screams for him.” you said, kissing her harder.
Heejin laughed as she kissed you, holding onto your face.
“Why don’t I give daddy a preview of what’s to come tonight?” Heejin said, giving you a quick peck on the lips before slowly getting down on her knees on the side of the bed.
Heejin gave you the most seductive gaze as she unzipped your jeans and slipped them off you. Her hands were soft and warm, pulling your boxers down right after.
“Daddy’s already so hard for Heejin.” she said, smirking. She started slowly rubbing her face against your cock, you felt the edges of her nose and the softness of her lips press against you.
“Heejin…” you moaned as she slid her tongue from your balls all the way to the tip, covering you in saliva.
“Oh fuck…”
She teased your head, drawing circles around it with her tongue as she ran her puckered lips up and down your shaft. She made sure to draw out as much precum as she could. Doing her best to lick every surface possible, Heejin began leaving trails of saliva behind.
“Does daddy want Heejin’s mouth on his cock now?”
“P-Please.”
You instantly felt Heejin’s soft, wet lips wrap themselves around the tip of your cock.
“Ahh…” you moaned out as she sucked on your tip lightly and steadily.
Heejin tied her hair into a ponytail as she sucked your cock, knowing you were going to facefuck her. The moment she finished, you held onto it with one hand and her jaw with the other as you began thrusting your cock into her mouth, feeling it touch the back of her throat as her saliva slowly dripped down onto your balls. Unlike with Hyejoo or Yerim, Heejin has given you so many blowjobs that she no longer had a gag reflex.
You wanted to do the laundry and unpack your suitcases, but Heejin sucking your cock was well worth the wait.
You woke up the next morning alone. Still sore from Heejin’s insatiable libido, you groggily rubbed your eyes and checked your phone. How Heejin had the energy to get up and leave before you was something you will never understand.
“Hi, Baby! I’m still sore from how hard you fucked me. Anyways, I’m sorry we couldn’t spend the morning together. Had to pick up a shift at the restaurant since Jiwoo unnie called out. Hope you enjoy your day off! I love you.”
As you smiled rereading Heejin’s text, another one popped up on your screen.
“Hey, oppa! It’s been awhile. Hope you and Heejin are doing good! Anyways if you’re not too busy, do you think you can swing by my art studio? I wanted to show you some of the photos I’ve taken before anyone else sees. Call me back whenever you can!”
Letting her know you’d be able to make it, you do morning stretches and get out of bed.
Twenty minutes later, you were outside an intimate looking building sandwiched in between apartment complexes. It looked out of place: the shiny, modern buildings contrasted the antique, slightly worn down look of the studio. You stood outside, checking your watch every few seconds.
“Oppa!”
Turning around, you were met with a beautiful smile. Her milky skin and sharp features complemented her natural beauty. She instantly brought you in for a hug.
“Hi, Jungeun.”
“Let me show you around.” she said after leaving your embrace.
The walls were lined with photos that she took during her various travels. She was rarely around, having her in the country for a month was already considered a miracle. But she made sure to keep the group chat updated with photos and videos of her wherever she went.
“So, oppa.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you know why I called you here?”
“Wasn’t it to show me this art studio? Because it looks really nice.”
You scanned the photos, smiling at a photo of you and the rest of the group. One of the very first times you all got together, you missed moments like those since everyone seemed to be doing their own thing now. You observe the walls until your hand brushes against a white, logoless remote.
“Jungeun, what is this?” you asked, holding it in your hand to show her.
“Oppa, wai-” Her eyes widened as she suddenly jumped in surprise after you pressed a button.
“Jungeun, are you okay?”
“Y-Yes, oppaaa…” she managed to gasp out of her throat as she felt a sudden vibration flow through her body.
You look at her suddenly weak expression - beads of perspiration on her forehead begin to form as you realize what you are holding in your hand.
“Jungeun…”
“Shh, oppa. I wore it, just for you.” she said, placing a finger on your lips before smiling at you naughtily and biting her lower lip.
You pressed another button on the remote, watching her eyes slowly roll to the back of her head as her facial expression transitioned once more. She let out a moan, clenching her teeth before holding onto your arm for support. Pushing the button once more, Jungeun moaned loudly.
“Oppa, stop! Please… I’m still sensitive.” she cried.
“The girls told me how good in bed you are. I figured it would be my turn to show you I’m a better fuck than all of them. Especially that bratty girlfriend of yours Heejin.”
You raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by Jungeun’s straightforwardness. Her seductive smile deepens as you slowly approach her, running your hand under her dress. Her thighs were smooth, creamy and began forming goosebumps once your cold hand inspected every inch of them.
“And what makes you think I would want to sleep with you, miss Jungeun?”
“Look at me, I’m hot. Although I admit, Yerim is much prettier than I am sometimes. Just sometimes. Plus, you need a woman to satisfy you. Not that child Jeon Heejin.”
“Jungeun, you’re only about a year older than her…”
“Oppa! It’s a year and 8 months, thank you very much!” She whined, pulling your body closer to hers. You pressed the button on the remote control again as your hand cupped between her thighs, unsurprised that she was not wearing any underwear. You felt the heat radiating from her, hearing Jungeun moan as the tingling sensation of the vibrator inside her pulsed on your hand. She was already so wet from less than a few minutes of you activating it.
“Such an elegant looking beauty being so naughty…” you said to her.
“Jungeun wants daddy to know she’s a bad girl…” she said, smiling as she began planting soft kisses on your lips.
“It’s a good thing daddy’s ready to go then…” you said, pressing the button once more causing Jungeun’s mouth to open as she moans.
Disconnecting your lips from each other, Jungeun presses her forehead against yours. Both of you struggle to catch your breaths before she takes your hand and leads you into a hidden room. Jungeun’s studio was spacious, a well-designed modern space that was filled with various photos and memories from her travels. The large windows provided plenty of natural lighting, but would also give anyone who viewed inside a good view of what was going on.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungeun asked as she held her hand up and showed you her displays.
“It really is.” you said, although your attention was fully focused on Jungeun’s soft features being reflected on the window.
She smiled, slightly blushing as she knew you were talking about her.
The soft, pink cherry blossom designed dress hugged her body perfectly as she turned around. Jungeun’s face was one of the things you found most beautiful about her, almost akin to the various photos and artworks she has that decorate the walls.
Jungeun reverses backwards, still holding your hand until she feels her back softly hit the window. You bring your hand up and gently rub her cheeks, causing her to nuzzle her face against your palm. Both of you smiled as you inhaled the intoxicating aroma of her perfume.
She looks up at you and you become enamored by her hauntingly beautiful gaze. Leaning down, Jungeun raises her head until your noses touch, causing both of you to giggle. Lingering for a few seconds, you noticed her bright red lips, seeing her lick them in anticipation before you two begin kissing, your lips coming together as her straightforwardness and the sexual tension that quickly developed between you two is finally being released.
You feel her long, thin arms wrap themselves around your neck as you press your body forwards towards her. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you are happy to discover she is not wearing any form of upper undergarment when your hands roam her back. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth, causing you to be surprised slightly. Heejin and Sooyoung told you Jungeun had become more daring ever since her time overseas, but this was not what you were expecting.
As you continue to explore each other’s mouths, Jungeun’s fingers find their way to your belt, loosening them quickly.
“I bet you haven’t experienced something like this before, daddy.” she said, her eyes filled with lust once she breaks the kiss and looks at you.
Jungeun quickly lowers herself onto her knees, grabbing the belt loops of your slacks and dragging them down along with her. Tugging your pants that were on your ankles, she grabs them and tosses them into a random corner of the room.
“Jungeun, you’re not the first girl to give me a blowjob.” you said, slightly laughing.
You felt your boxers be removed seconds later, your cock fully exposed in front of her. She licks her lips, wetting them in preparation for her next act.
“While that’s true, I meant you haven’t experienced getting one when anyone passing by can see us.” she said.
Before you could reply, you let out a soft moan as she uses her soft, delicate fingers and wraps them around your almost fully erect cock. Her tongue gives you small, wet licks from the base of your shaft until your tip. She giggles when she feels you are truly hard for her. She pumps your shaft several times in a painfully slow manner. She gathers spit from deep inside her throat, releasing it onto the tip of your cock. Making sure you were fully lubricated, Jungeun takes you inside her mouth.
You looked down and admired the beautiful young woman on her knees with your cock inside her warm, wet mouth. She giggled as she sucked on your tip.
“Daddy likes when his little Jungeun sucks his cock, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, fuck…” you moaned as she strokes you while continuing to take your cock into her mouth.
While Jungeun bobs her head up and down, you do your best to look outside. Knowing you would cum right away if you continued to look down at her, you noticed that the outside street was relatively empty. You were thankful. Although it slightly turned you on knowing someone could see Jungeun giving you head, it was still relatively early in the morning. But here you were, getting a blowjob from one of the many beautiful women you know. You always admired her beauty and gave her small compliments here and there, but there was something equally alluring about Kim Jungeun being on her knees in front of you: her rich, chestnut hair bobbing up and down.
You ran your fingers through her beautiful, slightly damp hair.
“Good girl.” you encouraged her, causing her to smile at you with her eyes as she continued sucking your cock. Gently guiding her head into a comfortable rhythm, you watched the various cars pass by. There’s no way they weren’t aware of what was going on inside Jungeun’s studio.
“Baby, stop.” you said, slowly withdrawing Jungeun’s head from your cock. She releases you with a loud pop, her beautifully shiny eyes looking up at you as she gives you a cute pout that can be comparable to Heejin’s.
“Daddy wants to fuck you now.” you continued, as you lowered yourself onto the floor and joined her. She smiles at you sweetly before straddling your lap and sitting on your thighs. Holding onto her waist to steady her, you grab onto the ends of her dress and raise it upwards. Jungeun closes her eyes in satisfaction as she raises her long limbs and allows you to remove the confining piece of clothing from her beautiful body. She was petite like Heejin, but was top two in naked bodies - along with Yerim. You wouldn’t dare say that out loud, knowing Heejin would smile at you and put your cock in a chastity belt if she found out.
Kissing you once more, you feel every ounce of her desire and lust with each connection. You savor her sweet lips, her lipstick having the faintest taste of strawberries. She tears her lips away from yours, giving you quick pecks before creating a trail on your neck. Regretfully removing herself once more, she goes to your right ear, blowing hot air that sends shivers down your spine.
“I want daddy to fuck me.” she says in a sensual whisper.
Jungeun returns to planting soft kisses on your neck and jaw as you admire the beautiful woman on your lap in front of a large window in broad daylight. She was extremely wet, her pussy juices staining your thighs as you guided her while she rubbed her crotch up and down yours.
You bring your hands upwards as her small, perky breasts are in front of you. Heejin was slightly bigger, but Jungeun’s felt a lot softer. You cupped them both, your thumbs playing with her rapidly hardening nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips as you moved your head up and took her left nipple inside your mouth. Your tongue moved up and down rapidly as you savored her sensitive buds. Most of the women you’ve slept with had pink nipples, so it was refreshing to find out Jungeun’s were darker. While you continue sucking on her left breast, your hand does not leave her other one unattended as you take her right nipple into your fingertips. As you stimulate Jungeun, you feel her wet crotch and thighs continue to dampen yours as she grinds herself on your cock.
“Come ride daddy, Jungeun.” you said to her once you tear your mouth away from her chest. Her hair is now damp, her eyes filled with the look of a woman who needed to be satisfied. She reaches behind her and finds your cock, stroking it several times and applying her pussy juices as a lubricant. Once she ensured you were thoroughly covered, she squats her body slightly above yours. Taking your cock in between her gentle fingers, she lines up your crotches together. You feel only the head of your cock penetrating her tight walls, as she spreads her legs open and allows you inside. Soft sensations of pleasure can be felt before Jungeun suddenly lowers her hips and takes all of you inside her body.
You both moaned in satisfaction, the frivolous foreplay a good build up but could never compare to the feeling of the first penetration of a new partner. Jungeun was ridiculously tight, probably the tightest woman you’ve ever been inside. The muscles of her pussy squeezing your cock in a mix of pain and pleasure the moment you enter her.
“Oh fuck, daddy…” Jungeun moans out when you are fully inside her. You assume she is giving herself time to adjust to your size before she begins raising her hips and withdrawing your cock from her body until only your tip is left before slamming her body back downwards again.
There was nothing better than your cock being inside a woman’s pussy. Heejin was a fierce competitor when it came to being tight, hot and wet - but Jungeun was in a class all her own. Perhaps it was because you’ve never actually slept with her. It could also be because you only had Heejin on your mind constantly that her friends throwing themselves at you made them feel even better. Or, it could just be your inner desires to savor the feeling of being intimate with someone that wasn’t your own girlfriend. Whatever the case may be, Jungeun was tight, her pussy having a tight vice grip on your cock as it entered and exited her body. You believe she could very well be the tightest woman you’ve fucked so far.
“Fuck! Yes, daddy…” Jungeun cried as she bounced up and down your cock, grinding herself on you while circling her hips left to right simultaneously. “You feel so fucking big, daddy. Ahh!”
The wet sounds coming from your bodies being connected is something you will never get tired of. Jungeun bounces up and down your lap, her long thin limbs firmly pushing her weight onto your chest as she rides you. Heejin was a gym rat, always wanting to keep her body toned for herself, but equally for you. You noticed Jungeun was the same, usually eating vegetables or foods that conformed to her strict dietary regimen from the few interactions you had with her whenever she was in town. You admired her cute thighs as they slammed repeatedly against yours.
You were on your back against the window, unable to see if anyone was watching you fuck the beautiful woman who owned the art studio. Jungeun didn’t care about her surroundings, throwing her head back as you hear long drawn out moans become incoherent syllables as she surrenders herself to pleasure and her desires. Repeatedly fucking herself on your cock, you feel every muscle in her pussy tighten as it builds up pleasure between the two of you.
You never really imagined Kim Jungeun had this side of her - a woman who has a lot of respect for herself and would not be intimate unless she was sure about them. But here she was, happily bouncing up and down your cock as you gave her what she wanted.
“Daddy’s cock feels so good inside me… Do you like fucking my tight pussy?”
“Fuck yes, Jungeun…” you said, a tightness forming in your chest as her hands continue to be firmly planted.
You have never been with a woman whose pussy is this tight. It helps you discover a new craving, you want Jungeun to ride you until you cum inside her, holding onto her hips before slamming them down as you fill her. But you had to teach her a lesson. No one got away with badmouthing your girlfriend Jeon Heejin without a lust filled pounding.
“Jungeun, stop.” you said, causing her to instantly stop bouncing on your cock. As she catches her breath, you notice her flushed expression. Her body is now covered in sweat, her facial expression showing you she is slightly surprised at your request.
Jungeun whines as you slowly withdraw her body from your cock, wanting you to still be inside her. As you bring yourself upwards, you bring her along with you until you are both standing. As her chest heaves while she catches her breath, you turn her around until her body is pressed against the glass window. With your cock that is now coated in her juices, you enter her tight body once more.
“Fuck, daddy!” Jungeun shouted as you were in control while fucking her. You secretly hoped someone would pass by and watching you fuck your girlfriend’s friend. Not that either of you would stop if they did, the thought of being watched would turn you on even more than you already were.
“You’re so beautiful, Jungeun… and tight.” you said as you thrusted inside her pussy. You wanted to get revenge, show her that you wouldn’t be satisfied with her thinking she was better than your girlfriend.
Lustful sounds escape her lips as you continued pressing her body against the glass while roughly fucking her.
“Shut up daddy and fuck me!” she screamed.
You smacked her ass, hard. In this new position, Jungeun was even tighter than before. Her soft, small round ass reverberated against your torso as each thrust of your cock caused her to moan. You held onto her one of her hips while continuing to slap her ass.
“You don’t tell daddy what to do! Especially when you said not nice things about my girlfriend.”
Another loud slap can be heard as Jungeun cries from pleasure.
“Are you seriously getting wet from me slapping you? You’re behaving like such a slut right now!”
“I’m not a slut, daddy! I just want you to realize I’m tighter than that slut bunny Heejin!”
You slap her ass once more as you continued fucking Kim Jungeun. Throwing her head back once more, her drenched hair flies everywhere as you held her thin waist and pushed it back towards you. You wanted to be deeper inside her, make her feel all of you. Her wet body and natural aroma during sex turned you on even more. The friction between your bodies further accentuated the sinful act.
Jungeun’s tight pussy was making you dangerously close to your orgasm. While you continued fucking her, she tried unsuccessfully to try and grip onto something from the pleasure you were giving her.
“Jungeun, daddy’s about to cum. I can’-”
“I’m cumming too! Don’t you dare pull out, daddy.” she said, the soft stream of moans and tones of pleasure escaping her lust filled mouth. “Daddy… I’m cumming!”
Jungeun’s body shakes violently as the pleasure completely consumes her and she erupts in an orgasm. Her pussy contracted and pulses around your cock as you continued to thrust. The pain from how tight she is is beginning to be slightly unbearable, but you managed to fuck her through it as her pussy allows you to enter her even easier.
“Daddy’s close, Jungeun.”
“Cum inside me, daddy. Fill your naughty slut up.” she said, her voice gradually weakening in tone and volume.
You thrusted deeper and deeper inside her pussy, her body being pushed against the window. Your repeated thrusts inside Jungeun trigger another orgasm for her as yours finally arrives. Both of you enter a euphoric high as you climax at the same time.
Gripping onto Jungeun’s hips, you thrust inside her one last time as deep as you could. Hot, thick semen releases from your cock as it enters her pussy. You fuck her with several short, quick thrusts as you prolong the pleasure you two are currently feeling.
You unconsciously wanted to stay inside her for as long as you could. The two of you could not overcome natural biology however, as your energy is depleted and you guide her onto the cold wooden floor. You managed to be still inside her, perhaps her pussy refused to let you go. Whatever the case may be, you were thankful that your bodies didn’t disconnect.
Heavy breathing and your chest pressing against her sweaty back are all you can feel as you both slowly begin the recovery from the intense sexual activity that just occurred. Jungeun tilts her head slightly so that she is facing you, causing you to tuck the damp strands of hair clinging to her face behind her cute ears.
She gives you a fatigue filled giggle as you both smile at each other. You lean forward and give her a kiss. While not as passionate as when you began, it was filled with emotion. You gave Jungeun a kiss filled with love. Being the one to break the kiss, you opened your eyes and saw her smiling softly at you once more.
“Daddy… that was… so intense…” Jungeun breathed out.
You smiled, capturing her lips once more as you were finally able to withdraw your cock from her. Jungeun moans as she feels you exit her, a stream of liquid beginning to flow out of her flushed thighs and freshly fucked pussy. You stretched your right arm out so that she could be facing you, Jungeun instantly cuddling you. Your hands roamed her lower body, gently massaging her butt. There was nothing more beautiful than the afterglow of a woman after sex. Jungeun’s natural beauty felt almost angelic, the large window that provided plenty of natural lighting allowing you to see her positively radiating.
A satisfied breath escaped her lips, letting you know just how good you made her feel.
“Oppa, I haven’t been fucked like that in… Fuck, I don’t know how long. You were amazing.” Jungeun said. “No wonder Heejin wants to keep you all for herself.”
“You were pretty good yourself, Jungeun. I haven’t fucked a pussy that tight in so long.” you said, laughing.
“I’m yours whenever you want me.” she said, giving you a tender kiss on the lips.
“Whenever that slut Heejin’s pussy can’t satisfy you, call me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said.
“I guess we should clean up, right? You came so much inside me.” she said, slowly struggling to stand up.
She extends her hand out, offering to help you up. As you pull her back towards you, she begins giggling as you shower her with kisses.
“Oppa, stop! We have to clean up.” she whines, laughing as she unsuccessfully tries to escape your hold.
“You’re going to let oppa leave right away?” you said, pretending to be hurt.
“No silly, I really did want to show you my artwork and the fun stuff I’ve been working on. But…” she said.
“Daddy’s getting hard again... and luckily my studio does have a shower and kitchen.” Jungeun continued, slowly stroking your cock to full erection.
“Why don’t we clean ourselves up in the shower and you make us something to eat?” she said, kissing you once more.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And this time… you can fuck me in my ass. I’m sure Heejin’s never let you do that before.”
She continues having a firm grip on your cock before leading you into the studio’s bathroom.
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Who is in Control? - Part 2
A/N: Unedited smut because ya girl is ALWAYS thirsty for Henry Cavill. 🔥🔥🔥 Catch up on Part 1 HERE! Masterlist
August Walker x Reader
Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!
Word Count: 2570k
Warnings: dirty filthy CONSENSUAL smut, language (Just don’t scroll past the cut if you don’t want to read smut)
******************************************
“FUCK!” Ethan slammed his hands abruptly on the table. “Damnit, we missed him. He’s gone.”
“We’ve searched nearly every smelly crevice London has to offer. We were so damn close!”
“Lane’s gotta be with him. If we hurry, we can still sniff out his tracks.”
Ethan eyed Y/N suspiciously; “Think Y/N. Where would he go next?”
Y/N scanned through every memory she could muster. Her frontal lobe throbbed as she rubbed the spot aggressively.
“Hazlitt’s! That’s where we’d go.”
“You sure?”
“I know it. 100%”
“Why there?”
“I’d read to him when we were in bed together. Hazlitt’s is a hotel. He surprised me when he actually listened one night. I was reading an autobiography about essayist William Hazlitt. He was the one to find out William had died there. My morbid curiosity found his gesture macabre yet sweet. It was his way of showing he’d cared without saying anything at all. And before you say anything ridiculing, don’t.”
“Shit, what the hell did you do to him? No wonder he’s on a damn rampage.”
