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bluewhale52 · 3 years

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Little Black Book: Your Kindred Spirit

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Jeon Jungkook, your kindred spirit.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, a bit of angst

WC: 6.1k (my largest so far! 😱)

Warning: talk about loneliness, oral sex by the pool, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, multiple orgasm, edging, sex on a chair, Herman Miller chair kink because Hybe got them chairs for their employees while I’m sitting on one from Ikea

A/N : trying some character development this time round, especially since I’m running out of ideas of ways OC can have hot sexy times with her men (3 more to go!). I like being able to explore OC’s backstory and personality more here, and I hope you as readers feel a bit more intimate too with the characters in this LBB universe. As always, likes, reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Enjoy 💜

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You got off the plane, still annoyed. Five hours earlier, you had arrived in your office in Seoul, only to be ceremoniously sent off to Jeju with the order of getting Jeon Jungkook to sign a bunch of papers as well as not returning to Seoul until Monday. You protested, only to have Seokjin, your new unbearable boss, told you that you had not taken any days off in two years and he’d be damned if those days were going to be borne by the firm again.

“It’s all paid for. Flights and hotel. Now go, I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the week.” Seokjin ordered as he pushed you into the elevator. ” But call me on Saturday, hmm?” He added in a whisper. You rolled your eyes as the doors closed.

Five hours later, you arrived in Jeju, and at the first intake of fresh air, you inwardly thanked Seokjin for forcing you to go on a vacation. Maybe, after you were all done with the Jeon Jungkook business, you’d go shopping and get yourself a new lingerie set for your Saturday night fun with Seokjin, as a thank you. MAYBE.

As you entered the arrival hall, you were surprised to find a man in full chauffeur uniform holding up your name. You bowed to him, and he swiftly took your luggage.

“Mr Jeon sent me to pick you up.” He simply stated. “He’s waiting for you at his suite.” You nodded and followed him.

The suite turned out to be a mega luxurious penthouse by the beach. Spacious, modern, floor to ceiling windows with that breathtaking view, and…. an infinity pool on the balcony? You had to stop yourself from gawking too much.

You were asked to wait by the living room as the driver went to the pool and patiently waited for Jungkook to finish his lap before informing him of your arrival. The driver then made his way back to you, to inform you that he would check you in at the hotel. He then bowed and quietly left. You tilted your head and wondered how he could even know which hotel your firm had booked for you, but you let it go- the rich definitely had their own ways.

You turned to find Jungkook getting out of the water, and you swallowed, hard. The many times you had met him, he had always worn something baggy. Never in a hundred years you would have thought that THAT body was hidden underneath all those loose clothing. Thick shoulders, even thicker pecs, and washboard abs. Then those thighs- dear God- sculpted and oh so visible with his wet boardshorts splattered tightly on his skin.

You cleared your throat, then bowed to him. Get a grip, he’s your client, you reminded yourself. “Good afternoon, Jungkook-ssi.”

He bowed back in return. “Hi __________ -ssi.” He sounded shy. “Hope your flight was good?”

“Smooth flight.” As smooth as that skin across your chest. “I’m here for you to sign the papers?”

You sat yourself down by the coffee table and took out a folder. “I’m sure Seokjin-ssi has told you about the settlement? We just need you to sign here, here and here and I’ll send them back to the office to get everything going.”

You went into your work-mode immediately. It was safe, and you knew what you were doing. You in work-mode would not be thirsting over your own client. Jungkook lingered by the door however, water still dripping from his gorgeous body.

“Um, do you need me to get you a towel?” You asked gingerly. Jungkook broke into a small smile and shook his head.

“Sorry, I was distracted.” He went off to grab a towel himself, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he came back, his upper body covered by the terry cloth. “Where do I sign?”

You directed Jungkook, explaining along the way the process of the settlement, what he should expect and what your firm would continue doing on his behalf.

“As agreed, we will not disclose the settlement amount to the media or the public, but this large sum should set off some gossip in the industry, so you’d be rest assured anyone would think twice before mooching off your AI software again.” You grabbed the corner of Jungkook’s towel and dabbed at some dollops of water on the coffee table, worried they could stain the legal documents.

“Ah, sorry, I guess my hair is still wet.” Jungkook said sheepishly. You plastered a professional smile, and resisted tucking his curly hair behind his ear.

“OK, all done, just give me a minute to scan and email these back to the office.”

You moved to scan the documents with your phone and promptly sent them to Seokjin. Jungkook left your side and you heard a splash. Jungkook was back in the pool, but he stayed by the side, head resting on his folded hands, watching you.

You gave him another forced smile. “I’m just waiting for Seokjin-ssi to confirm everything is good. Then I’ll be going.”

“Eager to start your vacation?” He pushed his hair back off his forehead, and laughed at your reaction. “Seokjin told me you would stay here for a few days before going back to Seoul.”

“Ah yes, I was forced to go on holiday.”

“Good thing I asked for you to come here then.” You saw the corner of his mouth lifted into what you thought was a very sexy smirk.

“You asked for me?” Your phone vibrated indicating an incoming email, tearing your gaze from Jungkook and denying him the chance to answer. The email was from Seokjin, who simply replied with a thumbs up emoji. “Ah, I’ve got confirmation all is good. So I’ll get going now then.”

“Stay.”

You froze. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook still had his eyes firmly on you. The shyness you saw earlier was all gone. “Your holiday has officially started. Have a swim with me.”

You laughed out loud at his request. “I don’t have my swimsuit with me, and your driver has taken my suitcase to the hotel.”

“So?” Jungkook smirked.

“Jungkook-ssi, I’m not going to swim with you in my underwear.” You know you needed to leave, but the temptation was getting too large to ignore.

“Just Jungkook, please.” He licked his lips. “And, you don’t need any attire to swim here. It’s very private.”

“Jungkook-ssi, are you trying to see me naked?”

“And if I am?”

You looked at your phone again. No follow up emails, no calls, no messages. Work had stopped for you. However, Jungkook was your client, a very valuable one at that. This couldn’t be good. But as he said, your vacation had started. Well, you only live once, you told yourself.

“If I’m swimming naked, so are you. It’s only fair.”

Jungkook shuffled in the water. Then his board shorts landed with a loud splat at the poolside. “It’s only fair.”

An hour or so later, you sighed as you spotted tints of orange streaking across the sky. You had to give it to Jungkook for this place- from where you were sitting at the pool, you got a mesmerising view of the sun setting, blood orange angry against the cool blue of the horizon. What a sight.

You sighed again, as Jungkook’s tongue glided against your folds. HIs tongue felt so smooth against your throbbing sex, and a flick of his tongue released a deep moan from you. You threw your head back, your body leaning back supported by your elbows, and you spread your legs even wider for him.

The flicking of his tongue went faster, no doubt encouraged by your moans and the start of your thighs shaking. You gasped for air as your climax was nearing. One of your hands shot out and grabbed Jungkook by his hair, pressing his head firmer against your sex as you rode his mouth. His big doe eyes opened up and met yours immediately, and you cursed- how could anyone who looked so innocent could be so sinful?

You ground your core harder against his mouth, and his tongue went to overdrive, determined to have you come before the sun set. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, the pink tip flicking your nub determinedly, his eyes never leaving yours. Your tightened core finally snapped, and screaming his name, you came, just as the sun set at Jeju Island. What a sight.

~~~

You raised an eyebrow when Jungkook ordered another bowl of ramen. It had been a couple of months since your Jeju fling, and you were surprised when Jungkook suddenly turned up at your office, inviting you out to dinner. Your first instinct was to reject him- you did not like fraternising with clients- but his big doe eyes did you in.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “how long have you been back in Seoul?”

Jungkook slurped his noodles. “A couple of days.”

“Oh, are you here for work?”

He shook his head. “I was bored in Jeju.”

“Well, I hope you’ll get to have some fun here.”

He nodded again, eyes still downcast, focused on his bowl. You let silence sit between you; he seemed to still be very hungry, and you did not want to interrupt him eating. He stole glances at you timidly, as if he had something to say but did not have the bravery to say it out loud.

It amazed you how Jungkook could have such a duality. The person in front of you was painfully shy, nothing like the flirtatious sex god that left you trembling throughout your vacation in Jeju. You watched him eat, and his demeanour suddenly threw you back to your university days, when you isolated and buried yourself in books, sacrificing social life for those top graduating spots in law school. You recognised loneliness, having gone through it yourself. Your heart softened even further for Jungkook. When he finally finished his meal, he wiped his mouth and smiled apologetically at you.

“You must be busy,” he said, mistaking your quietness for impatience, “I’m sorry I disturbed you and forced you to accompany me here.”

You shook your head. “I should be thanking you for getting me out of the office. I need to stop being such a workaholic. Probably because I don’t have much of a social life, I just bury myself in work.” You offered an opening to Jungkook to open up.

“I guess we’re in the same boat.” He admitted sheepishly. “It’s not that I don’t have friends, I just… have some trust issue.”

“I would be too if I were in your shoes.” You knew enough of his history from handling his settlement case. He made it big at such a young age and the media elevated him to be the next big tech superstar, which only sent sharks sniffing around him. The case you had helped Seokjin handle, the one that sent you to Jeju to conclude it, involved names of people Jungkook thought he could trust.

“What do you do for fun?” He asked.

“Uh well… I don’t have many hobbies, really.” You were a bit thrown aback by his question, “Some weekends I just pick a random line on the subway and ride it to the end and back. If I see something interesting, I stop and check it out. It’s a habit from law school, it helps me de-stress.”

“That sounds really interesting. Do you do that by yourself? Or with friends?”

“Most of the time I go by myself. I like being alone. I mean, five days out of a week I have to continually talk to and interact with people. My subway time is my time for myself, I guess.”

He nodded at your answer. “I understand what you mean. I like being alone too, especially after big meetings and promotional stuff.”

You smiled at him. “Sounds like we’re pretty similar.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “do you play games?”

“Computer games? Not really, no.” You laughed as Jungkook scrunched his nose lightly. “Just Maple Story, I guess.”

“Do you want to go to the arcade with me? There’s one just around the block.” He blurted it out quickly, as if he had been waiting for the perfect time to ask. You cleared your throat. You were happy enough to accompany him for dinner, sometimes clients expected that, but going to the arcade? It felt very personal.

“Jungkook-ssi,” you started.

“Just Jungkook, please.” He reminded you.

You took a deep breath. “Jungkook, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I can hang out with you, like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I just thought, you know, we had fun and got along well in Jeju, so…” He shrugged his shoulder and looked down at his hands under the table.

“Well, we agreed what happened in Jeju stays there. And if you want to do it again, I’m for it, but we’ll have to lay down some ground rules.”

His brows furrowed. “I don’t want sex.” He sounded insulted. “I just want… your company. Not in that way. Just, you know, spend time together. With you. Because, I just think we’ll get along well. That’s all.”

You blinked at his confession, and you raked your brain to come up with a response that would not insult him any further. However before you could think of anything, he asked, “Are you not allowed to date your client?”

“Um, is the arcade supposed to be a date?”

“It could be if you want it.”

You rubbed your neck. This was going worse than you had thought. “I’m allowed to date whoever I want. I just… don’t do dating or relationships.”

“Because you’re a workaholic?”

That went straight to your heart. “Maybe,” you answered slowly, “though I think it’s more because I’m selfish. I like my free time for myself. I like not having to compromise on anything. I like making decisions by myself without having to worry about the other person’s feelings.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“I do sometimes, but I like being alone so loneliness is sometimes welcome.”

“And when it’s not?” He leaned forward.

“I call some…. friends.” You blushed a little. “And we spend time together, and that’s good enough for me.”

You inhaled deeply. It was odd saying it out loud, and you felt a little twang in your chest. You were reminded of the times when you returned to your empty, dark apartment after your rendezvous with one of your ‘friends’ from your little black book. Most times you were just happy to go to sleep or do whatever else it was you did at home, but there were the rare times when you wish your living room was not so sparse or your bed so cold. You had to admit it to yourself, you did feel lonely.

“Can… can I be your friend?” Jungkook asked, his voice so soft you struggled to hear it. “I do like spending time with you, and I trust you. And we had fun. And I’m not expecting Jeju all over again, it’s just… I don’t know, I just trust you.”

Your heart ached for him. He sounded so lost and so small. Perhaps two lonely people could find some comfort in each other.

“I’d love to be your friend, Jungkook.” You answered, and he gave you a relief smile in return. “Now, I need to clarify my definition of friends, just so we’re clear from the start.”

~~~

You realised Jungkook had liked too much your definition of ‘friends’, and although you had warned him repeatedly that there would be no feelings involved and no sleep overs, you suspected he had developed a crush on you. When he was teaching you to play League of Legends, he liked you sitting on his lap. When you were cooking ramen for him, he liked to stand behind you,rubbing the hem of your top. When you were getting dressed after your session with him, he would, without fail, tell you how much he liked the particular office wear you had on, which made you think that the man very likely had a business suit kink. You regularly reminded him- and yourself- that this arrangement was strictly of no strings attached, but you had to admit, it was nice to have him do all those things to you.

You also realised that Mondays were good to spend with Jungkook. The time spent with him not only chased away your Monday rage and put you in a good mood for the rest of the week. Especially when his chiseled chest was pressed tightly against your back, and his hips snapping wildly behind you, so determined to have your moans and wails travel through your apartment walls to your neighbours’. You threw your head back against his shoulder, and his hand snaked down to rub your clit as his mouth descended on your neck.

“Come on, cum for me again, pretty girl.”

You gasped for air at his hoarse voice, and you closed your eyes tightly as he pulled your second orgasm out of you, keeping his pace fast and steady as you rode it out. You panted heavily as you came down, your back felt slick with sweat against his chest. He pulled out and let you collapse onto your bed, the pure linen sheet felt so good and cool against your heated skin.

Jungkook gingerly flipped you over so you lay on your back. Caging you with his thick thighs, he leaned down and suckled on your tits, moaning against them as your fingers weaved themselves between his silky locks. His mouth left your breasts, and he straightened himself up while grabbing your ankles up and resting your legs on his chest. You shook your head.

“Kook, give me a minute.”

He chuckled. “Did I tire you out already? I remember you having better stamina than this in Jeju.”

“I was on vacation.” You hissed between your teeth.

He grabbed his cock and pushed it in you again. You arched your back when his swollen head penetrated you. “Just enjoy it, then. I’ll do all the work.” He winked. “Two more, pretty girl.”

Damned him and his competitive streak. He had sheepishly asked you if perhaps he could make you cum four times, to break his record in Jeju of three in one night. You were too excited to agree, but you were paying the price now- your whole body felt too sensitive. You wondered if you could wake up for work the next day.

He soon bottomed out in you, and he started to slowly pump himself in your hole, allowing you to recover before he sent you falling over the cliff again. He kissed your ankle, trailing his sinful mouth down towards your calf. You moaned at the sensation, and he, sensing you were more relaxed, picked up his rhythm .

You hands shot up above you to grab the edge of your bed, holding on for dear life when he began to fuck you faster. All you could hear now was the smacking of his skin against yours, and his low guttural groans when you clenched yourself around his cock. He held onto your ankles tightly, and his eyes watched your breasts bouncing in time with the movement of his hips.

“So good, feel so good, Kook.” You breathed out.

“Yeah?” He licked his lips. He pulled out until only his head was nestled in you, and he smirked as your hips writhed, wanting his length back in you. He slammed himself back in you, making you shout in pleasure.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He repeated the movement, and you screamed his name. He went a bit faster, encouraged by the slick that continued to lubricate his cock, and the tightening of your pussy walls every time he slammed into you. He suddenly leaned down towards you, bringing your legs with him, and you moaned loudly at the new depth his cock was reaching in you.

“You OK?” He asked, when he saw your face scrunching up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you hissed, “it’s just so deep. Ah, Kook, fuck me hard, I’m close.”

Jungkook was only too happy to oblige. Pounding his cock into you almost animalistically, he sucked on your ear, knowing it was your extremely sensitive spot. Your legs were soon flailing around his shoulders, and your body jerked and shuddered as your third orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through it, but you felt his hips stuttering and he immediately pulled himself out of you.

“Fuck, I almost came.” He panted, but his finger immediately zeroed in on your clit, rubbing little circles on it, prolonging your orgasm. You squirmed under his hand, whimpering as your sex pulsated against nothing. When over-sensitivity came, you weakly pushed his hand away.

“Water.” You requested weakly.

Jungkook kissed your tummy before getting up. “Don’t fall asleep, we still have one more.”

You grabbed a pillow and half heartedly threw it at him. He caught it easily and giggled as he made his way to your kitchen. You lay back on your bed, trying to still your trembling body. It was good to be friends with Jungkook.

~~~

Jungkook’s place in Seoul was a far cry from his opulent penthouse in Jeju. The postal code was prestigious, but the apartment was modest, and in your opinion, more representative of Jungkook. He had entrusted you with the entry code to his door, so you made your way in straight from work after a particularly hellish Monday. You found him in his office slash gaming room, and you squealed when you saw him by his desk.

“You got a Herman Miller office chair?” You slid your hands over the chair, resisting the urge to hug it. “Do you know how much I want a Herman Miller chair? I sit on my ass eight hours a day, Jungkook! This baby would cure my sore back.”

Jungkook looked at you amusingly while you oohed and aahed over the chair he was sitting on. “Do you want to sit here?”

“No, no, no!” You stopped him from getting up. “I can’t. I told myself I would only sit on a Herman Miller office hair if it was mine and only mine.” You smacked his shoulder when he started laughing. “It’s my fantasy, OK! Yeah, my fantasy is to have this in my office.” You rubbed the back of the chair lovingly.

“Why don’t you just get one?”

“Jungkook, it’s $1,000 at least. I’m not spending that kind of money.”

“Well, get your boss to get it for you.”

You guffawed. “He complained about how much we spent on coffee pods, I’m sure he’d buy me a Herman Miller chair.”

“Well,” he rubbed his chin, “I can buy it for you.”

“Jungkook, as much as I want to say yes, I’m going to say no, because one, I wouldn’t even know how to report it to HR, and two, I can’t make you spend that much money for me!”

“Well we’re friends, aren’t we? Can’t I buy a gift for my friend?” Jungkook was spinning in his chair, wiggling his eyebrows. “Let me buy it for you. Just say it’s a gift from an anonymous client?”

“You’re ridiculous.” You grabbed the arms of the chairs to stop him spinning.

“And you’re hot.” He blurted out, and immediately blushed. You felt heat rising to your cheeks too. Shy guy was slowly making way to flirty sex god.

“It’s just a basic blouse and a skirt.”

He cupped your ass. “Yeah, but this skirt really makes your ass look amazing.” He moved his hands to your chest. “And your breasts look so tempting.”

You bit your lower lip as he massaged your tits and let out a shriek when you heard fabric tearing. Sex god Jungkook arrived, and he had just ripped your blouse.

“Jungkook! That blouse cost-”

You lost your voice as Jungkook pushed the cups of your bra down roughly to gain access to your nipples. You mewled when his lips closed in on one of your perky nubs, while his fingers tugged the other. Losing your footing, you fell forward, and his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“I’ll buy you another one.” He released your nipples and helped you hike your skirt so you could straddle him.

“Damn it.” You said breathlessly. You felt your juices soaking your panties, and more leaked out when your sex rested atop his hardening member. “How many times are you going to make me cum tonight?”

He hummed against your breasts as his hands roamed over your stocking-covered legs. He kissed and licked your breasts, before enveloping your nipple back in his mouth. You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to him.

“Maybe just once,” he said between sucks, big doe eyes looking up to you, “but I promise it’s going to be a good one.”

Your body went rigid when his large hand cupped you, his finger sliding along the slit over your pantyhose and underwear. His mouth went back to attacking your breasts, and you could do nothing but surrender to his ministrations. Very quickly, he made you a breathless mess on his lap. He chuckled at your expression, and his hands sneaked up underneath your skirt, looking for the waistband of your pantyhose. He tugged at it harshly, and before you knew it, he had torn yet another piece of your clothing.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you chastised him. “For fu-”

“I’ll take you shopping. Just relax now.” He cut you off by pulling your panties aside so he could insert a finger in. You gasped at the intrusion, and your inner walls immediately clenched around his digit. His mouth left your breasts and he was watching you. You returned his stare, your eyes focused on his face while you enjoyed the way his finger was gliding in and out. Your eyes fluttered when he inserted a second one. You grabbed onto his shoulders, and his free hand guided you to move up a little, simply so he could pump his fingers faster and harder.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He pushed a third finger in and you squealed. “Look at me, pretty girl.”

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, to look at his face. How could someone looking so sweet and innocent could be pulling out moans and screams so easily. Your pussy felt deliciously stretched and he was drawing your orgasm out quickly. Your walls were pulsating erratically around his fingers, and suddenly it felt empty, the orgasm you were chasing disappeared instantly.

“Jungkook, what the-”

He smirked as he looked at his soaked fingers. You tilted your head as your heart beats returned to normal. “Are you trying to edge me?”

He laughed when you smacked his shoulder. “Hold on.” He rolled you both to a set of drawers by his desk. He pulled out a condom, placed the packet between his teeth, then shuffled to pull his sweats down. You swallowed when his cock- hard, angry and red- sprung free. He ripped the foil to get the condom out and rolled it down his dick. Your pussy was clenching hungrily, eager to take in his member.

Jungkook’s hands returned to your skirt, bunching it up around your waist. He smiled at your ripped pantyhose, then with one hand, he tugged your panties aside while his other hand held his cock. You lowered yourself onto him, you kept sinking down on him, letting out a satisfied moan as he filled you in so fully. Your torn blouse was agape, your bra pushed down to reveal your nipples, and that was where his eyes were focused on as you started to ride him, swirling your hips as you went up and down on his cock. You rode him with all your might, eager to chase and get your orgasm before he could stop you. Your clit was rubbing against his lower abdomen, and your body was heated once again. Your pace quickened, your breaths became more shallow, and you were getting close, so close.

However, Jungkook’s hands grabbed your hips and held you above his lap, snapping you out of your near-delirium. He blew at the sweat that had broken out in the valley of your breasts.

“Not yet, pretty girl.” He cooed, and you whined in protest as he pulled out.

He directed you to turn your body around, so that your back was to his chest now, and he pushed his cock into you again. He held your body down, not allowing you to move, making your pussy cockwarming him. He rolled the chair, positioning it just in front of the set of computer monitors. All the screens were black, and you could clearly see your reflections on them. He helped you shift your legs to make you more comfortable while also keeping them spread as wide as possible.

He kissed your shoulder and your neck, while his hips started to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of you. His strong hands were still holding you motionless, and you gripped the arms of the chair, content to surrender your body to him. His cock moved faster, and your body soon tensed again. Sensing your orgasm nearing, he slammed his cock up to bury it in you. You writhed, silently begging him to move, but he kept you still, away from your climax.

“Fuck, Jungkook, please.” You felt like you wanted to cry.

“No, not yet. I don’t want this to be over so soon.” He sounded like he wanted to cry too. “If I let you cum, will you stay the night?”

You elbowed him weakly. “You shouldn’t blackmail an attorney, Jungkook-ah.”

His chest rumbled against your back as he laughed. “You always cum and leave.”

You wriggled your hips and he moaned. “Let me cum now and I’ll stay for a bit.”

That seemed to be good enough for him. He kissed your shoulder before wrapping his hands around your body tight, pressing you against his chest, as he pistoned his cock fast and hard. The movements took your breath away, your head lolled against his as you both watched yourselves on the dark computer screens. Needing to feel more of him, your hand released the arm of the chair and to reach the back of his neck. He kissed the inside of your upper arm, which made you squeal and clench around him further. He cursed at the discovery of a new erogenous zone on you, and he nipped and licked at your skin as his cock continued to pound you.

You felt your orgasm nearing, and your free hand moved down to rub your clit. One of his hands moved downwards too, pulling the hood back to give you full access to your sensitive spot.

“Rub it good, pretty girl, while my cock ruins your pussy.” He whispered gruffly in your ear. You mewled at his dirty talk, and your finger started to move eratically, certain he would not deny your climax this time. You pressed on your clit and rubbed it hard, causing your pussy walls to tighten around his shaft. You closed your eyes when the edge was finally within reach, your body shook and your hand faltered. Jungkook pushed it away to rub your clit himself while you were finally coming, screaming his name. You felt as if you were drowning in pleasure, you gasped for air and you felt a drop of tear escape down your cheek.

Jungkook’s grip on your body became tighter, you were sure he was going to leave marks, which you normally chastised your lovers for, but this time you could barely even care. He slammed his cock into you one last time when your orgasm was ending, emptying himself into the rubber.

You both sat on the chair, recovering from the one mind blowing orgasm. Your pants made way to soft breathing. Your ripped blouse felt sticky from the sweat, and you winced as you tried to straighten your legs while he was still inside you. Content of not moving any further, you leaned back against his hard chest, and you let him hug you and nuzzle your hair. You would stay a little while, you decided, as promised. He was worth spending a bit more time with.

“This chair is worth every cent,” Jungkook broke the silence, “it didn’t even creak once.”

You burst out laughing, and you ended up laughing so much that your stomach hurt.