Dryly chuckling, Y/N didn’t quite know how to follow up, fumbling over her fucked up feelings once again.
“It was our place where we could just be ourselves. Away from the world and constant bloodshed. No alterative motives, no plan of action, just us. If he’s as heartbroken as he’s letting on, I bet that’s where we’ll find him. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy a trip down memory lane, hm?”
“I underestimated you, Y/N. Fucking the information out of him AND tricking him into thinking it was love. You’re a fucking genius.”
She coldly glared at him, her mind already two steps ahead of Hunt pissing him off to no end.
“Seriously. When did it stop being a mission?”
“The SAC told me to keep an eye on him, make sure he stayed in line under a watchful eye. They teamed us together as an experiment. I can’t pinpoint when, it just happened Ethan. I mean we’ve worked side by side in the field for three years! THREE YEARS.”
“He’s scared of you. You’re his one weak link.”
She mulled his comment over. It was a truth she wasn’t quite ready to admit. Yes, she wanted to make him hurt but killing him was an entirely different story. She prayed her strength was hiding, just waiting to surface when called upon.
“Clock’s running. Let’s go.”
So, Y/N followed him through a skinny corridor alley getting to the car at an inhumanely speed.
----------
Ethan and Y/N surveyed the perimeter looking for an obtainable entrance point. The dumbfounded clerk had confirmed a Mr. Patrick Bateman checking in. Taking after his favorite character, Y/N knew what room they’d find him in. His impeccable taste for detail consistently blew her away. Room 916. No doubt in her mind. The day they met, or as he likes to better describe; the first time he ever felt noticed.
“Let me go in first. Try and reason with him.”
Irritation came off him in waves crashing nonverbally disagreeing with Y/N.
“Too dangerous. This isn’t negotiable.”
Undermining his own words Y/N spoke; “I’m not asking for permission, I’m telling.”
Just then, the door swung open, Y/N sauntered towards a seeable back exit adjacent from Hunt’s point of sight. Walls bare of color and life lined the narrow hallway. The dimness bordered into eerie. An unknown sound skyrocketed her frenzied nerves. 913…914…915…
The garish gold numbers stood conspicuously still. Invisible weights kept her place. A knock resonated off the white dilapidated door.
Nothing. No response, not a sense of movement. Can’t fool me that easily Walker.
“I know you’re there—watching me through that stupid peephole wondering what in the literal hell I’m doing here.”
A chain clanged loose as the door astutely opened. Never had she met a man as devilishly handsome before. Towering over her 5ft7 frame, he smirked.
“Don’t give me that look. We need to talk.”
August didn’t flinch a muscle remaining inaudible. All of a sudden enigmatic emptiness consumed her.
“By all means, please come in.”
Good to see his charm and charisma hadn’t yet abandoned him.
“We both know you didn’t come alone. How long I do we have?”
“15 minutes, maybe 20 if you’re lucky. And I dare say luck isn’t on your side today. Why did you leave?”
“Getting straight to the point then my love?”
“Don’t give me that shit, Walker. I’m seriously not in the mood.”
The air conditioner hummed in the background forcing goosebumps to prickle her skin. An unexplainable chill drifted around them; a veiled noose of destruction lingering just out of sight. Y/N walked towards the window gazing up at the luminated stars.
She’d always been fond of constellations and their profound mark on the universe. Heavy footsteps followed making their way to her. His breathe tickled along her collarbone standing mere inches away. His hands reached for hers interlacing their fingers placing a wet kiss to the exposed column of her neck.
“How far are you prepared to go?”
Her neck slanted at him in childish annoyance.
Y/N snorted; “I will go further than you. However, many weapons you’re willing to bring, I’ll bring more. However low you will go; you will never dig deeper than me. I will win, because what this will cost me in pain, I will pay. My resources are limitless, I will always outbid you, and I will never, ever back down. Am I clear?”
The seriousness in her tone amused him giggling quietly. His rebuttal was quick and brash.
“You must seriously hate the person underneath that attractive flesh of yours.”
“Already to the petty part of the evening? Always a sour puss, Auggie.”
Closing the space between them, August pinned his upper body to Y/N’s back. Her head landed powerfully on his shoulder; his fingers brushed her pulse point teasingly.
“Neither of us are getting out alive darling. Have you paid your penance? Shall we be rejoined in the afterlife or reign in hell? I do wonder.”
Ignoring him Y/N pressed further; “Where’s the plutonium? Death is but a ploy of distraction.”
“Clever girl. Reverse psychology won’t work on me, Y/N. Try again.”
His right hand wrapped entirely around her delicate neck into a light chokehold securing her in place.
A hushed rough voice similar to a forgotten whisper slipped through; “You’re the one who has to live with your choice. Everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will.”
His left hand stroked the button of her jeans undoing them in record time. The zipper was the next offensive item to go before he shoved her pants around her wobbly knees. Paralyzed in fear, Y/N didn’t risk moving a single muscle.
“Do you want me to fuck you? Here, now, pressed against this chilled glass, exposed for the whole world? I’ll gamble just one glance from a stranger down below will get your rocks off.”
His next words terrified her; “Only I can make you feel this alive. Tell me I’m wrong.”
She fought the searing intrusion growing between her thighs. He spoke directly to her reflection like he was talking to a ghost.
A concoction of pants and grunts were the only distinguishable noise escaping Y/N. August’s hand slithered underneath her blouse groping her covered breasts. Still she didn’t move to stop him. She was putty in his glorious hands ready to be molded into whatever he needed or craved. immersed terror sent a jolt of unexplainable excitement to her core.
Y/N cowered ashamed of her body’s biological reaction. But something in her brain told her to let him see the demon hiding in plain sight. Suddenly, Y/N reached back fisting the hair along his neck and pulled, hard.
Her behavior shifted on the cusp of absurdity. The ruthless killer long submerged had finally met her match, someone just as vile as she believed herself to be.
“You’re not the only cold-blooded asshole in the world. Hate to burst your villainous bubble.”
“I know, my darling. I’ve waited so patiently to see you in this darkened light of misery. After this, you won’t be able to go back to work without seeing every speckle of shit sprinkled before your eyes. CIA, FBI, MI6, they’re over and you my dear play a dear role in their long-awaited demise. Once you cross this line, which you undoubtfully will, Agent Y/N is dead.”
August swept her hair to one side nipping a trail along her collarbone. Her blood pressure steadied showing him she was calm, in control, and spontaneously impulsive.
Gauging his reaction, Y/N leaned into August; “I know. You’re my Hades and I’m the beloved Persephone. We’re written in destiny, baby. You and me.”
Her voice expressed a detached, cunning, and malevolent mischief. Her words made his skin crawl and cock harden. She was truly magnificent.
“Did you know that I’ve dreamt of your blood spilling while I fucked you raw? Holding a silver tipped blade on that very neck of yours, watching the fear grow as I rode you like a wild stallion. There’s no more denying the predatory urges I desire with you, for you....to you. We could have the world at our finger tips, Auggie. Quite frankly, you don’t scare me a bit and it pisses you off.”
August bit down sinking his teeth into her peachy flesh leaving a crimson imprint in his wake. Y/N yelped; her underwear flooded with moisture. Her feet wobbled closer to the glass as August shoved her forward. With her breasts pressed against the window, she heard the fasten of his zipper undo. Her nipples hardened in response. August’s dick pressed vigorously into her ass cheeks hitting every spot but the one she wanted. A feral growl betrayed her as she pushed back in resistance.
“Mmhm, who’s the horny one now?”
“I’ve grown familiar with villains that live in my bed…”
The lace grazing her hips snapped painfully watching her panties fall to the floor.
“Ouch! Easy asshole.”
“Vile words from such a pretty mouth. Obviously, there’s lessons to still be achieved with you yet.”
“You foolish brute. You should be thanking me for covering your tracks, saving that scrumptious ass of yours. Oh, my pet…when you will realize you are the one at my disposal now?”
Finally, skin to skin August lined up with her entrance. His tip rubbed teasingly against her parted folds pushing in a few inches. His shallow thrusts only spurred her on. He didn’t dare let up on the vice grip of her hips. An unnaturally strained whimper strangled the surrounding room. Pre cum leaked from the tip stirring the aching in their bellies.
“You have no idea how disturbingly gratifying it is to have found an equal, a partner of sorts with a taste for blood and sadism.”
His mocking grew old quickly as his hands continued their firm hold.
“We put Bonnie and Clyde to shame. Pathetic for running, idiotically oblivious to their own demise that lot. They didn’t appreciate the art of murder. The true pleasure of control. No room for impulse or error. Unappreciative of valuing a method to morbid madness.”
Without a word, he sunk in Y/N in one quick push. Her hands jutted out leaving imprints along the steamed window.
“Ah, fuck Auggie.”
Again, August snapped forwards unrelenting in his cruel pace. Y/N met him each and every movement in their ferocious dance of dominance. She squeezed her pelvic muscles painstakingly tight around his cock. August’s eyes rolled to the back of his head attempting to picture anything to keep him from busting that very second.
“Hunt will be arriving soon. We can run, start anew, create chaos elsewhere without any government supervision. Say the word and I’m yours.”
Y/N barely made out his panted speech due to the pounding of blood running through her ear canals crashing like waves. She was too turned on, too lost left unable to process what August was offering instead moaning raucously loud.
Slapping of skin resonated as their ends soon approached desiring nothing more than to cum. His balls slapped against her as his cum dribbled down her inner thighs. He rammed harder causing Y/N to stumble remaining deep inside her. August halted all movements finding a pair of sapphire eyes staring into his. Y/N shifted her hips in hopes of resume.
“Fucking move, Walker. I want to cum.”
“What’s your decision; orgasm or death?”
Silence stilled; August’s patience was disappearing at an alarming rate. He rutted upwards into her forcing an exhale from her lungs.
“You embarrass yourself with the question if you didn’t already know the answer.”
Anger blinded him compelling him to rip her face towards him. In his moment of rage, August thrusted powerfully reading her body like the back of his hand. She was on the cusp of orgasming and he took full advantage of that knowledge.
Barely a whisper graced his ears; “Yes, forever yes.”
Her pussy constricted pulling him in deeper than ever before as they fucked like wild animals. Taking whatever offered succumbing closer to orgasmic ecstasy.
“Good girl.”
August stiffened bending Y/N at the waist driving violently into her dripping cunt. Not more than four thrusts later, August tensed feeling Y/N constrict around his length sending a shiver down his spine. Breathy grunts could be heard through the walls as he filled her with his sticky cum. She devoured every drop placing her hands on his ass keeping him in place at her sweet spot. Her orgasm overtook her like a summer thunderstorm on a midnight sky.
She quivered speechless as she surrendered to his touch. This breath tickled the back of her glistening neck. Hot white emission gushed out of him painting a mural in her womb. They didn’t move from their current predicament still coming down from their highs. All too soon, August removed himself tucking himself back into his pants. Y/N stayed in place untrusting of her jelly legs.
“Shit, I needed that.” A tiny queef escaped her now drenched lips watching in awe as small spurts of his juice ran down her legs like raindrops. She swiped a finger against the white liquid sucking it dry. August felt his cock twitch in his pants wanting to fuck her all over again.
“We need to get out of here now.” Tossing her a towel, she cleaned herself observing August scramble his life remnants together.
“Where to next?”
That devilish smile she so longingly adored frighteningly arose to life, his pupils darkened at her questioning nature, before reaching his hand towards hers. She accepted interlocking their fingers as one. In two seconds, time, August pulled her into his grasp kissing her in passionately. Their kiss was messy, vile, and monstrous. Y/N already craved another round but knew better than to push. After all, they were on a time constraint.
“India. We’re off to India my dove.”
“I hear their Murg Makhani is quite delectable.”
“I have a friend in Kashir but we must move quickly. We need something to knock Hunt off our scent.”
“I’ve just the idea.”
Just one glance was all it took for August to read her mind effortlessly.
“By all means lead the way.”
A wickedly foul smirk scrabbled to the surface, unearthed from a long-sealed lockbox.
“You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.…”
~~~~
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𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
a sugawara one shot.
word count: 861
content: past relationship mention, college ages, fluff in a way, some angst.
•♫•♬•.•♫•♬•.•♫•♬•.•♫•♬•
You were walking down the rain stained sidewalk, your hood over your head to block the falling drops. You were barely listening to your playlist, but how could you? You could barely bring yourself to much of anything lately. Things were hard on you, with having to drop out of college, and your family needing you back at home.
And then there was your breakup.
You honestly should’ve expected it, he was too good. Way too good for you. His smiles, the way he held you when things were tough. How his hands felt against your face. How he got along with your family. You tensed under your coat, and kicked a rock that happened to be in your way. You couldn’t bring yourself to cry about it anymore.
It was the best decision anyways, of course it was. He had plans, and you had been too scared to continue with yours. Your leaving college made the relationship hard because of the distance, and you hated having to put not only yourself in that position, but him as well. You heard a car honk next to you, which jolted you out of your daze. You tapped your airpods to stop the music. And who else could it be trying to get your attention?
Sugawara himself.
You stopped in your tracks for a hot moment, shocked. It’s been months since you’ve seen his face, and yet- here he was, his car pulled up to the curb. His window was open, his face unreadable.
“Y/N? Why don’t you have an umbrella?” You winced at the sound of your name with his voice, laced with concern like you remembered. And yet, even though you hurt, you ached for him. Your heart never gave up on him.
“I..forgot mine at home.” You responded, fiddling with your soaked sleeves. Your coat had only helped for so long, it was drenched at this point. You and him had an awkward staring contest, until he reached over to unlock the door.
“Hop in.” Before you could tell yourself no, your body had already moved to get inside like he had said. “I wish I could give you a towel or something-” He huffed, and pulled the car into reverse. You only stared at the dashboard, waiting for him to pull back into the street. This wasn’t easy. It wasn’t fun.
And Sugawara picked up on that energy pretty quickly, after all. He’d known you for long enough to read you like a book. He glanced back and forth between the road and you, before he spoke up again. “Y/N, I..how have you been?” You shrugged in response, resorting to looking out the window. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk like this. You felt your heart pound, against your will. He still gave you butterflies, how funny.
“Please, I just.” He sighed. “I was actually hoping to run into you. A selfish part of me was, I’m sorry that I just sweeped you up.” He turned a corner. Of course he remembered where you lived.
You glanced at him, a wary expression on your face. He wanted to see you? What? A defeated expression was on Sugawara’s face
“You wanted to?” You breathed. Your heart was leaping at this. There was a chance, right? Did he feel the same? The same emptiness that he had left in you.
“God yes, of course.” You noticed the air around you both change into something lighter, less heavy. You missed him, you always would. And so did he. You purse your lips, trying not to break into tears. Which was actually really hard to do, you felt the lump in your throat as you swallowed.
“I missed you.”
Three words changed the course of your entire day; possibly even your life.
The car pulled over in a jerky fashion out of nowhere, and you cursed as you gripped onto the door to steady yourself. “Suga!” You gaped at the man in shock. Did he even check to make sure he wouldn’t hit anyone? “Are you out of y-”
You were stopped mid sentence by his lips being pressed against yours, his hand on the back of your neck.
Your eyes were wide open from surprise, it took you a moment to realize. You slowly felt yourself melt into it, closing your eyes at last. The kiss was sad, and desperate. Like you both were trying to feel eachother again after so long.
And then you were crying.
“Fuck, I’m sorry!” Suga felt the wetness from your tears right away, pulling back to hold your face in his hands. His voice was hushed and worried as he searched your face. You trembled under his gaze.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just kissed you out of nowhere like that, that wasn’t-” And now it was your turn to shut him up. You both had been surprised now, and there was no turning back at this point. These weren’t kisses that you could ignore.
“Please don’t leave me again.” You whispered. Your foreheads were pressed together, your hearts a beating, pounding mess. He chuckled.
“I promise I won’t.”
end.
#sugawara x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#sugawara koushi#sugawara fic#writing fanfic#fanfic#sugawara#haikyuu oneshot#slight angst#haikyuu angst#happy ending#reunion fic
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Blazing Blue part 2
Chapter 2: So, it’s not a play date?
Pigsy was closing up shop when MK stuck his head around the door sheepishly.
“There you are! I was getting worried, did things with Monkey King run late or something?” he asked gruffly as he put away the last of the cooking pots for the day.
“Well, no…but I got held up by something…hey do we have any leftover noodles?” MK asked trying his best to be nonchalant, Pigsy glanced at him and gestured to the fridge.
“I know how hungry you get after your training sessions” Pigsy exclaimed, and raised an eyebrow at MK who was smiling a bit too broadly and looking…twitchy which was never a good sign. “Ok what is it?” he sighed.
“Well… I have a someone who needs to crash somewhere for a while so I was hoping…just for tonight?” MK said ever so sweetly and Pigsy face palmed.
“Ok I really don’t want to ask but I feel I need to, who is it?”
“…Red Son?”
Pigsy stared at him, gave a growl of frustration before rubbing the bridge of his snout to try and elevate the stress headache he can already feel coming on.
“Kid…times like this I really wish this wasn’t based on a children’s cartoon, because what I really want to say to that is not allowed for a kid audience!”
“Oh, but this is a fanfic written by an adult, who really needs to get out more.” MK offered.
“It is? Oh good” Pigsy took a deep breath and then said as calmly as possible “Fuck no!”
“Com’on, he’s is in a bit of a rough spot and needs somewhere to stay! We’re even truce buddies!”
“I never agreed to that term!” Red Son called from outside, MK reached out the door and dragged him in.
“He’s a demon? He is the son of one of your enemies? He tried to turn you into ash countless times? Need I continue to list reason why this is a bad idea??!” Pigsy shouted angrily.
“Look, I know where I’m not wanted, I shall take my leave!” Red Son growled and began to walk back out when MK grabbed his sleeve. “This is pointless he’s isn’t going to let me stay!”
“Damn right I’m not!” Pigsy retorted.
“Last time I checked I own the apartment above the noodle shop so really…” MK said slyly and Pigsy put a hand in front of his face.
“I rent it to you, so don’t even give me that nonsense that you have a say!”
“UGH fine!” MK growled and lead Red Son out of the Noodle shop, only for him to drag him behind the alleyway and use his staff to leap up to his apartment window, gesturing for Red Son to follow.
“You’re seriously going behind your friend’s back for me?” Red Son asked as he leapt up and through the window. MK walked in and started to tidy up the apartment to a more acceptable level of messy as Red Son looked around, last time he was in here he had burnt a lot of stuff. MK must have had to replace many belongings… so why was he this willing to help him?
“Pigsy just needs time to get to know you” MK explained as he got out a spare blanket and laid it out on the sofa. “Umm…is this, okay? I mean I’ve only got the one bed…”
“I may be a demon but even I have good manners when it comes to being a guest” Red Son declared loftily, besides he thought to himself as he sat down, I’ve been sleeping on the floor of our destroyed home for the last few weeks. This is heaven compared to that.
“Don’t worry we’ll find you somewhere tomorrow” MK said as he took off his jacket to get ready for bed and noticed that Red Son had not moved. “Umm…wanna take off your coat and get comfortable?”
Red Son gripped his coat and glanced away.
“Kind of hard to get comfortable in the home of an enemy…” he muttered.
“Now none of that! Remember we are Truce Buddies, I’m not so underhanded that I’d attack you in your sleep” MK declared confidently.
He might though MK suddenly thought to himself as it dawned on him that this could go wrong very quickly.
“Look, do you demons have anything to …I don’t know swear by? Because I’ve just realised this might be a long con or something to lure me into a false sense of security.” MK asked, Red Son sighed and looked up at him.
“It took you this long to think of that scenario? Noodle Boy are you really that naïve?” he demanded angrily but stood up anyway, “Normally I would have sworn on my family name but…given certain circumstances that’s not an option. So, I’ll swear on my flame that I will not do anything to intentionally endanger you or your friends so long as you swear on The Monkey Staff that you do the same!” he held out his hand and a small fire ball appeared and held out the other to shake with, MK took out his staff and took Red Son’s hand and shook it in agreement.
“Right, we are officially Truce Buddies!” MK beamed happily.
“I didn’t agree to that name!” Red Son snapped.
The next morning Tang walked in to grab his noodles for lunch, Pigsy was dicing up the vegetables to make the first batch for the day but had a fire extinguisher strapped to his back …and Red Son was sitting at a table looking grumpier than usual and also that he looked like he had fought a car wash and lost.
“Ok I feel like I missed something?” Tang declared.
“MK thought it would be a brilliant idea to sneak Demon Boy in for a sleep over, but didn’t take into consideration that fire alarms exist!” Pigsy exclaimed angrily “Now MK is on kitchen clean up duty for eternity for going behind my back and NEARLY SETTING FIRE TO MY BUILDING!!”
“In my defence” Red Son announced “I only sneezed.”
“I ain’t taking any chances Demon boy! You try anything and I’mma hosing you down!”
Tang sat down keeping Red Son in his peripherals and saw MK mopping the floor with an embarrassed look of defeat on his face.
“So, just to acknowledge the elephant in the room…why is Red Son here?” he asked gently.
“Because MK wanted a pet!”
“RED SON IS NO ONE’S PET!” Red Son shouted flaring up as he did so and got a face full of extinguisher foam in his face for his troubles. “WILL YOU STOP THAT??!”
“Okay…and the real reason MK?” Tang inquired as MK came out to mop up the foam for the third time that morning.
“We kind of have a Truce going on.” He said simply.
“That seems…fair I guess?”
“Yeah, well he can go home now cos I don’t want him here disturbing my business!” Pigsy growled and Red Son suddenly hunched over and glared at the wall angrily.
“If this is how you treat your patrons then maybe I’m not the problem!” he growled under this breath. Pigsy gave him a look and then turned back to his stove, he tried to turn it on but…nothing. He tried again and again for a few minutes but still nothing happened.
“Com’on! Com’on you piece of junk!” Pigsy muttered under his breath.
“I keep telling you need a new stove” Tang exclaimed.
“Last time I checked they don’t give them out for free! The freaking lighters are dead I’ll have to…” Pigsy said but stopped as a small fire ball flit past both of them and lit the stove top. They both spun around to see Red Son putting his hand down.
“Uhm…thanks?”
“Don’t read too much into it, I’m just hungry” he said quietly.
Pigsy shrugged and got to work and soon he brought out two bowls of noodle soup and placed one of them gingerly near Red Son, who took it and ate it quietly. After a few minutes Pigsy looked up to see Red Son smiling softly.
“What are you so happy about?” he demanded gruffly.
“Family recipe?” Red Son asked.
“Handed down through the generations. Why?” Pigsy replied cautiously.
“They remind me of this noodle stand I used to go to a lot when I was a child, it was my favourite place to eat back then. I suppose the taste makes me nostalgic” Red Son explained, Pigsy looked at him warily and then back at his photo wall.
“Pull the other one kid, my family started this business on a noodle stand but that belong to my great, great grandfather. You’re not even old enough to be around when this shop opened!”
“I’m a lot older than I look, don’t forget demons count their lifespans in decades not years…in fact if I remember correctly back then photographs were only just becoming a thing and I was there when they took the photo. The guy looked proud as anything of his little noodle stall”
Pigsy spun around and scanned his photo wall, and sure enough there was the photo that was handed down along with the recipes. It was tattered and faded over the years but it still showed the look of absolute pride that Noodle chief had of his livelihood not knowing of what a family business he was about to create. And in the background was a kid with flaming spikey hair sitting at the stall while holding a bowl.
“Wait…that’s you?!”
“Why would I lie about that?”
“And the flavour just as good as Great, Great Grand pappy’s?”
“Even better I’d say”
Tang slammed down his bowl and ran up to Red Son.
“WAIT A SECOND!” He cried in ecstatic glee “You’re immortal??!”
“No…demons can age and die we just live longer. Think of it as reverse dog years” Red Son said a bit put off by this sudden attention of the quiet book worm.
“Then you’ve must have seen a lot in your time!” Tang squealed “I bet you’ve even met some of the other legends throughout the ages!”
Red Son gave a cocky smile and gestured confidently.
“Why yes, I have, though I’ve never spoke to them I have seen many historical figures come and go not to mention the rise and fall of emperors and kings, to be honest it gets a bit boring after a while!” he declared smugly, now enjoying the fact that Tang was practically frothing at the mouth at the idea of questioning a being that probably lived through most of his text books.
“Have you met any of the sages…I mean besides Monkey King?” Tang asked eagerly Red Son’s cocky smile evaporated for a second and his hand wandered up to his neck before shrugging.
“I guess so, but I was very little when that happened…” he said dismissively.
“What were they like?” Tang kept on.
“… …scary” Red Son whispered. “I remember them being very scary.”
“Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that?”
“They were pompous jerks who picked on a little kid, whose only crime was being born okay??” he snapped angrily and stood up. MK who had been watching this from the kitchen walked up quickly to the angry demon before Pigsy had to get the fire extinguisher again.
“Ok maybe we should talk to Sandy about that problem now hey? Pigsy? can I take off now?” the three looked up at Pigsy who was still standing there with a look of blissful glee.
“Good as Great, Great Grand pappy’s” he sighed happily before snapping out of it. “Uh yeah sure seeing as Demon boy didn’t burn down my shop and helped out a little, I guess I can be lenient…but don’t try anything like this again got it??!”
MK saluted and Red Son wiped off the last of the foam from his hair as they left.
“So now what?” Red Son asked.
“We see if Sandy has a spare bed for you…hey were you serious about Pigsy’s family stall thing?”
“Like I said I had no need to lie about it.”
“And you’re seriously like…really, really old?”
“I’m still a child compared to others of my kind but yes”
“Why do you look human?”
“What’s with all the questions?”
“It’s just, except for your mom and you every other demon I met looked…I don’t know weird.”
“And seriously how often do we get to question a person like you? It’s like interviewing a keshin!” Tang interjected as he walked in between them causing both boys to leap out of their skins and glare at him.
“You will have to excuse me if I don’t want to expose all my family secrets in one sitting with the people who are considered my enemies!” Red Son growled; MK opened his mouth but before he could say anything Red Son held up a hand to him. “Yes, yes ‘Truce Buddies’ I know but just because I am on that agreement doesn’t mean my family is!”
“So, let’s hope we don’t run into Demon Bull King huh?” Tang declared. “Because that would be super awkward for all parties, wouldn’t it?”
“Trust me I doubt my father even notices…and wasn’t the whole point of this ‘Truce Buddies’ thing was to FORGET about my family and your mentor, to just enjoy the day, have fun or whatever happy go lucky idea you suggested?!” Red Son exclaimed angrily “Quizzing me on my family history seems to be a bit off the mark wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh right, right” MK mumbled and rubbed the back of his head.
“Wait…you two agreed to a play date?” Tang asked.
“ITS NOT A PLAY DATE!” both boys screamed in horror.
As they headed to Sandy’s ship MK was on his phone texting Mai.
“Okay so Mai knows what’s going on and she’s going to meet us at Sandy’s. Also, she’s bringing snacks and her favourite video games so she can … ‘Show red boy how to have a good time, hero style’…” he said as he read the text out. Red Son gave a weary sigh remembering that massive hero speech she had given him while they were getting the peach of immortality. Then to hint at his father with all the subtly of a cannon launched brick through a glass window that he had done “Good hero work” …it took him forever to get over that humiliation.
As he contemplated the fact, he now has to endure her company and she probably will take this “Truce Buddies” agreement as a sign that he is going to become a hero and won’t shut up about it, his train of thought was destroyed as something smacked him on the back sending him stumbling and nearly hitting the pavement.
“HEY!” he shouted looked back, fire ball in hand ready to roast whoever responsible. “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO TRIP UP RED SON??!” but no one was there to enact his rage on.
“You okay Red?” Tang asked.
“…fine I’m fine…must have tripped or something…” he growled. As they walked on, they didn’t see the shadows following them purple eyes grinning in the darkness.
“This got a lot more fun…” Macaque sniggered.
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What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 11
Wordcount: 5,150
Rating: M for strong language, ideologically sensitive and mature themes, gore
“In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did.”
Chapter synopsis: Allen and Arthur race to find you both, but it proves to be harder without knowing your whereabouts. Meanwhile, you've successfully helped Alfred find the chip. Before leaving, you have a long-awaited conversation with your father to realize he's more insane than you thought.
The reader is referred to as she/her.
Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): Cyberninja, Trouble finds trouble, Tower Lockdown, Me!Me!Me!, Pt. 2, Him & I (with Halsey), Atlantis. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:
Cyberninja
Before Arthur could even buckle himself in, Allen rammed his foot into the gas pedal. He was thrown back in a violent manner, and hit his head against the headrest. But the mechanic never complained. He looked stressed enough as is, continually scanning the road while murmuring to himself as if he’d really gone mad. “Hell, that motherfucker could be anywhere in the whole fucking city right now.” He hissed, pulling out of the driveway and into the main road.
“We can’t call him. Track him. Nothing. Same goes for (F/N). They’re off the map.” Turning to his companion numerous times in distress, he sped through the streets, though he had no particular destination in mind.
The indicator clicked. Allen cursed at the car in front of them, but never made a move to overtake. As Arthur became overwhelmed by these stimulants, he opened his mouth, defeated. “If you’re in such a hurry, why--why bother following traffic rules? You never have before, so why now?” He asked with a shake of the head, earning a loud scoff from the other.
The car windows glowed with a flurry of pinks and purples as they moved closer to the commercial district. They were near their first stop.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t give a damn if I didn’t have to.” The whites of his eyes reflected a mosaic of color as he never looked away from the road. “But that was when I was working for my boss. I had protection. I could do a hit and run if I wanted, and without the running part.” The redhead breathed. Then, he stuck his head out of the window with a huff. Immediately, he was choked by the city smog, and deafened by the blaring of car horns.
“Friggen’ prick...” He flipped off the driver in front of him. Sitting back into his seat, he flashed Arthur a grin, though the man couldn’t return the energy.
“Did you get fired? Or did you quit?” This wasn’t the best time to ask about the past, but he had been dying to know why he wound up half-dead on his doorstep. So what better a time to do it than now?
“I quit.” Allen answered point-blank. “Old man didn’t take it well. Decided to kill me. Didn’t.” Slowing the vehicle, they arrived at a parking-lot surrounded by backdoors of multiple piss-poor establishments. One of which was illuminated by a flickering red neon sign that read ‘no-tell motel’.
“He thinks I’m dead, so the rest of the city has to think that too.”
Arthur gawked at him. “That makes you no better than a fugitive! And it’s not just anybody after you--Allen, he’ll kill you when he finds out you’re still alive!”
“And that’s why he won’t find out.” Tapping the side of his neck for a flap to open, the said man slotted a small disk inside. “Disables cybernetic upgrades in a twenty foot radius. Means I can’t use mine, but it stops other people from figuring out who I am.” He dug through one of the compartments for a muffler, which he wrapped around the bottom half of his face.
What he did next was alarming, however. Sticking his hand further in, he pulled out a gun and cocked it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing--!?” Arthur exclaimed, fumbling with a face mask Allen tossed his way. He didn’t see a silencer anywhere either. “If I can call the police without any upgrades, so can everyone else!”
His statement couldn’t ring any truer, and yet, it never slowed down the other’s movements as he climbed out of the car. Unsatisfied by his silence, he wound up getting out to follow him. “Oi, say something! At least let me know you’re not gonna shoot up a restaurant!” Whispering that part out, he had to speed up a few steps to catch up with the man, now marching to the backdoor of a motel.
“Put the mask on.” Allen murmured without sparing him a single glance. But he paused briefly to process what he said. “... A motel, you mean. But I’m hoping we won’t have to resort to that.”
Arthur’s eyes went round. “You were considering--”
He could share the desperation to save Alfred’s life, but he had a hard time following how. Shooting up a motel? What was he thinking?
“Yes.” Attaching his hand to the door, it creaked open. Before Allen took another step, he faced him with a serious glower. “Now when we get inside, I want you to walk up to the receptionist. He’s programmed to greet you. Ask him for a room, and while you do, I’ll approach him from behind and deactivate him. Kapeesh?”
But then again, he was in the dark here. Arthur hadn’t the slightest clue on what Alfred’s circumstances were, as mysterious as the man was, so he had no idea how he was on the verge of dying.
So naturally, he wouldn’t know how to save him either.
But he trusted Allen to know what to do.
“... Alright. You better not make me regret this, you tyke.”
“You can call me anything you want, just not that. I’m not a kid anymore.” Those words would become apparent as they walked inside, where their plan went by without a hitch. They heard the automated voice of superficial kindness, which stopped abruptly to the sound of an android powering off. Its body fell to the ground to reveal Allen standing behind. Without wasting a second, he leaned over and typed furiously on the keyboard of the computer.
Trouble finds trouble
“Lemme see if this has a log of everybody who came by...” A few moments later, he started nodding at what he saw. “Bingo...” On their private encrypted server, stored the history of all the guests who booked a night. “Well, what do you know... Alfred checked out two days ago. But he’s on the move.” Pulling away to stand up straight, he jogged over to the exit.
“Even if someone tried to look for him in one a’ these places, he’d have to get behind the reception and do exactly what I did.” This someone referred to Matsumoto, but death already followed Alfred wherever he went. Not that Alfred knew that. “The perks of a no-tell motel. Even if they reek of piss, so long as there’s crime, they’ll never go out of business.” He beckoned Arthur to follow him with a tilt of the head.
“One down, twenty-seven more to go. And that’s only in the direction he’s going... And under the assumption he’s only staying at these motels. So, uh, let’s hope he didn’t try to be too unpredictable.”
The Brit huffed. This wasn’t going to be easy.
“I think he’d be predictable to do that if you asked me.” He murmured. “But you call the shots. I’ll just be... Moral support.”
Allen already disappeared out the door, but his head poked into the doorframe at that. “Nah. You have the most important job outta’ the both of us.”
That was right. He didn’t tell him yet. He really should’ve a while ago, but he got caught up in the chase.
“Whether you remove a chip from his head or not will determine if he lives or not.”
Arthur paled.
“He’s the guy my boss wanted me to kill. Remember the dude I told you about? The one who tried to steal a prototype chip three years ago?” Now that he mentioned it, he recalled the conversation a few weeks ago. But wait a minute.
The mechanic felt his face scrunch up as he was hit with a major epiphany. That was Alfred? The terrorist Allen had been updating him about? He was the man who tore up three floors of the headquarters of Matsumoto Optics, and simultaneously, the same customer he had been serving for the last few years.
Before he could even process his shock, he was presented with even more appalling information.
“He stole it this time. That’s what he and (F/N) disappeared to do. But now that it’s in his head, it’ll overwrite his consciousness until he’s a fucking vegetable.”
Arthur was horrified. “Then why would he even--”
“Because he doesn’t know.” Allen cut in with a grim expression. “He thought the chip was supposed to give him immortality, so he wanted to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Like my boss. But no. It’s the opposite. It was all a ploy to kill him.” At this point, the blonde was at loss for words. As a doctor and mechanic, he was quite frankly terrified of how devilishly clever Matsumoto was. But he couldn’t expect any less from him, could he?
They made it back to the car, and he could only stare aimlessly out the windshield, paralyzed.
“That’s why we need you.” He heard him say. Turning to the man, albeit slowly, he felt a hand slap down on his shoulder. Allen gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re the smartest guy I know, second to my boss. You were always great at fixing stuff. Cars, enhancements, people--so what’s a mixture of all three?”
Arthur dug a hand through his hair stressfully. “... You’re kidding.” And yet, he already knew he was on board. “... Are you calling him a car?”
The other flattened his lips. “... He technically could be.”
“Just to be clear, I fucking hate you.”
Allen laughed. “Sure.”
“But otherwise, we’re wasting time.” He couldn’t believe the words falling from his lips. This was really happening, wasn’t it? After taking him in as an apprentice for his auto shop, the roles were finally reversed. He no longer took charge as the teacher. Or rather, he became the student caught up in the most difficult assignment yet. Having a taste of Allen’s work.
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
***
Tower Lockdown
You had all the reasons in the world to be anxious coming home.
On top of worrying over Alfred, who had hundreds of trained assassins coming at him all at once, during every minute of the heist, you had to face an aspect of reality you avoided until now. You were in the building, and he had already stolen the chip. It was slotted comfortably in his head, ready to leave the premises.
How come your father never appeared? Was he really just going to let you go just like that?
But the real question was this--should you stay or leave?
Yes, you hardly approved of anything he’d done. Done to the world like Alfred always mentioned, and to Alfred himself. But you weren’t prepared to abandon him yet. He was still your father, and the only family you had. If you had to make a decision, you needed some closure. If not, a discussion.
And you expected him to give it to you as the least he could do.
As Alfred stood among a pile of dead bodies bathing in red, his mantis blades trembled against a katana blade. Even with his hands full, he made the time to check on you. “(F/N)! Stay away from walls! Just hang on for a second longer!” He shouted, turning to you briefly before diverting his attention back to his opponent. “We’re nearly home free!”
Pulling away to give him a swift jab in the chest, blood sprayed onto his face, but he wasn’t fazed.
What did, however, was the sight of you being thrown over the shoulder of one of the bodyguards. Color drained from his face and he burst into a sprint.
“(F/N)! No!” Watching you disappear into an elevator, he slammed right into the closing metal doors. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist against them to hear a loud bang. Before he could linger too long, he hastily made his way to a door adjacent. The emergency stairs would take a hell lot longer, but as if he’d wait for the elevator to come back down.
Even if he needed to climb up a hundred flights to get to you, he would--all the way to the penthouse where Matsumoto was.
When those men approached you, there was no struggle on your end. You knew where they were going to take you. And you wanted them to. It could even be said you were relieved, because that meant your father was thinking of you.
After a minute or so, the soft whirring fell silent, followed by a soft ‘ding’.
They moved outside the elevator, and after a few steps, they set you down on your feet. Right in the middle of your father’s office. At the very end behind a desk sat the man himself, and he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression. Upon returning his stare, came an onslaught of emotions. But the most prominent was incapacitating anxiety.
Even as his daughter, you could never see through him. He was impossible to read. So you had no idea what to expect.
“Dad... We need to talk.” You began, walking up to him warily. This was what you wished for at the start, cried for, even. To return home. And yet, the nervous pounding in your chest seemed to worsen with every step you took. It was jarring to confront how much had changed since then. So while you barely managed any words, you were already overwhelmed, struggling to choke back tears.
“For once, I need to know what you’re thinking.”
He inhaled deeply before responding. “I was under the same impression that we’d have this conversation.” Standing up from his chair, he furrowed his brows at the sight of you clenching the fabric of your pants. “Don’t look so nervous, child. You haven’t done anything to anger or disappoint me.” Reaching out to your head, he settled a hand on it.
“... Really?” You whispered out. Hearing his assurances calmed you down a touch. But when you saw the forlorn gaze he cast down at you, your heart was crushed. “... Dad?”
Me!Me!Me!, Pt.2
Any existing contempt for him melted away just like that, but you weren’t upset at yourself for it. Your father hardly expressed any emotion besides calm indifference. And when he did, it always felt like the world was ending.
“I’m the one who deserves your anger.” He clarified, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “I’ve left you by yourself for far too long, (F/N). I hope you don’t hold it against me that you had to come home yourself.” You hung your head, unable to meet his saddened gray eyes. If you were to hold a grudge at him for it, you’d start by avoiding his gaze. “And I understand why you would’ve wanted to help him. He has a way with words, and a naïve sense of justice. But it’s a warped perception of reality.”
You’d hate to admit it, but no matter how cruel he seemed to be, there was a method to his madness.
And you were perhaps the only person in the world to know it.
That was why you were so torn. Torn between hating him and understanding him. After all, you couldn’t have both. “You can’t blame him after what you did to him.” Glancing up at that, you felt bile rise in your throat. Then, your vision blurred. “I don’t know what you’re aiming for--for this company, and this world. But you can’t expect him to accept this world you created when you stole him from his. He had a life!”
Staring at him through hot tears, he breathed out a soft sigh before rubbing them away with a swipe of the thumb. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. And I won’t expect you to forgive me even after telling you the reasons for my actions.”
He pulled away from you to begin walking back to his desk, but not to sit down. Instead, he stood by the window to watch the blinking lights of skyscrapers and small moving dots of cars on the streets. “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did. So of course, he would reject the idea of immortality. The destruction of the most human quality there is.”
He paused briefly to scan the landscape.
“Mortality. One’s inevitable end gives everything they do meaning.”
Wrinkles creased between your brows. It was confusing to hear him speak so highly of death, frustrating, even. Wasn’t he the one investing billions into correcting it like a flaw? “If that’s what you really think, then why? Why would you make something that would take that all away?”
He held his hands behind his back. “To serve the greater good. A sacrifice, if you will.” The man turned to you, this time with a serious glower. “Alfred thinks I would commercialize it. Sell it to the public. But he’s wrong. Immortality will only be available to the leaders of the world.”
By leaders, you could only assume he meant people like him. Not politicians, but business men and women. Company owners. The most powerful forces of the present. “The inability to die is a curse. You never move on because you’re still breathing. But that may be just what the world needs. Stagnation. An absence of change.”
It was daunting to know this man was your father. You couldn’t say you were born with half as many of these attributes he had. Intelligence was easily passed down, but there was something else written in his genes you could never dream of having. “With every passing year, decade, and century, humanity frays like a rope. Society continues to deteriorate... All until self-destruction becomes a matter of time.” Facing the window again, he scanned the impressive architecture he was proud to call his own. And it looked as pristine as it did yesterday.
“The only way to stop this was to take control of it myself. And that’s how I came to found this company. I’ve found a way to govern the people. To invest in science as the world’s last and only hope. But it’s a job that will last eons, so I was prepared to do it until the end of time.”
He was right in saying that society was inevitably doomed with the direction it was heading. That technology was the only solution, along with a world government. Matsumoto Optics. A cosmocracy with jurisdiction over the whole planet. There would be no wars. No conflict. And with only one state to call the shots, things could be done so much faster on a global scale.
It was a radical concept to grasp, but you couldn’t say there was no logic to it.
“Alfred was meant to do it with me. To reincarnate again and again as my closest aide on my quest to preserve the world. But he ended up being the opposite. My foil.” Matsumoto shook his head. “Alfred is a nostalgic soul. He’s too attached to the past. But the way of the old can never last with how fast it makes the world burn. Even if he realized that, he would want to exact revenge on me after what I’ve done to him.”
“So before he destroys everything I’ve created, I have to destroy him first.”
Him & I (with Halsey)
You tensed up all over, but before you could ask him what he meant by destroy, the doors burst open. The very subject of the conversation had appeared, and just in time for the conclusion of it. His arrival caught you completely off guard, successfully derailing your train of thought, but your father merely acknowledged his arrival. “Ah. Speak of the devil.”
“Speak for yourself, you fucking demon.” He spat, marching over to your side to pull you into his chest. Immediately putting his hands all over your face, he was riddled with concern as he inspected you. “You okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. What are you still doing here? C’mon, let’s go.” While he reached down to your hand to lead you away, you stayed put.
As relieved as you were to see him here, you couldn’t follow him out yet.