~~~

Today

“Jeon Jungkook!” You hiss into the phone. “I am going to kill you.”

You groan as he laughs at the other end. You look at the $2000 dollar chair with a big red bow in your office. You have shooed everyone away from your office, including Seokjin who complained that he should get one too since he was the one who got THAT big settlement for that ‘ungrateful brat’.

“You need to get an even better chair for Seokjin, you know. Or we will never hear the end of his whining.”

“He’s treated me to a few meals. I guess it’s only fair I pay him back.”

You make sure your office door is closed before you move to the chair to sniff it. It smells new and promising- you know the moment you sit on it, you will never have a backache ever again, your days will be brighter and you will rise up to the top. Herman Miller will unlock all your potentials.

“Sit on it and take a selca,” Jungkook suggests, “and send it to your boyfriend.”

“Why do I need to show him?” You protest, but you untie the red bow and sit on the chair anyway.

“So you know,” he clears his throat, “you guys can do fun stuff on it.” He drawls as his shyness takes over. You feel your cheeks heated too at the memory.

“Hey,” his voice takes a serious turn and you straighten up, “I don’t think I ever thank you.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I think I’m the one who should thank you? For this amazing chair?”

“I want to thank you for being my friend,” his voice is so soft, but you can hear his emotions clearly, “it means a lot to me.”

You press your fingers to your lips, holding back a threatening sob. “Jungkook, it means a lot to me too that you’re my friend. And please don’t start crying; if you cry, I will cry.”

Jungkook lets out a gentle laugh. “If you cry, I’ll cry, so you don’t start too.”

“We are truly hopeless. But Jungkook, is this what the chair is for? Because you don’t need to-“

“No, no,” he cuts in, “it’s a just-because present. You’ve been going on and on about the chair since... you know when, and I don’t know, when I saw the latest model I just wanted to get it for you.”

“You are too generous, you know that? Don’t let anyone take advantage of your generosity.”

He laughs again. “You’re generous too. You always make time for me, even now when you don’t have to anymore.”

“We’re kindred spirits, aren’t we? Of course I’ll always make time for you. Even my boyfriend makes time for you!” You glance at the clock in your office. “Isn’t it almost time for your pilates class?”

“Yes, your man is signalling me to hang up now.” Jungkook chuckles. “Thank you for letting me be his friend too. He’s been great for my state of mind. All the pilates and the bonsai classes he lets me tag along, I’m feeling much happier these days.”

You hum as you settle more comfortably in your new chair. “I’m happy to hear that, and it means a lot to me you both get along so well. Hey, let’s do dinner this weekend? Let’s crash Seokjin’s place and make him cook for us. It’s been a while since the four of us hung out together.”

“Sounds like a plan. I have to go now, don’t forget to send that selca!”

You giggle as he hangs up. You spin once in the chair, your body and spirit feels a million times better already. You raise your phone up and move it around to get the best angle. Once you have gotten a picture you are happy with, you send it off to your boyfriend.

You [19:02] : I got a present! Come over after your class and let’s take a ride on it 😉 You [19:02] : PS: Don’t change. I like you all sweaty 😋

You smile smugly at your naughty messages, then you realise something. You immediately text Jungkook.

You [19:03] : Kook- is there a warranty on the chair? Just in case we break it.

Published 11042021

#thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #noonasinnetwork #thetruthuntoldnet #purplearmynet #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook smut #Littleblackbook

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements

Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live

Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.

"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.

Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.

You don't want to get caught.

There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.

"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.

The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.

"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.

"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.

Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.

"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.

"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.

"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.

"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.

"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.

"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.

They really added a lot of content these days.

It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.

Not tonight.

It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.

You never left your apartment.

He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.

But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.

You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.

You had become friends.

"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.

"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.

And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.

"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.

"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.

"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.

"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.

"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.

Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.

"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.

This is what you're both good for.

Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.

This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.

The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.

"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.

"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.

"I am." He says.

"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.

But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.

"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.

"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.

"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?

"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.

"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.

"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.

"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.

You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.

He was totally not jealous of him.

"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.

"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.

Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.

His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.

His body is not cooperating.

He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.

And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.

It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.

He liked being reminded how high he lived.

And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.

He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.

It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.

To have you close.

He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.

"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.

His heart had warmed up at that.

And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.

He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.

You even laughed with him.

It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.

And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.

He was a coward-

and you deserved a hero.

"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.

It was dark.

Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.

Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.

A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.

"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.

"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.

"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."

"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"

"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.

"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.

"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.

"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.

"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.

There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.

He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.

The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.

The world was still in utter chaos.

His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.

“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.

There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.

“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.

“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”

He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.

Not even with you.

“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.

Does that mean.. that you like him back?

"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.

He couldn't stay a coward.

"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.

What just happened?

Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.

There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.

What if he hurts you?

And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.

He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.

"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.

If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.

He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.

"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.

He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.

Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.

And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.

But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.

But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.

He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.

He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.

"It doesn't hurt at all."

"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.

He's not listening that well though.

All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.

He want's to change.

And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.

Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.

Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.

You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.

Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!

But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.

"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.

The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.

Although Jungkook hated that part.

"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.

A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.

"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.

He can't just leave you.

"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.

"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.

"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.

"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.

"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.

"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.

"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.

"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.

What?

"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.

You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.

You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.

You hoped he would somehow understand you.

And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.

He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.

You didn't need words to understand each other.

The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.

"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.

You don't trust anyone but him at this point.

"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.

"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.

"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.

"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.

"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.

Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.

Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.

But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.

Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.

The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.

"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.

"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.

After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.

You were still untamed.

Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.

You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.

But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.

And you make him brave in exchange.

It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.

Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.

Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.

While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.

His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.

The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.

"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.

"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.

The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.

To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE-Taehyung

What happens when you reach a breaking point with your best friend? And what happens if maybe you’re a little bit in love with said best friend? Okay, so maybe you were a little bit stupid. And maybe you were a little bit crazy. But things always work out in the end. Right?

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, Angst, Fluff, Kim Taehyung, V, Taehyung, Taehyung x you, Taehyung x reader, Best Friend AU

Genre: Angst, with a fluff ending

Title: Maybe

“I can’t do this anymore. It’s so stupid. And I hate it!” The words tumble from your mouth before you can do anything to stop them, but they’re freeing, and honestly, you hadn’t wanted to stop them in the first place.

“(Y/N)....” Your best friend, takes a cautious step toward you, as if he’s approaching a dangerous, unpredictable wild animal. “Let’s just go back inside....”

“No!” You shout, and then you laugh, because damn, does it feel amazing to finally stand up for yourself for once. “No.” You repeat, slightly more subdued this time, as you stare back at him. “I don’t want to.”

“(Y/N)” He sighs your name, as if you’re a petulant child, and takes another step in your direction. “You’re going to freeze out here.”

Okay. So maybe you were a little drunk. And maybe you were being a little irrational. And maybe, you were actually starting to shiver, as the rain continued to cascade from the night sky. And maybe you were feeling a little stupid-standing at odds with your best friend-in the dark, wet alley behind the bar.

But no. You weren’t going back inside. Not this time.

“I don’t understand you, Taehyung.” You stumble over his full name, not used to the way it feels crossing your lips, as you stand your ground, watching him advance toward you, sneakers drenched, dark, curly hair starting to flatten to his forehead.

You laugh again, swinging the pair of discarded heels in your hand, as you do a full circle in the alleyway, looking up and letting the rain drip freely onto your face. And then you’re coming to a stop, and you’re facing him again, and and the desperate, clawing anger and hurt and betrayal is forcing its way up your chest and out your throat once more.

“I don’t understand you.” You repeat, hair now dripping icy streams of water down your bare shoulders and back. You hadn’t thought to bring a coat. “All you do is talk about her.” Your voice is thick, and suddenly, you’re swallowing hot tears, and your words are growing unsteady. “And she’s not even good to you. You’re always venting to me about her, but for what? Why are you staying? I could be so much better for you than her, Tae! I give a damn!” Your fingers are splayed across your chest, and there it is, all out in the open now.

“I know, (Y/N).” Taehyung says, and his voice is placating, and the look on his face makes you sick to your stomach-sympathetic and pitying and altogether grotesque. He reaches out a hand, and his fingers brush the wet, chilled skin of your arm. “Let me call you a cab....”

“No.” You wrench away from his touch, and your heart is loud in your ears, and you can’t look at him anymore. “You’re just saying that because you want me to shut up. Look, Taehyung.” There it is, his full name again. You shoot him one last fierce glance as you turn to head in the direction you think the front of the bar is in. “When you actually want to say that to me, and mean it, you know where to find me.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls out your name, but you don’t look back, bare feet slipping on the slick, rain covered cobblestones.

Look. Maybe you hadn’t gone about it in a sane way. But maybe, just maybe, you had meant every single damn word you had said.

*******

At work on Monday, it takes everything inside of you to focus on the stack of paperwork that lies piled, waiting for you, in a large, gleaming, ivory tower on your desk. And by the third cup of coffee of the morning, you’re not sure whether you’re focusing, or whether you’re floundering.

Maybe you have the worst hangover ever, in the history of hangovers. Or maybe it’s the fact that Taehyung hasn’t texted you, at all, since the night of the incidence. Or maybe, it’s simply because the office coffee is shit.

Whatever the reason, you’re struggling.

And the appearance of a certain dreaded someone in the doorway of your office, makes everything seem suddenly, very much, worse.

“Shit.” You swear under your breath at the sight of her overly glittered shoes appearing in the edge of your vision, a direct contrast to the drab carpet, as you sigh, and putting aside the paperwork you had been staring at for the last hour, manage a small, polite smile. “Eve. What can I do for you?”

She steps inside your office space, seeming to mull over the degrees framed on the wall, before she finally turns to you, an overly fake and patronizing smile stretched across her red lips. “Oh, (Y/N), I actually came to talk to you about the Lueber Case.”

You grind your teeth, as she sits down in the chair opposite your desk, and begins to inspect her long, manicured nails. “Okay. What about it?”

“I’ve decided I’m passing it off to you.” Eve states simply, still not looking up from her nails, although you swear her lips pull back in a malevolent gesture, that’s probably meant to show her rhetorical fangs and intimidate you. She finally looks up at you, as if realizing you’re there, and more important than her present manicure. “I’m bored with it.”

Something inside of you boils at her words, and you bite your tongue, because the only thing you can think of saying in that moment is something along the lines of, ‘Just like you’re bored with Taehyung?’

Your boss smirks, tossing long, ebony hair over her shoulder, as she leans toward you slightly. “So? Will you take it?”

You know she’s only asking to be polite. She knows that you have to do exactly as she asks.

And maybe, it’s the smug look on her face, or maybe it’s the fact that she’s treated your best friend like shit for the last two years, or maybe it was the fact that you were simply done doing what she said, but for whatever reason, the next word out of your mouth caught you both by surprise.

“No.” You said firmly, pushing aside your pile of paperwork, as you took her full on, her eyes darkening and brow furrowing at your obvious noncompliance as you stood, placing your hands palm down on your desk. “No, I will not take your case, Eve.”

“Excuse me?” The woman in front of you stands, lips pulling downward with anger as she regards you coldly. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said.” You take in a deep breath, steeling yourself, before looking her directly in the eye. “No, Eve.” You feel your own rage and anger, tucked inside for two years, start to erupt to the surface, like magma kept beneath the earth’s crust for too long. “I will not take your case. And I will not,” You step out from behind your desk, catching her by surprise, as she takes a sudden haltering step back from you. “sit by anymore, and listen to my best friend tell me how you treat him like shit.”

Eve’s eyes narrow at your words, but you hold your ground, as she steps toward you once more, bringing you nose to nose, as she hisses out between clenched teeth, “You little bitch. I knew you had something to do with his sudden silence.”

Maybe you were a little caught off guard to hear that Taehyung hadn’t called Eve either. Or maybe you were just feeling lighter, getting everything off your chest finally.

But for whatever reason, her words made you smile, and you couldn’t help it as you let out a slightly, shocked laugh.

“He didn’t call you either.” You laugh again, suddenly feeling a million times lighter than you had that morning.

“Shut up.” Eve snaps, eyes dark with fury, as she backs away from you toward the door, waving her trembling finger in your direction. “You’re fired. You hear me, (Y/N)?” Her voice has risen in volume, and she’s practically screaming at you from the doorway now. “You’re fired, (Y/N)! Get the hell out of my firm!”

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you were absolutely insane.

Because, picking up your purse, you walked past the frantic and enraged Eve with a smile, leaving the office for the last time, feeling amazingly more light than you had an hour earlier.

******

Taehyung still hasn’t contacted you.

But maybe, just maybe, everything might turn out to be okay after all.

Because he still hadn’t contacted Eve either.

Sitting down at the table in your apartment, you carefully lift a mouthful of noodles to your lips, blowing on the hot food, as you reach for the newspaper you had discarded there earlier.

Scanning through the job listings, you hum a meaningless tune to yourself, as you dare to the take the first bite of your ramen.

Maybe that was a mistake.

“Ouch. Shit!” You swear, the boiling noodles burning your tongue, and subsequently your throat, as you swallow hard, before stumbling out of the chair and to the kitchen, gasping to try and cool your mouth, as you turn on the tap and, not bothering with a cup, lean over to put your lips beneath the cold stream of water.

Straightening up after a few relieving seconds, you turn off the faucet, and glancing down at your sweater, which is now stained with a large watermark down the entire front, you swear once more. “Dammit. Good one, (Y/N).”

There is a knock at the door.

Glancing up, caught off guard, you carefully make your way back to the front room, and cursing your landlord for not including a peephole, you sigh, before reaching down to pull open the door.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of him. Because maybe, you had thought, deep down, that you’d ruined your friendship, that he’d never speak to you again. And maybe, the sight of him, standing there in your doorway, hands dug deep into the pockets of his favorite plaid pants, has your heart beating just a little faster than normal.

“Hey.” He offers you a rueful smile after another moment of silence, tilting his head slightly to the side, as his swath of dark, curls tangle cutely over his forehead and brow with the movement. “Can I come in?”

You swallow, and nodding, step to the side to allow him into your apartment, self consciously tugging at your still wet sweater, as you close the door behind him, and follow him into your living room.

“Are you always just wet?” Taehyung asks teasingly as you come into the room, and face him, standing awkwardly at arms length from each other, as if not sure what to do next.

Your mouth goes dry at his words. Dammit. How did he know how much he affected you? Was he really asking.....

Taehyung motions to the stain of water down the front of your sweatshirt, and your cheeks flame, as you pull back from your previous thoughts. “Oh, um.” You wipe a hand down the watermark, and bite your lip, avoiding his gaze, and hoping you aren’t blushing as much as you think you are. “You caught me at a bad moment.”

There is silence again, you looking at the carpet, his hands still in his pockets, as he moves awkwardly from foot to foot, and you recognize the same sneakers, now dry, that he had been wearing that night.

“(Y/N)...” Taehyung finally breaks the quiet with your name and a heavy sigh, just as you start to speak as well.

“Taehyung...”

You both stop, unsure of who should go first, and finally, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, Taehyung chuckles softly, before motioning for you to continue.

Maybe you’re just feeling bold, or maybe you’re tired of keeping things in, but whatever the case, you’re caught off guard by what you choose to say next.

“You didn’t call Eve.” You blurt out, immediately noting the strange look that crosses your best friend’s face at your words.

He sighs, reaching up once more to rub at the back of his neck, a habit of nervousness he has done ever since you have known him. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why?” You ask, before you can stop yourself. You’re in too deep now. Might as well face the music.

“Well, because...” He hesitates, dark eyes finally looking into yours once more, mouth twisted into a serious line as he considers. “You were right. I put up with shit I shouldn’t have, for a long time.”

You watch him for a moment, normally handsome, carefree features pulled into something tighter, pinched, worried.

“You didn’t call me either.” You say next, quietly, softly, almost as an afterthought under your breath.

“I know.” Taehyung doesn’t look at you now. “I was scared.”

You’re surprised to hear the words leave his lips. Kim Taehyung, as far as you know, has never been scared of anything, in all the years that you have known him and been by his side. Not through primary school, not through high school, not through college.

No, Kim Taehyung is fearless.

But maybe, just maybe, you had never considered that you might be the one thing he was afraid of.

“Why? Have you seen me?” You joke, trying to lighten the sudden serious mood, not sure how to hand this side of your best friend. You motion to your wet sweatshirt. “I’m a disaster.”

Taehyung lets out a laugh, though it is not his usual, and a lot less humorless, as he brings his eyes up to yours once more, and your breath catches in your throat at how serious he is, pupils dark and wide surrounded by the warmth of his irises. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“I always want to talk to you.” You shrug, tilting your head curiously, as you wait for him to explain.

He sighs, and reaches up to rake a hand through thick curls. “I know. And that’s the problem.” He offers you a slightly rueful smile, and takes a small step toward you. “You always want to talk to me. And I’ve taken advantage of that. And I should have been listening instead of talking, (F/N).” He breathes in, and suddenly, you realize how close he has gotten in the past several seconds.

You swallow, but hold his gaze, fingers twitching at your side, because damn, in that moment, do you just want to reach out and take his hands in yours. “Listening to what?” You breathe out, scared to disrupt the space between the two of you.

“Listening to my best friend.” His lips pull up into half a smile, and you’re distracted for a moment, by the way his dark eyelashes brush his tan cheeks when he blinks, and the way his pink, full lips form his words around bright, white teeth. “You were right, (F/N). I just didn’t want to hear it, so I kept coming up with excuses. But.” He reaches up carefully, and lets his fingertips, feather light, brush down the skin that covers your cheekbone. “I wasn’t in love with Eve.”

“Oh.” You say stupidly, not quite sure what to say in the moment, and slightly overwhelmed with the smell of his cologne washing over you, and the way his thick knit sweater frames his wide shoulders, and the way his fingers feel against your skin.

“That’s all you have to say?” Taehyung grins suddenly, and chuckles slightly, before letting his fingers trail down your face to your chin, as he tips your head back so that you’re looking directly up at him. Something in his warm, caramel irises changes as he watches you, darkening and swirling, pupils suddenly blown wide. “Where’s all your brutally honest and snarky wisdom that you’ve always used to put me in my place right now (Y/N)?”

You shrug halfheartedly, heartbeat loud in your ears. “I don’t know. Now that you’re finally listening, I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Better take advantage of that.” Taehyung teases in a low tone, although the joking doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which have dropped down the length of your face to your lips.

Your heart feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest, as he tightens his fingers slightly around your chin, keeping you in place, as he leans toward you, slowly, his lips parted only barely, as his gaze flicks up once, to meet yours, before he leans even closer than before.

He’s so close, his lips are almost brushing your own, your whole body feels as if it’s quivering with anticipation, and the feel of his balmy breath washing over your face, is almost enough to destroy every last shred of will you have.

Maybe you’re feeling especially bold. Maybe you’re just ready for the years long wait to be over. Or maybe the need to kiss Kim Taehyung is just too damn much.

But whatever the reason, before he can close the last centimetre between the two of you, you’re leaning into him and ending the space between the two of you, and your hands are going to the back of his neck, tangling into the ebony curls there, as you pull your body flush against his.

You have never kissed anyone whose mouth fit yours more perfectly than your best friend’s.

It’s hard to breathe, the feel of Taehyung’s soft, silken lips on your own, the way his tongue darts out, hot and liquid, to trace the shape of your mouth, it’s all making you feel lightheaded and dizzy and way too sure that this is all a dream.

He pulls back from you, slightly, just to catch his breath, and there is a brief moment of nothing but heavy breathing between the two of you, foreheads resting against each other, lips swollen and scarlet from the kiss, and then, without warning, he leans into you once more, and murmurs into the corner of your mouth, “I love you.”

You can’t help the smile that slides across your lips at his words, and turning your face toward him, you curve your mouth around the shape of his jaw, and breathe back in reply, “I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

He grins, you can feel the motion against your skin. “I know, (Y/N).”

Maybe it’s the way he says it. Or maybe it’s the way the words echo in your head, as he covers your mouth with his once more. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s your best friend and you can tell he’s serious.

Because, no maybe about it, you know he means it this time.

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (10/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9]

The play wasn't horrible by any stretch of the imagination. It was the most fun Clarke had had in a long time. She laughed so hard at parts that tears sprung to her eyes and her cheeks started to hurt by the end of it. The 1920s décor and costumes were stunning, the performances captivating, and the story the perfect balance between humor and social commentary. Even Lexa, who already knew the jokes and twists, still laughed loudly.

Clarke took as much joy from the sound as she did the play. When the curtain fell for the last time and the lights fully came on, she looked over at Lexa and found herself captivated. Lexa was still clapping for her cousin’s success, her face beaming with pride, and Clarke couldn’t really explain why it made her adore this woman so much more.

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked her.

Clarke nodded mutely, unsure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She let Lexa take her hand and lead her out of the theater, where the crowd spilled out of the great glass doors.

Cocoa Street was the longest street in Costial, cutting through the city in a curving fashion. Clarke's favorite part was the food trucks; rows of them on both sides with their own specialties and flair. You could very well order duck à l'orange with mashed pumpkin at one truck and a burger with fries at the next one. The Italian ice cream truck was between the rival crab cake trucks and the Noodle Brothers were right next to the Pizza Sisters. There were lines wherever you went, sometimes even street performers to soften the blow of the waiting time. It was absurd and it was wonderful.

They ate Chicago-style hot dogs and curly fries, slowly walking down the street as they laughed about the play. Lincoln had relied on alternate history to weave the visions into his tale, using them for comedic effect in the more dramatic beats. A secondary character had one in the middle of a monologue, suddenly passing out while a crowd rushed over to him. The visions were reenacted with tricks of light and masked characters, reminiscent of interpretive dances.

"Okay, I have to ask," Clarke brought up while they meandered down the street. "The castle on the hill - that's the Polis Hotel, right?"

Lexa nodded. "Lincoln has a complicated relationship with his heritage, to say the least. He's keenly aware growing up in a luxury hotel was a great privilege, but it also messed with his head. He basically shared a home with thousands of strangers for eighteen years."

"I'd always admired Polis from afar, but I can't imagine growing up there. Don't get me wrong, that was one hell of a party, but-"

"It's not a place for a kid," Lexa finished, in agreement.

Clarke ate the last bite of her chocolate waffle and threw the paper in the trash. “You must be pretty familiar with it.”

Lexa glanced at her and smiled. "The cat and I go back."

"Right. That night was a bit intense, even for you."

Lexa let out a laugh, looking away with a hum. "You know, you make me sound quite strange."

Clarke bumped her shoulder. "You pinned me against the staircase - you are strange."

"I didn't… pin you," Lexa replied with a huff. "I was drunk, high off an excellent game of poker… and I saw you. And I needed to be close to you."

Clarke stopped them in the street, grateful they'd left the busy part. "And the Gazette?"

“What about it?”

"You offered me a side job. Just like that."

"Oh," Lexa remembered. "I genuinely thought you'd be good at it. Still do. Your style would be perfect."

That was surprising, but Clarke wasn't convinced. "It wasn't because of your vision?"

"It was a way to talk to you, yes, but I meant it. I know the visions were… well, the reason for this, that they nudged us together, but I'd noticed you drawing before."

They walked a bit further before Clarke took a small breath. "I, uh, may have looked at the pages in older prints."

Lexa glanced at her. "And?"

"It could be fun. I'm just not sure-" Clarke scrunched her nose. "I'm just so rusty. Art is what I got into college for, but then I took up business classes and… I don't know, it just felt so much easier. Don't get me wrong, managing the café kicks my ass every day, but I like the challenges. With drawings, paintings, whatever… it feels like putting your heart on the line each time. And nine times out of ten, your heart ends up getting trampled."

Lexa took her hand to stop her. "I would never suggest you do something that makes you uncomfortable. If it's truly just a hobby to you, a way to pass the time, you should keep it that way."

It wasn't like Clarke hadn't considered it. Drawing, sketching; it came as naturally as breathing. She'd done it since she could hold a pencil and she still did it whenever the world became too loud. It was an escape; a different way of thinking. Her own little world. Illustrating short stories could be a welcome breath of fresh air. A way for her brain to snap away from bills, calls, deliveries, and the hundreds of post-its in her tiny office.