You gave his hand a squeeze, then a soft smile of reassurance. Then, you turned to your father.
This time, you held him in a firm stare.
“Even if everyone thinks you’re crazy, I always knew you’d have some kind of justification for everything.” You started. Little did you know, you would take back this statement in the very near future. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Alfred. He never ended up doing anything you wanted him to, so giving him all those adjustments was pointless for you. But not for him. If you wanted to get rid of him, it wouldn't be easy.”
Matsumoto closed his eyes as if to agree. That was what you interpreted it as, at least. But unbeknownst to you, he was doing anything but. “I wouldn’t know what’s best for this world.”
“But what I do know is that I won’t let you hurt him.”
You spoke those words with a conviction so strong, Alfred’s eyes widened when he heard it. It wasn’t news you cared deeply for him, but to hear you say it to your father like that, and Matsumoto, no less, it made his mechanical heart pound more than he could fathom. You were actively disobeying him, a man you previously revolved your life around, for his sake. To say he was infatuated would be an understatement.
You felt his grip on you tighten.
“Say what you will, and I’ll respect your conviction. But I will come for him.” The bearded man murmured in a foreboding tone. A sinister light glinted in his dark gray irises. “And in the most unexpected way he could ever imagine. You will never want to see me again when that happens.”
“If.” Your voice was a little strained. As much as you wanted to hate him and move on, you couldn’t. Every single fiber of your being was urging you to find a reason, any reason, to not despise the man who raised you. “If, dad. Because if you did, I really will never forgive you. I’ll hate you forever.”
A grim expression contorted at his face. In his many decades on the planet, he’d never felt more dread. But one had to wonder if that was the right word. The regret had already arrived, because he’d already done something unforgivable. It was only a matter of time before you’d find out. “I’ve already done something to earn your unconditional hatred, child.”
That was right. He’d killed Allen, your best friend and only other semblance of family in your life. And perhaps, the person you held the closest to your heart.
“Soon, you will learn what it is. So I’ll let you leave today because you will never want to come back. I’d imagine that to be more… Convenient for you.”
It was only your ignorance that blessed him this last moment. The last moment where you’d see him as your father with eyes unclouded by hatred. But it was short-lived.
It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together, and in your short silence, you came to remember someone that had been gone for a while. Allen.
Atlantis
You woke up in a cold sweat. For just one measly second as you oriented yourself, you weren’t tortured by a fury. Betrayal. Disgust. But it all came rushing back to you like the memories of that Godforsaken day you met with your father.
Sitting up with a deep frown, you felt heat build up around your face. It would be etched in your mind forever. The memory of Allen laying in the dump. Tossed out like a broken toy. Then, the stench of blood and rust as he was left for dead.
You always knew your father was mad, but he kept on surprising you with how mad he was. Turning to the figure beside you, tears only overwhelmed your waterline to see his chest rise and fall steadily.
He was still here. Alive and well. You could only hope the same for Allen.
It had been ten days since the heist. There hadn’t been a single sign of Matsumoto or his men, meaning Alfred really did do his research on the best places to hide. Climbing onto his form, you wound up laying on his chest. Then, you peered down at his sleeping face.
As you got comfortable, you felt a smile creep onto your lips. If the you from a few months ago saw what you were doing, she’d be flabbergasted. Since when did you like him this much?
Your cheeks grew a little rosy as you became self-aware of the position you were in. Full-on embarrassment hit you when he began to stir, but before you could get off of him, his eyes fluttered open. Uh oh. Now this warranted an explanation.
For a second, he was confused, but when he saw that it was just you, he grinned lazily. “Morning, babe. Care to tell me why you’re not sleeping on your side of the bed?”
He’d totally cornered you. And did he just call you babe? “Um... I, well... I woke up on you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I was just about to get off.” Sliding yourself off of him at that, you tried your damndest to simmer down. But he never gave you the chance. Rolling over to face you, he pulled you in around your waist much to your surprise. “Hey!”
You never got around to pointing out that pet name, either.
He caught you in a serious stare. “Don’t be so shy. We’re close, aren’t we?” Alfred was never one to beat around the bush. You knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t mean you were used to it. Lowering your head at that, you fixated on his chest.
“... I guess so. That doesn’t mean I can sleep on you like that, though. And plus, it must’ve been uncomfortable.”
“Nah. You’re light as hell.” He hummed. Sitting up with you on his lap, his statement became more apparent in how effortless he made it seem. “You’re like a few grapes, really. So don’t worry about it.”
Why he chose to focus on that part of your argument was beyond you. Did he really not see anything wrong with what you were doing? Or maybe he did, and didn’t want to mention it. He’d been hugging you a lot lately the past week, but that wasn’t as deserving of your attention as spooning you while he slept.
Wasn’t he pushing the envelope? It would make sense he was just trying to comfort you after your run-in with your father, and your discovery that he was the one who attempted to off your best friend. But wasn’t this a bit much?
He wrapped his arms around your neck. There was nothing between you both, and yet, he was holding you like there was. Like you were his.
"...” It was in his smile. It was different to how he always looked at you, as if there was finally something behind those electric blue irises. Something alive. Something hot. As you played around with the idea, you lit up like a Christmas tree and pushed his mouth away. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Almost as if he read your mind, he relented. But only reluctantly. Picking you up from under your arms, he set you onto the mattress so he could get out of bed. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he gave your cheek an affectionate pinch. “Whatever you say. I’ll be back after a piss.”
When he left the room, you were left to your own devices. As you brought your knees to your chest, you came to realize how tight it was. He’d only left for a few seconds, and you were already waiting for him to return. It was ridiculous to think about, but it was almost as if you missed him. Already.
Did spending all this time with him give you some kind of separation anxiety?
Or was it something more?
You couldn’t tell.
The fact that he mentioned ‘I’ll be back’ suggested he was aware of your attachment to him. You buried your face into your knees.
Turns out, you weren’t the only one having a hard time processing your feelings.
When he disappeared into the bathroom, he pressed his back against the wall. Reaching up to his chest, he scrunched up a part of his shirt as the pounding in his heart subsided--his metaphorical one. Alfred didn’t think it was weird to find you on top of him like that, let alone dislike it. In fact, he loved it. It gave him a shred of hope that maybe, you did like him the way he liked you.
But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be with you.
This was the fifth motel he’d been to after the heist. There was no saying he’d be dead by the end of the day. Not when your father was after his head. So he wasn’t about to start anything. That would be too selfish, even for him--though one had to wonder if ‘selfish’ could even describe him anymore. He was anything but. At least, for you he wasn’t.
Alfred would only be proven right when he took a step towards the toilet. His vision started to glitch. Then, he lost his balance, falling over the sink and slamming his head against the mirror. “Fuck--!” Stumbling back onto his feet, he was engulfed in black for a few seconds. What the hell was going on?
His bout of disorientation lasted for far too long to be normal.
Before he would start accepting the prospect of going blind, his vision returned. He thought he would celebrate that moment, but he forgot what he was even fussing about. What happened? Lowering his gaze to his hands, he stared at them for a while before looking back up. What was he doing here? Where was he?
That was right. He was in a motel. With you. Running away from uncertain death. It took a minute or so to recall all of these things, and that was what alarmed him. It seemed like his body wasn’t accepting the chip very well.
Temporary memory loss and blindness was just apart of the transition, right?
Little did he know, it was anything but.
Outside that very district sat two men in a car. Bags hung under their dull eyes as they scanned the streets as vigilantly as their sleep deprivation let them. It had been two days since they slept, but they wouldn’t rest until they found him. There were only four days until the damage was done.
If they didn’t get to the man before then, he would be as good as dead.
#hetalia#Axis powers ヘタリア#Axis Powers Hetalia#hetalia fanfic#hetalia fanfiction#aph america#aph america x reader#america x reader#alfred f jones#cyberpunk#cyberpunk 2077#scifi#scifi-romance#2ptalia x reader#2p america x reader#2p! america#2p! america x reader#allen jones#arthur kirkland#aph england#alfredosauce50
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Mistakes and Retakes (M)
↳ Characters / Pairings | Kim Seokjin x reader
↳ Genre | Enemy to Lovers!au, smut, fluff, a bit of angst if you squint a little
↳ Word count | 18,5k words
↳ Summary | You hate to admit it, but making bad decisions and being reckless seems to be your forte. From saying yes to a last-minute meeting to ignoring your father’s warning about driving late at night on a slippery road. As if you haven’t gotten enough bad luck already, your high school nemesis decides to be a hero and comes to the rescue. Santa must have placed you in his naughty list for a dire punishment before Christmas.
↳ Author’s Note | A slight rom-com fic for Christmas, if you will. I had fun writing this but I do hope everyone would love it just the same.
↳ Warning | explicit sex scene, unprotected sex, a slightly unhygienic outdoor sex (please be safe, kids), portrayal of childhood bullying, mentions of/implied characters’ nude pictures.
↳ Part of the Stranded For Christmas Collab
↳ Music Companion | Not There - Zoey Lily, Indigo Svn
↳ Cross-posted | Inkitt | AO3
Under any normal circumstances, you probably wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be driving through the long winding country road cutting through the forest so late at night just the night before Christmas Eve.
You would have gotten yourself an early morning ticket on a domestic flight or probably take a train instead. And you would have probably already been lounging in your family’s cabin, eating some homemade chocolate chip cookies that your Mom usually makes on holidays, instead of sitting behind the steering wheels, fighting off drowsiness and boredom from the long drive.
Travelling back home on your new car was not so much of your initial plan at all. But neither was agreeing to an urgent last-minute meeting at the office which had led you to miss a chance on getting a ticket ride home. You dub yourself more as a people pleaser, which was the only reason why you were unable to say no. Though as you are looking back to it now, as you are driving your car through the dark path still miles away from home, you are starting to question yourself whether or not it had been truly worth it.
Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you look up ahead on the empty road, focusing on the icy parts that are sparkling under the car’s headlights. You are not as familiar with this road as you do with the routes you go through daily back in the city. It has been a rare occasion for you to drive home this way and the darkness around you is making it harder to see and be sure that you are indeed going in the right direction.
“It’s just you and me, Buddy,” you mutter softly as you look down on your navigation system, giving it a few taps as if it would help nudge the thing back alive from being stuck on one point. “Just as long as you can come back online again, then we’re good.”
Getting further down the road, your GPS system has been losing transmission that it is starting to lag. All you have been seeing on the map is a long, straight road, and the dot that marks your location is still blinking at the part of the route you have left behind had an hour ago. With only thick lines of trees on both sides of the track, no streets signs, shops, or intersections appearing to you yet, you could only hope that you have yet to stray out of the route heading home or miss out on any turns that you are supposed to take.
Getting impatient, you press your foot down on the gas pedal and let the car accelerates forward to get you out of the dark woods. You are hoping that you can get some working internet transmission somewhere around the next intersection heading into town.
For a split second, while you are trying to ignore the eerie feeling growing in your chest from being surrounded by the dark woods, your mind wanders off to remind you of your father’s words about your reckless driving and what he had said to you when you told him about your plans to drive home.
"Drive carefully."
"Don't drive so carelessly! Pay attention to the road."
"Are you sure you want to drive in that tiny city car of yours? Can't you just ride a bus home? It’s not safe to drive so late, go in the morning.“
"Change your tires before winter comes.”
As if fate has it, just as you turn the car to follow the path as the road curves to the right, the tires slide against the frozen asphalt, sending your car tumbling out of control and skirting off of its path. You slam on the breaks to make it stop, yet it only throws the car into a spin as the road goes downhill, before landing itself in the ditch on the side of the road.
You can only sit there in silence as everything stops spinning, feeling your heart hammering in your chest from the shock. Trying to calm yourself down, you take a deep breath before clambering out of the car and walk around, checking to see if you can find any visible damage and how bad you are stuck.
After studying the awkward angle your car is in as it is lying on the ditch, you step back inside and crank the engine back to life. Once again keeping your father’s image in mind, you try to remember his lessons about how to get yourself out of this kind of trouble. You start trying to maneuver the car slowly up the embankment, moving it inches at a time until you get the car into position to push it off of the ledge and back up on the road.
Applying the gas slowly, you start leading the car to climb up the bank while increasing the pressure on the gas pedal as you go. You keep following the steps calmly, until you hear a sound that makes your heart sink down to your stomach—the sound of the tires spinning. Taking your foot off the gas, you switch the gear to reverse the car, hit on the gas again, only to have nothing happening. Unwilling to give up, you switch on the gear forward and hit the gas again. And nothing. Switching the gear backwards, you hit the gas again, repeating them a few more times, yet the only thing you keep getting is the sound of the tires spinning and the car not even moving an inch.
“Fuck it!” you cry out while beating your hands against the steering wheel. Grabbing your purse, you search for your phone, hoping to be able to call for help. Yet just like the deadbeat blinking you were getting on your GPS, there is no reception on your phone to make any call.
Falling back in your seat, you can only cry out helplessly when you realise the situation you have gotten yourself in. You are indeed, completely stuck.
“Why me?”
Either you have been struck with a string of bad luck or if you are simply being punished for being such a terrible decision maker, the unfortunate event does not stop there.
As if getting your car stuck in a ditch is yet to be enough of a trial, you slipped down the slope when you were climbing your way to the main road. One missed step was met with an icy ground as you scrambled up the side of the ditch and you were sent falling back down, leaving you with a coat and a pair of jeans that are now completely soaked with snow, a sore hip, and a possible sprained ankle.
You dread the fact that you are nowhere closer to the nearest town and that you have not seen any other car passing by so far that you could flag down for help. Standing at the side of the road, you lean down to check on your ankle first before whipping out your phone from your pocket. There is no visible injury or swelling on your throbbing ankle—not yet, at least—a fact that you are relieved to see, yet it means nothing when there is still no reception on your phone for you to call for help or send any news home.
Looking both ways down the road, you find the road completely void of cars. It is already extremely late in the night and your hope of getting any help is slowly waning thin.
You still have miles away to reach the family cabin, a journey which would have taken you another hour or two with your car. The next town is much closer, yet even if you bother to try to walk the distance, whether it is down the long empty road or looking for a shortcut through the trees, you know for sure that you wouldn't make it all the way there by foot until past midnight.
Especially not with this ankle.
You are not completely sure if it would be safe to leave your car and your luggage out in this place either.
“Damn it.”
You choose to walk anyway, figuring that you may still have a chance to either get a reception somewhere along the way or find a ride on the nearest intersection ahead. Moving carefully on the side of the road, you pay close attention on your cellphone while trying to make sure that you wouldn't slip on frozen ground or strain your ankle further.
You have managed to walk a few meters away from your car, hobbling on your way until you nearly give up and turn back around when there is no building or lights on sight. Suddenly, the thought of just staying inside your car to keep yourself warm sounds a lot nicer than having to walk through the cold and into the dark woods.
It is at that moment when you hear it, the sound of a car engine, or a truck, coming from behind you. Turning around, you see a pair of headlights coming towards you, steadily moving on the ice-covered road in the distance.
“Oh my God, thank you,” you mutter with a sigh. You are both relieved and in despair as you lift your hand, hoping that the driver would care enough to stop for you.
Maybe you could ask for a ride, or borrow their tools to pull your car out of the ditch so you can carry on with your journey home.
As the vehicle slows down the more it gets closer to you, it is finally becoming clear that it is indeed an old pick-up truck which you would normally see in the farms around town, letting you know that it is probably a local. Whoever it is, you can feel your heartbeat settling down with relief when the truck comes to a stop right in front of you. Maybe you could finally be saved.
The driver lowers the window on their passenger seat and you lean closer to speak, only to have chill running down your spine when the driver leans towards you, letting you see his face up close through the dark interiors of his truck.
"Well, now. If it isn't the beautiful city girl, miss _____. What are you doing out here so late, woman?” he says so cheerfully, his eyes carry a glint of recognition and mischief while his lips—still the plum and sexy pair that you had once adored and hated—are grinning wide for you.
Fuck. Maybe the whole holiday season is cursed, after all.
You have stopped believing that angels and good fortune existed since many years ago. And if there is anyone in this world to blame for it, then you would point your finger on one person only.
Kim Seokjin.
The pride of the town, now farming business extraordinaire ever since the day he took over his family’s farmlands, the model student at school, the golden boy of the track club, parents’—and apparently, starting some time since his puberty, also women’s—favourite, and your childhood bully.
He was a total jerk to you back in school.
For some reason, he had found the pleasure of rubbing you off the wrong way since you were kids and had made your life miserable for your entire teen life.
From throwing worms, bugs, and small frogs at you when you were kids, to tugging your hair when you started growing them out and putting them up into ponytails and french braids every summer in mid-school. What took the cake was what he did to you back in high school. There is a reason why you had cut all contacts to nearly everyone from school since the day you graduated and he was the one who gave you just the perfect reason for it. You have even dreaded going to school reunions to the fear that people would bring up all the past events. Or even worse, call you by the very same nickname he had given you that had spread like haywire within less than a day and lasted until the very last week before graduation.
Just thinking about everything has your stomach churning and your blood boiling hot. It is just unfortunate that the latter is still not enough to give you warmth as you continue the slow walk down the road while fighting off the cold.
And the stubbornly handsome lad? Oh, he is still there, following you close with his truck while shouting through the window with all the snarky comments he could think of as if it would get you to hop into his truck and spend the rest of the journey sitting next to him until you reach town.
“I can understand if you were homesick for being in the city so long, but I didn’t expect to see you walking your way back home,” he says, snickering to himself as if he had just said the funniest thing ever while you keep the permanent scowl on your face as you stay silent. “Feeling adventurous, are we?”
You snap a look at him and instantly regret it.
Sure, the man is gorgeous and good to look at, but does it matter when he is the devil himself? You are half ready to run back to your car, opting to hoist it out of the ditch yourself if only you could or just sleep inside it until it would be possible for you to get any kind of help in the morning. Grunting, you hate the fact that neither is possible to do and it would be ridiculous to just walk back and sleep on the side of the road.
Speaking of your car, your heart lurches to your throat as you remember that you still have your belongings left behind and you would certainly need to get them one way or another if you are going to leave this area. Eyeing the truck beside you, you wonder if it would be strong enough to pull the car out of the ditch.
But that only means you would be asking this jerk a favour. And it will require you to actually talk to him. Not to mention that you have no doubt he would use this sometime later against you. You just know that he would.
He keeps rambling on while the wheels in your head keep turning, and before you can think better of it, you start talking to him, only to make him stop blabbering about some stupid things. Something about the woods, wild animals, and being frozen in the woods.
"Why are you even around here, anyway?" you ask him without looking as you keep on walking, holding back from asking him the real question hanging on your tongue—’Why does it have to be you?’
"Umm, for starters, I do live around the area. Not everyone had the big dreams of leaving the small town to be a big hotshot working behind desk jobs, you know?” He comments so lightly without noticing how much his words feel more like a jab to you. Pursing your lips, you glance sideways to see his eyes softening, as if he regrets saying something that may resemble a call out for your wish to leave the town as soon as possible the moment you graduated years ago. Clearing his throat, Seokjin continues to speak, “I was just coming back from a neighbouring town to drop some goods and buy some supplies before the road would be closed off for the thick ice and snow. The shops will be closed until after the New Year. I'd hate to be stranded on the farm all through the holidays without supplies to help me get through the cold."
You listen to him without saying a word or responding to him. Not only because you couldn’t care less about his daily activities or to his survival needs, but because you also need to focus on your legs more. You have been trying to walk normally to hide and ignore the pain on your ankle, and it is getting even harder now as the cold is starting to seep deeper into your skin through the wet patches on your jeans.
“Are you back to ignoring me again?” Seokjin asks you when he is not getting any reaction from you.
A little annoyed for having to hear his voice again, you only reply him with, “I’m trying to convince myself that you are merely a figment of my imagination just to keep me company. You are not really here and I’m just listening to some wind trying to be you.”
“______, Come on. This road is highly deserted. I don’t know if you have been paying close attention, but nobody passes here once it gets dark. I can’t promise you that you will have another chance of getting help once I drive off,” he says after groaning in despair, no doubt already losing his patience for your attitude. ”Now, will you please get on the truck? Let me help you. Fuck, I can drive you to town, at least.”
You are tired, stressed, and in pain, and the answer is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. Yes, absolutely. Take me away from this dreadful place, please.
But as you remember how much you hate him and that he is the enemy, your mouth betrays you by saying, “No."
All of a sudden, Seokjin hits the breaks and the truck comes to a sudden halt. The sound made by the tires against the icy road and the jolt of movement causes you to stop walking, and you end up looking at him with wide eyes.
"Please, ____. You are completely soaked and I know that at least one of your legs is hurting."
Furrowing your brows, you begin to question why he seems so adamant to help you. Maybe he does care, or maybe you just look so desperate and he is doing this out of pity. You already hate the fact that he had caught on to how you have been basically dragging your ankle as you walk no matter how much you have tried to hide it from his eyes.
You always hate to appear weak in other people’s eyes, and it is even worse to show this side of you to Seokjin.
A flash of memory comes to your mind, of him standing in the school hallway, grinning wide as he called out to you. The kids around him started laughing and pointing at you after hearing what he said, and how you rushed to hide in the bathroom, hiding your reddened face while crying until the last period of the day.
And school was never the same again ever since.
“Look, I know you hate me,” he says, nearly pleading at this point and you have to do everything in you to hold back from saying ‘You think?’ and make things even worse when it is obvious that he is trying. “And though I know I totally deserve the silent treatment, probably until hell freezes over, can’t we call it a truce for now so I can help you? At least until I can get you somewhere safe or to your family’s cabin in one piece. You also need to get your legs treated because there is no way you are getting through this cold with that leg of yours.”
Exhaling a deep sigh, you have to admit that he is right. There is no way you can keep on walking further in this state, and you hate to be too far away from your car without making sure that all of your belongings would be safe while you figure out how to get your car free. Right at this moment, you see no other possibility of getting help aside from the man that you have hated most for years.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—” you release another sigh to push your anger away and let things go. For now. “Fine. I do need help, but remember that I’m only agreeing to do this because I have no other choice.” And you are also desperate, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Let’s call it a truce and I promise I won’t maul you if you can either get my car out of the hole it was stuck in or help me get my things first.”
Seokjin’s eyes light up instantly and you can see him releasing a relieved sigh as he smiles at you.
“So, truce?” he asks again, offering his hand through the window for a shake, and you give your gloved one to grab onto him to shake his hand.
“Truce.”
Once you had gotten into his truck, you made Seokjin agree to turn his truck around and drive back to where your car had been stuck in. Seokjin had helped you step down the bank, carefully this time and without slipping down the slippery slope, then joined you as you examined your car.
You had asked him if he could pull the car out of the ditch, only to have him shaking his head, regretfully telling you that he wasn’t all prepared with the proper tools to do it when he was only planning to make a quick drive out of town and back and was not expecting to find you stranded in the area. The only option is to get your things out of the vehicle and get to town before midnight to decide how to go about it.
While Seokjin goes to the trunk to retrieve your bags and suitcase, you look down on the small car and wince at the sight of it. A huge dent is visible on its side where you felt it hit against the edge of the ditch and the way its tires are slanted sideways in awkward positions is not entirely a beautiful picture to look at.
You had relied too much on your new car when you decided to go on this trip, believing that it would never fail you. As a matter of fact, it didn't. It was more that you had failed your car more than it did to you when you were being reckless about the road.
Seokjin follows your gaze just as he hoists a suitcase out of your baggage trunk, looking down on the tires and mutters, “You weren’t using the right tires.”
You can only sigh when you know that he is right and you are too tired to defend yourself. “I have been too busy right before the holidays, and I couldn’t find the time to take it to the auto shop,” you tell him, furrowing your brows a little. “I wasn’t planning to drive home on it either until I had no other choice but to do it at the very last minute.”
He only stares at you and you bite your tongue. Squaring your shoulders, you wait for him to make a sarcastic comment to taunt you. Unexpectedly, Seokjin only nods. Maybe he had caught the distress in your eyes or see it on your face, because he only smiles knowingly and says, “It’ll be alright. We’ll just cover it up with something for now and lock up the doors. I’ll have my friend pull it out first thing in the morning. He has a tow truck which would be better to do the job than my truck and some old rusty chains would.”
Surprised to have his response, you can only return his gaze and absentmindedly murmur, “Okay.”
Both of you work systematically as you move your things from the car into his truck. Then you watch Seokjin placing some fallen branches and street markers to keep your car out of sight before hopping back on the truck to continue the journey. As you are soon back on the road, you slowly feel the cold coming back and tug at your coat to tighten it around you. You look down on the heater and notice it running, but say nothing even though you doubt that the thing is working properly in this old truck of his.
"You shouldn't have worn something so thin in this cold." Seokjin’s voice suddenly comes to steal your attention away from his dashboard and you find him glancing down on your body when you look at him.
"I wasn't exactly planning to be away from the wonderful heater that my car has,” you murmur with a sigh. “I also didn't plan to fall into the snow either."
“You fell?” he asks while glancing back and forth between you and the road ahead.
Nodding your head, you answer him with a light scoff. “I slipped on that ditch when I tried to get up on the road earlier.”
You hear him cursing under his breath. “Damn it. That explains your leg,” he mutters softly, once again surprising you when he looks even more concerned instead of laughing at you for it. The latter was something which he would have normally done on times like this. At least, in the past, there was no doubt that he would.
Looking out the window, you focus on the sight around you to ignore the weird feeling growing in your gut. For this one night alone, he has surprised you more than once with the way he acts. Once he was done being a smartass, he began to act really—nice. He even calls you with your name instead of that name. The mockery he gave you in senior high school which was the final straw for everything he ever did to you.
There is another reason why you are silent with your thoughts. Since the moment he brought up about your leg, you start feeling your ankle pulsing with pain when you could barely feel it earlier in the cold outside.
"You're shivering,” Seokjin suddenly speaks after a while, breaking the awkward silence that had been rising between you.
“Um—what?”
You meet Seokjin’s knowing gaze with your confused one, until you finally notice that while you have been lost in trance, your body has started shivering again. As you watch the way your hands and your body tremble, Seokjin drops a small blanket on your lap.
“I don’t have a spare jacket, but you can use this lap blanket for now. You probably should lose the wet coat too, but I’m not sure that this thing will be enough to warm you if you’re only wearing that sweater of yours,” he says, tapping on his heater as if he is trying to wake the thing up.
“This is fine,” you tell him while covering yourself with his blanket, though the size only covers your chest and lap. His masculine scented cologne fills the air around you as you take a deep breath. Leaning back in your seat, you accidentally knock your sprained ankle against the floor and wince in pain. “Oh, shit. Ow!”
“What, what’s wrong?” he turns to you as he hears your voice. You are in too much pain that you only whimper and bend down slightly to hold your leg to stop it from hitting anything else. “Fuck, I almost forgot about your leg,” he says when he looks down to watch you massage your calf to ease the throbbing pain a little. “Are you okay?”
Whimpering, you can only shake your head and blink back the tears. “I don’t know. It’s hurting.”
You hear him cursing under his breath while he looks around through the woods, as if searching for something. Then suddenly, he changes gear and turns the wheel before you feel the truck leaving the main road, entering a gravelly pathway appearing between the line of trees. “Alright, hang on tight.”
Reaching up to the handle on your door, you hold on tightly on it just as he had told you so while the truck shakes roughly down the pathway. You look around in shock, while Seokjin appears eerily calm as he drives the truck with rapt attention.
“What are you doing? Where are we going?” you finally ask him once you find your voice again, knowing that the main intersection leading to the town was not supposed to be around until another couple of kilometres and this is certainly not the turn you were hoping to see.
“It’s a shortcut. We’ll get there faster if we go through here. Trust me,” he says with a tiny grin on his stupidly handsome face which instantly melts your heart to a puddle. Sighing away, you have no choice but to actually trust him. Even if he is the last person on earth you would ever plan to give your trust to.
“Give it to me.”
He was just walking out of the changing room after practicing with the track team when you ambushed him. Like the true bully that he was, Seokjin was walking with confidence oozing all over him and was barely noticing you trudging over his way. As he looked at you, his eyes grew wide for a moment before his face turned cold.
“What are you talking about?”
“Give. It. To. Me.”
“Give what to you?”
“The goddamn picture! Do I really have to spell it out for you?” You screamed right at his face when he kept acting dumb about it, and you instantly looked around, afraid if anyone would hear you talking. Though it was more due to what you were talking about that you feared for people to find out, not for being caught talking to him in public.
“Ah, the picture!” He suddenly said, the expression on his face brightened as if he had a ‘eureka’ moment and you prayed to all the mighty above that you could hold back from scratching that smile off of his face. Literally. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
“What?”
Seokjin grinned wickedly as he leaned closer, whispering to you. “Why would I give such a nice picture to you after all the trouble I had gone through to get it? It’s my prized possession and I’d rather not lose it,” he said, his eyes glinting with pure mischief that had your body shivering in fear.
“What do you want with it anyway?” he asked, then his grin started to grow. “Do you find it thrilling to have a bare photo of you out there somewhere?”
“You—” you suddenly felt the urge to slap him on the face but you managed to hold back by clenching your hands right before you could swing it. Yet you still felt a small pride growing in your chest when he noticed your anger and flinched back in shock. “How the hell did you get it anyway?”
Seokjin only shrugged his shoulders. “Took it myself back in summer camp. You should be more careful when you go changing your clothes.”
“So, you—” you gasped. Clearly not believing your own two ears. “You really do have it.”
You tried to deny that it was true when there were people whispering rumours about how Seokjin had his hands on a certain picture of you. A polaroid picture that was said to be taken while you had your breasts revealed when you were about to go swimming in summer camp. You had waved it off when your best friend came to tell you about it and said that it was probably a lie, something he would ramble about with his friends just to put a shame on you. That the picture did not exist.
But this. This confirmed it.
You looked away when you felt your tears coming. Your chest had grown tight but you refused to let him see how weak he was making you feel. “How many people have seen it?”
“Just a couple of the guys who saw it in my room the first place. I don’t go around showing indecent pics to everyone I see. You should give me more credit than that.”
Forcing yourself to look at him, you practically started begging for his mercy. “Please, Jin. You can’t show it to anyone else or let it spread. Ever. If you really don’t want to give it to me or destroy it, at least promise me that you won’t show it to anyone.”
He was silent for a moment. “I promise,” he finally said. “And I’ll destroy it if anyone ever finds it.”
You didn’t truly expect that he would promise you that much, but you had to admit it gave you a good feeling when you heard it. “You do?”
“Scout’s honour.”
You were about to say something else when the other boys from the track team started walking out of the changing room. So all you did was give him your final threat before moving on. “I’m holding your words for it, Seokjin. And if I ever find out that you are spreading it around, I’m going to make you pay for it.”
You didn’t bother to wait for his response and quickly scrambled away from the spot, leaving the dumb pervert behind. If only you didn’t put so much hope and trust into him, you probably wouldn’t have regretted it later on.
Trees.
You look around and the giant trees are all you see aside from the dark void among them as the truck keeps driving through the woods. Seokjin has his eyes set forward as he drives the truck through the gravel-covered road.
Looking back and forth between the sight around you and him, you start to grow wary of the situation. Not only for the fact that you have no idea where you are going and that you cannot see anything outside the window, but also for the way his jaw is tight and his knuckles are turning white against the steering wheel.
“Are we lost?”
Seokjin gives you no response at first, but then his jaw ticks for a brief moment and he forces himself to relax a little as he answers, “Uhm—no.”
“Oh, that sounds convincing,” you sarcastically comment on him while rolling your eyes. “Why don’t I believe you? I thought you knew the area.”
He glares at you for a second before turning back on the road. “I do. It’s just—I might have taken the turn a bit too early.”
Gasping, you look around you once again before turning to him with wide eyes. “You’re kidding me. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Look, I got this, alright? Fuck, I know these roads. It’s not my fault I kept getting distracted by you,” he suddenly snaps. “You know, I think you just succeeded in giving me your bad luck or something. It’s starting to feel like helping you is turning into bad karma.”
You let out a groan. Just when you are starting to think that you can start liking the guy and he just ruins it in seconds. “Bad karma? Now you’re saying I’m a bad karma? That bad luck started when I agreed on taking this damn ride with you.”
Shaking your head, you look away while cursing and calling him with every vile word you could think of. Then you ramble about how things have only been getting worse and you regret trusting him, starting from how you should have stayed back in your car and waited down the road instead of hitching a ride with him. You even add by telling him that it would have been better if you had camped out at the side of the road, to saying how you are starting to believe he is doing this on purpose to scare you or possibly kidnap you instead of taking you home. Then how you would rather risk being abducted by aliens than having to be taken by him.
All of a sudden, he starts to laugh, which stops you from calling him more names and have you turning to him, finding him looking amused while giving you his cocky smile for no reason at all.
“Sweetheart, you better stop blabbering shit and let a guy focus on driving before I kiss you.”
Huffing at him, you cross your arms and look away. You say nothing to him as he continues to drive. At least, not directly. Because you keep on muttering all the curses and threats you could think of to let him know that you would not be sitting down nicely if he fails to bring you home tonight.
“What if we get ambushed by wild animals? What if there’s a cliff on the end of this pathway? There is no possible way that this road is safe enough to drive on. I swear to God, if we don’t make it back safely, I’m going to—”
While you kept rambling on, Seokjin had only been silent. You could see his grin slowly fading away the more your voice got higher by the minute, words broken between each other as you were tossed and turned at every rough shake the truck had to endure the deeper it got into the woods.
Then, like a bad karma, your suspicion and doubt are both proven as the truck suddenly jolts, hitting a pothole in the middle of the road until you feel it tilting sideways before it falls to the other side as Seokjin presses the pedal, only to send it to another hole instead of releasing it free. When you hear him cursing while pressing the gas pedal, and all you could hear is the tire spinning instead of feeling it move, you know that you are both in trouble.
“Don’t tell me that we’re stuck.”
Seokjin snaps his eyes on you with his lips pursed tight to a thin line. He says nothing before he opens his door and steps outside, checking on the situation and any probable damage. Deep down, without having to hear him confirm it for you, you already know that you are completely stuck.
“Fucking great.”
Deciding not to be the bad guy, you carefully climb out of the truck to see what the problem is and maybe offer some help. Though you find it that you are probably useless when you could barely stand straight thanks to the numbing pain on one of your legs. You finally find a way to move around, however, but only by holding onto the side of the truck as you hop your way over to the other side.
You find Seokjin just standing up from looking into the tires, using his cellphone’s flashlight to be able to see better in the dark. You walk closer—or, in this case, hopping on your uninjured leg to keep yourself from walking on your hurting ankle—as he walks towards the truck’s compartment, and it is then when you finally see how the truck is angled awkwardly with its front tire buried in the snow. The snow had probably covered the deep pothole which he had missed earlier, and yes, now you are both stuck in the middle of nowhere. Right in the middle of the woods and the darkness around you is not helping to make you feel better at all.
Turning to the back of the truck, you see Seokjin rummaging through the stuff he has back there and you call out to him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Seokjin nearly jumps, your voice has completely startled him as he didn’t even notice that you have gone out of the truck.
“Fuck, _____,” he gasps, pressing his free to his chest. “ No, I think I can handle it. What are you doing? You shouldn’t be walking, you’re going to make it worse,” he adds with a frown. He even turns his phone to light up your leg as if to make a point.
“I’m not standing on it,” you say to him while pointing at your leg that is slightly lifted off from the ground. “I just wanted to see what’s wrong. You can’t expect me to just sit in there and do nothing.”
Shaking his head, Seokjin reaches into the back of the truck once again and pulls out a car jack and a shovel. “Don’t worry, I got this,” he says while showing you his tools with a wink.
You look over to the tools he has in his hands and cannot help but ask, “You’re going to use those to do what, exactly?”
He looks down for a brief moment and starts explaining, “I’m gonna lift the truck up a little so I can see the hole and dig around it to make a path so the truck can climb up. It’s too dark and the snow is too thick, I need to do something before digging up to make sure I won’t be hitting the tire with the shovel.”
He may seem confident, but the way his eyes are shaking only lets you know that he is not truly sure about it either. He can probably see the dubious look on your face because he later adds, “Look, I don’t exactly know if it’ll work, but at least I can try to do something to get us out. Now move over and let me do the work.”
You do as he says and slide out of his way as he walks over, then he hands you his phone to help brighten things up for him. He calmly states that since there is still no reception showing on both your phones, they are completely useless at the moment except for their flashlights, and it would be the only thing you are allowed to do without adding injuries.
Seokjin kneels down next to his truck, getting the jack into place. Tossing his coat jacket away, he bends down and tries to nudge the tires out of the pothole using his tools. You point the lights from his phone towards him and lean against the side of the truck as you watch him work. Your eyes trail down as his muscles stretch and bulge underneath the tight long sleeves of his sweater, his shoulders looking strong and built as he pulls and pushes, groaning as he uses his strength to pull his truck out of the trap. His lips form into a pout and the frown on his face deepens as he concentrates.
You realise that even the darkness of the woods is not enough to mask his beauty. If only he had not opened his mouth to ruin things with his snarky comments and teases, you might have been swooning all over him like many of those students back in your high school, both girls and boys, would.
Noticing your silence, he glances over his shoulder and his cocky smirk grows when he notices where exactly you are currently looking at. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he teases.
Scoffing, you look away to hide the way your cheeks are warming up from being caught ogling him. I fact, you cannot believe you actually were seeing something that you like. Yet another thing he doesn’t need to know.
He continues to work once he is pleased to have you flustering. The space between you falls silent except for the sound of him working on the jack and his heavy breathing. And you cannot help but suddenly feel slightly nervous around him. Maybe it’s the cold, you wonder. Deciding that it must be messing your brain up.
You start wishing that you could be somewhere warm, with blankets around you instead of wet clothes and hot drinks. And hugs. Lots of hugs. Even Seokjin looks warm enough to snuggle with, with his strong arms and shoulders to lean on.
“Damn it,” he curses, snapping you out of your trance and have you looking at him again. He has moved from using the jack to digging into the ground with his shovel, and he looks annoyed when the couple of diggings he did had made no difference. “The ground is solid ice, the shovel can’t get through. I guess we’re going to be stuck here, after all.”
He tosses away the shovel and lets it land on the nearest pile of snow while he catches his breath. His face and neck are glowing with sweat, while you can feel your own skin blanch. Dread instantly takes over when you realise that you are going to be held up right here in the dark. And that is when you finally snap.
“Fine, you’re right. It’s probably me. I’m cursed. I must have done something wrong and whatever holy entity exists up there hates me.”
Of course, it had to be. You have been followed by one bad luck to another on this one night only and not even Seokjin’s presence could steer it away. Or maybe he is just a part of that bad luck? He isn’t really helping you, after all, so it could be it. At this point, you are starting to believe that the universe truly hates you.
“Have you gone insane?” Seokjin asks you with his eyes wide and a nervous chuckle coming out of his lips. He walks over to you and places both hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you up as he calms you down. “Look, I was only joking when I said you were some sort of bad luck, okay? You seemed so into it when you were wallowing about how you got stranded, I thought it would be fun to tease you.”
Your heartbeat is still racing as if you are about to have a panic attack, but he forces you to keep looking into his eyes and you find both his words and his assuring gaze are distracting you just enough to have you slowly calm down.
“It’s nobody’s fault, things like this could happen to anyone, anytime. It could be worse, you know. I mean, we could have been stuck at different places on our own instead of together,” he adds with a playful shrug while throwing you a smile as he could tell that whatever he is saying to you is starting to get into your head.
“God, whatever,” you mutter while rolling your eyes. You cannot help the grin that comes from hearing his words. Looking away from his ridiculous happy face, you look out through the line of trees, into the darkness and the void that had scared you off earlier. Your eyes slowly adjust themselves to the dark, and just then, your sight clears out to show you something appearing from beyond the trees. “Hey, what’s that? Is that a—a house?”
Seokjin follows your gaze and he immediately laughs. “Well, what do you know? We were on the right track, after all,” he says, sounding relieved while you are left completely confused. Thankfully, he explains to you shortly, “That’s the Choi family’s old farm. We might be able to get us some help.”
You look over towards the old building, noticing the broken fences surrounding it and the way the main house looks more like a ran down shack and the old barn next to it is not looking so grand either. With no lights in the surrounding building, they look like nothing but a pair of haunted cabins. “But it’s dark and it seems—deserted.”
“Uh—yeah, old grandpa Choi lived here alone after his wife died. He only had a couple of horses, two cows, and a few chickens to take care of. I think I heard about him moving to be with his kids on the other side of the town after he got sick last year.”
You snap your eyes back to him, astounded. Even more so when he had spoken so lightly like it is no big of a deal.
“So—it basically is deserted.”
“I—technically, yes. But there has to be some electricity running or perhaps some tools left behind. Maybe a working house phone, or a first aid kit for your legs, who knows?” If he is completely unsure about his own ideas, he is clearly trying to hide it from you by turning around and quickly making his way towards the old farmland.
“And how exactly are we going to know that?” you ask while moving in small hops to follow him. “I’m not about to add breaking and entering to my naughty list.”
He stops dead in his track, turning around instantly when he heard what you just said. “A what—list?”
Waving both your arms, you voice out one of the most ridiculous things you could think of. “There has to be some kind of list of the bad things I did to deserve this much bad luck in one night.”
“Oh, you’ve got some bad luck, alright. But at least you got me, right?” he teases while chuckling. Though he stops when he sees that you are being serious. “Well, fine—do you have any better idea?”
Clearly, you have none. You are completely flabbergasted to the entire thing that you have nothing to offer at the moment, and he seems to be too impatient to wait until you can make up your mind. Obviously, there is no other choice but do exactly what he is planning to, which is why he turns around again and starts making his way through the trees.
“And we are not breaking into the property. I am,” he says to you while looking over his shoulders, not minding where he is heading as he trudges forward to the edge of the pathway.
“Jin—” you call out to stop him just as he walks past the line of trees. But when he suddenly cries out and disappears as if the ground had just swallowed him, you know that you are too late.
“Oh, my God! Jin!”
It takes a lot of effort for you to hop off towards where Seokjin had fallen into. Once you reach the edge of the woods, you finally notice that the ground slightly descends from the pathway, going downhill towards the farmland beyond.
You can hear him laughing before you find him, lying down on his back and practically buried in the pile of snow. The broken patches of the snow around you shows you just where he had his misstep earlier before he came tumbling down.
“Jin, are you okay?” you shout out to him while taking another step forward while he is still chuckling like an ass down there.
As he notices you moving, he suddenly yells out, “No, ______. Stop!”
His warning is left unheard, however, when it is far too late. You have taken a step into the snowy hill and the ‘ground’ beneath you breaks, sending you slipping down the slope until you fall on your back, landing right beside him.
“Shit, _____,” you hear him calling as he crawls to you. “Are you okay?”
Seeing his face hovering above you snaps you right out of the shock, and then you start laughing.
“Oh, God,” you scream. “We are such a mess.”
“Shit, you scared me,” he says, slowly grinning when relief washes over him. “Yeah, we are quite the mess. And we are both soaking wet now.”