"And for the record," Lexa added as she stepped closer, her voice impossibly soft, "I would very much stand in the way of whoever or whatever would try to trample you."

Clarke grinned, very much aware that, not so long ago, these were not words she could have ever imagined Lexa Woods telling her.

* * *

As she had the last time, Lexa insisted that she walk Clarke back to her apartment. After a night full of laughs, great food, and Lexa's hand in hers, Clarke still didn't have her fill and so didn't tease Lexa too much for also wanting to enjoy every last second. When they made it to her door, Clarke turned around and leaned against it. Tonight couldn't end here.

"By the way, you were wrong earlier. My vision isn't the reason for this." Clarke waited a beat before playing her last hand: "It's not the vision I thought about that night after the rooftop."

Lexa's mouth parted open and she glanced at Clarke's lips.

"I was going to," Clarke continued, "but it didn't hold a candle to how you made me feel when you grabbed my hand."

Lexa swallowed when Clarke reached for her jacket to tug her closer. "How did I make you feel?"

Clarke pulled her in until their foreheads touched. "Warm. Dizzy."

"Dizzy on a rooftop? That's a safety hazard."

"Are you trying to turn me on or are you trying to make me laugh?"

"They're not mutually exclusive."

They broke into laughter anyway. Lexa leaned in to kiss her, only to stop just as their lips brushed.

"You never told me about your vision," Lexa pointed out. "Not… not exactly."

Clarke smiled, smug. "Oh you want details, hm?"

"I'm a journalist. A thorough account would be nice, yes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her before crushing their lips together, unbelievably pleased when Lexa moaned and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Shut up, journo," Clarke husked between kisses.

Lexa kissed her with little restraint then, moving until Clarke was pressed against the door. Each one of Lexa's kisses felt like something special; like finally she'd shed her old fears. Clarke didn't even want to think of not being close to Lexa right now. The night couldn't end - not like this. She pulled back and gazed at Lexa, trying to catch her breath.

This close, Clarke could commit to memory every detail of her face. She'd always thought she got a good look at Lexa at the café, even with the counter between them, but it was nothing compared to this. Lexa's lips were full and at their most tempting when slightly parted, betraying her own desire. Her eyes were hooded now, longing, and Clarke had little doubt hers reflected the same want. She threw caution to the wind:

"Come inside?"

Lexa hesitated, visibly torn.

"We don't have to do anything. I have a nice wine we can try. Some of Gus's tartlets left over. We can even sit with the box between us. I just… I don't want tonight to be over yet."

* * *

It was not what she'd had in mind. She swore it. Nevertheless, when Clarke found herself straddling Lexa on her living room couch with the box of tartlets discarded on the floor (the tartlets well finished by then), she couldn't remember why the hell not.

Maybe the air had already been too charged by the time she wiped her thumb over Lexa's lip to catch a crumb there, and maybe Clarke had liked playing with fire, but now she was well on her way to being burned. Lexa's hands palmed her ass while they kissed, but it was the boldest she allowed herself to be and Clarke was quickly reaching her breaking point.

"Touch me," she pleaded between kisses.

Lexa let out a choked moan when Clarke reached for her hand and guided it to her breasts. She paused, looking up. The green in her eyes had darkened, especially in the dim light, and she breathed deeply.

"Clarke…"

"I know, I know, just - something. Anything." Clarke leaned her forehead against Lexa's. "I feel like a fucking teenager."

Lexa let out a small laugh before kissing her sweetly, slowly. It had the soothing effect she had intended, and before Clarke realized it, Lexa had lied her down on her back. She hovered over her, then looked down at her cleavage and pressed her lips against the exposed skin.

"Is that better?" She asked.

"Close…"

Lexa let out a hum against her skin, pressing another kiss lower. Clarke brushed her fingers in Lexa's thick hair, digging just slightly in her scalp, surprised when Lexa let out a small moan and then froze with wide eyes, like Clarke had just found her secret.

"Oh," Clarke breathed out, her smile widening. She repeated the gesture, pressing her fingers just a bit harder.

Lexa immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them down on each side of Clarke's head.

"Don't do that," she warned her, breathless.

Clarke smirked. "I think I will."

"It was just a reflex," Lexa blushed. "It's been a while."

Clarke couldn't help but laugh, happiness bubbling in her chest at how comfortable she felt with Lexa's body slotted between her legs. "Well, I'm very happy to find out whatever draws out those sounds from you."

Lexa seemed to realize just how close they were, locked together with their fingers entwined. And just like the rooftop when she'd suddenly grabbed her hand, her expression changed. Confident. Eager.

She sat back, eyes trailing down Clarke's body before she let go of her hands to touch her thighs.

"You like control, don't you, Clarke?" She asked. She ran her hands up her thighs, caressing them slowly. "But not now."

Clarke nearly lost her breath, not expecting the way Lexa had shifted so quickly from embarrassed to self-assured. She watched as Lexa drank her in, from her bunched up dress to the fast rise and fall of her chest.

"Touch yourself," Lexa told her, and then leaned down to brush her lips against hers. "The way you did after the rooftop."

"Lexa-"

"I want to watch you."

Clarke nodded, her hand trailing down her own body to the bottom of her dress. Lexa watched as she reached beneath the fabric, eager to follow her command. She slid her hand beneath her tights, beneath her underwear, moaning at the relief when she finally touched herself. She knew Lexa could feel her heat; knew they were both reaching a point of no return. It had started when Lexa had kissed her at the start of their date, but Lexa's hands on her ass while they'd kissed had awakened her completely.

Lexa briefly glanced between their bodies, groaning when she saw Clarke's hand moving.

"Is this how you did it?" She asked. "Two fingers?"

Clarke let out an obscene moan, too far gone to care. "Three," she whimpered.

Lexa's jaw clenched, but her control was remarkable. "Did you imagine it on the rooftop? Me inside you against that wall?"

Clarke's eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip. "Yes. Fuck."

She swiped her fingers over her clit, but the angle and her tights restricted most of her movements. She was fairly certain Lexa knew it. Lexa leaned down again, kissing her neck.

"How did I fuck you?" She asked by her ear, one hand reaching up to lightly brush against her breast.

Clarke panted, fighting the unbearable need to penetrate herself. She needed release, and fast, but a part of her was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"You pressed me against the wall," she revealed, burying her face in Lexa's neck. With her free hand, she dug her nails in Lexa's ass, feeling a thrill when Lexa bucked against her. "And then- I… I needed more. I needed you deeper."

"So I turned you around," Lexa guessed, squeezing her nipple over the fabric of her dress.

"I- oh, fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you inside me; how well you'd fill me," Clarke said, her middle finger trembling from the angle, desperate to inch inside herself.

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathed out in the space between her neck and shoulder. Her lips felt like heaven against her skin. Clarke couldn't get enough.

"Clarke," Lexa repeated, raising her head. "Look at me." It was softer then, more of a plea.

Clarke opened her eyes and felt her movements slow down. It was like experiencing déjà-vu, except of course that was impossible. They'd never done this. But she suddenly realized it had all started here. She'd had her vision on this very couch and here she was - not fulfilling it, exactly, but close. Yet what she'd seen and even felt had never been like this. It had been purely physical - an erotic thrill in her otherwise predictable life. But she hadn't felt her heart beating out of her chest. She'd had a sense it was more intimate than what she was used to, but hadn't been able to quite grasp what that meant. She knew now. Their intensity wasn't so much physical as it was emotional.

She felt safe with Lexa. They still had so much to learn about each other, but she felt safe. And Clarke had never realized the importance of it. Lexa had trusted her with her pain and her heart - that wasn't something Clarke took lightly. It was a feeling not even her vision could have conveyed.

"Fuck, wait, wait, stop," she abruptly panted, pulling her hand out of her underwear.

Lexa backed away immediately, but Clarke sat up to stop her from moving off the couch.

"Lexa, I… I want to be with you," she said, as if remembering her vision had suddenly clarified everything. "When you're ready, I want to be with you completely."

"I want that too." Lexa still seemed confused, or maybe surprised Clarke had done the equivalent of dunking ice cold water atop her own head.

“Right. And - this is fun. I-” Clarke’s eyes briefly closed as she bit her lip. “Fuck I really want to get off-”

Lexa smiled.

“-but not like this.” Clarke reached out to cup her cheeks. “Not without you.” She kissed Lexa briefly, barely a brush of lips, and watched as her eyes followed her every move so tenderly. “Not if I don’t get to touch you too.”

"Clarke…"

Clarke shook her head, kissing her way down Lexa's jaw and neck. "Not if I can't see all of you. Can't hear you moan my name." She licked over Lexa's pulse, enjoying the way her hips bucked against her. "Not if I can't taste you while you come undone."

Lexa pulled back and brushed away some of Clarke's wild strands of hair. "Such words… You should be a journalist."

"I hear they have egos."

"Oh yes, terrible."

"I'm glad I found one that's not so bad then."

They smiled at each other, then took a breath.

"Sorry," Clarke sighed. "I feel like I'm the one giving you whiplash now."

"No, it's only fair. If anything I admire your restraint."

Clarke leaned back against the arm of the couch. "Maybe you'll just have to work harder next time."

Lexa smirked. "I can do that." She glanced at her breasts. "At least I made new friends."

Clarke let out a laugh, enamored. "Alright, well, you and my tits can pick up this conversation another time. I need a shower and if you're not gone in two minutes, I'm definitely dragging you in with me."

Lexa hummed in agreement.

After Clarke walked her to the entrance and watched Lexa put on her shoes and jacket, they lingered in the doorway.

"Thank you for tonight," Clarke said. She had never felt like this before - a part of her desperate to find a way for Lexa to stay. A way to prolong the conversation. To ward off the night so that Lexa and her could just live in this moment a while longer. "The play, the food, this… Everything."

She hoped Lexa felt the same.

"Trust me, it was my pleasure," Lexa replied, her face still slightly flushed.

"You've set the bar high."

"You took me to a secret hike. I was just trying to catch up."

At Clarke's smile, Lexa bit her lip and toyed with the button of her jacket. "Anya used to say I reacted to everything with either fight or flight. I didn't prove her wrong when I left for Costial, but I don't want to run away again."

Clarke nodded in understanding.

“It just… creeps up on me sometimes,” Lexa continued. “I could be having the time of my life one second and the next my chest gets tighter and the world gets smaller. Suffocating.” She gave her a resolute look. “When I meant slow, I meant… I just need to be sure that feeling won’t come between us again." She glanced at her lips. "But… It also means that once we do cross that line, I intend to make up for lost time.”

Clarke swallowed, fighting the urge to drag Lexa back inside. "I'm a patient woman."

Lexa smiled. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Mm. Text me when you get home?"

"I will."

[part eleven]

#clexa #f: a bit of clarity #w #can you believe these two

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christineeej94 · 4 years

Text

Neighbors ❤

Arón Piper x Reader

a/n: I appreciate all the likes i got for my first attempt and now I want to write another one, a little bit longer and more interesting. I hope you guys gonna like it and I wait for your requests. Kisses 🌻

Content: The reader is moving to Spain, she meets Aron by chance because they live in the same block. They are starting to see each other very often and after a few weeks they become a couple.

Warnings: bad writing and some inappropriate language.

Word count: 1732

♠♠♠♠♠

When I decided that I want to move to Spain I don't know what was on my mind. It was a radical decision and now I'm in new apartment who has a beautiful view of Madrid's streets. I like to seat here, drink a cup of coffee, read a book or just admire the breathtaking view.

I admit that this city is so mesmerizing and full of life, but I'm alone, I live my family in Italy and come here to find something. I leaved everything, my home, my family and my job at the gallery to find something now, an adventure. I'm looking for inspiration for my paintings and I think here I can find it. Today I want to spend my time on streets with my camera and take pictures of people, animals or whatever I consider that deserve to be painted. I dressed with a colorful dress and some sandals. I pinned my hair in a pony tail and I take anything I need for this walk. I locked my apartment and I start going down the stairs. When I went outside the bright sun blinded me for a few seconds so I put some sunglasses and start walking to nowhere. Today is a great day to get some inspiration and the locals are already on streets and at the local markets. I photographed some kids eating ice cream, an old couple reading a newspaper on a bench and a lady at the flower shop. Walking down to the historical center I seen three guys at a table and they were drinking a coffee. I wanted to photograph this state but the sunlight blocked my view. They look so handsome and very masculine. I took courage and come closer to them table.

A blonde guy, a boy with black hair and another one with brown curly hair are looking curiously at me when I got in front of them.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N) and I'm a professional photographer and also a painter. May I take some photos of you?" “I promise it will be quick” They are looking at me like I am a crazy lady. Maybe I’m but that’s another story.

They smiled at me and starting to talk to each other in Spanish. I didn't understand a word and now I realize that maybe they didn't understand me in the first place.

“First, I’m Miguel” the blonde one present himself. “He is Itzan and he is Arón” Miguel pointed first the black hair guy who smiled at me, then the curly boy who looks so good.

"Nice to meet you." I smiled. "Can I start?"

They approve and I ask them if they can be natural like I was not there. The boys are really born to be models because the final result was amazing. After I finished i give them my contact data if they want the photos. Miguel and Itzan were very excited and I talked with they a little. They explained me that they are actors and it is very regular for them to be photographed. That beautiful guy, Arón, didn't talk at all and he was already gone after a we finished. I was happy that I met these nice guys and I ensured them that if they need something, they can call me.

When I have arrived home, it was already dark outside. I made a bowl of instant noodles and I stayed on my balcony, watching the light and enjoying my diner. I googled for the three boys I met today and I’m surprised and shock because they are famous. All of them are acting in this series called “ ÉLITE”. I start watching the first episode when load voices and extremely load music are coming from my neighbor above me. It’s half past the midnight so it’s late for a party, especially in the middle of the week. I put a hoodie on my summary pajamas and I walked up the stairs to my neighbor’s door. I hit hard the black door and after a few minutes a tall boy with curly black hair was sitting in front of me with a beer in his hand, smirking at me.

“Can I help you, princesa?” I don’t say anything because I didn’t understand what he’s saying.

“You are shy? Come in, the party is already started” He speaks in English this time and he drags me inside. “I’m Jorge by the way”

“I’m your neighbor, (Y/N)” I finally speak and we enter in a room full of people who are dancing and drinking. “Sweetheart, I don’t live here, I’m just a guest” he explains and I want to leave, I’m not welcome here and I don’t know who own this apartment.

“Hey, Jorge, who is she” a familiar voice is heard from behind I turn around. Miguel is sitting in front of me with people I don’t know, but I recognize some faces from the “ÉLITE” first episode. Miguel looks surprised to see me there. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” He is happy to see me and I’m also happy to see him. He hugged me and present me to the group. “But seriously, what are you doing here?” “I live in the apartment below.” “I didn’t know you are living here, Miguel, I apologize for the inconvenience” He looks confused for a second. “I’m not living here, Arón is” he explained. “Stay, we are gonna have so much fun.” I looked down to myself and I've seen a very messy outfit which is not appropriate for this kind of party.

“Hey, is that the girl from the coffee shop?” “¡Ai, que hermosa!” Arón screams from the terrace and he’s walking like a zombie to us.

“I apologize for him, he was drinking too much, you know, he got his heart broke.” Miguel support Aron and the curly head boy is sending me kisses. “Maybe I should go home, is pretty late.” “Nice too meet you guys.” I greeted the group of people and I go home.

All night I couldn't sleep, I only see Arón face in my mind and I can´t stop thinking of him. His beautiful eyes and his smile are so stunning. I don't know him at all but he seems a nice person and I would like to know him. But he is a star and I'm just an ordinary girl. I started my day terribly, I'm tired and I don't feel like getting out of bed too soon. Yesterday I received an email about a job at a fashion magazine and today I’ve to be there at 12 p.m. At half past 11 I was sitting in front of elevator. When I entered Arón was inside looking in his pone. First he didn’t notice me so I decide to greet him.

“Hey.” my voice sound like a strangled cat. “Oh, hey there, (Y/N) right?” I approve and I’m looking in other direction. He intimidates me with his presence. “I’m sorry for last night, I wasn’t myself.” “It’s alright, I’m used with parties and load people” I said and we get out of elevator. “Where are you going now?” “I'm going to an interview for a job at Cosmopolitan Spain and I am pretty late.”

“Let me drop you, it’s on my way.” I accepted because I was late. In the car he asks me so much questions and we figured out that we have many things in common. “Come with me at a barbeque this weekend, it will be fun and I gonna present you to my friends” He said when he dropped me at the Cosmopolitan offices. “Sure, why not.” I blushed when he winked and smirked at me. "See ya, hermosa." "And good luck."

After two hours I was already home. I slept all day and I woke up when my phone started ringing.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” “I’m calling you from Cosmopolitan offices, congratulations, you got the job, you can start on Monday.”

I was excited when I heard the news. I can’t believe I got the job. I spend the rest of the night dancing and watching my new favorite show.

After 3 weeks

I open the door to let my best friend to come in. Arón puts the chips and the beers on the coffee table and sits comfortable on the couch. It's Friday so it's the "Euphoria night". We started together this series and he loves it. I don't like it that much but I adore to spend time with him. Arón it was a good friend for me from the beginning. He is teaching me Spanish and I made a lot of friends here thanks to him. We start know each other very well, but he doesn't know that I like him so bad. We flirt a lot but it’s more like a joke.

“I don’t like that guy, Nate” I commented and he laughed. “It’s a bad guy, (Y/N), you don’t like bad guys?” He smirks at me and I rolled my eyes. “I like you” He takes it like a joke and start laughing. “Pero soy un mal cabrón” he looks at me inappropriately and he smiles suggestively. I love when he is talking in Spanish. “You are such a playboy.” “Of course, that’s my middle name” He shows me his middle finger and I hit him softly in his left arm.

After a few hours we are sitting on my balcony admiring the sunset. I start to love Spain so much and I love the boy next to me who is smoking the fourth cigarette in the past 30 minutes. He observes that I stare at him and he smiles. “I know I’m beautiful, stop looking at me like that.” “Sorry.”

“But I don’t outdo you” he takes me in his arms and start singing his lyrics from ‘Vicio’. “What are you doing?” I laugh and he giggles. “I’m singing for my future girlfriend” He answers and I blush. My heart stops beating for a couple of seconds. “What?” I mumbling. He stopped and raised my face. “You are the most beautiful person I ever seen, you are kind and you are so talented” “And I like you like a crazy man” I can’t stop smiling after his declaration. “Do you want to be my crazy woman?” “Of course, mi amor” I answer and we kiss softly.

#aron piper #aron piper imagine #elite imagine #elite #acting #photos #madrid #spain

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sextonsharpwinhalstead · 4 years

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@sarahreeese here’s your reesker prompt! merry christmas!

She’s sitting on Sarah’s lounge chair. Her feet up casually on the end. Her long milky-colored legs are hypnotizing. She’s a painting, she’s a masterpiece. But who hung it? How the hell did she get in Sarah’s apartment?

“The fruit really is better here,” Ava takes a deep bite into her peach.

Sarah’s peach.

“Dr. Bekker?...uh, what, how-what are you doing in my house?”

She went back to the peach, it was true, they really were better down here. The sweetness clean after each bite.

“I heard the weather was similar here as in Pretoria.”

Sarah casually threw her bag in her armchair, still not taking her eyes off the painting in front of her. She knew very little about Ava. A talented surgeon who often butted heads with Connor. Sarah could relate. His ego and sway in the hospital was one of many reasons Sarah had to go. Her fathers were the first.

“That doesn’t answer why or how you got in here.”

Sarah’s moving to the kitchen. Ava rolls her eyes and goes back to her peach.

“I admire the move Dr. Reese, what an adventure! Oh, and the hair.”

Sarah puts a few curls behind her ears, the ones that always fall in front of her eyes. Her long curly bob makes sense for the hot Texas weather but the observation makes her blush. As does the perplexity of this uninvited visit. Ava’s so high on her ego she isn’t paying attention to Sarah, who’s in her kitchen plugging up her dead phone. She’s going to call the police. This behavior is a deviation of the norm. A social violation. She begins to make some iced tea. Ava is still enjoying her peach. Sarah walks to the living room and sits. Her long legs crossing under her flowing skirt. Her presence is enough for Ava to actually pay attention. Sarah isn’t the unsure resident anymore, the woman sitting across from Dr. Bekker feels formidable and her curiosity isn’t satiated by a so called “adventure” explanation. The rube she was hoping for doesn’t live in Texas. Ava rolls her eyes again.

“Fine, I had a bit of a falling out with Connor, I don’t think Gaffney is where I belong.”

Still not pleased. Fuck.

“Everyone is so loyal there, turns out Connor has a few more allies than I do...I know you left too, men can be so disappointing amirite?”

Ava giggles nervously at the end. Sarah’s gaze is unnerving, one she never gave much attention to. Obsession will do that, all Ava ever saw was Connor, Sarah was one of the only memories of anyone she could recall, someone who didn’t seem like a such a goody-goody...and then there was the subject of her parentage.

“Why are you here?”

Dammit.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to get away from a place where your name is sullied?”

Now Sarah is rolling her eyes. She goes to the kitchen and slices a few lemons. The tea has steep long enough. She fills two glasses full of ice, freshly brewed tea, and garnishes it with lemon. Her phone is at five percent, she’s left her good charger at work.

“Dr.Bekker-.”

“-Ava.”

“Ava, why are you here? In my apartment? How’d you get in here?”

Ava looks down at the nut from her peach.

“And don’t tell me it’s because ‘the froot is so much betta heyre.’”

Her mouth is agape at Sarah’s impression of her, but then she smiles and so does Sarah.

“You didn’t talk past me like Connor was the only one capable of surgery, everyone else did...I didn’t make very many friends when I was in Chicago.”

Sarah’s raises an eyebrow. Bitch.

“Fine, I didn’t make any friends other than Connor.”

“How did you get in here?”

“The building manager, I told him you were my girlfriend and if he just let me in I’d tape us and let him watch.”

Now they both are laughing. He’s fired. Between his butt-crack showing, his bad breath tainted with chew, and his constant unwanted advances, Sarah has had it. She’s pretty sure he messes with the hot water heater so she’ll have to deal with him.

“I admire what you did, I mean that, you left and didn’t look back and I want that too.”

Sarah knows it isn’t the entire truth but it’s enough, the details aren’t her business. Sarah’s phone is still too low to turn on and she’s getting hungry. She pulls a pot out to begin boiling water, her eyes periodically on Ava who is doing something strange. She hasn’t looked at her phone once. She wasn’t reading anything on it and she hasn’t checked to see if she’s missing any calls or texts. Sarah knows it’s the part of the details she hasn’t gotten.

“Who are you avoiding?” Sarah asks as she sets a plate of pasta in front of Ava.

“People are so boring, is there really any other way to deal with them other than to avoid them?”

Fair enough. Sarah’s phone is at twenty-five percent. She could make the call but she keeps catching herself staring at Ava’s long neck, the way she licks her lips after slurping up her noodles, the lure of her hazel eyes which seem to have the same curious gaze as Sarah’s upon her.

“She did make that girl-on-girl joke.”

Sarah allows Ava to tag along on her plans. She was planning a walk along the lake and then grabbing a bottle of wine before tucking in a movie. Ava has other ideas. She tells Sarah to leave the bottle in the car and soon they are at Pegasus. Does Ava know? Sarah’s been visiting a few of these places lately.

“I’ve decided I’m done with men, you with me?”

Ava’s invitation is more than enticing, it’s how Sarah’s been living her life here in Waco. They walk up and hand their I.D. to the doorman and Sarah gets an eyeful of Ava’s and realizes for the first time what seems different about her. Ava’s hair is brown but her I.D. is blond. Immediately the bartendar who looks too gay to function recognizes Sarah. He starts with her favorite mix drink and gives her a look at the woman to her side. Sarah blushes a little as Ava orders two shots and a glass of whiskey.

“Oh, no I’m good.”

Sarah is frowning at the drink,she isn’t a shot girl.

“Come now, don’t make me drink these alone.”

The shots go down easy and energize Sarah to the dance floor. She’s a better dancer than Ava would think. She can find a beat, and Ava can’t help but pull her towards her. Their thighs meet as they gyrate. Her stare is more intense than a minute ago. What does she want from her?

“I have to work in the morning!”

Sarah yells over the music so they grab a Lyft home leaving Sarah’s Prius at the bar.

When they open the door Ava is pulling Sarah in to kiss her. Her lips are so soft. Ava seems prickly but her skin, her lips, they’re soft. Sarah pulls away.

“You can take the couch if you need somewhere to crash.”

She’s not going to let Ava sleep her way to a bed. Besides, no matter how nice the day has been Sarah can’t shake those hidden details of Ava’s impromptu visit.

“Do you really want to end the night this way?”

Ava leans in for another kiss and Sarah kisses her back. But it is. She has trust issues.

“I can’t.”

Ava huffs as Sarah opens her linen closet and pulls out a couple of blankets. She tosses them Ava’s way. They lay awake on opposite walls. Sarah wondering how the energy of her little apartment has been thrown off by the stranger in the other room. Ava is wondering how long she can keep her secret.

Sarah is making coffee, her movements wake Ava who follows suit and is in the shower. There’s a loud shriek coming from the bathroom.

“Ah, it’s cold!”

��Oh, yeah give me a second!”

Sarah sets off down the hall to the building manager’s office. The knob twists but the door won’t open. Sarah pushes at it using minimal strength to no avail so she has to bust at it using her shoulder.

“Damn! Tony, where are you, what’s going on with the door?” she started as she walks towards his office, “The wa-.”

She’s stopped in her tracks. Tony is sitting in his chair but he’s not moving, he’s so stiff. His eyes are still open, they are somewhat opaque. He’s not there. Her hand quickly goes to her mouth, poor Tony.

Sarah’s heads back to her apartment, she’s somewhat dazed. She’s seen dead bodies before but on her terf, her time. Not like this. She grabs her cell phone.

“Sarah?”

Ava is out of the shower, obviously cut short because of the temperature. Sarah’s already dialed 911.

“I don’t know why I didn’t use the office phone,” she says to Ava, “-Yes, I’m here, there’s a man downstairs, my building super... he’s dead…-yeah, no-my name is Dr. Sarah Reese, trust me he’s dead.”

Sarah hangs up the phone and turns to talk to Ava, who is packing her things, quickly.

“-What are you doing?” Sarah asks, “You might need to stay to give them a timeline, he looks like he’s been dead a while.”

Ava isn’t listening she’s piling her things in.

“You have a medical background, between you and the coroner I don’t see how I’m going to be helpful.”

“You spoke with him earlier you may have been the last-.”

Sarah stops. Deviation from societal norms. Ava is zipping up her bag.

“Why did you dye your hair?”

Ava is putting on her shoes, she’s in flight mode. Sarah can hear the dispatch on the other line.

“I’m still here, send a patrol too.”

That stops Ava. She stands up.

“Just give me 20 minutes to get ahead.”

She plows past Sarah and is running down the hallway. Sarah is still too shell-shocked; confused. Ava doesn’t need twenty minutes, the police and EMT’s arrive in thirty. It’s not like it’s an emergency.

“Just to confirm she’s about 5-7 or 5’8, 120lbs hazel eyes and blonde hair?”

“Yes, blonde.”

Why did she lie? She doesn’t know the cause of death for Tony and this is just stupid. But she holds to the statement, goes to work and goes back to her life.

She takes her normal Thursday night stroll on the lake. She lets a few ashes go at a time. They are the ashes of the newspapers of her father’s case, the missing posters, and blurbs of his victims. She lets those pieces go here.

“What do you drop in there?”

The unmistakable accent, her voice. Sarah’s heart is racing. What is she doing here?

“What are you doing here Ava?”

Sarah is trying to hide her fear. She knows now what Ava’s done. To Cornelius and probably Tony too.

“I told you I like it here.”

She takes a step toward Sarah and Sarah takes a step backward.

“Dr. Reese, you’re not afraid of me are you?”

Sarah takes a step forward. She’s doing her best to hide her fear.

“No, you don’t scare me Ava.”

Ava takes a step closer, her face inches from Sarah as she smiles. She lets Ava kiss her, she wants to kiss her. She wants to remember her lips. Their night dancing and drinking.

“Come with me,” Ava breathes.

“I can’t, you’re a fugitive Ava.”

Ava steps back, her brown hair makes her eye color sing, it’s a tune Sarah would gladly hum if she hadn’t already sang like a bird to the police.

“What is it about you?” Ava wonders as she studies Sarah’s face.

“I’m still finding that out,” Sarah answers.

Ava steps back again and is quickly gone.

A postcard once every few months from Oklahoma, California, Alaska, London. Always the same message.

“Come with me.”

#chicago med secret santa #reesker

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lets-talk-appella · 5 years

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i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 1/25 - Beca’s Prologue

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely, straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott's "If Our Love Is Wrong."

Thank you to everyone who has shown interest in and support for this fic, and a MASSIVE thanks to @acabellas, because without her it wouldn’t even exist. Stay litty, fam!

Word Count: 4k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters) Title borrowed from Calum Scott's "If Our Love Is Wrong."

AO3 and FFN

Keep reading below the cut:

Note: This fic is not inherently sad, but it’s not a happy fic, either. It’s a life fic, one that focuses on Beca’s difficulties in coming to terms with her sexuality – which she will not label in this fic – as well as depicting struggles that she and Chloe go through in developing their relationship. Themes of guilt, shame, and self-hatred are discussed, as are depictions of homophobic attitudes and comments directed toward several characters. I chose to write it this way because these are real struggles and challenges faced by many in the LGBTQ+ community. I will place trigger warnings in chapters that are more intense or contain slurs and homophobic language. I hope that, by having these issues in fic form, we can explore the LGBTQ+ experience through Beca’s eyes and find strength to face those struggles together, and eventually, be freed.

TW: homopobic/hate language

Beca’s first crush is on Dylan Erickson. They’re in kindergarten, and she likes him because he shares his Oreos with her at lunch. He’s cute, with dark skin, brown curly hair, and chocolate-colored eyes, and he always swings with her outside at recess. He holds her hand on the way to the lunchroom and she likes the way that makes butterflies erupt in her tummy. She’s pretty sure she loves him; at least, she gives him the “I love you” hand sign from across their kindergarten room every now and then.

Everything changes when a new girl, Melissa Simmons, joins their classroom following winter break. She looks a lot like Beca, with brown hair and dark blue eyes, and Beca doesn’t miss the double-take Dylan does when he first sees her. It makes Beca angry, and when Melissa smiles right back at Dylan, her blood boils.

Beca doesn’t like Melissa.

But Dylan does. It isn’t long before Dylan invites Melissa to play with him and Beca on the swings at recess. Beca tries to be a good sport about it, she really does, but the little smirk adorning Melissa’s face as Dylan pushes her on the swings tells Beca everything she needs to know.

Once recess is done, it’s time for them to head to lunch. Beca reaches out a hand to Dylan, expecting him to hold it like always, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns to Melissa, leaving Beca to trail behind as the three of them make their way to the lunch room. And Beca tries not to let it bother her when Dylan spends most of lunch time talking to Melissa instead of her, but when Dylan opens his pack of Oreos and hands one to Melissa, Beca sees red.

She stands and shoves Melissa off her chair and down to the gross floor of the lunchroom. She does it because she’s in kindergarten and because she’s pretty sure she loves Dylan, and nothing has ever felt better in her short life. She fully intends to continue to the fight, but then Melissa starts crying and the lunchtime supervisors all rush over, concern written across their faces, and Beca knows she’s in trouble. Sure enough, before she can even blink, she’s being sent to the principal’s office, feeling Dylan’s eyes on her back as she goes.

She’s scolded, but only lightly; they are in kindergarten, and she hadn’t done more than push Melissa. Her real punishment comes after, when she returns to her classroom – lunchtime is over by then – to see Melissa and Dylan sitting together at the same table, hand-in-hand and talking to each other like they’re the only people in the room.

After school, Beca goes home utterly distraught at the apparent ending of her first relationship. Immediately after stepping off the school bus, she flings herself into her mom’s arms. Her mom simply sinks down, wrapping her in a big hug as she cries and chokes out the story. She tells her mom everything, even how she pushed Melissa, needing to get it all out. Her mom only holds her tighter, her fingers running through Beca’s hair as they sit on the curb outside their house.

When Beca is finally cried out, her mom pulls a Kleenex out of nowhere and helps Beca wipe her face. She tells Beca that it’s okay to be sad, but that she can’t let it make her sad forever. When she tells Beca that that kind of thing with Dylan and Melissa happens sometimes, and will probably happen in the future, Beca nearly bursts into tears all over again.

But then her mom says, “I’ll always love you, no matter what,” and Beca smiles, then screeches when her mom lunges forward to tickle her sides. They both fall to the ground laughing until the tickle attack ends and leaves them both straining for air against the grassy ground.

Later, sitting at their kitchen table between both her parents and eating her mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup, Beca can’t remember why she ever cared so much about Dylan Erickson.

Beca doesn’t think much about boys for a little while, beyond the occasional realization that they have cooties and are generally covered in some form of dirt. It’s not until she’s in the 4th grade and Nick Walker moves to her school from Michigan that she finds herself thinking that not all boys are bad. Nick is blonde, blue-eyed, and incredibly athletic even for the 4th grade. He immediately becomes involved in every after-school sport Beca’s relatively small school has to offer and already shows promise to become a high school sports star.

Pretty much every girl in Beca’s grade and in the grade below are beside themselves over Nick Walker. If Beca’s honest with herself, she doesn’t really see why. Sure, he’s cute, but the more Beca hears about Nick, the less she likes him. Beca’s more of a reader than a runner, and Nick seems to only talk about sports, sports, and more sports.

She mostly admires Nick’s looks from afar as he “dates” girl after girl in their grade. Her best friend Kelsey shows her a notebook of hers with “Mrs. Kelsey Walker” written in cursive all over the pages. She seems scandalized that Beca hasn’t done the same. So, Beca tries it, but after her second “Mrs. Beca Walker” scrawled near the top of a page, she decides she’s not really that invested and would prefer not to ruin a notebook.

When Beca’s in 7th grade, she finally gets her period a week before she turns 13. It feels like everyone else had gotten theirs much, much sooner; Alexis McMahon certainly had. At 13, Alexis looks like a 16- or 17-year-old and is the talk of the school. She’s blonde, tall, and very pretty, with curves and stylish tops and skirts that make Beca’s hoodies and jeans look like trash bags.

It’s no secret that all the boys like her and that most of the girls are jealous of her. Beca wonders sometimes if she’s jealous of Alexis, too; she certainly spends more time than totally necessary thinking about her and looking at her. It’s hard not to, when she has three of her classes with Alexis, one of which is gym class.

Kelsey, still her best friend, is in gym with her too, which is fun. They’re on the soccer unit right now, and Beca loves playing on offense with Alexis and Kelsey. Mostly, she likes to watch Alexis, but she also likes to show off a little; she’s pretty good at soccer, and she’s filled with pride when, during one particularly good play, she gets the assist when she passes the ball to Alexis, who scores a goal.

Alexis smiles at her, nodding happily, and it makes Beca’s chest feel kind of funny and fluttery. She keeps staring at Alexis, even after Alexis turns away to reset in the middle of the field. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until Kelsey steps up beside her and hisses, “Careful Beca, someone’s gonna think you’re lesbo.”

Kelsey’s words sting and Beca flinches away. She doesn’t really understand what Kelsey means, but she knows enough not to want to be called that in front of everyone else. And especially not in front of Alexis. So Beca shakes her head, laughs, and brushes it off, not quite meeting Kelsey’s eyes.

She lets her friendship with Kelsey fade gradually after that without really acknowledging – even to herself – why exactly. She starts to withdraw, not letting herself stare at anyone she finds attractive, boy or girl. She doesn’t want people to assume anything, even though she’s not a “lesbo” at all.

Beca doesn’t let her eyes linger on Alexis again.

Beca’s parents divorce when she’s 14. On the day her mom kicks her dad out of the house for cheating on her with one of his TAs, Beca blasts her music at full volume through her earbuds. It’s the first time she uses music to drown out the sound of her thoughts.

She’d liked to spend time with her dad; he’d spontaneously take her to get ice cream with a wink and a “don’t tell Mom,” (which seems ironic now, considering it turned out there were lots of things he didn’t tell her mom) and whenever she couldn’t sleep, he used to sit on the floor next to her bed and hum “Yellow Submarine” by The Beatles until she finally drifted off.

But as she watches Warren – that’s what she decides to call him from now on, now that he’s undeserving of the “dad” title – walk down the driveway and out of her and her mom’s lives, Beca shoves those good memories and warm feelings of her father away and locks them in a tiny box where they can’t hurt her. A strange hollow ache replaces those feelings, opening in her chest and startling her with its emptiness.

As Warren gets into his car and pulls away, Beca’s mom glances over at her, eyebrows drawn together. Beca tries hard to school her expression but knows she didn’t quite fake it well enough when her mom pulls her into a hug and whispers, directly into her ear, “I’ll always love you, no matter what.” Beca focuses on the warm arms wrapped around her, the only secure thing in her life in that moment.

Later that year, the movie Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix comes out. Beca and her mom go to the opening weekend together, both dressed in Hogwarts robes (Gryffindor, of course) her mom had found at a secondhand store. Beca’s sure they’re both feeling Warren’s absence, but they don’t talk about it. Instead, Beca loses herself in the excitement of the crowd at the theater and spends her time surveying others’ costumes. She’s not sure if she’s more excited for the movie or if her mom is; she hasn’t seen her mom smile this much since Warren left.

The theater is crowded and she ends up squished between her mom and an older teenage girl. The girl has an annoying tendency to giggle and fan herself whenever Daniel Radcliffe comes on screen – which is a lot. While he may be kind of cute in the right lighting, Beca finds herself more focused on Emma Watson than anyone else. Hermione is definitely her favorite character.

Beca doesn’t see Warren on her 15th birthday. There’s a rumor floating around that he’s stopped seeing his TA and started dating someone more age-appropriate. It doesn’t matter to Beca, though. She takes the $50 out of the card he mails her and then throws the actual card in the recycling without reading it. Her mom doesn’t say anything, though Beca knows she sees the card in the bin. The double-chocolate cake she makes for Beca is massive that year.

At 15, she gets her first kiss from Drew Metrie under the bleachers at the homecoming football game.

They were sort of dating, she supposes. At least, he’d asked her to homecoming three days prior. The short notice had been annoying, but thankfully, her mom was able to take her to the mall in time for them to find a blue dress that mostly matched her eyes.

The football game is the night before the dance. Beca hadn’t been planning on going to the game, but Drew had insisted. At the game, they sit awkwardly on the bleachers with several of his other friends and their dates. Everyone seems to know each other really well; they talk through most of the game, Drew becoming involved in a heated discussion about… something (Beca doesn’t know or really care), which leaves her to stare at the field in front of her in quiet boredom. She’s pretty sure Drew had forgotten she’s even there. That is, until the third quarter, when he turns suddenly and grabs her hand to lead her down and behind the bleachers.

The kiss is good, she supposes. She doesn’t have anything to compare it to, but it’s still nice. Drew keeps his tongue in his mouth – thankfully – and cups her face gently with his hands. She loops her arms around his waist, and is actually kind of disappointed when he pulls away first.

He smiles at her shyly before they return to his friends on the bleachers. He keeps talking to them, leaving her sitting on the end of the group, but she doesn’t really mind. Her lips – actually her whole body – feel warm and a little tingly for the rest of the game. She does really like Drew Metrie, even though they don’t talk much.

The next night, Drew drives to her house to pick her up for the dance. Her mom insists on taking way too many photos of her and Drew, who’s wearing a suit that’s a little too big for him. The tie matches her dress, though, which is unexpected. Drew helps her down the front steps of her house, even though her heels aren’t that high, and he opens his passenger car door for her, helping her climb inside.

The dance is surprisingly fun, considering it’s being held in their high school’s gymnasium. They dance together and with groups of their friends. It’s really more jumping up and down than dancing, but Beca prefers it that way. The few slow dances that the DJ does play are a little awkward; she and Drew just stand and revolve slowly on the spot. He kisses her again at the end of the last slow song of the night, and again, she finds herself liking it more than she’d expected to.

After homecoming weekend, though, nothing really comes of it. She sees Drew in the hallways sometimes and they always greet each other with a smile and a wave, but nothing more. They only hang out one more time, grabbing dinner one Friday at a local pizza joint, but it’s pretty obvious it’s just as friends. They stay in touch and text occasionally, but that’s it. He doesn’t kiss her again.

Just three days after Beca turns 16 and get her driver’s license, her mom dies in a car accident. Everyone knows you’re not supposed to swerve for animals; it’s one of the first things Beca learned in her driving classes. Yet, witnesses to the accident said that’s exactly what Beca’s mom did when a family of ducks tried crossing the highway in front of her.

It’s the worst day of Beca’s life.

The day of the funeral is a close second, though. She hates having to stand there as scores of people file past, telling her how sorry they are. She gets tired of hearing it after a while and does her best to tune it all out by thinking of music she likes, interwoven with her mom’s voice whispering in her ear, “I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

The realization that she’ll never hear her mom’s voice again makes her mentally blast her favorite music as loud as she can, trying desperately to fill that hollow ache tearing through her chest, reappeared and renewed, a thousand times worse than when Warren left them. She’s not sure this ache will ever ease.

She moves to live with Warren and his new wife of less than six months, Sheila. They’re only half an hour away, so she doesn’t have to switch schools. Not that that really matters; she withdraws from people after the accident. She blocks everyone out, telling herself she doesn’t care when even the friends she’d been closest to eventually give up on her. With her earbuds in and at full volume almost constantly, she builds a wall between herself and everyone else, using music as a crutch.

Living with Warren again is difficult. It makes her angry, and it also makes her sad because it reminds her of how it used to be. She hates seeing how affectionate he is with Shelia when she so clearly remembers how he used to be like that with her mom.

Sheila “the step-monster” is truly unpleasant. She doesn’t try to hide how much she resents that Beca had come to live with them. She never says anything in front of Warren, but the glares she often sends Beca’s way are clear enough indication. Beca tries not to let it bother her; the feeling is mutual.

Beca’s with Warren and Sheila, trailing beside them in the mall one day when two men holding hands, clearly in a relationship, exit a store ahead of them. The sight makes Beca feel wistful for some reason, but makes Warren’s expression harden and Sheila’s mouth twist. Glaring, Sheila mutters something that Beca doesn’t fully hear, but she makes out the words “perverted,” and “in public.” She then asks, more loudly, which of the men is the “woman in the relationship.”

It makes Warren glance quickly at Beca and away before laughing once. Beca frowns at the tiled floor ahead of her; she doesn’t see humor anything Sheila said.

During her junior year of high school, Alicia Harrison – a girl in Beca’s grade – comes out as bisexual. She’s teased mercilessly by her peers, many of whom imply she’s sleeping with the entire student body. Others say she’s doing it for attention and that bisexuality isn’t real. Beca never joins in on the teasing, but she doesn’t stop it when she sees it happening, either.

She makes sure to never mention Alicia in front of Warren or Sheila.

Beca’s 17 and a senior when she meets Carrie Lawson.

It’s only Beca’s second day of work at the music store in the mall, but she already hates it. Her boss is an overweight, middle-aged man who always has some sort of stain on his shirt. His eyes linger too long on her recently-developed chest for her comfort, but she really needs the money. She isn’t sure what she expected – it’s not like she could make her mixes while on the job – but spending all day trying to sell CDs to people is somehow worse than she thought it would be.

She’s already been yelled at by two different customers for being too slow on the register, still needs to learn the layout of the store and merchandise, and has had to restock shelves of Justin Bieber three times already, which, ew. People need to learn what real music is.

The only bright spot in her work life is her coworker, Carrie. Carrie goes to the neighboring town’s high school, which is why they haven’t met before. Beca would certainly remember if they had; Carrie is even shorter than her, blue-eyed, sandy-haired, and very pretty. She’s also incredibly funny, kind, and just as into music as Beca is.

They bond quickly over how creepy their boss is and how crappy everyone else’s music taste is. As they get to know each other over the days and weeks, Beca learns that Carrie lost her mom about three years ago to cancer. They bond over that, too. Carrie is easy to talk to; so easy that she becomes the only person Beca opens up to. They text almost constantly and eventually start to spend time together outside of work, too.

Carrie begins to hug her a lot, sometimes even coming up from behind her while she’s at the register and wrapping her arms around her waist and pressing close to her back. Sometimes Carrie will brush her fingertips along Beca’s arm or across her lower back. Beca’s surprised to realize how much she likes the affection; she can’t remember the last time she let someone hug her. At her mom’s funeral, maybe? It’s not like she lets Warren or Sheila touch her, and she’s driven away her friends. It’s been a long time since someone touched Beca, and she’s missed it.

She tries not to overthink it.

But then, suddenly, it’s all she can think about.

She misses Carrie’s touch, Carrie’s presence, Carrie’s voice, Carrie’s perfume. She misses her friend, even when they only go hours or a few short days without seeing each other between work shifts. Carrie calls her “my little DJ,” and that makes Beca’s chest feel funny. Carrie touches her more and more, texts her more and more, sends her heart emojis more often than Beca would have tolerated from anyone else. Once, Carrie steps up behind her and brushes her lips to Beca’s cheek, leaving a burning imprint before spinning away with a laugh.

They’re not dating. They don’t talk about it. It’s just a thing.

Until it isn’t anymore. Carrie doesn’t show up for work one night, and she doesn’t reply to Beca’s texts. When she still doesn’t reply hours later, Beca calls, only for it to go to voicemail. When Beca becomes truly desperate, she tries Facebook, then email, only to get silence in return.

It’s not until almost a week later – a week filled with fear and stomach-churning anxiety – that Beca’s boss bothers to tell her that Carrie had quit. Her parents had heard rumors of Carrie having a girlfriend at her high school and had shipped Carrie away to live with her religious grandmother, without access to her phone or the Internet. Lip curling with mirth as he tells the story, Beca’s boss growls, “Good riddance. Don’t need a dirty dyke in my store.”

The words hit Beca like a truck. She has to hold onto the register for support as the words sink in. The idea that Carrie’s absence is due to her having a – a girlfriend sends the room spinning. It’s only made worse by the realization that she’s more than a little jealous of this girlfriend.

The thought makes something ugly and unbidden rise within her, something she doesn’t want to address now or ever. Beca instantly shuts down that line of thought before it can really form, locking it behind a cement wall where it presses and strains to be freed, but she keeps it restrained. The touches hadn’t meant anything. They had been brought on by emotional vulnerability and shared trauma. They’d been emotionally close; surely it was just natural for them to be physically close? It doesn’t mean anything beyond that.

She isn’t into girls. She isn’t bisexual. She’s certainly not lesbian. Even the word – so often sexualized or ostracized – feels dirty to her. What she feels for Carrie isn’t gay; they were just good friends. Beca tells herself that over and over again until she believes it, until she’s almost convinced herself. She’s straight. That’s all there is to it. She shoves Carrie forcibly from her mind, locking her into a little box of her own.

She quits her job a few days later. It doesn’t matter anyway, not when she’s graduating so soon and moving to LA (assuming Warren gets over his college kick).

Through sheer force of will, she maintains that she is straight as an arrow and that Carrie – whatever that whole thing had even been – was just a fluke.

Then, at 18, against her will and recovering from her past wounds, Beca meets Chloe Beale.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #beca mitchell #chloe beale #angst #hurt/comfort #some humor #some fluff #little bit of everything #i'm nobody's but yours #tw for homophobic language #slow burn

100 notes · View notes

celestialstress · 5 years

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Sorry @cas-is-a-hunter I accidentally deleted the post, thank god for google docs

Well Quindlen, Quinndiana Jones, buddy, chum, pal your literally all my asks almost all the time thank you ily

This is for my and @itzshira‘s superhero au so they did help me tysm bean, bless

20 head cannons per character because all would be to much (200 in all)

And I will only be doing the ships in a separate post because I can

Roman

A tall boi at around 6’1, tallest boi

High school jock? High school theater nerd? Practices fencing in high school? Yes!