“Oh damn, you’re right,” you murmur as you look down on your clothes, and his own, all completely covered in snow. “No thanks to the snow, I guess.”
Lying back down against the slope beneath you, you look over to the farmhouse before you and wonder loudly, “Do you think we could just rest and shelter here?”
You feel cold and tired, and in more pain after the fall. The night is not getting any younger. And with this much stress, you know that you cannot force Seokjin to try and break his truck free in the dark and in this cold. You know that your family would be worried about you if you don’t reach home by tonight, but you also know that at least your father would still be logical enough not to unleash a whole search party for you only because you are late for half a day.
As long as you can go back on the road the moment the sun rises, that is.
As if reading your thoughts, Seokjin follows your gaze and nods. “Maybe. It might be better to rest than risk it in the dark. I can try again when the sun is up. Hopefully, the ground will break more easily once it has warmed up,” he says, before pushing himself off the ground. “Stay here for a moment and let me lock up the truck before leaving it.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not like I can go anywhere,” you wave him off as he turns to run back up towards his truck, leaving you there to feel the throbbing pain on your ankle while wondering how terribly sore you are going to feel in the morning around the hips.
You were never one to go to high school parties.
But when your best friend became a host for one during her birthday on one Friday night, there was no way you were going to refuse. Especially when she had let you know that your crush was invited.
He was one of the boys from the track team, one of the few decent ones who had never been rude to you. Dongjun was always so nice and so full of smiles that you fell for him instantly. His personality intrigued you solely because he was different compared to the other boys, more mature, more gentle, and had always been so caring.
Through a scheme brought upon by your close friends, you had ended up inside the closet during a Seven Minutes in Heaven-ish game with the gorgeous boy himself. The seven minutes felt like a lifetime when you spent the first two talking shyly with him before spending the next five minute of it kissing.
Your very first kiss. With your very first crush.
Your heart was racing and there was no doubt your face would have a change of colour when you finally parted, and you had let him know about it being your first. “That was my first kiss.”
He smiled against your lips with his forehead on yours. “Then it was my honour to have been given a chance to give it to you,” he said then, and you felt so close to melting into a puddle. “How about I repay it by joining you at lunch next Monday?”
“S-sure.”
He was the one who left the closet first, after kissing you one last time with a brief, chaste kiss. And you were still smiling and flushing in bliss when you stepped out half a minute later.
The bliss you felt then was cut short, however, when you were met with the last person on earth you would ever wish to see.
“Someone looks happy,” Seokjin greeted you with a sing-a-long tone as he watched you stepping out of the closet.
“Who invited you?” you asked him with a frown. You were sure that your best friend had insisted not to invite the devil, yet here he was, looking bitter and evil as he always did when he saw you.
With his hands in his pockets, Seokjin grinned. “The boys from the club were invited and they needed a ride. So I had to be a good samaritan and offer my service.”
“Quite the samaritan, you are,” you scoffed, then tried to walk past him.
“I wonder if he would be even happier if he had seen your picture.”
Stopping in your tracks, you turned to him and glared. “Don’t. You. Dare.”
Seokjin backed away from you, chuckling. “We’ll see, little one. We’ll see.”
Seokjin trudges down the small snowy hill with you on his back. With every step he makes, your body bounces against his strong back a little. The warmth coming from his body and the strong grip he has on your thighs are enough to make your heart pounding and your insides tingling. You have your arms around his neck and it is quite surprising that you have no urge to strangle him while he makes the trip down to the deserted farmhouse.
He had tried to help you walk earlier, only to fail when the pain on your leg felt too unbearable. If it wasn’t so bad when you fell on it the first time, it certainly looks like the second fall had officially made it worse. Added with having it buried in the snow, though only briefly, there was no way you could walk on it on your own.
Between his show of clumsiness and your sprained ankle, it has been proven that the possibility of you falling again on your hurting leg would be much bigger if you had been hopping all the way down from the slopes to the old farmhouse, so he had offered to give you a lift on his back.
You say nothing as he finished the descent walk until he reaches the main house’s front porch. Just as you had suspected, the door and windows are locked and sealed tight and the electricity seems to have been cut off. After trying all the locks and fails at it, he then moves towards the barn on the other side of the property, instantly relieved to find that the front lock had been broken off.
“I guess this is where we’re staying the night,” he says while pulling the door open.
Seokjin hobbles into the barn while flashing his phone around. Finding a few wooden crates at the front side of the room, he walks over to them and carefully deposits you on top of one of them.
“Stay here, let me look around to see if there’s anything we could use.”
After settling down on one of the strongest crates, you watch as Seokjin stumbles further into the barn with the help of his phone to light the way. Within a minute, he reaches all the way back and shouts, “Hey, there’s a door here.”
“Is it leading somewhere?” you shout back, curious to know what he had found. You only have silence as your response and you use your own phone to light up your surroundings. All you could see with it are a couple of wooden crates like the one you are sitting on, a few piles of dry hay, and some dirty sacks which you may not want to know what they contain inside.
While you are marvelling on the interior of the barn and wonder how on earth you are going to stay here for the night, you can hear his muffled voice coming from the other side of the barn. Having no idea what he is saying, only able to hear random muffled words, you yell out to ask him, "Who has a nice rack?"
Seokjin returns from the other room, standing in the doorway with an amused look on his face as he laughs. "I was saying that there is a fireplace on the back,” he tells you as he makes his way back to you.
"Oh."
"Come on,” he says as he turns, giving you his back while kneeling on the floor. It takes you seconds to climb onto his back, and he is careful enough as he lifts you up to not have you bumping your ankle as he takes you to the room out back.
You are surprised to find that the other room is a lot more descent than the front side of the barn. It looks more like a tiny lounge or a seating room, except with only a few broken chairs set aside and a large wooden chest placed across the fireplace. There is even a long cable hanging from the ceiling, as if there used to be a hanging lamp or a chandelier being set up there.
He points at the small fireplace in the smaller room as he slowly deposits you on the floor. “It may not seem much, but it would be enough to warm us for the night and keep us from freezing to death.” You look at the small furnace and the few blocks of wood left on its side, silently relieved to have it there and hope that he could make them work somehow.
“I also found this,” he says, pointing his lights towards the huge chest which has its lid left open. He helps you walk over to it before showing you the fuzzy blankets being kept inside.
“Blankets?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, they might be a bit damp but I think they’re usable. Let’s get you warmed up while I set up the fire.”
You didn’t even realise that you have been shivering until you try to speak and the words are caught on your numbing lips. As Seokjin moves to stand next to you, you finally notice that his lips had taken a bluish tint. The fall he had earlier in the snow had made his clothes all soaked and there is no doubt the cold temperature has gone through the thick clothes he is wearing, just the same way it has been for you.
Seokjin looks away from the pile of blankets, meeting your eyes with a determined look in them. ”You need to take those soaked clothes off. It won't help much if you keep them on."
"Are you trying to trick me into getting naked for you?"
"No, I'm just helping you out. I know that I’m a jerk but I know when to be nice, so stop thinking the worse about me, will you?" he suddenly snaps and you flinch at the tone. You were trying to make things light but perhaps the stress and the dire situation had pushed his emotions to the edge. You hear him sigh as he bends down, pulling a thick blanket and hands it to you gently. “Here, take everything off and wear this. We can hang them all dry by the fire later."
He pulls out another blanket for himself, and takes the extra one he finds inside and lays it down on the floor as a cover. Taking your hand in his, Seokjin helps you to sit down on it carefully. “I’ll help you take your boots off. I know it can be a pain in the ass,” he says while forcing a smile, as if he is trying to lighten things up again after his previous outburst.
A part of you wants to shut him off, still feeling the sting of his reaction earlier. But you figure that he is right, the hardest part of it would be pulling your foot out of the boots. The pain could be a bitch and there is no way you would be able to handle it on your own, much less brave enough to actually do it without someone else’s help.
“Okay,” you say to him, angling your leg towards him and let him hold it up gently in his hands. “I’m so going to hate this part.”
He chuckles. “Try not to kick my face,” he says, smiling as bends down.
“I’ll do my best,” you tell him while gritting your teeth.
Pulling one boot off from your uninjured foot first, Seokjin places it gently beside the wooden chest, then he reaches for the hurting ankle. You clench your jaw as he holds tightly on the back of your knee, then pulls the boot off with the other hand. The pain is too much that it has you screaming and cursing as he tugs the boot off in one swift move, but you hold back just enough not to kick him right on his head.
“Great job, no more injuries for the night,” he teases as he puts the boot away. He looks down, studying your ankle for a moment before lowering your leg so you could rest it on the blanket. “It’s definitely a sprain. Be careful with it when you change. I’ll give you some privacy.”
He walks away to the other side of the room with his blanket folded on his arm and you wobble slowly on the blanket to turn around.
Keeping your back on him, you strip down to your underthings after making sure that the wetness has yet to soak that deep into them, then wrap the fading burgundy coloured blanket around your body. You could hear the crackling sound of fire behind you as Seokjin lights the fireplace up while you were taking your time with the thick layers of your clothes, and now warmth is starting to rise in the room.
You still hear him shuffling around behind you so you keep your back on him and take your time, inspecting your ankle using the lights from your phone. You hear the sound of his wet clothes falling on the ground before he whispers, “Are you decent?”
“Yeah, I am,” you tell him before turning around, finding him wrapped in a red blanket. He walks over to you with a white box in his hands.
“Is your leg still hurting?” he asks you, holding the box up to you. “Saw this by the fireplace. I think the bandages are still good enough to wrap that ankle of yours for a while until we can get something better to heal it.”
“Um, okay,” you answer him hesitantly as he kneels down in front of you with a bandage in his hands. “Do you know how to put that on me?”
His eyes twinkle in the dark. “I’m no doctor, but I used to fix up some of the boys from the track club whenever someone hurt their ankles during practice or at a competition back in school. Trust me, I know what to do.”
Sighing, you realise there is no point in denying his help by now. “Fine, as long as you can make sure I can still walk. I might sue you if I never walk again,” you joke with him, and you are relieved when he only laughs.
Seokjin reaches up to hold up your leg, and you flinch back as he touches your skin. “Oh, sorry. Did I hurt you?” Seokjin asks you with a sheepish smile.
“No, you didn’t,” you answer while looking down, hiding the heat rising in your cheeks while wondering exactly why you are reacting this way. You keep your eyes looking down as he expertly wraps the bandage around your sprained ankle. His hands move gently as he treats you and his voice is soft when he says how he wishes he has some painkillers in hand to help you deal with the pain whenever you wince.
“There,” he says once he is done, and you mumble a soft, “Thank you,” while he slowly crawls next to you so he could lie down on the blanket by your side. “Are you comfortable?”
You try to smile at him and nod to respond, but even as you tug the blanket tighter around you, you are still shaking. He must have noticed it no matter how hard you try to hide it from him, because he looks over and gently tugs your blanket towards him. “You’re still freezing. Come here.”
Looking up, you see him smiling as he shifts closer. “I know something that’ll warm you up,” he says as he moves his arms around you, pulling you to his side. It doesn’t take long for you to finally warm up. His body is doing much more to give you warmth than the blanket and fire do, just the way you had expected it would.
You were still full of bliss from the Friday night party when you came to the school on Monday.
Pretty sure you were humming a song throughout the day, even through Math class that you had dreaded so much. You have yet to meet up with Dongjun since you arrived at school. The only time you did see him was during PE class, when he waved at you from the distance before the teacher tortured you on the tracks.
Your heart was racing rapidly right before lunchtime, and you had to stop yourself from running off to the cafeteria with the excitement of seeing your crush. You did rush out of the classroom the minute the bell rang and found him there, but the reaction he gave you when you came to him was completely unexpected.
“What’s wrong?”
You forced him to explain the reason why he was suddenly acting cold. He couldn’t even look at your face when you asked him if he still wanted to have lunch with you.
“I—I changed my mind. I also have practice right after this, so I have to go. Sorry,” Dongjun avoided you like a plague and you chased him out of the cafeteria for answers. Except that when the answer came, it arrived to you through the one person you dreaded to see most.
Just as you managed to stop Dongjun on the hallway, the devil came and wrapped his arm around Dongjun’s shoulder.
“What’s going on here? A lover’s quarrel?”
“This is none of your business,” you hissed at Seokjin, wishing he would just go away so you could finish talking to Dongjun again.
Instead of turning away and leave, he spoke with a wicked grin on his face, “I don’t know, I thought maybe Dongjun can share what is on his mind with me. We both received something special from you, after all.”
He winked, while you felt like you have been thrown to a burning flame.
“No,” you muttered, shaking your head while you looked between him and your crush; one who was looking at you with disgust while the other looked gleeful, and you carefully backed away from them.
Just as you turned around to leave the place, you heard Seokjin called out to you, “You know that you could just give him an extra copy to keep so I won’t have to show him mine, right—”
You were already dashing out of the hallway when he called you with a certain name, not using your name or the nickname he would usually use whenever he was taunting you. But another hurtful nickname which you could still hear even when you were putting distance between you. You could still hear the laughter coming from the students who were nearby and heard the name. And you could still hear his voice even until days, weeks, months passed, and people were still calling you with it.
It was the start of the war, right before hell was unleashed through your very own two hands.
Kim Seokjin was going to pay.
If only the one revenge that finally stopped him was enough to make the other kids stop all the same time.
Under the flickering light from the burning fireplace, you huddle close to each other with your backs against the wall. Groaning against his chest, you talk about the possibility of your parents making a missing person report for you while he promises that he will get things moving again by the break of dawn.
Bumping his blanket-covered shoulder against yours when you suddenly grow quiet right after, Seokjin asks you, “What are you thinking about now?”
“The apocalypse.”
“The—what, now?”
“You know those zombie movies?” You ask him while tilting your head to look up to his face, seeing him nod. ”In those movies, you’d see those characters that would meet up during trial times, then they end up teaming up to get to safety or fight to find a way out. Then just as you are starting to root for them to succeed, they’d get lost in the middle of nowhere, stumble into a group of zombies while running out of supplies and with no weapons to protect them, and you’ll either end up with a heartbreak from seeing them perish right at the end of the movie or ugly crying when they and up surviving and falsely think they are in love with each other from all the adrenaline they got from escaping death.”
Seokjin falls silent for a brief moment, appearing like he is in complete awe, before he starts laughing. “Are you saying that all of this reminds you of that?”
“Yep,” you say while emphasising the P. “Getting your car stuck in a ditch, followed by getting lost in the woods, find a deserted barn and choosing it as a shelter. Those are all in the checklist of doom in those movies I’ve seen.”
Seokjin laughs. “You always did, and still do, have such a vivid imagination, ______.”
Smiling at him, you only shrug. “Can’t help it. It’s better than always thinking the worse of things, right? It always works to help you escape from the real world sometimes.”
“Oh, it does,” he agrees, still chuckling as he imagines the scene in his head and compares it with the current situation you are both in.
When the last chuckle runs through him, he turns to you with a somber smile. “Hey, I wanted to say sorry—I know I was such an ass to you when we were younger. I was a total jerk and I had no excuse for all that I’ve done. And also for—” he swallows hard and stops himself, but you know exactly where he is getting at when you see the painful remorse in his eyes. “But, I want you to know that I am sorry, for everything.”
“Oh.”
You are caught by surprise to his sudden confession that you have absolutely no words to say at first. Especially not the right ones. But then you look up into his eyes to see the sincerity in them that finally brings your mind back to life. “I, uh—I don’t really know what to say. I had never thought you would apologise, ever. Least of all care enough to think about it.”
His gaze softens, but you could still see the sadness in his eyes growing while you nervously keep rambling on. “But I appreciate you for apologising. It really means a lot to me that you do.”
Seokjin cuts you off before you can finish talking, as his lips come pressing gently against yours.
You are caught completely off guard that your body freezes for a moment. Seokjin pulls back briefly, hesitant to continue at first, but little does he know that your nerves had just gotten awakened since the second his lips collided against yours. With a gasp, you lean forward against him to press your lips to his. You can feel him relaxing and breathing deeply as he moves his lips in tune with yours.
The kiss feels gentle and featherlight, but it is still enough to send your body buzzing with light sparks of warmth. Your eyes slowly flutter to close as he slowly deepens the kiss. Slowly melting into his touch, you feel his hands moving down your hips and you are suddenly lifted up as he is carefully pulling you onto his lap without harming your leg.
His fingers find their way to slip beneath the blanket and trail along your bare back, making shivers run down your spine with his delicate touch. One of his hands makes its way up to the back of your head where he cradles you, angling you so he can deepen the kiss. As his tongue laps along the seam of your lips, asking to slip in, his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling on the strands as he eagerly devours your lips.
Yet the moment your scalp stings from the pull, it triggers a memory from the past that instantly stops your brain from functioning. You are suddenly reminded to how he used to pull your hair as he sat behind you in class, before mocking how ugly you were with your hair all tied up. Then the other bad things he did, as little as they may be then, all start coming back to you.
As if there is a bucket of ice being poured over your head, you instantly snap out of your daze and push against his shoulders. Shoving him away, you push yourself off of his lap and try to sit up, though you can only shuffle back from him slightly when Seokjin still has his hands holding up your waist.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. His voice is deep and sounds like honey that it makes something inside you drip. It sounds like a sin, and you quickly remind yourself that this means nothing. That he means nothing.
Your chest tightens when your emotion is running wild and your mind is spinning like crazy. You look away as you climb down from his lap once he lets you go, and lie down next to him again.
What has gotten into you? You ask yourself, completely not believing that you had just kissed Kim Seokjin.
“_____, what is it? Is something wrong?” Seokjin reaches for your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, and only then do you realise that your hands have been shaking.
Looking up, you take in the sight of him. His lips plumped and swollen, pink and wet after the kiss. His eyes are hazy, and when they were showing you his dark desire only moments ago, they are now staring at you with a pained gaze in them.
“Did I really hurt you that bad, _____?” he murmurs softly, as if questioning himself rather than doing it to you. The worrying line appears thick on his face, enough to have you choking on your words.
“Jin, I—”
“I’m sorry. I really mean it. I don’t know how many times I need to apologise, I will,” he cuts you off before you could say anything, not only with his pleas but with the touch of his lips. You have been so deep in your terrible memories that you didn’t notice it when he leans close. While you are distracted with his lips and his soft voice, he wraps his arms around you as if he wants to stop you from breaking apart.
“Just—” you clear your throat when you still cannot find your voice. “Just tell me why? Why did you have to torment me so much when we were kids?”
Remorse and sadness start to fill his eyes and you suddenly regret bringing things up. You probably should have said anything because his smile vanishes and a somber expression takes over his feature. The sight of him fractures something deep inside your heart that you start chewing the inside your cheeks, indecision weighing heavily in your gut. You still cannot believe that you had kissed him, even more so to think that you actually liked it. But you cannot deny that it still hurts every time the memory of the past comes back to you.
Seokjin’s eyes burn into yours when he slowly starts to speak. “I never hated you, if that’s what you are thinking. Even if I can truly understand if you do hate me for everything I did,” he says, sighing deeply while he runs his fingers through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t really have a great excuse. I kind of always liked you.”
That has you raising your brows. He liked you? But that makes no sense.
“Well, you sure have a terrible way of showing it. You kinda had then and still kind of do,” you murmur softly, confused, while his cheeks flush under your gaze.
With a small grin on his face, he responds to you slowly, “I know I do. Back then, I was just a stupid kid who wanted you to pay attention to me. Then, when I got older and we were in high school, I realised how stupid it was but you already hated me. So it was like, what the hell is the point on changing it now?”
That does sound stupid. Frowning at him, you can only ask, “And how did that lead to you embarrassing me in high school with the boob pic rumours and the name you gave me then?”
Seokjin blinks slowly and then his face pales. Turning his gaze on the floor, his hands clench tight on his side and he looks angry. Though it is clear that he seems to be angry at himself more than he does to you, or to the situation he created then.
Rubbing a hand on his face, Seokjin sighs. “There was never a boob pic,” he mutters while covering his lips with a palm.
“What?”
He looks over to you, the remorse in his eyes seems to grow deeper. “It was a lie, okay? It was true that the polaroid picture everyone found was of you, but it was a picture of you in that summer dress you loved so much. I took a candid photo of you because I had no idea if I could still see you that way again after that day. I hid it from everyone because it was my prized possession and people just assumed that it was—” he stops to clear his throat, “—something indecent, and started spreading that I was keeping a picture of your boobs since I fought real hard to keep people from seeing it. I couldn’t explain my friends that I kept it because I loved looking at you when I couldn’t do it openly when we met, and things just blew up into a big mess that whatever I tried to do to stop it didn’t matter anymore.”
“So, it wasn’t—” you choke out both from relief and astonishment that you cannot even say it out loud. It was never a photo of your private parts, he was never the pervert you thought he was, but it doesn’t stop the heat from rising on your cheeks that comes from knowing the truth behind those rumours.
“I still have it, you know. I can show it if you don’t believe me. It’s starting to fade a bit, but the image is still there.”
Your eyes turn wide, clearly not expecting that. But you find yourself believing him somehow without seeing it. “There’s no need. I—” you clear your throat before speaking again, suddenly feeling the way your heart flutters in your chest when you imagine him keeping a picture of you in his room and wonder the reason why. It has been years, after all. “That’s why you refused to give it to me.”
“Yeah, well—” he rubs the back of his neck while looking away sheepishly. “It would be embarrassing to let you know about my stupid crush then when you hated me so much,” he says with a chuckle.
You voluntarily join him, chuckling softly when the weight in your chest slowly fades. But there is one more thing you need to clear away to be able to move on. “And the nickname? You embarrassed me with that and mocked me right at my face with it. What was that all about?”
Seokjin flinches the moment he remembers about it and begins shaking his head. “That one, I can’t even defend myself. I was bitter and jealous. Dongjun came up to me that weekend and told me about you giving your first kiss to him, and he was planning to ask you out that day. I—” he groans as he pulls at his hair out of anger.
“Fuck, I feel like such a total ass,” he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “It’s not that I never truly realised that I was acting like one back then, but—God, I can’t believe I let that got into my head. I just—he kept bragging about the kiss and out of jealousy, I just told him that he could be happy with stealing your kiss all he wanted, but at least I was the one who got the boob pic. And I made that comment to make my point clear.”
You blink. “So, instead of clearing things up, you ended up using it to your advantage to stop him from making advances at me.”
“I’m such an ass,” he groans, once again rubbing his hand over his face.
“Yeah, you were,” you mutter, frowning. “The least you could have done was made a better rhyme for it. Betty Boob? Days after you called me that right at the school hall, people started calling me Betty with the Boobies or Boob Girl, before they got lazy and just cut it short with Boobies or changed it entirely to Grand Tits or something.” You ramble on, though what had made your stomach coil in anger and disgust back then now only gives you small trembles of laughter when you think about it. But you admit that perhaps you only feel that way because he had told you how sorry he was for being an ass to you. You have already started forgiving him, in a way, you just want to tease him a bit while asking for some explanation. Even if you were expecting to hear any other excuse than about him having a stupid crush on you.
Seokjin chuckles bitterly, noticing how much the tension between you has grown lighter, then his grin turns somber again when he speaks, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I swear. It was stupid of me for not keeping my mouth closed, and I’d no anything to make up for it.”
Exhaling a sigh, you let his words sink in for a moment. You have no idea why you are taking this a lot better than you had thought you would. But then again, this is still better than what you have been thinking about him all these years. Everything was still pretty messed up, but you had started hating him less since he admitted the truth about the polaroid picture and when he said that it was his prized possession. You may bring it up later in the future for him to prove it, though that has you thinking—does that mean you want to see him again?
Then the name-calling. You still hate it, but it seems funny now when you think about it, after you found out that it was merely a slip up caused by his ridiculous jealousy. It did ruin a chance for you with Dongjun, but was it really such a big deal at all? You only shared one kiss and it was an innocent crush that didn’t lead you to a huge heartbreak. So maybe it wasn’t so much of a big loss, after all.
But still—
“If it weren’t for you giving a permanent title on my name and the unrealistic boob pic, I would have probably hated you less.”
His face falls, then he nods weakly. “Yeah, I hated myself for letting things happen and I still kind of do. If I could go back in time and change everything, I would. I swear. I’m really sorry, _____.”
It sounds unbelievable, but you can see the truth in his words when you look at him. “Okay,” you whisper to him. You can still feel the hurt for bringing all of them up but it has grown much lesser now that you have talked about it. The only thing you are feeling now is the way your heart is clenching at the sight of his fallen expression, how his eyes are covered in hurt and how you want so bad to console him just as much as you need him to do the same to you.
“Thank you,” he says, sighing in relief. “Just—tell me what to do to make it up. I’d do anything.”
“Anything?” you ask him, while he nods. Your eyes fall to his lips, and you start feeling tingles on your own lips the moment you remember the kiss you shared. “Then—maybe you can make it up right now.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“This—” you whisper before lunging forward to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him forward until he falls over your body. He could barely catch himself as he lands on top of you but still manages to hold his weight up as he plants his hands on either side of you.
He places a soft kiss on your lips, neck, on the bend of your shoulders, taking your mind away from the crumbling pain inside your chest while replacing it with heat that brings up a desirable shiver through your body.
The thought of him being the enemy is starting to get tucked away to the back of your mind. Your conscience keeps telling you to push him away, but your eyes look down on his body as you try to avoid his gaze, forgetting that just like you are, he is basically bare underneath the blanket he has wrapped around him, aside from his briefs. And you had pushed the thick fabric away when you were kissing him, giving you the perfect few of his muscular shoulders, his bulging pecs, his delectable abs that are calling you to run your fingers on and follow the trail leading down beneath his boxers.
Perhaps people were right about the advantage of kissing and making up, because your mind suddenly drifts. The anger and hate you have had on him for years suddenly start heating up into something else as they are slowly burning into something more feral between your legs.
Instead of pushing him away and ignoring it, you give in and pull him to you. Without any hesitation, his lips find yours once again, as if being apart from you was already too much and he needs to taste you again, breathing in your soft moans as he deepens the kiss. Your legs move apart as your body grows lax beneath him and he crawls between them. His crotch lands right at your covered center and you buck your hips up, grinding against his bulge to relief the itch growing at your core.
“Fuck, ______,” he groans as he pulls slightly away, keeping his lips hovering against yours. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
His complaints fall short because he already catches your lips with another kiss. It grows deeper and hotter by the second, getting even more desperate and needy as you suck his tongue inside your mouth and he bites and nibbles on your lips between each kiss. His hands roam down your body, touching every curve, every inch of your skin, before they make a quick work to relief you out of your underthings. Your own hands find their way down his bare chest, feeling his hot skin and tracing down the lines of his abs before you slip your fingers through the waistband of his briefs and push it down. Seokjin’s hand leaves your skin only to help you on it, and he is soon out of the last fabric covering his skin.
Once you are both completely bare, your blanket has fallen to your side while his own is still hanging desperately around his waist, he pulls back slightly and looks down at you.
“Are you sure that you want to keep on going? I don’t want you to regret this,” he murmurs against your lips, tracing them with his own. Breathless as he speaks, the pure desire in his eyes is clear.
“Please,” you start pleading, already too far gone to think clearly at this point. It feels as if the moment he had laid the truth and his own self bare before you, every wall you have put up crumbled to the ground and your true desire wins. “Get over here and fuck me,” you impatiently scold him when you notice that he has yet to make a move.
“Damn, you’re bossy,” he says as he grins at you.
“Yeah, well—you should’ve known that by now,” you tell him off while acting blasé, though the tremble that is slightly present in your voice betrays you and you just have to snug your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a groan.
You watch him fisting himself, giving himself a couple of strokes as he slowly bends down. Moving over your body, Seokjin’s lips land on the column of your throat, tracing hot kisses all the way down until he finds your nipples. They have slightly turned hard from the cold air and incredibly sensitive that your whole body jolts with pleasure the moment he takes one into his lips, earning a loud cry coming from you.
He swirls his tongue around the bud, making you arch your back as you moan and sigh, pressing your breasts into his face to have him suck it harder into his mouth.
Releasing the pebbled nipple with a pop, he kneads the other breast, pinching the tip between two fingers. His eyes grow dark with lust as he watches the way the tip turns instantly hard as a pebble, how your chest heaves heavily for air while whimper after whimper keeps slipping through your parted lips.
Still stroking on his length, he moves the other hand from your breast to grip tight on your leg and spread it open for him, only to suddenly stop. As he blinks, the desire in his eyes is soon replaced with confusion, as if he had just realised that something is wrong.
“Ah, shit—I don’t have any condom. I wasn’t exactly expecting to have sex with anyone when I left this morning,” he says, chuckling nervously. He tries to make things light but you can definitely see the panic in his eyes and it squeezes your heart a little. “I—I can try and pull out though. I mean, I’ll do it, or we could—”
Chuckling softly, you reach up and place a finger on his lips to stop him from rambling. “It’s fine. I get checked regularly to know that I have nothing in me. I’m safe and I’m also on birth control,” you calmly explain to him while deep down cheering at yourself to have made the decision to do so even if you haven’t been with anyone else for months. But yeah, he doesn’t need to know that last one. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, unless you have something—”
“I’m clean,” he quickly adds, appearing relieved for a moment before the dark gaze in his eyes returns. Leaning back down on you, he presses his lips against yours, while he lets a hand roam down your body, tracing down your skin from your waist to your belly, then down to your mound. At the touch of his fingers against your folds, you spread your legs wider, beckoning him closer as the need to have him inside you gets even stronger. You can feel yourself leaking down below, your arousal building and pooling around his fingers when he whispers, “And I also want to come inside you. Fill you up until you are all hot and full inside with my cum.”
“Jin,” you whine softly, your eyelids are fluttering when you feel like your whole body is burning with need. You barely catch on to his smile as it grows, when your eyes are filled with haze and tears as he slowly slides his fingers up and down your wet slit, gathering your arousal before he pushes two fingers inside, stretching your tight entrance with a slow thrust.
“Have patience, pretty girl. You know that I need to make sure you’ll be ready for me,” he says with a chuckle. Kissing your lips to tame your light whimpers, Seokjin pumps his fingers in and out of you a couple more times. You can feel the pleasure rising, edging you to the point that you are close to explode, but still not enough to reach it yet.
“Please—please, Jin. I need you,” you keep pleading while he only licks his lips, hiding the sly grin he is sporting as he watches your reaction to his touches. You give your all to keep your hands away from pulling his hand to reach deeper, clutching tightly on his upper arms to keep your hands out of the way. But then the need inside you wins and your body moves on its own, as you start moving your hips, humping yourself against his fingers to have them fucking you deeper.
Just as you are losing control of your body and desire, his own resolve seems to snap at the same time. With a whisper of a curse, he withdraws his fingers from the depth of your heat then slowly climbs his way on top of your body. Using one hand to hold himself up, he brings the other, the one which has been coated by your release, into his lips. You watch in awe as he licks his fingers, drinking in your sweet nectar with pure hunger in his eyes.
“I wanted to taste you the moment I saw how drenched you are,” he groans, then he moves his hand back to his shaft, covering his wide girth with his palm. He spreads your legs for him while he strokes himself, then aligns the tip of his length at your entrance.
“Relax for me, baby,” he whispers. Staring into your eyes, he enters you slowly, really slow, letting you feel it as he stretches you apart and fills you up with his thick girth. You feel it as his cock enters you inch by glorious inch, how each ridge and vein rub against your pulsing walls, and you clench your jaw while praying to the fucking universe that you wouldn’t come right this very second.
“Jin—” you gasp as he reaches deeper, pushing through the depth of your tight walls as if he wants to mark every nook and every cranny of your hot canal, torturing you once again by sending you to the edge before he could fill you up to the brim. “Oh God, you feel so good.”
You feel his chest rumbling against your breasts as he chuckles. “Really, now? Well, I’m nowhere done with you yet, pretty girl,” he says. His cock is already deep within you and he suddenly pushes forward, thrusting the last few inches of his length in one swift move until you feel the hard tip of his cock nudging at the brim. And your body erupts, the first spasm of your incoming climax runs through you, pulsing around his cock as your walls grow tight for him.
Gasping for breath, you don’t even notice it when your eyes are shut closed to how good you are feeling until he tells you to open them.
“Open up your pretty eyes for me, baby. I want to look into your eyes and see how good I’m making you feel,” he coaxes you while pressing his lips on yours to snap you back to focus on him. The moment you open your eyes for him, his smile grows and you find yourself wanting to see it even more. “Deep breath, baby. Are you ready?”
Exhaling a deep sigh, you nod your head. “Yes, give it to me.” And he does just that.
He pulls back slowly and starts moving immediately, as if he has been holding back for too long and it is time for him to get what he needs from you. Pistoning his hips, thrusting deep, he fills your tight channel over and over again with hard strokes. You can hear his curses each time his cock hits your depth and your walls clench tight around him, while your own curses come as he latches his lips around your nipple, nibbling and sucking the hard tip as his thrusts grow faster.
Your hands make their way from his pecs to his waist, before they land on his hips so you could hold him close to you and feel the way he swivels his body on each thrust he makes.
“Jin, more—more, please,” you beg him, pressing him by the hips and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder, keeping him there even with your eyes closed from feeling too much and not having enough.
“You want more, baby?” he asks you once he releases your nipple from his hot mouth. You look up and see him moving to the other breast, licking the hard tip and blowing his warm breath on it.
“Yes, Jin. Faster. Harder. I want to—”
He gives you no chance to finish that very sentence when he suddenly gives you a hard thrust, and you instantly cry out his name when he hits you right at the very spot you needed him to be. He keeps repeating the motion, keeping up the steady pace as he hits the spot again, and again. One stroke, two strokes, three—
“Jin…I’m—shit!” you whimper as he nips at your throat, muffling his deep groans as he feels your walls clamping down on his cock as your pleasure starts building, tugging you close to the cliff’s edge.
“Come, baby. Come on, come for me,” he coaxes you with deep grunts as he continues to thrust, making your whole body shake and your thighs quiver harder around him. You start feeling his cock flutter inside you the more your body tightens around him, your stomach coils with your rising climax while he grows harder, his cock twitches against your walls to let you know that his own release is just on the horizon.
And then, you feel it, your whole body erupting in shocks of pleasure as your climax comes in massive waves. You feel like you are burning hot while your release coats his cock, your cries drown the slick noises of your cum against his thrusts, before you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest.
“Fuck, I’m coming—” he hisses, and like a huge eruption, he explodes with his own release. His entire body vibrates against yours as he fills your tight channel with every single drop of his cum and it sends your body into another climax. It feels smaller, but almost as intense as the previous one as you feel every drop of anger and frustration, every single want and need, all that have been accumulated for years to be relieved at this very moment.
Seokjin still moves in and out of you as he slowly comes down from his orgasm, while yours settles down into short spasms of pleasure until your body calms beneath him. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the haze as you take in the sight of him, while his eyes are slowly opening as he finally comes to halt.
At that very moment, when you look into his eyes, you feel content for the very first time and you are starting to see him in a different light. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are just as glossy as yours, his chest is rising and falling rapidly as he takes in deep breaths. His hair is a complete mess, both from your hands when you were kissing him and from his rapid movements when he was fucking you into oblivion. His lips are plumped and slightly parted, and you find yourself wanting to pull him back to you so you could kiss him again. And when you look at him, you no longer feel the same anger that you used to have for him whenever you saw him in the past. Instead, you are starting to feel like you want to see him like this and feel this exact moment with him again.
To feel the same peacefulness and content that he brings after that wild, intense sex.
Staring into his eyes, you can see every emotion running through him. Everything that seems to mirror your own. His confusion, excitement, his want and need. Everything blurs together into one. For a moment, it feels too overwhelming that you look away from him, only to find yourself wondering why you are not having a hard time dealing with all of this.
The moment you snap out of your thoughts, you notice his eyes trailing up and down, giving you his perusal gaze before his cocky grin returns.
“You know, if only I had known that all I had to do was to fuck you senseless in order to stop us from fighting so much, I would have done it years ago,” he suddenly says, chuckling breathlessly. Meanwhile, you don’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Oh, shut the hell up and just kiss me before you ruin the whole moment, you jackass,” you snap at him, but let your lips spread to a grin when you cannot resist the bubbling laughter slipping out of your mouth right before he does what you asked him to do.
You are both smiling when he kisses you, his lips feel soft and his hands are gentle when he caresses your skin, before slowly taking you into his embrace. The moment a soft groan vibrates from deep inside his chest and his tongue slips through the seam of your lips, you realise that he is probably thinking the same thing you have in mind. That he wants to feel all of it and do everything all over again just as much as you do. And that makes you feel much better about wanting him instead of hating him like you were supposed to.
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and loud shovelling in the distance.
The room is still quite dark when you finally open your eyes. The fire has died out, but you have some light faintly coming in through the opened small window close by. The sky is still dark outside but the sparks of light from the rising sun are slowly appearing, letting you see everything around you without the help of your flashlights.
The space beside you is empty but the continuous sound of a shovel hitting the ground lets you know where Seokjin is. The air is cold, but not as cold as it was last night. Your body feels sore, for numerous reasons, but at least the pain on your leg has become numb.
Pushing yourself to sit up, you finally realise that you have both your blanket and the one Seokjin was using last night wrapped around your body. No wonder it feels so warm, you wonder with a smile on your face—one that grows wider as you look over to find your clothes all folded so neatly on top of the wooden chest next to you.
You have just finished putting on every piece of clothing on your body—sans the boots—when Seokjin walks into the room.
“It worked!” he says. His whole face and hair are drenched with sweat but he has a huge smile on his face as he lifts up the shovel in his hand. You notice that it is a different one than the one he used last night, with a much bigger size and more dirt on it compared to the one he owns, and he is proud to show it off while explaining, “I went into the toolshed right out front and found this. The ice on the ground has melted a bit and this bad boy did the work in no time.”
“So we can go now?”
“Absolutely,” he says, nodding his head while throwing the shovel away so he could lift you in his arms.
An hour later, Seokjin pulls his truck into the driveway of your family’s cabin.
Your entire family welcomes you at the front door, both with relief for having you finally back home safely and the look of surprise on their faces of seeing you wrapped in Seokjin’s arms as he helps you walk inside. It is not until a few minutes later, after everyone is sitting in the dining room with hot drinks and some light meal for breakfast, when you tell them everything that had happened. Starting from how your car had skidded off the road to how Seokjin found you, only to end up getting stuck together in the Choi family’s old farm—skipping the part of your make up sex by the fireplace—and ensure your father that Seokjin’s friend is on his way to retrieve your car as you are having this conversation.
“We called him on the way here and he told us not to worry about it,” Seokjin tells your father while your mother is busy searching for some medicine in the kitchen. “He’ll call either one of us later to let us know once the car is safe in the auto shop.”
“That’s good,” your father says before he leaves the room to let the younger ones talk in the living room, which basically only includes Seokjin, your brothers, and yourself.
Your oldest brother keeps shaking his head as he listens to the details on how you decided to stay in the old barn and use it as a shelter and how Seokjin managed to get his truck free. “That’s unbelievable,” he wonders loudly while sipping on his coffee. “I wouldn’t have believed it happening if you had told me this any other day.”
“I’m just surprised to see the both of you getting here in one piece without killing each other,” your second brother speaks. Being the one who is closer to you by age and who is also basically your best friend, he is the only other person in the room who knew about your feud with Seokjin since he had been going to the same school as you did. As he looks over between you and Seokjin with a scrutinising gaze in his eyes, you know that you will have some explaining to do with him later.
A lot of explaining.
Seokjin chuckles as he looks at your brothers. “You know what people used to say about Christmas. What better time to bury some old hatchet than on the most glorious time of the year, am I right?”
Rolling your eyes at him, you only respond to him with, “I have never once heard of that saying, but do go on.” Everyone laughs at your comment, but you quickly adds, “But in all honesty, I think being stranded and meeting each other on the way was an early Christmas blessing.”
“Yeah, it helped us made up,” Seokjin agrees while looking deeply in your eyes.
“That’s good to hear,” your brother speaks with a chuckle, earning all attention to turn to him just as he continues, “For everyone who witnessed the vendetta going on between you two, it was quite intense. I don’t think any one of us love remembering how _____ got suspended from school after she stole your car and left it by the lake with flat tires and scratches all over your new paint. That was a rough one.”
While your brothers laugh at the memory of your eventful revenge, Seokjin looks at you with his brows raised, demanding some answers.
Oh, that’s right, you wince as you send him a sheepish smile. You knew there was something that you forgot to talk about last night. Judging by the way he grins as your gazes meet each other, you know exactly how to make up and make things right.
Hopefully, you can do it soon.
All Rights Reserved © 2016-2019 Yoonia
Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action
#smutcentralnet#ksmutclub#btswriterscollective#btsbookclub#bangtan bookclub#seokjin scenarios#seokjin smut#jin scenario#jin smut#jin x reader#seokjin x reader#kim seokjin#bts scenario#bts fanfic#kpop scenario#kpop writing#kpop fanfic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#bts x reader#enemy to lovers au#stranded for christmas
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physical touch
rwrb and the five love languages | part three
in which a young ellen and oscar make a life-altering decision
The sun boils Ellen Claremont and Oscar Diaz as they stand outside Marlene’s Diner. Even in December, the Texas heat shows no mercy. The parking lot is full of cars for the lunch rush, and as much as her manager hates it, Ellen had to take her fifteen now. Oscar is on his way home.
Seems like yesterday he and a bunch of his white-collared buddies popped into Marlene’s and sat down at a table in Ellen’s section, but it was eight months ago. She thought she was about to get catcalled and a two-penny tip, but instead she gave the table advice on how to help David Morwitz, an Austin democratic candidate for state representative, gain more votes among young people. And Oscar wouldn’t leave until he got her number—for political reasons of course. That is until she made out with him after a Young Texas Democrats rally and he discovered the blue bonnet tattoo on her lower back.
He was fresh out of law school, hoping to build his political resume so he could run for office one day, and she was just finishing up her second year, living on tips and volunteering where she could. And, like all young lovers, they spent the whole summer and fall talking about their hopes and fears, their darkest secrets and greatest dreams.
“The Supreme Court, eh? One of the justices?”
“No,” she told him, “I just want to argue a case there. Set precedent.”
He smiled, showing off that goddamn dimple on his cheek. “You could go farther—the highest point even.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’m looking to help the little guy, Diaz. I can do that anywhere.”
“Then why not the presidency?” When she scoffed, he said, “Fuck you, I’m serious. I’ve seen you in action, Claremont. The protest you organized for the clinic they shut down? You’re incredible.”
That moment hugs her as she struggles to let go of Oscar’s hands. They’re rough from the field work he did in high school but also calloused from his guitar. She spent months learning the lines on his hands; she can draw them from memory, as he can with the curves of her hips.
His flight leaves in two hours. Ellen will have to watch the blue sky for planes, imagining him soaring away with his Walkman playing a worn-out Latin tape. Maybe if Morwitz won, things could be different.
But they’re not. She’s still filling coffee cups and handing out “yes, ma’ams” and “yes, sirs” like they’re pocket change. And he’s still going back to California to join an immigration law firm.