Flirty boi, and will look up at you with a wink well kissing your hand

Quality gentleman but will talk about himself a bit to much on the first date

His tongue pokes out slightly well he is working on stories or reading scripts

Plays the guitar

Quick to anger but will feel bad after, potentially spoiling their boyfriend after they fight unless he knows he's right or is still mad

Has a big family and is the oldest sibling, his siblings steal his Disney stuff and a dog named Princess

His eyes are brownish red but look red in curtain lighting

He and Remy have sleepovers where they will go to the mall spend like $200 and come home with a fashion show for the other

Over protective, but not in a bad way, yes yes there is a bad way (checking of texts and stuff that can make the other uncomfortable are the bad way)

Has made a comic but doesn't show anyone because he is scared of their reaction

“this is my lap now I have claimed it as a seat, best throne in the house”

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Dance Dance Revolution, Uno, and Battleship

Tends to look up well thinking, leaning back on his heels as he does

Will overwork himself but not as often due to his beauty sleep schedule

Usually will tease and joke but is good as ‘reading the room’ and will become serious if need be

An overthinking child, but usually only when they are stressed

He will talk out his feelings but will sometimes hide things he thinks he can handle or are insecure about

VERY gushy about any crush he has “you'll see I'm their prince charming” and stuff like that

Virgil

Another tall boi at around 5’10, second tallest boi even if he slouches

His hoodie is oversized and baggy but it looks great

Sleep? No scrolling through tumblr for hours, same amount of nightmares, but those I can scroll past

His dad is bi and he the two live with his step dad and step brother Thomas

Fight or Flight? Leans more towards Fight

Has a little shadow wolf pup named Fang

Just moved here this year

Has quiet anger, going silent with everyone especially the person he is mad at.

When Virgil found out he had a crushed he probably (hopefully lightly) banged his head in a wall then face planted on his bed yelling "Ahhhhh" into it for knows how long

If anyone asked if he had a crush, even if they didn't specify the crush's name, he'd get defensive and refuse. Though you could probably tell he was lying

He is very bad at opening up to others, he does try but it's hard

Bites his fingernails, to be more specific his right thumbs nail

Walks to and from school with Roman, having usually playful arguments on the way

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Fallout 4, Mafia, and Connect Four

Plays the piano and has learned half of his playlist on it as well as meme music

Roman has entered into his house when it was dark forgetting about a sleepover, just to walk in hearing Virgil playing horror music, or megalovania

But he is also teaching Patton how to play piano, they just started though

His playlist is larger than Roman's ego

Has gotten in a debate with Logan about crocs, no one left happy

Yes yes he does have his pet spider we love her, her name is Luna

Logan

Kinda tall boi at around 5’6, one things for sure, his stance is straighter than he is

Nervous glasses and tie adjusting

Used to be homeschooled

Someone please get this boy a more understanding mother, please our boy needs to understand that he isn't a failed and can relax

Gets really confused when it comes to emotions that aren't an everyday occurrence

Will stay up for days on end rewriting his paper, his cat doesn't help

The oldest in the group, and will use that to get the others to listen to him

Has an older brother who moved out right when he was 18, cutting off all communication with the family

Don't lie to him, he can literally read your thoughts

Nearsighted

Was in debate but almost got kicked out for yelling falsehood to much, so he uses the extra time to hang out with friends

He doesn't like to be held, most of the time at least, he does have his moments

When he has a crush he doesn't realise it and will question himself wait why did I share my crofters sandwich with him? Sure he didn't have a lunch but my crofters

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Portal, Solitaire, and Risk

His selfview gets shattered by a douche named Richard (thank you Shira for the fitting name)

His dad works at home and is usually in his office

Well if one thing is for sure, Logan doesn't handle being upset very well, just don't get them silently mad

He has a hard time passing at classes and when he finally did traded it out for college courses

The smart boi will strategies things, but if one thing goes wrong he will have a very hard time functioning

Rarely flirts but can't take a flirt at all, unless they are mad then don't try but Logan.exe crashing is easy when he is relaxing

Patton

Smolest boi at around 5'1, he loves his height because he loves the tall slouched hugs of his friends.

Commonly wears oversized sweaters and shorts rather than a cardigan and sweater tied around his shoulders

This child is great at sewing, and made the other beans costumes using Roman and Remy's designs

Parents are usually on business trips and rarely home

Also still believes in Santa because “how would gifts get here if my parents aren't here for Christmas” thank you Roman

Has a pet hamster named Mr. Squeakers the first name is Sammy

Patton is more supportive than protective, though when he feels he needs to will block an attack or stand in the middle of a fight (which is more often than not)

He likes to be picked up, and really doesn't care by who most times

Probably has glitter or marker somewhere on him at all times

Farsighted

A cuddler, especially when he is tired, he will cuddle up to one of his friends or a doll and fall asleep

He can bake but not cook, don't let him cook

His hair is a curly mess no matter how much he brushes it

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Animal Crossing, Go Fish, and Candy Land

He does have his cat hoodie but he usually wears it one or two days a week and as pajamas until he can or remembers to get it washed for school again

He was in gymnastics and is a very flexible child

Him and Roman were childhood friends

Will play connect the dots with the freckles on his arm when he's bored

Spends most of his day out of the house doing nothing in particular

When he realizes he has a crush is usually quickly after he gets one and his face goes pure red but he's happy about it

Deceit

Kinda tall boi at around 5'8

A very sarcastic child, usually when he is lying

This bean has vitiligo and it is mostly where his scales would be

Heterochromia as well, one green and one brown eye

Will confusedly shake gifts before opening them if he randomly received them

Has played a game of patty cake in a closet, probably the strangest experience he's had but he enjoyed it

Uses his magic to cheat on tests

Will poke out his tongue when annoyed

Upset Dee is not a Dee you want to deal with they can be very hostile unless they like you

Wears at least two bracelets everyday

An ace boi who we love

He loves his hat, his hat was a gift from his parents and he rarely takes it off

Literally changed some of his wardrobe to match said hat

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Skyrim, Town Of Salem, Jenga

First to learn to drive

He plays the flute, and loves to play simple yet pretty melodies on it

He doesn't like parties but he won't say no if invited, though he usually stays near his friend or where there is the least amount of people

Will sometimes steal something small at parties

He has a pet garden snake named Luka, Luka is a good danger noodle who likes to chill in pockets

Usually wears colored contacts to school to hide his different eye colors

Emilie

Second shortest boi at around 5’3, and he hates his height wanting to be taller

Talking to himself during movies and shows? Yes

A nervous flirter most times but we stan

A lot stronger then he looks, and his sweaters don't help lol

He has a defensive anger and will argue easier when mad, or give them questions to make them shut up so he can leave

Will hide out by himself when mad or nervous as well

An easily jealous bean but we still love him

He loves to cook and is a good cook

Has more sweaters then I have friends

Just barely bad enough nearsightedness to make it so he needs glasses

He used to have fake glasses though now he hates his real ones

Plays the violin and learned the Steven Universe songs

Is a lucky bean, gets a TV in his room

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Kingdom Of Hearts, Exploding Kittens, and Mancala

Holding hands and hugs are a given

Has little action figures and dolls around his room

Bold of you to assume he doesn't have way to many onesies for one person

Shops at hot topic for the fandom merch, but brings Remy because they enjoy everything there

Has a few posters scattered around his room but they are the cloth ones

He is very quick to self blame for instances and think “maybe if I did this-”

Remy

A medium height child at around 5'5, wears five inch heels to add on

Wears crop tops most often but idk where I got that idea from

Doesn't sleep and binge watches cartoons a lot

Addicted to coffee, and will shake without it after a while

Has and will just insult someone who is throwing punches at them and insult said person rather than actually fight in some cases

Their hair is a mess most of the time due to sleeping in and not having time to fix it

They live with their dad, their mom walked out on the family when they were five

They have Aniridia, and are almost always seen wearing sunglasses and watching shows for long periods of time can and is difficult

Has a very hard time opening up about anything, it takes a lot of trust

I guess you could say they've experienced a lot because I don't want to get into it but some of it involves alcohol and parties

Has played seven minutes in heaven once and they ended up literally playing patty cake in the closet because making out wasn't specified

Bold of you to assume they don't have a Scottish Fold, and bold of you to assume her name isn't Belle

Secretly watched all of SU and Adventure Time

Favorite video game, card game, and board game? Mario Kart, Cards Against Humanity, and Blokus

Their eyes have a gold ring around where the pupils should be when they use their magic canceling ability

Will either sleep for a whole day or not sleep for weeks

Has two leather jackets but most commonly wears their more warm out one rather than the newer one

Is the kid who pulled the fire alarm in elementary school

They are really good at rollerblading/ice skating

They ran out of coffee once after almost a week of no sleep and just shut down completely in class

Remilie

They will carry each other, even if Remy is taller, Picani is stronger and Remy is lighter than they seem.

Cuddles on the couch watching SU after making or buying brownies, depends on how lazy they are that day

Remy doesn’t know weather to be amused or annoyed with how people get so confused on the relationship

If they were to propose they would both have a ring ready on the date but Emilie would manage to get it out first, and Remy would just sit there in a excited shock as they pull out the ring they were gonna use

Sharing clothes is common between the two, even if their styles are completely different

The first time Remy took off their heels next to Picani he made a short joke, even if he’s shorter

Emilie will sometimes gain the confidence to flirt without being embarrassed which causes Remy to be even more flushed (less aww but more holy crap)

Remy rarely swears in front of Picani, it just doesn’t feel right to them

Picani keeps their house lights dim when ever Remy comes over so they can keep their sunglasses off

“Remy..? What are you doing..?” “mixing five hour energy, redbull and coffee” concerned Picani noises

Remy will sometimes bring their cat to Picani’s house without telling him beforehand, just because “I didn’t want Belle to be home alone”

Picani got rid of his coffee maker to try to help Remy stop drinking coffee

Remy still manages to somehow get coffee without leaving his house

Picani and Remy make small deals to slowly help the other with their insecurities “I’ll let you borrow my jacket if you can at least try to complement yourself more”

They really don’t fight until one can’t bottle it up anymore and the other impulsively responds

Remy jumping towards Picani not realising he had a drink and him dropping his tea just to catch them

Picani does need some help reaching the higher shelves where Remy will just climb onto the counter

Picani doesn’t want to push Remy to talk and Remy rarely wants to say what’s wrong or something that has happened

Picani is usually the first to initiate a hug, where Remy is usually the first to hold his hand

The insecurities of one is ome of the things that the other loves most about them (Remy’s pure black eyes and Emilie’s talking to themself during movies)

Logince

Forehead touching, and a soft kisses? Yss

One of them will usually give the other random facts of the day

“a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet-” “the rose was the theater next to the Shakespearean theater and it had a sewage problem causing it to stink that was made to mock it” “Logan why-?”

Star gazing on cool summer nights with a warm blanket in a hammock

Roman is really bad with roller coaster drops and will cling onto Logan

Roman is the type of boyfriend who will steal the fries from your plate

Logan enjoys Roman’s random bursts of inspiration where he will excitedly talk about ideas for an hour

Taking dance lessons together

Neither of them will let the other touch their hair unless they are tired enough

Small play tickle fights were Roman will sometimes purposely let Logan win

Roman does try to carry Logan it usually doesn’t end in his favor

The two do tend to fight, as all relationships do, but afterwards they will silently talk it out on the couch until they feel better or at least understand it better

Game nights on fridays

They both refuse to give up on a game of monopoly that has taken them two years so far

Roman will never admit it but he will play D&D with Logan

Watching Doctor who on the couch cuddling with a bowl of popcorn in between them? Definitely

Roman was the first person to see Logan cry, and Logan would be one of the first people who get Roman to talk about his insecurities

Roman is a flirty boi Logan.exe crashing is common (idk why I phrased it like this)

Debates on who's magic is stronger, it ends in more of a tie because neither of them will choose themself

Gentally cuffing the other ones face when they are upset so they would look at them? Yep

Moxiety

Virgil gives Patton piggy back rides

Patton tries to give Virgil piggy back rides but it doesn't work out to well

They have a movie night once a week, one gets to choose the movie every other week

Patton gives Virgil a lot of gifts but will feel bad at times when Virgil gives him gifts because “I have nothing to give you in return”

They will doodle on each other, sometimes just sit there for hours silently drawing on one another

Virgil will sometimes bake with Patton, learning a few cookie recipes from doing so

“okay I'm not letting you cook you usually end up burning yourself, I got this”

Playing with eachothers hair, messing it up and sometimes fixing it

Dancing with each other in the living room when no one else is there

The best hang out moments is when it's raining and they are sitting inside with hot chocolate

Virgil is more protective over Patton, because he knows Patton isn't one to fight people

Patton will sometimes put hair clips in Virgil's hair so he can see both of Virgil's eyes

Hugs are very common unless Virgil states he isn't in the mood to have a hug

Patton found out Virgil was being bullied and refused to leave his side at school even if it means being a bit late to class

“I won't leave your side not tell you won't get hurt and until you love yourself, even then I'm here to stay”

Neither of them really flirt but they do make crappy puns to see the other laugh

Patton borrows Virgil's hoodies and has a few overly sized hoodies in case Virgil wants to borrow them

Patton's ability let's him know when Virgil is upset so he will help Virgil as much as he can to feel better

Virgil took them to an amusement park on their six month anniversary

At the mall Patton would be shamefully holding Virgil's hand, and vice versa. They go to stores that they've been wanting to go to. It's not much shame it's just the world is still not as accepting as they could be of lgbtq+

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xfangheartx · 5 years

Text

Red Strings- Ch. 2

Ch. 2- Inuyasha’s Lament

Sesshomaru pulled up in front of a gigantic mansion that stood at the top of a flight of stairs, prompting Inuyasha to open the back passenger door and get out. "Don't I get a 'thank you'?" asked Sesshomaru. "Yeah, thanks," Inuyasha said before he muttered "pompous-ass schmuck" under his breath. "I heard that," Sesshomaru said. Before Inuyasha could even open his mouth and retort... "My baby!" "Oh, no..." Inuyasha bemoaned as he turned around, only to nearly be toppled over by a woman that reached up to his chin, wrapping her arms around her. Her hair was so long, she practically dragged it behind her. She was wearing a beautiful dark red velvet dress that reached down to her ankles and she was also wearing a black coat with brown fur trimming around the collar. "OOF!!" Inuyasha cried. "Hi, Mom...!" "Oh, Inuyasha, you're okay!" Izayoi said as she hugged her son. "I was so worried!" She then began to smother his face with kisses. "M-M-Mom! Mom, stop it!" Inuyasha cried. "I-I get it, I love you, too, but come on! Not in front of Sesshomaru! I'm not 5 anymore!!" Sesshomaru smirked while Rin giggled, though she tried to stifle her laughter by covering her mouth. "Thanks, again, Sesshomaru," said Izayoi. "Sorry I interrupted your date." "It's all right," Sesshomaru replied. 'It was worth seeing Inuyasha getting smothered in kisses.'

He then got back into the car, but not before Izayoi looked in through the window. "Bye, Izayoi!" Rin waved. "Bye, Rin," said Izayoi. "Sesshomaru, if you see Satomi, tell her I said hi, won't you?" "Yes, I'll give Mother your regards," Sesshomaru replied as he drove off.

"And as for you, young man," Izayoi said as she grabbed Inuyasha by the ear and dragged him up the stairs, causing him to cry out in pain, "you should know better than to worry your poor mother!" "Ow! M-Mom, ouch! Ow!!" Inuyasha cried. "Let go!! Dammit, I'm 21 years old!!"

"How could you leave so late at night?!" Izayoi asked. "And forget your phone, no less!" "I'm sorry- OW!!" Inuyasha cried. "Mom, that hurts!!" Soon, they were inside, revealing a lavish kitchen with black tile floors that looked so clean, you could eat off of them, and it even came with a bar area that had all sorts of liquor, including premium sake and imported wine. The living room had a 36" plasma screen TV- which, by the way, had a show about a talking sponge- and was set in front of a couch and two extra armchairs with leather upholstery. The sliding door revealed a large pool in the backyard, at least 10 feet wide and 7 feet deep, complete with a diving board. "Don't ever do something like that, Inuyasha Taisho," Izayoi scolded. "From now on, you take your phone with you so that someone can contact you! Do you hear me, young man?!" "Mom, I'm not-" Inuyasha started. "I said 'Do you hear me'?!" Izayoi asked. "...Yes, Mother..." Inuyasha muttered as he planted his rump right on the couch, causing a voice to yelp as he bounced up into the air before landing right back on the cushion. Inuyasha turned to his right to see a little boy of at least 4 or 5 years with red hair that was tied up in a ponytail with a turquoise ribbon. He had on a light blue shirt that had a swirling pattern of greenish-blue flames over the word "FOXFIRE" in dark green letters, as well as a pair of blue shorts. His most prominent features were a pair of golden yellow paws for feet and a bushy tail sticking out of his backside. "Oh, hey, Shippo," Inuyasha greeted as he gently ruffled the boy's hair. "Hi, Inuyasha," Shippo replied. "Welcome home." Shippo was Inuyasha's adopted younger brother. He had been living at Taisho Manor for about a year, now, ever since his father had been murdered by the infamous demon serial killers, the Thunder Brothers, Hiten and Manten. After their arrest, Shippo had nowhere to go and no other known family to turn to, so Izayoi decided to adopt him. At first, it seemed that Inuyasha and Shippo wouldn't get along, but eventually, they grew on each other. As Inuyasha settled onto the couch, he heard a loud bark coming from the hallway followed by the clacking of long claws against the floor, causing the half-demon to smile before he stood up from the couch and pat his chest. Before long, he was jumped upon by a red Akita Inu, who proceeded to smother his face with licks. Thankfully, Inuyasha didn't lose his balance. He just laughed as the dog kissed him while wagging his curly tail. "Hey, Taro!" Inuyasha exclaimed. "I'm happy to see you, too, boy!" Taro barked as he kept licking his master's face. "Dad's mad at you, by the way," Shippo said, causing Inuyasha to sigh as he put the dog down on the floor. "What else is new?" Inuyasha asked while he gave Taro a few strokes on the head. "At least he's still at the fucking office so I don't have to hear it from him." "Hello, son." Inuyasha's eyes went wide and his ears shot straight up before he turned around to see a rather muscular man wearing a police uniform, standing on the third bottom step of the stairs. Just like Inuyasha and Sesshomaru, his hair was as long and white as theirs and he had jagged blue stripes on his cheeks. Strapped to his back was a sword case that held a sword with a pearl in the hilt. "...Hey, what do you know?" Inuyasha asked with a sheepish smile before he glared at Shippo and clenched his fangs. "It's Dad!" Shippo shrugged, not knowing what to say while Taro whimpered and hid under the coffee table, his tail tucked between his legs. "Shippo, go upstairs, please," said Toga, prompting the young fox demon to hop off the couch and head upstairs. "And as for you, Inuyasha, we need to talk." "Toga, not now," Izayoi said as she approached him while handing her son a cup of instant noodles. "Inuyasha's had a rough night and needs some time to relax." "Thanks, Mom," said Inuyasha as he took the cup in his hand and began to eat the noodles before he picked up the remote and flicked the TV onto something else, but then Toga grabbed the remote and clicked the TV off. "Hey!" "Don't you 'hey' me," Toga said before he turned to his wife, "and as for you, Izayoi, don't coddle him because you make things worse." "But Toga-" Izayoi said. "He's a 21-year-old half-demon, living under our roof with no job!" Toga interjected. "You don't gotta rub it in," said Inuyasha as he flicked the TV back on, "and I'm working on the job part, okay?" "What happened to that application I gave you?" asked Izayoi. "You know, the one for WacDaniel's?" "I threw it out," said Inuyasha. "I don't wanna work in a greasy fast food joint. Besides, the burgers aren't that great." Toga grabbed the remote and flicked the TV off, again. "Okay, are you gonna keep doing that?!" Inuyasha questioned. "Yes," Toga began, "because you are going to shut up and listen. This has been going on for too long, Inuyasha. It's bad enough people discriminated against you since the day you came out of your mother, but what do you think people are going to say when they see you now?" "I don't care what people think," Inuyasha said as he turned the TV back on, but Toga promptly shut it back off, again, further irritating him. "You should care!" Toga argued. "Do you know what my friends down at the precinct call you? A lazy deadbeat half-demon who mooches off his parents!" "What are you gonna do?!" Inuyasha asked as he stood up and glared at his father. "You gonna kick me out, like you did to Sesshomaru?!" "That was different!" Toga yelled. "Sesshomaru left of his own free will!" "That's enough!" Izayoi shouted as she got in between them. "Let's not fight...please." "You know something, Dad?" Inuyasha asked. "I don't gotta sit here and take this. I only left last night and got my ass drunk because I wanted to get away from you!" "No," Toga countered. "The reason why you left and got drunk is that you can't get over your dead girlfriend!" "Toga!" Izayoi cried while Inuyasha tensed up. "You said you wouldn't bring that up again!" "...I don't gotta take this shit," Inuyasha cursed as he pushed his way past his father and headed up the stairs. "Inuyasha, I'm telling you this for your own good," Toga said as he glared after his son. "Look...I understand that you loved Kikyo...but you have to move on. It's been three years since her death!" "...Kikyo died because of me," Inuyasha said as he glared at his father. "And I would have saved her sooner if you hadn't been dragging your ass." He then headed up the stairs, and after about 5 seconds, they heard the sound of a slamming door. Toga sighed as he sat down in his chair while Izayoi put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, dearest?" she asked. "...I shouldn't have said that," Toga said. "I just got tired of seeing him act so depressed." "I hate seeing him like that, too," Izayoi said as she sat next to him. "...I just want him to do better, Izayoi," Toga said. "You may think I'm tough on him, but it's only because we can't keep treating him like a child." "...I know," Izayoi said, sadly, "but every time I see him looking so forlorn, I just can't help it. I want to show him he can still lean on his mother for support." "There's a fine line between support and coddling, Izayoi," said Toga. "And...I understand how he feels. He finally had someone who loved him and he loved in return...but then..." He then sighed while Izayoi rubbed his shoulders. "I just pray that one day, our son finds some form of happiness, again," Izayoi said. "That's all I could ever want." "...Me, too," Toga agreed. XXX Inuyasha lied in his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. The walls were plastered with Aerosmith posters and ACDC. He had a PlayStation 4 hooked up to a 24" Samsung TV and dirty clothes littered the floor. "...They want me to be happy, huh?" he mused as he glanced over at the vent. "Sometimes, I wonder..." Just then, he heard his phone vibrate, causing him to pick it up from his nightstand and swipe his finger on the screen. NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM MIROKU: "Hey, it's me. U didn't pick up last night. R U OK?"

Inuyasha sighed before he began to tap on the keypad. INUYASHA: "I went to the bar last night. Forgot my phone. Had 2 much 2 drink. Just got home a while ago. My jerkass brother dropped me off."

There was a brief pause before the phone vibrated again. MIROKU: "Where were u last night?"

INUYASHA: "Some girl's place."

MIROKU: "A girl, huh?" ;)

INUYASHA: "Don't get any ideas, perv. I don't even know her. Besides, I'm not gonna see her again."

MIROKU: "If U say so. So what R U doing l8r?"

INUYASHA: "I dunno. Maybe take Taro 4 a walk, later."

MIROKU: "Do U want me to come over?"

INUYASHA: "No thx. I'm good."

MIROKU: "Call me if U need me."

INUYASHA: "Whatever."

With that, he clicked off his phone and put it back on the nightstand and rested his hand on his stomach...but as he looked down at his finger, he saw that same red string, again. 'What the hell is this thing?'

#inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #izayoi #sesshomaru

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taizi · 7 years

Note

Kitanishi prompt: soulmate Au or red string of fate. Satoru hasn't received his mark yet and nervous he won't end up with Kitamoto. Atsushi is calm about the whole thing because who else would he end up with but Nishimura. However you want to interpret. I really just want fluff and possible cuddles at the end.

(this got a little out of hand)

“I am so gonna die alone,” Satoru says bleakly.

Natsume looks startled at the announcement. Atsushi idly turns a page in his book and doesn’t comment.

“That’s what this means, guys,” Satoru goes on, “that’s exactly what this means.”

The timer on his wrist has been broken for as long as he can remember. It sits there like a sadistic reminder, a faint, half-faded 00:00:00 that Satoru quite honestly hates.

“I’ve never,” Natsume ventures, and hesitates.

They’ve been neighbors for close to a year now, and for all that they don’t know much about the guy, he’s become a regular fixture in the cozy apartment Satoru and Atsushi share. Still, sometimes, he acts like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to contribute to lazy Sunday afternoon conversation, and all Satoru can do is wait patiently for him to gather his nerve.

“I mean,” Natsume tries again, “I’ve never heard of something like that. Is that even possible?”

His hand is circled around his own wrist and the numbers nestled there, and it’s obvious what he’s thinking: if even he could have a soulmate out there in the world somewhere, then surely someone like Satoru must have one, too.

If only.

Satoru wears long sleeves most of the time – stolen out of his roommate’s side of the closet, more often than not – and he deflects soulmate and soulmate-related conversation with all the prowess of someone with years of practice.

But he can’t avoid it entirely.

He stops for lunch at a little cafe near his office, and is just in time to watch as a harried businesswoman and the curly-haired cashier lock eyes and meet. The timers on their wrists, exposed where their arms are extended over the counter to exchange payment for the order, drop to zero.