“Claremont,” he starts, “I don’t know what to say. These past few months—”
“I know,” she says. Lord, do not let her bawl in front of this man—not like she hasn’t before when the anniversary of her mother’s death came around. But still, she’s got to leave him with the image of the take-no-shit, strawberry-blond fireball she is.
They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. God, she’ll never forget this man even if she tries. His curly black hair swoops over his eyebrows and behind his ears. His sleeves seem permanently rolled up, his tie loosened. Oscar somehow carries the lackadaisical Cali-boy in his smile and the strength against generational oppression in his eyes. The sorrow of goodbye shows in his drooping shoulders. Ellen knows she can set them straight with one kiss on the lips and a hand somewhere else.
Instead, she drops his hands and looks away.
“Ask me to stay,” Oscar says, reaching for her waist.
Ellen can’t bear to look into his warm, brown eyes and tell him to go. She puts her hands on his chest and feels his heart beating under them. His beautiful, fighting heart. “I won’t do that, Diaz. If the situation were reversed, I’d slap you for suggesting it.”
He pulls her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “The situation’s not reversed, Ellen. Ask me to stay.”
Lord, every time her first name rolls off his tongue electricity shoots down her back, and now it meets the lightning rod that is his hand on her tattoo. It takes everything in her not to jump him in this parking lot. Damn the cars driving past them. Damn the diner patrons watching through the windows. Damn the Bible-thumper preaching from the street corner. The world should stop for her goodbye to the man that shocks her too her very core with one touch.
“Oscar.”
“Ellen.”
His forehead presses into hers, and his hand meets the other on the small of her back. She can’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, like they’re about to sway to an overrated pop song at a high school dance. He smells like he always does: cheap cologne and sweat, and holding him—being held by him—feels like taking a wrong turn on the drive home just so you can finish your favorite song.
“You don’t want me to leave, right?” Oscar asks.
“No, but this is crazy. You can’t stay here. What would you do? What would we do?”
Favorite song—favorite person be damned, too. Hasn’t it crossed his mind that his life can’t just transfer to Texas? The campaign is over, and his family and career are back in California. He’s being stupid, and she’s letting him.
Touching him makes her irrational, so Ellen lets go and steps back. “I mean, Lord help us, Diaz! Have you even thought about this?”
“What’s there more to think about? I love you and you love me! We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Oh, do not give me that ‘love conquers all’ bullshit! You’re smarter than that!” she says.
Her fifteen has got to be over by now, but fuck it. Her manager can wait. She’ll stand her and scream at Oscar; she’s developed quite an affinity for it. God bless him.
“Maybe it does—”
“Bull-fucking-sh—”
“No!” He grabs her hands, and she doesn’t fight it. “With all the shit we’ve been through, can’t you see it’s brought us here? Right now, Claremont. You and me. We’ve got something; we want the same things. Let’s do it. Come on, Ellen, let’s just fucking do it!”
And he kisses her. It’s not desperate, but gentle and resolute. Her hands find the nape of his neck again, and she tangles her fingers in his soft curls. Sunflowers bloom in her belly. Oscar squeezes her hips in his hands. Sweet baby Jesus. She can’t let him go. She’ll have to kill him first.
He pulls away—only a centimeter or two—and says again, “Ask me to stay.”
Eight months of this shit. Eight months of diner banter and canvassing and takeout movie nights and fucking in his motel room or her tiny-ass apartment or one of their cars. Eight months of law school papers and screaming matches and tequila and talking for hours until one of them crashes and the other cuddles up to fall asleep. Eight months of hands—his and hers—intertwined like they’re holding the Earth together.
“Stay,” she whispers. A car blares its horn, so she barely hears herself say it. But she does.
“Stay with me, and we’ll change the fucking world.”
As stubborn as she is, so is he. They match in some weird way, and Ellen can’t remember the last time she found a person like that. Fucking Oscar Fucking Diaz. She’ll get on her knees for him or step on his neck if he asks nicely enough. She’ll spend hours critiquing his debate strategies or peering over his shoulder while he proofs one of her assignments. She’ll bake him peach cobbler or devour his mole and anything it touches. Oscar’ll play the guitar, and she’ll sing along.
“Good because I already accepted a job with Representative Acosta. He’s from 54.”
“Fuck you!” Frustrated, angry, and smiling, Ellen shoves his shoulders. “I know where he’s goddamn from! But what the hell were you pulling my leg that far for?”
He puts on that Diaz smirk and trails a finger down her hip. “Pretty legs though.”
“I’ll fry you up and serve you for dinner if you ain’t careful,” she deadpans.
“Promise?” Oh, good Lord.
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
Ellen grabs his jaw, rubs a finger over that fucking dimple, and pulls him to her lips.
“I do,” she says.
check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part two, part four, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)
so yeah it’s fairly obvious that i have a hard time keeping to a schedule BUT i think this turned out very cute (even if it’s not actually set during valentine’s) and even if i go past v-day, which will probably happen, i’m determined to finish romance week! anyways, thanks for all of your support! <3
rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests
#rwrb#president ellen claremont#oscar diaz#throwback#my writing#rwrbromanceweek#rwrb fest#rwrb fanfic#fanfic#red white and royal blue#casey mcquiston#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#june claremont diaz#nora holleran#pez okonjo#princess bea#rafael luna#zahra bankston#valentines#valentines day#texas#election#queer books#queer lit#queer authors#love languages#physical touch#claremont 2020#ellen claremont
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When Lightning Strikes Ch. 16
When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.
Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]
Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
_______________
Hiccup regretted not going back for a jacket the minute the wind started blowing sideways. His hand hurt from gripping the handle of his umbrella, preventing it from succumbing to the forces of nature and escaping him like a gas-filled balloon. When it turned inside-out for the third time, he gave up and closed it, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to keep the rain from disappearing down his back. It only semi-worked. He could count the goosebumps on his skin. Soon, his t-shirt was clinging to his torso and he started rubbing his arms to stop shivering.
This had been a very stupid idea. Why had he not thought this through? Where was he even going? And why on earth had he not taken his car?! But turning around and walking back to his house sounded worse than to keep walking, because the way back was the direction the rain and wind were coming from. He started jogging to warm up and get out of this weather as fast as possible, taking the route to the nearest person he could think of.
With a trembling finger, he rang the doorbell, waiting for the familiar static. The first voice he could hear was that of a barking dog, then some swearing and yelling at the dog to shut up, then finally, someone addressed him. “Hello?”
“Hey man, it’s me. Can you let me in? I’m cold and wet.”
“That’s not what- Shut up, Hookfang! Sit! That’s not what your mom said last night.”
Hiccup let his forehead fall against the front door. “Just let me in, please.”
The sound that came out of the buzzer reminded him of a dying cow, but he was able to open the door anyway. At the top of the stairs, Snotlout was standing in the open apartment door, holding his excited dog by the collar. When it spotted Hiccup, it wagged its tail against its owner’s legs and barked happily.
“Come in before he barks up the whole stairwell again. Mr. Browner’s been sticking his head out the door every time we came back from a walk to complain if Hookfang made even the tiniest of sounds. And you know he’ll make the sound if he sees people.” Before he closed the door, he yelled down the stairs, “Yes, Mr. Browner, I’m talking about you, you massive dick!”
Hiccup scratched the happy dog, trying to escape its tongue. “Wouldn’t massive dick be a compliment in your book?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Do you have a jacket for me?”
“What do you need a jacket for?”
Hiccup wordlessly pointed first at his clothes, then out the next window. “Oh, come on…” Of course, in the few minutes he’d spent inside, the rain had let up. A small patch of cloud was even lighting up a little, as if about to expose a bit of sunshine.
“You walked through a car wash or what?”
“Why- why would I ever- No, it’s been raining for the past few hours, have you not looked outside lately?”
Snotlout flopped into his armchair where a set of headphones and a half-empty bag of chips were resting on each arm. “Nah, I was busy.”
Gently shoving Hookfang away from him so that he could move, Hiccup peaked at the TV screen. “Obviously.” He was looking at the pause menu of a Harry Potter Lego game. Snotlout quickly grabbed the remote and the screen went dark.
“This is Call of Duty. Shut up, Hiccup.”
“Clearly. I could still use a jacket, though.” Oh, he would use this newfound knowledge on a later occasion. When he had the right mind for it and wasn’t still feeling like a wet towel in winter.
With a groan, his friend got up and left to his bedroom. As soon as he was gone, Hookfang jumped onto the chair and stuck his nose into the bag of chips, licking the inside. Hiccup grimaced. Snotlout loved his dog, but he still had trouble making it listen to him. Or follow any rules at all. Lucky for him, Hiccup now knew an expert in all things dog training and– Oh, right. Said expert had also just kissed him, more or less, and then bolted.
She’d said she needed to go home. Maybe she’d meant her parents’ place? Maybe she hadn’t even been talking about anything regarding her relationship with her husband? Was he overthinking this again? Maybe… Maybe she’d forgotten she needed to meet her family, the equivalent of remembering the oven was still on. Or something. He sighed. It was a place to start.
He was hit in the head by a hoodie, followed by a yell from Snotlout. “Catch! Pff, loser.” Hiccup decided not to say anything when his friend reached into the bag of chips and ate a few, before inspecting his hand and scrunching up his face in disgust. “Ew, dog slobber! Hookfang, you shit dog!” The shit dog wasn’t impressed by its owner’s disgust, staying on the armchair without a care in the world. “Now get off my chair!”
When the dog didn’t move, Hiccup sharply whistled and pointed down at his feet with a stern face. “Hookfang, come here!” After a few moments of intense eye contact, Hookfang actually gave in and followed the command, lying down at Hiccup’s feet, much to Snotlout’s dismay.
“Hey! Why are you listening to him?! You betrayed me, you son of a bitch dog!”
“You know, technically, he is the son of a bitch.”
“Shut up, Hiccup. I need that jacket back by tonight.”
Hiccup took in the chipped flame print on the sleeves. The jacket itself was too wide for him, but the sleeves were way too short. He probably looked like an idiot. “What for?”
“I want to wear it to work tomorrow. There’s this girl that likes that stuff.”
“You mean oversized clothes for kids? Didn’t you wear this back in school?”
“It’s retro! Whatever, she digs it. So give it back later, okay? I really need it.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Thanks anyway. I bet you didn’t have any other jacket you could lend me.”
“I’m not gonna give you my fine stuff. You wouldn’t be able to handle the swag, anyway.”
“What swag, Snotlout?” Before his friend could dive into that age-old discussion again, Hiccup held up his hands to stop him. “Save it, I gotta go.”
“Where?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Bye, Snot. Hookfang, listen to Snotlout. Whatever. Thanks again for the help!”
He had grabbed his umbrella and was out the door before the dog could follow him or Snotlout could dig for more details. He didn’t have time for that right now. There was a place he needed to go and there was no time to waste. Realizing he could have asked for a ride, or at least for a short ride to his own car, he slapped his hand against his forehead, breaking into a jog.
Every few minutes, a short drizzle broke out of the clouds, and Hiccup felt taken back in time to a certain rainy November day. Time was of importance just like it had been then, but today, he was determined to catch her in time and not let go. Unless she wanted him to, which he hoped she didn’t, but now that he thought about it, maybe she needed to be away from him and concentrate on the relationship she wanted to keep. Winded, he slowed to a stop and leaned against a traffic light at an intersection. The next bus stop was just down the road.
Checking the schedule on the wall of the bus shelter, he sat down on the narrow bench underneath and waited. With a sigh of relief, he found his city ticket in his wallet. The hoodie and exercise had warmed him up enough and he made sure no water would drip out of his hair and run down his neck.
What if the roles were reversed this time? What if she – and he tried to not get his hopes up – had plunged deeper into this connection between them and now needed to sever all ties to him in order to not lose her mind? That he could relate to.
He got to his feet the moment the bus rounded the corner. If her decision really ended up to break contact, he would still find her and talk to her first. For his own attempt at closure, at least. He’d know he at least tried this time, and didn’t give up at the last minute because the mountains in his way were too steep to climb.
He had to change busses twice until he got out two streets over from her parents’ place. Using the short pause between drizzles, he made it to the driveway, eyes darting around in search for her car. It wasn’t there. His stomach dropped and he felt his heart beat in his throat as he walked to the front door and rang the bell. He would leave no stone unturned; he was all in.
The door opened and Wilma Hofferson curiously raised her eyebrows at the sight of him, disheveled and wet from the rain, wearing an unfitting hoodie.
“Hi,” he nervously greeted. “Is Astrid here, by any chance?”
Wilma shook her head. “Last I saw her she was leaving to meet someone for lunch earlier, I assumed it was you.”
“Oh.”
“Seems like I assumed wrong. Have you tried her phone?”
He could have slapped himself. Her phone. He could just call her, for fuck’s sake! “No- no, you were right, she was with me. But then she left and now I’m trying to find her, but seems like she went home home, so never mind. Sorry for bothering you!”
Mind already recalling her phone number, he left a bewildered Wilma behind and jogged back to the bus stop. He scanned the schedule, but he had no clue where he should go. He didn’t even know her address. Tapping his right foot on the ground in a quick pace, he tried to get his racing thoughts in order.
“Alright, Hiccup,” he mumbled to himself, “what’s the plan here? How can you solve this?”
Call her and ask for her address? No, that was stupid, and also inconvenient. He could just ask her to meet him somewhere.
Call her and talk on the phone? Also no. This was a conversation to have face to face.
Call Heather to ask Dagur for Eret’s number or address? Yeah. Great idea, Hiccup. Call your ex to ask her brother for your almost-lover’s husband’s number. Just call her yourself, you idiot.
But when he pulled out his phone and stared at her contact info, the knot in his stomach grew tighter. It all came down to this phone call. It was easy, actually. He just had to press call, wait for her to pick up, then convince her to meet him for a very important conversation.
He was frozen where he stood, the steady sound of rain on the bus shelter’s roof like white noise in his ears. His heart was pounding, growing bigger and bigger in his chest, pushing against his lungs until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Ripping his gaze away from his phone, he took a few deep breaths and started walking, absentmindedly opening his umbrella.
His hand was clenched around his phone, the chipped corner of the screen digging the reminder into his skin that he was avoiding his task. It was just a call. A call he needed to make. But when he imagined her answering, his mind went blank. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to make sure he didn’t screw this up?
Confront your fear, he heard Dr. Mala’s voice inside his head. Examine it, analyze it, confront it. What’s the worst that could happen?
Well, for starters, he could stutter around for so long that she hung up on him. She could tell him she didn’t want to talk to him. She could ignore his call altogether.
He clenched his jaw in determination. Well, then he would try again! He would find a way to reach her, he would even make an ass of himself by showing up on her parents’ doorstep every day until she either talked to him or told him to fuck off. No more avoiding, no more hiding behind fears of rejection and hurt. That wouldn’t get him anywhere.
The phone was already pressed against his ear and signaling an outgoing call before he could drive himself mad by going over what exactly he would say. Sometimes, he just had to approach the dragon without the axe. Maybe it was friendly.
After twenty eternal seconds, he realized she wasn’t going to pick up. Before his mind could start making up ridiculous reasons for that, he firmly told himself to try again in exactly fifteen minutes. In the meantime, he would just walk around Berk in the rain in his friend’s hideous jacket, definitely failing at not preparing what exactly he would say when he tried her again. But if he already didn’t give a shit about his appearance, there was no way he would avoid the call anymore, either. And hey, if she told him she wouldn’t be friends with him anymore, for whatever reason, then at least he knew where he stood.
That didn’t stop him from drumming his fingers against his leg at every red traffic light, though, or keeping up a quick walking pace because he needed to dump his nervous energy somewhere. By the time his phone signaled him the fifteen minutes were up, he had to orient himself for a minute because he’d walked to a part of town he didn’t immediately recognize. But he decided it wasn’t important where he was right now, and pulled up Astrid’s number again.
His mind conjured up an image of Cam with that Shia LaBeouf video he liked to play in every situation. Just do it! Yeah, Heather’s boyfriend was truly something.
“Just do it,” he mumbled, repeating the sentence seven times in a row before he finally pressed the call button.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Twenty seconds later, it was still ringing, but he didn’t give up this time. Either she picked up or he reached her voicemail.
When the signal suddenly disappeared, his breath caught in his throat. But the voice that appeared was automatic, asking him to leave a message. So he did.
“Hey… It’s me. Hiccup. I- I don’t- I’m just calling because…” He took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you. We need to talk. About… About everything. Like, earlier, when you, you know, left – I probably don’t need to remind you. You said you needed to go home, and I know you meant home to Eret because I was at your parents’ house and you weren’t there, so. Um.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. He should have just texted her. Then he could have carefully constructed a coherent message instead of this all-over-the-place rambling.
“Like I said, I really have to talk to you. There is something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago, but I can’t do this over the phone, that would be… Can- can you just call me back? I don’t know where you live and you didn’t say when you would be back or what you were up to, and you’re not answering your phone, obviously, so.” His legs were moving on autopilot, crossing streets, rounding corners. The motion was like water that kept the mill running, namely his sanity. If he stopped walking, he would stop talking.
“You know, maybe I should just get to the point. We- we need to talk about us. I- I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like there’s something between us and… And maybe I’m way off here and misinterpreting– No. No, I actually don’t think that it’s just me, because today, you almost kissed me. I almost kissed you. And I need to know why, I need to know where we stand with each other, because… Because…” His lips kept moving, but no sound came out. A truck drove by him and honked. Hiccup winced and a switch went off in his brain.
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out and his heart stopped for a few beats. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you and- and there’s nothing I can do about it. Believe me, I tried. Remember when I showed up at your wedding and told you we shouldn’t be friends? Yeah, that worked out well.” An awkward laugh escaped him. “I don’t know what you want, either from me or- or from yourself, or your- your husband… But I want to get out of this limbo of trying to forget you and falling back under your spell every time you so much as look at me. It’s like… It’s like you dropped an anchor in me and the tide buried it deeper and deeper in the sand – if that even makes any sense, I just– I can’t go on like this. If there is any chance you feel the same, please call me back. If not, if you’re going to take my advice and resolve things with Eret, then I’m happy for you. But I can’t be your friend anymore. I… I need a clear answer from you.”
Abruptly, his feet grinded to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. Tires screeched behind him and a biker angrily cursed at him, but he didn’t even register it. “I guess… With you going home so fast, you probably decided to patch things up with your husband, and I guess that’s my answer. Or maybe not, what do I know, my judgement can’t be trusted, I once thought I’d be able to get over you. Anyway, when you hear this– Oh fuck, do you even check your voicemails? Well, if you do, just… Call. Or text. Um… Yeah. Bye.”
He ended the call and sunk to the ground underneath a lamp post, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of rain and dirt dampening his butt. Only when something cold ran down his back, did he notice it was still raining. He’d been so absorbed in his message that he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding the umbrella askew, and now his left arm was soaked, the hand holding his phone cold and stiff. When he got back to his feet, he accidentally knocked it against the post and the device went flying, landing in a nearby puddle.
“Fuck.” Before the next pedestrian could step on it, he scrambled to get it back, infinitely glad he’d bought the waterproof version. But when he wiped it on Snotlout’s jacket and took a closer look, he groaned. There was a large crack zigzagging over the screen, and on first inspection, it looked like it went deeper than the protection glass. He tried to unlock it, but it didn’t react to his touch anymore. “Fuck!”
Great, now he had to find a repair store that was still open in Berk on a Sunday evening. Hopefully, he would be able to still accept incoming calls… He cursed his clumsiness with vigor. This was so typical. When – if – she tried to reach him now, she wouldn’t be able to. Maybe she’d leave him a voicemail asking him to call her back and they would find themselves stuck in an endless, vicious cycle.
Where the hell had he ended up, anyway? It looked like he was in a suburb, but none of the streets looked familiar to him, and when he pulled out his phone to check his location, he groaned. Right, smartphone not available. But if he could find a bus stop, he could make his way back into the city. Or he could go back to the Hoffersons and ask for a ride. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.
After a while of walking around and finally asking a passing dog-walker for directions, he found a bus stop and quickly scanned the schedule. He’d made it to the end of the route of the only bus line that even came out here. And it being Sunday, he was just lucky that the next bus would be here in no less than 52 minutes, because he had, of course, just missed the previous one. He could walk back, but that would take just as long, and also his feet hurt. These shoes weren’t made for long walks through puddles. At least it had stopped raining.
So he waited. And waited. And played around with his stupid phone for a while, but it just wouldn’t magically work again, no matter how much he begged it to. After 50 minutes of waiting, it suddenly started buzzing – and his heart climbed into his throat when he saw the caller ID. He tapped the screen frantically, but it was to no avail. His last resort was to try the lock button and hope it would accept the call, but instead, it did the exact opposite. Absolutely fucking awesome, now she probably thought he’d declined her call on purpose. And where was the damn bus?!
The calls kept coming in, but there was nothing he could do except stare at his phone in resignation and jiggle his legs nervously because the bus wasn’t coming. Fifteen minutes and four awkward short conversations with passing strangers later, he embraced the fact that no one would lend him their phone for a very quick call, or a text, anything. There was no way he would wait around for another hour.
Grabbing his umbrella and starting the journey in the direction he hoped would lead him back home, he glanced suspiciously at the dark line of clouds on the horizon. The sunset was beautiful, though. If only he could enjoy it.
Soon enough, it was pouring again. And the calls stopped.
#httyd#hiccstrid#fanfiction#hiccup haddock#snotlout jorgenson#astrid hofferson#when lightning strikes#modern au#a bit of angst with a dash of drama#or the other way around#maja writes#ff#fanfic#how to train your dragon
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