It’s powerful, and wonderful, the way the first woman melts and the second lights up like a star, and the rest of the restaurant is smiling down at their plates or at their own company, but Satoru’s stomach twists sickly.

He leaves without ordering, and doesn’t find his appetite again for the rest of the day. He doesn’t say anything when he gets home but Atsushi can tell. Atsushi can always tell. And he frowns deeply, pushing back from his desk and abandoning his work to bully Satoru into a seat at the kitchen table.

Satoru suffers through a plate of microwaved leftovers, and a lecture about his admittedly shitty eating habits to go with it.

“You did this all through school,” Atsushi says sternly, “and I hated it then, too. You have to eat, moron. Melon bread and Kit-Kats and whatever else you have stashed in your office doesn’t cut it.”

There’s no easy way to explain why he couldn’t eat – that sometimes the anxiety gets too big, and sits in the pit of his chest like a stone. That sometimes he thinks too much about the zeros on his arm and what they mean, and wants to lock himself in the bedroom and hide from the world he’s afraid he’s all alone in.

So instead he shrugs, and mumbles through a mouthful of lukewarm noodles, "Sometimes I think the only reason we live together is because it’s easier for you to babysit me this way.”

“Someone has to,” Atsushi says without missing a beat, but there’s no heat in his eyes, or in the hand that brushes Satoru’s shoulder as Atsushi passes by on his way back to his office.

Rapid knocks on the door have Satoru hurrying to open it. Natsume spills inside, looking so visibly distraught that Satoru automatically looks over his shoulder into the hall for some sign of trouble.

“Natsume, what is it?” Atsushi asks with clear concern, and Natsume thrusts his arm at them by way of answer.

The numbers on his wrist are moving rapidly, dropping by the second, and Satoru and Atsushi both watch with wide eyes as it keeps going.

“It hasn’t moved in – in years,” Natsume admits in a soft, thready voice. “When I moved to this city, it actually went up. I never thought – a part of me was always resigned to – but now – “

He looks two shades short of terrified. Satoru feels for him, aches for him, and says, “Hey, listen. Whoever it is, they’re lucky as hell. You’re awesome, Natsume, they’re – man, they’re going to love you.”

Natsume looks at him with something open and vulnerable in his face, mouth soft and eyes bright. He’s opened up since coming here, but there’s still something fragile about him – this withdrawn, self-conscious guy without any family and nothing but a fat, grumpy cat for company in his quiet apartment across the hall –

Satoru hopes his other half is someone kind, someone patient. Someone who can fill all those empty spaces in Natsume’s life, in his home, in his heart.

The timer finally slows on the nineteen hour mark. The minutes slow after that, until only the seconds are left steadily ticking by. Natsume is pale and shaken as he runs a hand through his hair.

Atsushi says, “Stay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” Natsume whispers.

The next day, as Satoru and Atsushi are leaving their apartment – bickering amiably about the grocery list and the fastest way to get to the supermarket – they’re greeted by an unfamiliar face.

He’s tall, with a messy head of dark hair and kind eyes. He stands as though he’s aware of how much space he takes up and wishes it could be less.

“Hello,” he says, a little too formal, when he notices the two of them noticing him. “Um, we haven’t met. I just moved in – two doors down from you, actually. I’m Tanuma.”

“Nice to meet you,” Atsushi says politely, “I’m Kitamoto and this is Nishimura. Are you new to the city?”

“Yeah, it was – a spur of the moment decision,” Tanuma says. “I’m a, um – photographer,” and Satoru kind of hates the self-conscious way his eyes dip at the admission, as though it’s something he can’t be proud of, “mostly freelance. But the um, the paper here – was hiring. So I applied, and sent in a portfolio, and – here I am.”

He’s awkward, but in an endearing way, like he isn’t used to striking up conversation with strangers but he’s doing his best to make a good impression despite himself. Satoru has known him for all of three minutes and has already decided he’s going to be a great neighbor.

“Well, we’re happy to have you,” Satoru tells him. “You should come by sometime, show us some of your work!”

The invitation seems to take him by surprise, but a moment later his face softens with a smile. “Yeah?”

They make plans to have him over for dinner, and Tanuma looks ten pounds lighter and ten times less anxious than he did when they found him in the first place.

“You’re too friendly,” Atsushi says dryly, as they wait for the elevator. “One of these days you’re gonna invite a creep right into our house for tea or something, and honestly I won’t even be shocked.”

“Tanuma isn’t a creep!”

“I didn’t say he was!”

But it’s not really that Satoru is too friendly, or even an especially nice person. It’s just that his wrist is a line of solid zeros, and it’s been that way forever, and he can’t stand how lonely he feels sometimes.

He doesn’t want anyone else to be lonely, either.

Tanuma is right on time, down to the minute. And since Satoru is fighting with the temperamental rice cooker while Atsushi is busy at the stove when the polite knocks sound at the front door, he calls, “Natsume, will you get that? It’s that Tanuma guy we invited over.”

Natsume’s face is a sickly white as he climbs gracelessly to his feet. His fat cat is tucked into the crook of his arm, like a security blanket, and Satoru pauses long enough to frown at him, worry after him, because that’s an extreme reaction to just getting the door for someone?

But then he sees the flickering activity on Natsume’s wrist, the rapid shifting of numbers that Satoru is too far away to make out, and he grabs Atsushi by the strings of his apron and yanks.

“Holy shit, Satoru, this is hot oil – “

He cuts himself off when he realizes what’s happening.

Natsume stands back to let Tanuma step inside, and Satoru can’t see his face – but the hand he lifts towards Tanuma is trembling, and Tanuma’s expression is dazed and wondering and painful to look at –

Natsume says “It’s you,” in a small voice, and Tanuma replies, “I’ve waited to meet you for so long,” and Satoru turns away to give them some privacy, busying himself with the rice again.

His eyes are burning, but he can blame that on the smoke.

Atsushi has worn a thick leather bracelet over his timer for as long as Satoru has known him. It’s not weird – some people are secretive about it, or painfully shy. Satoru has even heard of some people going so far as to tattoo over the timer – it fades, once a person accepts their other half, but there’s a growing community of people who reject the soulmate concept entirely, and ignore the numbers in favor of falling in love freely.

He thinks that’s admirable and a little bit terrifying in equal measures.

Satoru wonders, sometimes, if Atsushi belongs to the secretive group or the skeptical one. He doesn’t ask – Atsushi will sometimes rub fingers over the bracelet, and look weary and sad, and even Satoru is tactful enough to know there are some things he should just leave alone – but he still wonders.

If he could belong to anybody, he would belong to Atsushi.

And he doesn’t know what he’ll do, the day Atsushi’s soulmate strolls into their lives and takes Atsushi away from him.

One day, about a month after his fateful first night in the apartment building the four of them share, Tanuma breaches the same subject Satoru has always avoided:

“Do you mind my asking, Kitamoto? What does your timer say?” he asks on a comfortable, rainy Tuesday evening, while Natsume messes with his expensive-looking camera and Natsume’s fat calico sleeps in his lap.

“Oh,” Atsushi says, unbothered. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Nothing. It faded a long time ago.”

Satoru chokes on his bubble tea so spectacularly that Natsume actually puts the camera down to lean over and thump him on the back. He and Tanuma are both staring at him but Atsushi is doing that casual oh-did-you-have-a-big-reaction-sorry-I-didn’t-even-notice thing. Satoru isn’t about to let it slide this time.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Atsushi gives him an unimpressed look. There’s some fleeting feeling in his eyes that Satoru just misses, something heated or hurt. “It’s been gone for years. It’s not a secret.”

“You – you never said – “

“You never asked.”

Tanuma and Natsume are looking between them with wide eyes. Satoru feels his hands clench into fists, so tight his fingers ache and his nails bite into his palms.

“Can I talk to you outside?” he grits out.

“Oh,” Natsume says, “no, we can – Kaname, let’s – “

But Atsushi is already setting his phone aside and rising to his feet, gesturing expansively for Satoru to lead the way. Satoru does his best not to storm out of his own apartment like a pissy teenager, but he isn’t sure if he’s the least bit successful.

He’s trembling, and waits for Atsushi to close the front door behind him before he bursts out with, “Were you – are you – do you not trust me? Why wouldn’t you tell me? I tell you everything, I thought – “

“Satchan,” he says tiredly, “it’s not like that.”

“So you know?” Satoru couldn’t explain the ache in his chest if he tried. “Your other half? You know who they are?”

“I’d know even without the stupid numbers on my wrist.”

Satoru stares at him, and something in Atsushi’s expression crumbles. He pushes a hand through his hair and looks twice his age, and exhausted, and sad.

“Sometimes – it doesn’t work out, I guess. Sometimes you’re not on the same page. It’s not a perfect system. Not everyone gets a happy ending.”

“Did they – “ Satoru can barely find the words. His heart is a solid lump in his throat. “Did they not want you?”

The question lands like a blow, and that’s not what Satoru meant, he didn’t mean to hurt him, and he’s already opening his mouth to apologize when Atsushi shakes his head.

A little bit bitter and a little bit broken when he says, “No, he – didn’t feel the same way. But it’s okay,” he adds a moment later. “It doesn’t have to be perfect to be good.”

It sounds like an old, old hurt. A wound he’s used to navigating around, and can almost pretend isn’t there. And Satoru has known him all his life, has been his roommate since the day they graduated high school together almost ten years ago, and…

he never knew.

Atsushi is asleep at the kitchen table, and Satoru is washing dinner dishes. The chore is taking longer than usual, because he keeps looking over his shoulder at his friend and ends up scrubbing the same plate for ten minutes as he loses himself in thought.

It’s hard to be objective, given how shamelessly biased he is where Atsushi is concerned, but as far as he’s concerned a person would have to be crazy not to want a guy like him.

He would have thought Atsushi’s other half would be a sensible, well-put together sort. And instead they’re – well, probably the worst person in the world, if he’s being honest.

Who the hell could know Atsushi and not want him?

Moving on impulse, Satoru abandons the rest of the dishes and strips off his rubber gloves. He sits in the chair across the table from Atsushi and lifts his left hand off the table gingerly enough not to wake him.

He finds the clasp on that leather bracelet and undoes it, sliding the weathered band away. The skin underneath is smooth and unblemished, an empty place where hopeful numbers should sit.

Atsushi doesn’t have anyone waiting for him, either.

And maybe there’s been a secret dream lurking in the farthest corner of Satoru’s heart ever since he was a lonely teenager.

Maybe now he can afford to want it, after all.

Atsushi has been staring at the stolen leather bracelet on Satoru’s wrist for the better part of the morning, while doing his best to pretend like he absolutely hasn’t been staring at it for the better part of the morning.

“Satchan,” he’ll start to say, and then think better of it and bury himself in the morning paper. They’ve become subscribers, now that their friend’s impressive photography regularly decorates the front page.

Satoru smiles at his hands. When he rubs his wrist now, it’s not a bitter gesture or a longing one as much as it’s affectionate, anticipatory, excited.

“Are you messing with me?”

Satoru frowns. “Not that I know of?”

Atsushi looks more flustered than Satoru has seen him in years. There’s an almost manic gleam in his eyes, and his hair stands on end from how many times he’s rubbed a careless hand through it.

“You’re – “ He hesitates, and lowers his voice. “What do you want from me?”

“Well, I wanted to hold your hand, but I didn’t know it was going to put you through an existential crisis.”

“Don’t,” Atsushi says sharply, and Satoru’s humor fades. “You don’t – get to joke about it. You can’t just go back and forth, that’s not fair. I don’t know what you want.”

Satoru has the sinking feeling he got something terribly, terribly wrong. “I thought – maybe, since you didn’t have a soulmate either, we could – ”

“Wait.” Atsushi says slowly, holding up both hands to stop him mid-word. Then, at length, “What?”

“We’re both,” Satoru says lamely, “you know.”

“No,” is the frank reply, “that’s – have you really? Have you really thought that – “ Atsushi surges across the room, and snatches Satoru by the shoulders, and says, “What did you think your zero counter meant?”

“That – that I didn’t have anybody?” Satoru blinks past the threatening sting of tears, because Atsushi has never been intentionally cruel, and he probably has a reason for throwing this lifelong hurt back in Satoru’s face. “It’s been on zero for as long as I can remember. I never knew who it was supposed to be. It never even fully faded.”

Atsushi is staring at him as though he’s never seen him from this close before. His fingers bite into Satoru’s arm hard enough to hurt. He doesn’t seem willing to let go.

“We met when we were five years old,” he says, very carefully, “on the first day of kindergarten. My timer was on zero when I came home. I remember, because mom and dad made a big deal about it. They were so excited I could have met my other half so early.”

Satoru blinks at him. He remembers that day – he spent hours chasing Atsushi around the playground, sharing snacks and making up games, and didn’t want to go home when Kiyoshi walked over from the elementary school to pick him up at the end of the afternoon.

Is that when it happened?

“I never,” he whispers, and has to stop and scrape the words together before he can try again. “I didn’t notice. I didn’t even know what the numbers meant until – it must have been third grade? Mom never – she didn’t think it was important – “

Atsushi’s eyes have gone ridiculously soft. He lets go of Satoru’s shoulders to touch the sides of his face instead, as carefully as if he was something impossibly precious.

“I,” Satoru tries, but his voice wobbles and breaks apart. “I– “

“I thought you knew,” Atsushi says quietly. “I thought you knew and it wasn’t what you wanted. I thought that’s why you’ve been so miserable, all these years.”

He unclasps the bracelet and Satoru watches from far away, like it’s something happening to someone else. The zeros on his arm aren’t the bright blue of everyone else’s, they’re half color, faded and unsubstantial. He’s never known why, always thought it was broken, but –

“You never knew it was me,” Atsushi says, “you were never sure, so of course they never went away. I should have – I should have said something, I should have – I’m such an idiot. Satchan, I’m so sorry.”

“I made you think I didn’t want you,” Satoru all but sobs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, “I made you think – you’re my favorite person in the whole world, and I hurt you so much – “

“No you didn’t. I never blamed you for feeling differently, I would never blame you for that. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it was still good.”

“But I – “ Satoru wishes he was brave enough to look at him, but instead he hides behind his hands like a coward. “I didn’t feel differently. You were just – something I couldn’t have – because I didn’t know you were mine.”

For a long moment, his words are greeted by a silence that threatens to deafen him. Then Atsushi is pulling Satoru’s hands away from his face and holding his wrists captive and leaning in to kiss his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.

As if he’s saying now you know.

“You two are a mess,” Natsume tells them over breakfast two days later, in a perfect deadpan that makes Atsushi snort into his coffee.

Compared to the pretty picture Natsume and Tanuma make – the perfect way they came together the moment they met, the way they move as though they’ve never spent a day apart – yeah, Satoru thinks it’s safe to say he and Atsushi are something of a certified disaster.

He regrets the misunderstanding that caused so much hurt where hurt could have been avoided, and he regrets the sad shadows that lived for so long in Atsushi’s eyes.

But at the same time, Satoru’s been luckier than most – even if five, ten, and fifteen years ago he would never have believed such a thing.

He smiles down at his hands, and rubs the bare skin on his left wrist. Seconds later Atsushi is reaching for him – threading their fingers together, lifting Satoru’s hand, and pressing a kiss to the same spot where all his zeros used to be.

“You’re a good mess, though,” Tanuma amends with no small amount of fondness, and Satoru beams at him.

“The best,” he clarifies boldly, loved and full of love in return.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #kitanishi #tanunatsu #kitamoto atsushi #nishimura satoru #soulmate au #i cant believe how sappy this is #or maybe i can #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#my writing #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic

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ohnoitsgay · 6 years

Text

Safety: Shelter AU

"You called?" Evan asked his Mother as he opened the door the the main office area. The beige walls were hung with photos of kids that have been through the place, some still here, with a few photos of Evan. He didn't like his photo being taking, despised it actually, but allowed his mom to sometimes, just for her.

"Yes, we have someone new today, he came by this morning. You know what that means?" She said with a comforting smile. Heidi knew Evan didn't like being the one to be with the new kids, but he was the only one who knew everything and she often couldn't help the newbies because of other things.

"Yeah," Evan mumbled, looking down slightly. He followed his mother out near the entrance to see a boy with long brown hair staring up at them.

"Okay Connor, this is Evan, my son that I told you about. He will be the one showing you around today, and if you have any questions, he's the one to turn to. I have to get back to some work, but I'll see both of you later." She turned to Evan, who was standing beside her, and said, "Bye, Sweetie," Kissing him quickly on the head before she hurried off.

"Um, Hi... I'm Evan, but I g-guess you know that. I.. um, will be showing you around, I guess," Evan stumbled out, rubbing the back of his neck slightly. Connor got up in silence, standing next to Evan, so Evan took that as his queue to start the tour.

"Okay, well, this is the main entrance. Obviously... we won't spend much time here... ever. Yeah, let's continue." He said, walking down the corridor. "That door there leads to my mom's, Heidi's, office. There's also another entrance near the cafeteria. through here in the main room, some people call it Lobby or hang out... 'cause that's what they do... There is the T.V., board games, card games, a hand full of video games, all the cool stuff. A nice... social area... Any questions so far?"

Connor stayed silent, so Evan continued on the way, "There are washrooms over there, and two halls, one to the dorms, girls on left boys on right, and the other heads to the cafeteria. Food is served there... though you probably knew that... but you don't have to stay there to eat, and there is a door that connects to the dorm hall though there as well." Evan lead Connor into the cafeteria. A kid no older than 15 was sitting in a spot, and they waved to Evan who waved back. "There's no seating plan, and you can just grab the food whenever. But you're not allowed behind the counter without permission... you'd just have to ask though, we aren't that worried..."

He continued on through the next set of doors, "Here it splits, one way to the quiet room, for any reading or studies and all... this other leads to the back entrance to get to the backyard but also continues on the laundry. As this place is free for teens to come, there are jobs assigned each week, as well as mandatory fundraisers to keep this place going." Evan turned to Connor to explain.

"We can -hold up to 20 people at a time, not counting me or m-my mother, but normally we have no more than ten. Kids that are here during the school year are enrolled at the school two blocks down from our building. My mother has Dr. Gibor in for group therapy once a week as well... most kids are here year-round until they either get a place of there own, sometimes some of the younger ones are adopted, since the ages here range from 12-19. A few come back to visit if the place isn't filled up every once in a while... wh-when they are part of the older age group, we help them get a job to be able to move on their own at 19-20ish..."

"We have 7 kids now with you... two recently moved into an apartment together. Yeah..." He stopped.

"Any -questions?" He asked, looking up at Connor for the first time, pretending to not be trying to figure him out.

"It's nice of you to make this place for the fucked up kids like me. Why did you guys?" Connor asked, speaking for the first time since Evan had seen him.

"W-well... when I was younger... I was holding a secret, afraid of being re-rejected or kicked out by my mom, which was silly... She started thinking about how other kids may actually get kicked out, and wanted to make a place f-for them." Evan ended, smiling slightly to the taller boy in front of him.

Connor nodded, going back to his silence once again. "I can show you your bedroom before dinner," Evan said, leading Connor back to his mother's office to grab both the forum Connor filled out and his bag that was left in the office. Evan went over it quickly, only looking at the needed information. He took Connor to the boys dorm, opening it the be greeted by a boy.

"Hey Evan!" The boy said cheerfully, a wide smile plastered across his face as he looked up towards Connor. "Hi! I'm Diallo, nice to meet you," He said, much calmer.

"Connor," Connor mumbled, looking down at the ground.

"Head off to dinner, I'll meet you there in a moment," Evan said, and Diallo hurried off down the hall, the sounds of his steps echoing. Evan turned back to Connor. "There are four bedrooms, each with movable beds, same as the girls dorms. Normally, there are t-two in each room unless needed. There's one for the 12-13 year olds," Evan pointed to a wildly decorated door on the left, the main background colour being purple, "The red one is for 14-15-year-olds," He said, pointing to the one beside the first door. "The blue one across from it is for 16/17 year-r olds, and the yellow one is for 18/19 year olds." Evan explained. "The white door is the bathroom, and this area is to hang out," He gestured to the two couches and table in the middle.

Evan brought Connor over to the blue door," This is your room, you share it with me. The bed there will be yours, as well as the drawers beside your bed. Rules are you don't go into other rooms and you don't touch other's things without asking, okay?"

Connor stayed silent, dropping his bag onto the bed he was given. "Let's get to dinner," Evan said, leading Connor back to the main hall. Six other kids, including Diallo, were already eating, two at one table and four at the other. "How about you m-meet the others?" Evan asked, leading Connor to Diallo's table with another person.

"Connor, this is Diallo, he's 12, and this is Jana, she's 14," Evan said, the two were the two that Connor had at least seen. "They are the youngest here," Evan added. Diallo's curly black hair was cut on the shorter side, though it was definitely longer then what was seen. Jana had a few freckles, strawberry blonde hair falling past her shoulders. Evan turned, waving goodbye before bring Connor to the next table.

"Here is Tove, they are 16, Rumi is 15, that's Mavis, and she's 18, and Logan, she is 16," Evan introduced them one by one. Tove had blonde hair, and they were quite thin, very little food on their plate. Rumi had dark green eyes, like forests. He wore a button up shirt, and looked like he knew something hilarious that no one else did. Mavis was chill, dyed dark blue hair and a pastel pink sweater on. Logan sported a plain blue tee, her grey eyes piecing Connor.

Heidi walked into the room, coming up to the boys. "Hey, did you guys finish the main tour?" Heidi asked, putting her hand on Tove's shoulder, as they smiled up at Heidi.

"Y-yes," Evan said, looking up from the group to see his mom.

"That's good. Evan, you can eat now, I need to talk to Connor for a moment over his forums," She gestured for Connor to follow her, which he did. That confused Evan, since normally all the paperwork is done and over quickly, no 'calling back' stuff. But Evan pushed that aside, walking over to where his mom had put out the food, some chicken noodle soup, which was amazing. He didn't know the recipe, but always loved the meal when it was made. He took his bowl and sat down next to Diallo and Jana, enjoying another day at the home.

#dear evan hansen #deh #shelter AU #my work #my writing #connor murphy #ocs #evan hansen #heidi hansen #my ocs #tree bros

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marvelsatthineself · 6 years

Text

Talented in More Ways than One

Chapter Two

Warnings: None

Created: February 4th, 2018 ; Edited: February 20th, 2018

“Now, remember that for tomorrow we are going to be in the greenhouse. The time you will be spending in the greenhouse should be solely for your project, and using it for any other means will cost you this assignment. It is for half of your grade this semester mainly because of how much time we are going to spend on it and the amount of data you are going to collect on the plants you are researching. You all will have access to the greenhouse outside of class time, so I should not be getting any complaints about not having enough time for this assignment. Being passed around by my TA is the outline for the entire project and how I want it to be set up.”

Lisianthus watches as her students read over the paper with wide eyes and nervous faces. She smiles as she sees some of them put their heads down and groan at the project, and it makes her think back to when she had to do a similar assignment back when she was studying.

“I know, I know, this is a lot. Think about it like this though, I have just given you a paper of how I want it all to be set up, how it should be organized. I have even give you some ideas on how to get started for the project, how long I want the paragraphs, and the format of the data tables. I am basically giving you the project without the data. You guys also have my email, so any questions and doubts that you have during this process, use it. You also know my office hours.”

Lisi ends her statement with a small smile, and her ears are met with small exclamations of joy and realization. She was giving her students a lot of crutches, but this was just the start of it all. She was definitely going to amp it up as the semester goes on.

“Now, for the rest of class, I am going to give you guys time to figure out what you want to research. I’m not dismissing you, but this is the time for you guys to get your topics in to me and locked in. I’m not having anyone repeat. If you guys have any questions, you can come up to the front.”

At that, her students got to working, and she had at least fifteen come up to her with questions about the project. As she was answering them, she thought back to her first year teaching and how flustered she was at first, but now in her third year, she doesn’t even bat an eyelash in front of groups of twenty or more. Lisi felt proud of herself for coming so far, and she even had someone waiting at home for her. Not her soulmate, but someone in the form of a furry creature named Kāpena.

Kāpena is a red Doberman Pinscher she had adopted from the shelter during her second year at Cornell. It took some time for the pooch to get used to his new home, but after a few months, the Doberman finally got comfortable. In their time together, Lisi has fallen in love with him just as much as he has fallen in love with her. Some of her students even had the pleasure of meeting him when she went on her morning jogs. Lisi was just glad that the hole in her soul had closed a little bit ever since she got Kāpena. Once Lisi finished answering her students, she sees that her class is about to end in five minutes and decides to dismiss them early.

“Okay, you guys, I’m going to dismiss you guys a bit earlier today. Remember, you have my email, and if you still haven’t given me your main idea, I need it by the end of today. Thank you, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

At that, her class files out quickly, the students chatting it up as they leave for the doors, and Lisi’s TA starts looking around the lecture hall to see if anybody left anything behind. Lisi smiles at the action. Her aide was also someone that Lisi had been grateful for ever since she started her job at Cornell, and it was quite surreal that despite the girl’s name literally meaning sorrow, she was always upbeat and pleasant to have around.

Brónach Éabha was born in Perrystown, Ireland, and Brónach had always been interested in anything that was green. Her love for nature was also evident in her fashion sense, always wearing something with flowers or plants, and her curly red hair would make the green ribbon she used for her various hairstyles really pop. Other notable features to Brónach were the freckles that peppered her pale skin and her vivid green eyes. Like Lisi, she hasn’t found her soulmate but still enjoyed her talents nonetheless. She knew how to dance in multiple styles: ballroom, hip hop, breakdancing, and more, and she also knew how to play various instruments like the guitar and piano.

Lisi wasn’t sure what to make of the idea of having someone as her assistant when she was first starting out, but she was happy in the end that she got Brónach. Brónach always had good ideas to help out the students and would make it routine to get Lisi her morning coffee and cake pops from Starbucks. There were also times when the two would go out together and have fun. Some might be embarrassed to admit that their assistant at work was their first friend, but Lisi was just glad to have anyone.

“Did you find anything?” Lisi calls out to her TA while packing up her belongings to go to her office. The next class doesn’t start until after lunchtime, so she planned to go out and buy something to bring back.

“No, I didn’t find anything. Are you going out to lunch? Would you like some company?” Brónach asks as she walks down the steps that lead to the bottom of the lecture hall.

“I was just going to buy some food to go and bring it back here so I can work while I eat, but I wouldn’t mind if you came with me. It must be nice that your classes for tomorrow got cancelled.” Lisi says with a smile, waiting by the exit for her assistant.

The two walk out, locking the classroom and heading towards the Coal Yard Cafe that was just a few minutes away from the university. It was a quaint little cafe that most of the students go to before their classes start or during lunch, and the food was pretty good. Once inside, Lisi and Brónach order their food to go - a Grilled Tuna Melt with fruit on the side for Lisi, an Asian Noodle Salad bowl with fries for Brónach, and two iced coffees. Waiting for their orders, they sat down at an available table and chatted. As Lisi was telling her assistant a story, her phones goes off.

“Hello?” Lisi speaks into the phone and directs an apologetic smile to Brónach who waves her hand at her dismissively as if saying to not worry about it.

“Ms. Caro, it’s me, the Dean. We have a problem with one of our classrooms in the Art building. It’s been blacked out, and a class is going to be in session in 30 minutes. I need you to fix it.”

Lisi’s face falls, and she sighs, murmuring an affirmative response into the phone before hanging up. Brónach frowns at her superior’s drop in mood, and she knew what this was about. During Lisi’s first year of teaching, she had tried to keep her powers underwrap, especially her electric manipulation and super strength. However, her department building had run out of power, so the entire facility was out. The university was having financial issues at the time, so they couldn’t hire an electrician to fix it. Lisi reluctantly volunteered to fix it with her powers, and surprisingly, it worked. Ever since, if any classrooms or buildings needed electrical power, the Dean would call her to fix it up. She told him that she wanted to keep her power a secret, and he agreed just as long as she was saving them money.

“I never like using my talent like this, it just makes me feel bad.” The professor says this with a groan, and her TA gives her a sympathetic look.

When their names were called by the cashier for their order pickup, they grab their food and head immediately towards the art building. It didn’t take long to find the classroom as in front of it, there was a group of bored looking students with an anxious professor in front of the door. Lisi quickly guides her way to the teacher and explains how she was going to fix the lights. The teacher let her in quickly, and she looks around the room, spotting the panel and heading over to it briskly. Once the panel was open, she places her hands on the circuit and closes her eyes. Feeling the electricity flowing through her, she flexes her fingers against the wires, sparks of blue displaying themselves as they go into the electric panel.

As she input her energy into the classroom, her TA stood by the door and made sure that no one else saw what she was seeing. Brónach observes the sparks that flowed not only through her mentor’s but from her body as well. From where Brónach stood, it looked as if lightning was shooting out of Lisi’s body, and it truly mesmerized her.

When Brónach first met Lisi, she had thought that the woman had already found her soulmate, but upon learning that Lisi was single, she was surprised but soon realized why she should have known that about her from the start. Lisi had this aura about her that while she was very independent and confident in herself, there was a loneliness that accompanied her being. There were times when Brónach would try and brainstorm about who Lisi’s soulmate could be just from the talents that she saw from her. She knew that Lisi had super strength thanks to that one time when Lisi and her went to the gym early one morning, and when they went to the punching bags...let’s just say that they were both glad they were the only ones present in the gym at the time because there would be no way to explain how a 5’4” woman slammed a large punching bag into the wall with just one hit.

Brónach knew that Lisi’s soulmate was definitely not human, or else her talents were from Lisi herself. However, Lisi had told her that her parents had nothing like what she has, and her siblings were normal too. While the assistant wanted her friend to find the one, she also didn’t want Lisi to be in any sort of danger if her soulmate did happen to be a superhuman.

Lisi retracts her hand from the panel and closes it as the lights finally come on, and she sighs in relief. Both of them exit the room, and the art teacher thanks Lisi with much reverence. The students outside the doors however groan since they just got used to being out and not having to learn. Regardless, Lisi and Brónach go back to their office together and eat lunch, continuing their day as normal, or well, as normal as it can get.

❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊

After all her classes were done, Lisi sat in her office, doing work as well as waiting for any student of hers to come by with questions. Brónach had left for the day, saying that she had plans with some of her friends. Lisi checks the time on her watch and starts packing up since it was fifteen till seven. As she was finishing up with the last of her papers, a knock comes from the outside of her door.

“Always the last minute stragglers...come in!” The professors mutters the first part bitterly before yelling out for the guest to enter.

Instead of a student however, she was met with the sight of a middle aged woman with intense blue eyes, brown hair in updo with bangs swept to the left side of her face, and she adorned a black and blue short-sleeved blouse, a grey pencil skirt, and black heels. Lisi stands straight and squares her shoulders to the woman, feeling a bit intimidated but deciding to push that aside to be polite. She smiles at the new face, wanting to be seem friendly.

“I was expecting one of my students, I’m sorry. I’m Lisianthus Caro. What can I help you with?” She sticks her hand out for a handshake and is grateful that it was taken with a firm grip.

“Good evening ma’am. My name is Maria Hill. I have a few questions for you.” Maria says with a professional smile, giving off an “all-business, no play” vibe.

“Oh, alright, well, how about you take a seat, and I’ll get you a glass of water.” Lisi gestures to the red armchairs in front of her desk, and Maria walks towards them after giving the professor a nod.

Lisi heads over to her small, black secretary desk, and she pulls the top panel of it down, exposing a row of glass cups in the two middle shelves and a mini fridge on each side. She takes out a water bottle from the right fridge and pours some into one of the cups. Taking it over to Maria and handing it over, Lisi sits down in the other red chair and nods as Maria thanks her for the drink.

“Ms. Caro.” Maria starts, but Lisi cuts her off before she could continue.

“Call me Lisi, please.” Lisi states with a sort of pleading tone; she never liked being called Ms. Caro since it made her feel so old.

“Well, Lisi, my team and I have been observing you for a while, and may I say, your abilities are quite interesting.” Maria starts again and ends her statement with a inquisitive tone and a slightly raised eyebrow.

Lisi freezes a bit. What did she mean by “abilities”? What did she mean by her team and her? How long have they been watching her? She smiles and regains her composure, trying to think of something else.

“Do you mean how quickly I got used to teaching people that are around my age? I’ll tell you it wasn’t easy, especially when-”

“I think you know what I’m talking about, Lisi.” Maria interrupts her with a serious tone, not wanting to beat around the bush on the subject.

Lisi stares at the woman for a few more seconds before slumping in her chair and sliding a hand across her face. All she wanted to do was go home, eat dinner, and spend time with her precious dog. She has kept her abilities a secret for years, but now other people somehow know about it. For what reason would they even want to know?

“Look, I…I don’t want it coming out please. It’s bad enough that my personal assistant knows about them and that the Dean here uses my electricity to fix any black out or other electrical issues around the campus. If it comes out, I don’t know what will happen, but I still want it to be a secret, please.” Lisi pleads to Maria, her petite hands clasping together as if praying, and Maria looks at Lisi, as if intrigued.

“Ma’am. I’m not going to disclose this information to the public. That is not why I am here today.” Maria states as if there was no other way she should be there, and Lisi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Then why are you here if not for that? Don’t tell me you came out all this way for me to fix an electrical issue? The Dean referred you to me, didn’t he? Of course, he’s tried making me help him on the weekends too when he’s too lazy to call someone in for it!” Lisi continues with her rambling, frustrated with the idea that her employer is giving her secret out to people who had no business of knowing.

Maria just watches the young woman, not sure how to end her speech of anger at her superior. Coming to the university, Maria expected the woman they were supposed to be watching to be more calculated and professional, but what she didn’t expect was for the target to be so real and endearing. Maria and her team of agents had watched Lisianthus for a bit more than a month, and despite how Lisi’s life was very normal, it was a change of pace for the SHIELD agents. There was no danger in her life, and her routine was practically the same everyday. Even though there was no action, Maria could agree that watching Lisi live was so mundane that it was sort of exciting. It made everything relaxing for her.

The only times where the agents had some real action were when the Hawaiian-Italian used her powers. It wasn’t often that her abilities came about, but when they did, it was a bit scary. The first time Maria and them saw Lisi use her abilities was a few days into their mission of watching her when the Dean had her fix an outage in the Science building, and the incident made them a bit more cautious of their client. The purpose of the mission was to check out a spike of energy in the area that one of SHIELD’s machines had picked up. The energy itself wasn’t very large, but it was significant enough to be noticed. Over the course of the month, Lisi had shown them that she could kick a piece of concrete beam in a parking garage when she was angry after a day of work, that she could heal a deep cut from dicing vegetables within 10 minutes, and much more. The records they had of her didn’t mention anything about powers, and her family had no known abilities either.

Maria reported all of her findings back to Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD, and he told her to keep observing her for now. It was only this morning that he had told her to approach Lisianthus and try to get her to come to the compound. Maria let Lisi continue on for a bit more before clearing her throat, prompting the woman to look back at her guest with a concerned look that startled the agent.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, would you like some more water?” Maria shakes her head to say no, but Lisi picks up the glass anyways to refill it for her.

“Lisi, I would like for you to come with me.” Maria’s statement makes Lisi pause on her way to the water station.

“What for?” Lisi questions as she turns her head to look at the older woman.

“My boss would like to meet you and ask you some questions.” Maria says, and she says it in a way that Lisi knows that there is no argument as to whether or not she is going to go.

Lisianthus and Maria engage in a staring contest, neither wanting to back down, but Lisi knew that there would be no way to get out of this situation. Maria looked as if she could kill her in more than 30 ways with just a spoon. Lisi sighs and directs her gaze to the floor.

“Fine, I’ll come with, but on one condition.” The professor looks back to Maria with a fire in her eyes, and the agent looks a bit confused before replying.

“What condition would that be?” Maria was unsure, but she knew that despite Lisi having no leverage in this conversation, she somehow knew that she would rather not make the younger woman angry.

“Let me bring my dog.” Lisi states with a conviction, and Maria knew then and there that this woman was more than meets the eye.

Chapter Three

#avengers x oc fic #multipart fic #avengers polyfic #soulmate au #talented in more ways than one fic #talented in more ways than one chapter two

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thelarryficrecplace · 7 years

Text

Monday Fic Rec

Some new fics to get you through this week:

Little White Lies by xxSterre:

Summary: “I lied when I got my job.

I told them I had a kid so I could leave early 'to pick him up from day care', to take him to doctors appointments and occasionally miss a day 'when he's sick'. Long story short – I'm in too deep. I didn't think this through.

Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy aged 4 to 6 with curly hair who plays soccer, essentially he has to look like the stock photo in the frame on my desk. Also must be artistic as the macaroni noodle drawings I made seem a little advanced for someone his age. He also needs to respond to 'my Little Picasso' as that's what my spouse and I call him. Also I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of my spouse when dropping him off. His name is James, he's named after his grandpa and he's a defense attorney who often brings his work home.

You know what, just message me for the details, serious inquiries only. H."

Or, the AU based off of that one Craigslist post - how a little white lie takes on an enormous snowball effect, that might accidentally include a Tomlinson too.

"said I'll love you till the day that I die." by phanxlarryFandoms:

Summary: The tiny boy can’t eat or drink or remember almost anything anymore, spending every hour possible clutching Harry likes he’s scared of what will happen when he lets go.

Harry spends every second with his eyes glued to the pretty boy, making note of every detail possible and biting back whimpers when he notices how sickly the boy’s eyes are.

He just looks so ill, so worn, so in need of rest despite the fact that he sleeps a good twenty-hours per day. The worst part of it all is that Louis is still beautiful to Harry, so aesthetically enticing and physically magnetic that Harry will never be able to stop staring.

But, neither of them truly want Harry to remember Louis like this.

“Tomorrow…” Louis whispers, expression blank and head resting on Harry’s chest, ear pressed against his heart to listen to the rhythmic, calming beat. “You...twenty four, right?”

Harry smiled softly, brushing Louis’ mess of wavy hair out of his eyes, bringing with it the strands sticking to his cheeks.

Penny For Your Thoughts by rainbowsandlove (Larry_trueluv):

Summary: And realisation dawned on both of them. Every time he had talked, Louis hadn’t really seen his lips move. At all. He whipped his head towards Liam then. He could hear his voice in his head but Liam’s lips weren’t moving. Which meant...

“Holy shit I can read minds!” he exclaimed, right into Liam’s ear, making him wince and shuffle back.

Or Louis wishes he could read minds, and to everyone’s surprise he gets it granted.

One To Make Your Heart Remember Me by larrysrainbow:

Summary: Louis was a famous child star who is trying to make his way back the pop chart ladder and Harry is helping him.

If we meet sometime in the after years, my darling, I trust I will find your love still mine. by lucidlou:

Summary: 1970s AU.The boy at the dinner table isn’t as much of a stranger as Louis thought, and somewhere between the diners, concerts, and the way the moonlight falls just right, the summer is enough time for realizing.

(I Know We're Lost but) Soon We'll Be Found by hopeneverdies:

Summary: “Fuck, Haz, pick up!” He literally shouted into his phone. The trembling in his voice matching the shaking of his hands. After the fourth ring he was sent to voice mail. He wasn’t sure if Harry was already on his flight or if he was just ignoring Louis’ call but all he knew was that their little girl needed her fathers and nothing else mattered at that moment.

“Harry, this is an emergency! Please call me back! There’s been an accident and Junie is hurt. She’s at St. Andrew’s. I’m on my way there right now. Christ, I really wish I knew what time your flight was supposed to leave!”

By the time he finished the message he could feel the pressure of salty tears building behind his eyes. A few minutes later he pulled into the hospital car park and rushed through the emergency room doors.

Or the canon compliant future fic where Harry and Louis are experiencing some marital complications that leaves them both angry with one another and worried about their future. When their young daughter suffers a potentially serious injury that keeps Harry from flying to California for his job, it serves as a reminder of how much they still need and love each other.

I Follow Rivers by harrys:

Summary: It’s 8:25 when he rushes in, with his strong legs clad in striped trousers, a sleeveless turtleneck, and platform oxfords.

He’s waiting for his coffee two metres away from Harry and scrolling through his phone quickly, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Harry decides to take a chance and clears his throat.

[Alternatively: Louis writes for a fashion magazine, Harry writes for a music magazine and dabbles in poetry. They like the same coffee shop, as well as each other.]

Mission Fucking Impossible by Swimnerd7:

Summary: “Are you and Louis fucking?”

Harry nearly spits out his drink, choking as he tries to communicate a "what the ever living fuck" to Niall with his eyes.

Niall takes another casual sip of his beer “Not like I’m the only one thinking it mate, I’m just the only one saying it out loud.”-

Harry is in love with Louis, and he is almost positive Louis is in love with him too. Naturally, Harry deals with this by trying to get Louis horny and hope for the best.

Things don't exactly work out how he plans.

if it kills me by you_explode:

Summary: Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

For Reasons Unknown by FallingLikeThis, Rearviewdreamer:

Summary: Six years after dying, Louis is suddenly thrust back into the life he'd lost. Support Group is supposed to help him adjust to everything that's changed but he finds the experience sadly lacking. Well, except there is one curly-haired lad that's there too. He kind of makes it worth going.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson:

Summary: “Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just...fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he's never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

#larry #larry fic #larry fics #larry fic rec #larry fics rec #larry fic recs #fics #fic rec #fic recs #monday fic rec #monday fic recs #fanfiction #larry fanfiction #harry styles #louis tomlinson #larry stylinson

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joylee56 · 7 years

Text

Have You Tried Turning It Off and On?

For Ifishouldvanish; Happy RCIJ!

For the prompt, ‘Hey, you’re the jerk...’

Rating: Explicit; Also Lacey has a potty mouth.

“I’m pretty sure nurse maid isn’t part of my job description.” Lacey said.

“You’re the project manager. Babysitting is pretty much what project managers do.”

(part 3 of 3)

The afternoon before the regionals, a battered VW van pulled up in front of the pink house. Even before Neal clattered down the stairs and out the door, Lacey rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. Talk about cliché.”

“Five bucks says that thing runs on methane.” Jeff came up behind her.

“No bet.” She told him. “Is Gold really going to let her drive his kid around in that thing?”

“At some point tonight I imagine he’s going to check the engine and the undercarriage, but, yeah, he’ll grit his teeth and let Neal go with her.” Jeff shook his head. “I never figured out what he saw in her. Alice claimed that the attraction was because she was a free spirit. Something Rum just could never be. Myself I don’t buy it. After his Dad the last thing Rum would want is someone unreliable.”

“What’s the deal with his Dad?” Lacey asked. “He talks about the Aunts who raised him, but he’s never mentioned either parent.”

“Mom split when he was a baby. Dad was a petty crook. The Aunts got custody of Rum when he was eight because Dad got sent up the river.” Jeff said. “And you have to get him really drunk before he’ll talk about his childhood before that.”

That explained his reaction when she told him about Dad.

The woman Neal pulled into the house was at least as tall as Rum. Dark curly hair like Neal’s was pulled back in a pony tail. She was darkly tanned in the way of someone who worked outdoors rather than a sunbather. Based on Rum’s comments Lacey figured her for early forties. She might be tall but it would not be long before all that sun made her look a lot older, Lacey thought snidely.

Jeff greeted her in his most erratic manner. Which since he’d just be speaking coherently to Lacey was clearly put on. “Milah, my dear, back from the seas. Any tales of adventure to impart?”

Without waiting for a reply, he added, “This is Lacey French our new project manager. Lacey, this is Neal’s mother, Milah… is it still Cassidy, Milah, or has your rugged Captain finally gotten you to the altar?”

“It’s Cassidy.” Milah’s smile was a little forced as she shook hands. Clearly Jeff’s antipathy toward the woman was mutual.

“Lacey’s been helping us practice for the competition, Mum.” Neal at least was happy. And missing the friction between his mother and Jeff. “And she makes the best Tea. With scones and custards some times.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Milah was giving her the once over and was not impress with what she saw Lacey could tell.

So she thickened her accident and told the other woman. “No worries. Neal and his mates are good kids.”

Luckily Gold appeared before the conversation went further. “Milah, you’re looking well.”

“And you look the same as always, Rum.” She responded. “Still dressing like it’s 1950.”

“The customers expect professional attire from someone who bills at the rates I do.” Gold said blandly. “Neal, why don’t you show your Mum her room and then we can have a nice cup of tea.”

“You want me to fix the tea?” Lacey asked as Neal took his mother upstairs. The boy was excitedly filling her in on his recent activities.

“No.” Gold sighed. “This is in no way your responsibility.”

“I was offering as a friend.” She told him. “Serve some of the scones I made for the kids’ snacks tomorrow. Nobody can say I don’t make good scones.”

“They have white flour and processed sugar.” Gold sighed. “She won’t eat them.”

Lacey made a mental note to be sure to send Neal care packages while he was gone.

After Neal had to run off to the last prep meeting before the conference. Gold served Milah tea in the kitchen. Lacey could not resist listening in.

They spoke for awhile about the summer plans for Neal and then Milah asked, “Where did you find her.” Her tone was accusing.

Yeah, well, I’m not real impressed with you either, lady. Lacey thought.

“Lacey? We really got lucky there.” She winced. When Gold was nervous he sometimes did not consider the subtext of what he was saying. Not that Milah was not clearly already thinking along those lines.

“She was working at Megacorp.” Gold continued. “When they closed their office here we were able to hire her. She’s fantastic at keeping Jeff on track. Better than I ever was. And she doesn’t mind at all having the kids underfoot while we’re working. Neal has really taken to her.”

“Good strategy.” Milah said. “Cozy up to the kid.”

“It’s not like that, Milah.” For the first time Gold’s voice took on an edge. Good he was finally standing up for himself. “And even if it were, you lost the right to comment on it ten years ago.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just she doesn’t seem like your type.”

“She’s smart, efficient and kind to my son. All of which rate high in my book for both a co-worker and a friend.”

Lacey rode to the regionals with Jeff and Grace. She decided Neal did not need her and his mother at odds before the competition. The Team did pretty well, considering their inexperience.

At the end of one extremely difficult round, Neal pulled out a win by correctly answering a geometry question he and she had practiced for what seemed like hours.

“Alright!” Lacey shouted. Pumping the air with her fists.

Then she remembered that nobody else was as much as clapping. Neal was looking embarrassed. Damn.

The moderator looked amused. “That your Mom, Neal?”

“Uhm, no.” Neal muttered. “That’s Lacey. She works with my Dad.”

“She helped us prep.” Morraine put in loyally. “She made flash cards and drilled us.”

“And she makes the best scones.” August added as if it explained everything. “She’s Australian.”

Which it kind of did. Back in Sydney the audience would have been a lot less stodgy.

In the end the team placed fourth. Which was not high enough to get them a place at the National event, but did leave them the team to beat next year. They did not seem too disappointed.

The first day after Neal left with his Mother, Lacey brought food to work.

“What’s that?” Gold asked.

“Neal made me promise to look after you while he was gone. So I figure I better make sure you get at least one healthy meal a day.” She held up her casserole. “Chicken curry. I’m not sure it will be as authentic as your neighbors in Glasgow used to make, but Dad swears it’s delicious.”

Gold frowned. “I don’t need a minder.”

“According to Neal you loose track of time when you get programming. I’ve seen you do it so don’t deny it. And Jeff’s working short days while Grace is out of school so you’ll have no one you need to keep on time for.” She pointed out. “So either humor me, or I tell Neal. You don’t want to spoil his summer worrying about you do you.”

“You are a very evil young woman.” Gold told her. Then, “Fine. But we’ll split the cooking. And you’ll share the dinner every day. I suspect you live on noodles when you don’t eat here.”

So they started having a nice sit down dinner every mid-day. They generally cooked enough to feed Jeff and Grace when they were about. Since most often they were not, that made for left overs for Rum to have for supper.

It occurred to Lacey that she was spending more time with Rum than she had with any number of boyfriends. And enjoying his company more. He was a friend she decided and refused to think about it further.

Or she tried not too. Her friends were not making it easy.

She worked late one night writing the help manual for the program. When Rum caught her falling asleep at her desk he told her, “Go upstairs and crash in the guest room. You’re no good to us exhausted.”

Jeff had already arrived when she made it downstairs the next morning. He took one look at her in yesterday’s outfit and exclaimed. “Well it’s about time. I thought the two of you were going to dance around each other forever.”

“I just crashed in the guest room because I was too tired to drive home, Jeff. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Of course not.” He smirked. “However the two of you want to play it, little doily. Just know you have my blessings.”

They were getting close enough to finished to start thinking about how they were going to start their marketing efforts. Once again her buddy Google came through with an answer. She excitedly told Gold about it.

“I’ve been looking into it and we should announce Vizeercalc at the big computer conference in Vegas end of the month. Not only would we get a good shot at some publicity from all the tech reporters looking for material, but we’ve basically got our target market as a captive audience. I managed to sweet talk the organizers into giving us a presentation spot. It’s Friday morning, which isn’t a time most companies want, but it could actually work for us cause that will give us the rest of the weekend to hit up distributors and sell product. Isn’t that great?”

Gold did not look like he thought it was great. If anything he looked slightly nauseous. “A presentation? At the Vegas conference? There are thousands of people at that thing.”

“Well, I doubt we’ll be lucky enough to have thousands attending our presentation. Although you never know, if we can get enough buzz going we might get one of the large conference rooms. Which would be great.” Lacey enthused. “We’ll need a demo and to work on what you’re going to say.”

“What I’m going to say?” He now looked actively ill. “No. Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’ll put together a demo for our booth and talk to the distributors, but I’m not doing a presentation.”

“Well, we can’t expect Jeff to do it.” Lacey pointed out. “The guy’s barely coherent on a good day. I’m not sure we should even take him to Vegas. It’d upset his routine too much.”

“Well, I’m not doing it either.” Rum stated. “Call them back and cancel it.”

“What?” Lacey was near losing her temper. “Do you have any idea how much sweet talking and butt kissing I had to do to get us on the schedule for a presentation?”

He was rubbing his fingers together. “I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”

Then it dawned on her what the problem was. “You afraid to speak in front crowds?”

“I didn’t even like to give reports at company meetings.” Rum admitted. “Alice used to do them for me. I’m okay sitting off to the side and answering questions, but to be the center of attention like that… I just can’t.”

“Could you answer the technical questions if I did the actual talk?” This was too big a chance for them to pass up. “I mean you’d have to write the speech for me, but I did some acting in high school. I can memorize a script. I just can’t answer the questions.”

“I could do that.” He agreed.

So she booked them. And nearly had a heart attack when she saw the cost of the hotel. “Rum, the hotel wants to charge us as much as my rent for two rooms for three nights. What would you think about sharing a room?”

Gold blinked. “Uhm, that it would violate Golden Hat’s Sexual Harassment policy.”

“Since when do we have a Sexual Harassment policy?”

“Since you came up with the idea of us sharing a room.” Gold retorted.

She had to snicker. “I promise not to harass you.”

“Still, pay for the rooms with my personal credit card.”

She manage to get adjoining rooms. Because they were going to have to coordinate a lot of stuff and that would make it easier. “But don’t worry. You can lock your side at night to make sure I don’t ravish you.”

Jeff had snorted at that. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to pretend at this point. Neal’s not here to keep up appearances for. Not that he hasn’t figured it out.”

So Friday, the first morning of the biggest computer conference in country, Lacey strutted out onto the platform set up as a temporary stage. Wearing a tight short black skirt with a white silk blouse, and a pair of black four inch pumps. Regina had helped her pick out the outfit. They decided to err on the sexy side of 'professional but sexy'. “Because chances are most of the guys there are more familiar with what professional women wear in the movies than in real life.” Regina had pointed out.

She had done a social media blitz that had gotten their presentation upgraded to one of the larger conference rooms, and it was full. With people standing in the back.

“Hellooow, Vegas!” She waved out at the crowd. “Are we having fun yet?”

There was a weak murmur from the audience. “Oh, come on, mates. We're in Vegas. Is any place more going off than this?”

They had all decided she would stress her accent. Rum had muttered something about. “It will be more memorable.” From the way Jeff smirked it was clearly an inside joke between them.

The audience laughed at all the right places in her presentation, so she figured it went pretty well. Rum ran demos of the program in real time on the screen behind her and answered the technical questions from the audience. Surprisingly there were a lot of non tech questions she could answer.

Like “Why do you call it Vizeercalc?”

“Because the original version was developed while our head programmer was working at Enchanted Software. As many of you may remember all of Enchanted’s programs had names with a fairy tale connections.” She told them. “It’s a visual calculator hence Vizeercalc.

“And our lawyer says changing the names and getting new trademarks is a whole lot more trouble than learning to live with some silly names.” She grinned. “We’ve decided its going to be a feature of Golden Hat’s new product line.”

“Are you going to re-release Enchanted’s Daggerquest:” The next guy in line asked.

Lacey did not remember that one. Gold just shrugged at her. “Well it wasn’t in the top ten programs we’re updating for release. But if there’s a demand for it we’ll get round to it eventually.”

“You have to re-release Daggerquest.” A woman in the third row spoke up. “I loved that game as a kid. If was one of the few games at the time that allowed you to play a female character.”

“And it had the best puzzle’s. It took me weeks to figure out how to get past the Wyrm on level 12.” Another voice spoke up.

Clearly they needed to do some market research and not just rely on Jeff’s preferences. “We’re going to be putting up a poll on our website as to what you’d be interesting in seeing brought back. Check it out in a couple of days and tell us what you think.”

“That actually went pretty well.” Gold told her when they finished the question and answer period and were back at their booth. “Be sure to let Jeff know you’re going to be adding a poll to the website. And be sure to make them give you their email so people can’t vote multiple times.”

“I knew the minute I said that you’d dump it on me.” Lacey sighed. “At least it will give me something to talk about in the next couple of blog posts.”

About mid afternoon Lacey got approached by an Asian man in a suit who bowed and presented her with a card. Not knowing what else to do she returned the bow and gave him one of her brand new cards in return.

Which seemed like the right thing to have done because he smiled broadly. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. French. I saw your presentation this morning. Most informative. I was curious to know if it would be possible to adapt your program for use on our game machines?”

She glanced at the card. Holy shit. Somehow she kept her smile. “I imagine so. Let me get our head programmer and he can address the more technical aspects.”

Gold was running a demonstration showing off a bunch of Greek letters for a couple of professor types. She dragged him away, inviting the professors to experiment on their own.

“Nintendo wants to know if if you can get Vizeercalc to run on their game machines!” She hissed in his ear.

“It already does.” Rum informed the Nintendo guy calmly. “Or at least it works on the Switch. I set it up for my son to use for his homework. We don't have a Wii so I've never looked into what that would entail.”

It seemed that Nintendo would be delighted to supply him with the developers kit and a console for him to do so. They set up an appointment to discuss the details of getting the program marketed through the Nintendo game shop the next afternoon.

After the guy left Lacey sank into a chair. “You freak out a the idea of doing a presentation, but Nintendo wants to make a deal and you're cool as a cucumber. Rum, you're killing me here.”

“It's just another marketing company.” Rum shrugged. “They're always looking for new product. We won't make as much on the ones they sell as the ones we sell ourselves but the volume will probably make up for it.”

Lacey made a cup of tea to settle her nerves and did an internet search to see if anybody had any good advise for bargaining with Nintendo. Gold went back to his professors.

Who both ended up buying a copy. “They want to know if we'll give an institutional discount if they can talk their IT department into buying the program for the Uni.” He reported back.

“We need to discuss that tonight when we call Jeff. I'm inclined to, but we need to decide how much.”

After that they closed up the booth and went in search of dinner, neither of them being particularly inclined to try any of the restaurants in the hotel. “I like sushi as well as the next girl. But I’m not eating it in a state that’s landlocked.” Lacey declared.

They ended up at a Mexican place off the strip recommended by the taxi driver. Lacey restricted herself to one beer in the knowledge that they were going to be hitting a lot of parties tonight to mingle with distributors.

Rum tried the horchata and rather liked it. “Reminds me of the way I used to make tea for Neal when he was a wee one. Enough actual tea for color and the rest milk and sugar.”

“You do drink don’t you? Cause all of these ‘hospitality suites’ are going to be offering booze.” If he kept any liquor in the house it was well hidden.

“I’m a bad Scotsman in that regard.” He admitted. “I mean, I enjoy a good whisky, but Jeff and Alice were the only ones I’ve had to drink with since Milah left and since the accident Jeff can’t mix alcohol with his meds, so a night out on the town has been Granny’s for ice cream of late.

“Usually when I go to these business functions I get a beer and stand around holding it.” He explained. “Nobody pays attention to whether you’re actually drinking or not and that way I don’t have to suffer American beer.”

“This Mexican stuff’s not bad.” Lacey took a sip. “I mean not up to Guinness standards, but it’s better than the fizzy water that passes for beer here in the states.”

Rum proved to be as bad at networking at the hospitality suites as Lacey had expected him to be. She took to leading him around and only bringing him into the conversation when there were technical questions she did not know the answer to. This appeared to suit him just fine. He even periodically fetched her drinks. Although she noticed that the drinks got mixed weaker and weaker as the evening progressed.

They had their best luck at the Newegg hospitality suite. Lacey did not even have to complete her pitch before she got passed on to a marketing specialist. They left with a packet detailing their options for selling through Newegg and an appointment tomorrow to discuss terms.

“I like the looks of the premier package.” Gold commented as he looked through the packet. “And the commission they charge seems quite reasonable. Are we done for the night? I’d like to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow between manning the booth and meeting with both Nintendo and Newegg.”

Lacey checked her list. “Yeah, we’ve done all the heavy hitters. We can talk to some of the smaller folks tomorrow after our meetings.”

Their adjoining rooms came with a connecting door. Lacey got ready for bed and was about to turn off her light when she noticed the light was still on in Gold’s room.

In deference to Gold’s shyness she knocked on the door and called out, “Rum, you decent?” before pushing it open.

He was seated at the table with his laptop. “Damn it, Rum, you said you wanted to get some sleep. If you stay up all night programming you’re not going to be good for anything tomorrow.”

“I just wanted to unwind a bit.” He glance up at her and then quickly looked away.

The over-sized tee shirt she was wearing to sleep in covered more of her than many of her daytime outfits. He had no reason to be bothered.

The reverse was certainly not true. He was wearing a snug tee shirt and a pair of loose pajama pants that showed off the muscles of his arms and shoulders and lean hips.

It was not like she had not admired the fit of his tailored slacks, but she was getting quite an eyeful here.

Get a grip, girl. This is business. “Don’t make me take away your computer. If you want to unwind watch some TV. I’m sure the hotel has a porn channel. Believe me, if Jeff notices it on the bill he’s not going to complain.”

Gold blushed. “He’d probably cheer.” He muttered.

“Exactly. Now get to bed.” She shut the door firmly on the way back to her room. It was almost tempting to offer to watch a porno with him just to see how embarrassed he would be.

And a small part of her would kind have wanted him to take her up on it.

The meetings with Nintendo and Newegg went very well. Nintendo wanted them to come back Sunday and sign a contract. They sent off the draft to Regina for her review. Which got a text in return. “You do know it’s Saturday don’t you?”

“She just likes to snark.” Gold said. “She’s enjoying all this. It’s exciting compared to the patent and employment law she usually does.”

“Not to mentions she’s billing us $400 an hour.” Lacey pointed out.

“It’s worth it. She’ll make sure the contracts are on the up and up.”

After lunch they were back working the booth, when a big athletic fellow that topped Gold by half a head suddenly walked up to him and slapped him on the back. “Rum! Good to see you. How the hell have you been?”

The slap knocked Rum forward a step and Lacey could see him fighting to keep his balance. She was close enough to grab his arm and help him.

“Mr. Hordor.” Rum nodded briefly at the larger man. “Uhm, very well, thank you. Lacey, this is Mr. Hordor. He was Alice and my manager when we worked at Ogre Inc. Mr. Hordor, this is Lacey French, Head of Marketing for Golden Hat.”

Well that was true in the sense that Gold and Jeff passed off all the marketing stuff to her, but the way he said it made it sound like she was his boss or something. And wasn’t this the guy that Jeff disliked because of the way he had treated Alice?

Hordor was delighted to meet her. And they exchanged small talk for a few minutes before he got down to what he really wanted. “I’m with Dark Computer now, you know.”

“I hadn’t heard.” Rum was not looking the guy in the eyes.

“Yeah. We make custom built computers.”

Which they marketed at a price that made Dell look reasonable. But they mostly sold them to companies like Megacorp that needed specialized or outdated equipment. She had researched them when she was writing her proposal back at Megacorp.

Hordor when on, “I’ve been telling everyone about this program you’re marketing. Looks a lot like that one you worked on at Enchanted. I always thought it was a real shame Ogre didn't do more with that, but the powers that were had a ‘vision’ of how their programs were suppose to interact and the stuff you and Alice wrote just didn’t fit in a lot of the time. Left me caught in the middle as the hatchet guy.”

“It was a long time ago.” Gold murmured.

“And now you’ve got the chance to market it yourself.”

They were not making any secret of Vizeercalc’s history. “We’ve made some significant updates to it, but the basic principal is the same.” Lacey said, since Gold was not saying anything.

“It looks like a real decent little program. Anyway we’d like to set up a meeting tonight to talk about bundling it with our system. Say seven o’clock?”

“Yes, of course.” Gold told him.

After Hordor left, Lacey turned to Gold. “Are you nuts? Jeff would have our scalps if we agreed to do business with that guy. And Dark Computers has an awful reputation for how they treat their suppliers.”

“Oh, if I can pull this off I think Jeff will love the deal.” Rum smiled wickedly. “We’ll need to get you properly prepared though. I’m going to write you another script.”

In the end they set up a chat on their tablets. There were too many variables for her to work off of a script so Gold was going to prompt her from his tablet. They lucked out and they were seated at a table so he could hold the tablet on his lap and hopefully the folks from Dark Computing would not be able to see what he was doing.

Lacey once again ran through her presentation. Cutting some of the broader jokes since the audience was a lot stodgier.

At the end the guy in charge, a Mr. Zoso said. “Hordor was right. This would be a useful little program to add to our bundle. What sort of licensing fee are you asking?”

“I’m afraid we don’t license our programs.” Lacey smiled sweetly.

They had actually discussed this when they worked out their fee structure. Gold’s comment had been. “After all the trouble to get it, I’ll burn the source code myself before I’ll let anybody else get there hands on it.”

“What we can offer you is an arrangement whereby you give your customers a confirmation code allowing them to download the program from our site. We provide all the customer service. You don’t have to do any installation and you only pay for the program for those customers who actually download it.”

She went on. “And because of Mr. Hordor’s prior relationship with Mr. Gold and Alice Milliner we are prepared to offer you our Antiqam plan.” She brought up the slide Gold had hastily put together while she studied for the meeting. “As you can see there is a sliding scale base on number of units sold. You’re the only one we have offered this deal here at the conference.”

Mr. Zoso barely glanced at the slide. “We’ll want another twenty percent off that. After all we’re a major computer supplier. Having your product distributed with our machines will increase your name recognition immeasurably.”

Gold texted. ‘Agree 3 years’.

“I think we could do that.” Lacey said it reluctantly. “We would need a long term commitment at that rate. Say five years?”

Zoso looked smug when he talked her down to three. They signed a summary of the agreement and promised that Regina would get a contract over to them first of the week. Hordor walked them to the elevator. “This is great. I knew we could put a deal together when I heard it was you.”

“Indeed it worked out very well.” Gold answered.

Once they were alone on the elevator, Lacey said, “I still don’t think we should have called it the Antiqam plan. What if somebody who speaks Arabic sees it?”

“I very much doubt a company like Dark Computing has anyone in management who speaks Arabic and the tech people who do aren’t going to be inclined to translate it for them. Their employee relations are even worse then with their suppliers.” Gold was grinning. “Let’s call Jeff and tell him the good news.”

They found an unoccupied corner of the hotel bar to make the call from. Lacey told the server. “We just cut a big deal and we want your best bottle of champagne.

“Well your best under a hundred bucks.” She added. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

The server, clearly used to tech nerds, suggested, “I’ve got a very nice Cava Brut that is much better than any champagne we have in that price range.”

“As long as it has bubbles bring it on.” Lacey told her.

By that point Gold had told Jeff about the sale to Dark Computing. He put his phone on speaker so she could hear the response. “Are you out of your fu… freakin’ mind?! Making a deal with that… thug.”

Apparently Grace was still up.

“We even gave him the special Antiqam deal.” Lacey told Jeff sweetly. “Minus twenty percent that is.”

“Antiqam? I don’t remember any Antiqam plan.” Jeff said.

“That’s because we put it together this afternoon.” Gold told him. “It’s our standard vendor sales package except we tripled all the prices.”

There was dead silence for a minute. “So we’re selling them the right to distribute Vizeercalc to their customers at...”

“With the twenty percent discount they’re paying us forty percent more than we’re charging our retail customers.” Rum was grinning wickedly again. “And they’re going to be promoting it as a special perk to all their corporate customers.

“Antiqam is Arabic for revenge.” Gold explained.

“Oh. Oh!” Jeff started to laugh. “It’s perfect. Alice would have loved it. You’re hitting them where it hurts the most, their bottom line, and Hordor will probably never realize he’s been had.”

“At some point I imagine somebody at Dark Computing will check our website and realize they’ve been had. At which point they’ll stop distributing it, but until then we should have a very nice income stream.” Gold said.

The wine came and Jeff joined in a drink over the phone. He treated himself to a can of Dr. Pepper.

Lacey toasted. “To Dark Computing, may their due diligence always be as sloppy as it was today.”

Jeff came back with, “To the best deal makers and partners a guy could have. Enjoy the rest of the conference guys, you’ve earned it.”

After they hung up, Lacey commented, “We forgot to tell him about Nintendo and Newegg.”

“It can wait until we get home.” Rum sipped his wine. “He’s too excited about the deal with Dark Computing to take those in anyway.”

“And rightly so.” Lacey poured herself a second glass. ““You were such a badass today. I didn’t know you had that kind of sneaky in you.”

He shyly bowed his head. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Lacey. You’re not who I thought you were when we met. I’m sorry for judging you like that.”

“I don’t exactly go out of my way to correct the impression.” Lacey told him. “But I misjudged you as well. You’re not that shy little nerd. Or not just the shy nerd and I’m glad.”

That brought on the cutest little shy smile. “I’m glad I got you fired. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come to work for us and we’ve never have gotten to know each other.”

“Finally you admit you got me fired.”

He shrugged. “Like Jeff says, I was in the chain of causation.”

What the hell. They were in Vegas. “We need to celebrate!”

“I thought we were.” Gold smiled some more as he raised his glass of wine.

“Really celebrate.” Lacey tossed back what was left of her wine and grabbed the bottle to take with them. She grabbed Rum’s hand with her free one. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” He asked as she pulled him to the elevator.

“Your room.”

“M-my room?”

“Well mine’s got all the stuff from the booth piled all over it.” She explained. She let go of his hand. Running hers up his chest. “Unless you’d don’t want to?”

“Uhm, how much have you had to drink?” He asked.

“Oh, come on, Rum. You seriously think two glasses of wine is enough to make me tipsy?” She laughed. “It’s very responsible of you to ask, but I am more than capable of giving consent. How about you? I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you in a drunken state.”

“I’m definitely feeling light headed.” He bent down and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “But I don’t think it’s the wine.”

“Great.” The elevator had made it to their floor. “Hold that thought while we get somewhere more comfortable.’

Once they were in his room she pushed him against the door and proceeded to kiss him properly. He was a surprisingly good kisser. She had her hands in his hair and was plastered against him when he pulled back for a minute. “Uhm, maybe we should, uhm bed?”

“Good idea.” His leg probably wouldn’t take a standing position.

She kicked off her heels as they headed for the bed. Once there they went back to kissing.

After several moments of very nice kissing, his hands started to wander. First to her waist and then up to cup her breast. “That’s nice, but I prefer you play with my nipples.” She told him. Sitting up she pulled off her top.

“Quick rubbing to start with, but once things get going light pinching is good too.”

Rum blinked at her and then smiled. “As you wish.”

He was good at following instructions. It did not take long before he had her bra off. Then his mouth joined his hand. She was getting wet and they did not even have all their clothes off. She started to remedy that by getting rid of his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, but could not get the shirt off lying like this. “Cuff links? You wore a shirt with French cuffs to a convention?”

He sat up and undid the cuff links, dropping them on the night table. This gave Lacey a chance to get his belt undone and go for his zipper.

“Uhm, I don’t have any...”

“Condoms? Pretty sure I’ve got a couple in my purse.” She had dropped the tiny bag she was carrying next to her shoes. “Yep, I’ve only got two though so we’ll need to plan ahead.”

“While I appreciate the compliment, I doubt that will be an issue.” He looked a little embarrassed.

“No worries.” She sashayed back to the bed and proceeded to slide out of her skirt. She figured he would enjoy removing her knickers. Besides they were a pretty blue lace. “I’m not picky as long as I get off at some point.”

“I shall do my best.” He smirked slightly.

This was fun. Most men were way too serious in bed. Especially the first time.

They got rid of Rum’s shirt and trousers so they were down to a level playing field. He went back to her breast to make up for the interruption.

When she started wiggling her hips his hand slid down to play with the edges of her knickers. “How do you like to, uhm, get there?” He asked.

“I don’t generally come just from fucking.” If he was going to ask, she would certifiably tell him. “Not without some stimulation before hand.”

“Fingers or would you like me to… uhm, use my mouth?” His voice trailed off.

For a shy guy, he did not seem to have much problem getting to the point. “If you’re offering oral, I’m not turning it down.”

“I rather like to.” He sounded embarrassed, but he was scooting down the bed to get level with her hips.

Together they pulled off her knickers. He kissed up the inside of her thighs, and then on to her folds.

“Yeah, that good.” She encouraged. As he tongue came into play, she squeaked.

“Good?”

“Fuck, yes! Don’t stop.” She was really learning to love that wicked grin he got.

He added a finger to what he was doing. She was rapidly losing the ability to concentrate. One thing she was sure of. “Rum, fuck me.”

At some point in the proceeding that she had missed he had already gotten the condom on. It took only moments to crawl up the bed and line them up. He slid into her slowly gauging her reaction.

Their height differences left them nicely face to face. She slipped her arms around his back and encouraged him. “That’s good. Keep going.”

His thrusts were too slow to start. But at, “Faster please.” He picked up the pace.

“Oh, God, Lacey. You’re so… It’s…” He kissed down her neck.

Words were overrated at this point. She wrapped her legs around his butt and crossed her ankles to get some leverage to push back against him. She was getting close. She could feel the pulsing that started her orgasm. “Yeah, like that.” She tightened around him as she came. Pulsing harder now. Her breath matching the pulses and making her light headed.

She crested and rode the end of the pulsing. Rum had stilled, but was still hard inside her. “Okay?” He asked.

“Fine fucking tastic. Go ahead.”

He kissed her some more as he got his rhythm back. He seemed to like her tightening her legs as he thrust, so, now she tried to match him. Even after her own finish he felt good pushing and then retreating. She was a little sorry when he lost the rhythm and finished.

He pulled out and rolled over before he softened enough for the condom to get loose. A gentleman to the end. She handed him some tissues from the nightstand. He used them to wrap the condom, but did not get up. Instead wrapping his arms around her and snuggling next to her side. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“I’d say it was a mutually beneficial experience, but your welcome.” She found she was smirking. She ran her hand up his back and found some scratches. “Crap. Did I do that? I’m sorry.”

“It actually added to the experience.” He admitted. “I didn’t realize I was into that.

“Uhm, will you stay?”

She found herself yawning. “For awhile. I don’t think my legs are up to carrying me back to my own room anyway.”

She was pretty sure he was still awake when she dozed off herself.

Something tickled her nose. She squirmed a little to get away.

“Lacey,” A voice said softly. “Lacey, you need to wake up. It’s 8:15.”

That brought her awake. Rum was sitting next to her on the bed. Shaved and dressed.

“8:15! We’re supposed to meet Nintendo at 9:00! I’ll barely have time for a shower and check out is at 11:00!” She jumped out of bed.

“I’ve got all the equipment packed up. You just need to get ready for the meeting.” He told her as she headed toward the door connected to her room. “And I’ve order breakfast. I hope a fry up is all right?”

“Sounds great.” She was famished. Apparently taking Rum to bed brought on an appetite.

He had not only packed up the equipment but had started putting her things into her suitcase. She grabbed clean undies and jumped into the shower.

There was not enough time to dry her hair properly, so she pulled it into a messy up do that suggested ‘I’ve been up to naughty things in Vegas’ without actually looking cheap.

She only had one clean outfit left so dressing required no decisions. She was just finishing her makeup when Rum knocked on her door and announced. “Breakfast is here.

“I ordered you a large juice. And uhm there’s aspirin if you need it.” He gestured toward the table.

“After a couple of glasses of wine? Rum, we didn’t even finish off that bottle. I’m fine.” She did down the juice. She was thirsty as well as hungry. Last night had been quite a work out is seems. “How about you?”

“Leg’s stiff but it will walk out.” He smiled shyly at her. “Otherwise I feel better than I have in a while.”

“Do you good to...” Something about the way he was looking at her caused her to do what she rarely did and censor her comment. Instead of ‘get laid’ she said, “...Let down your hair occasionally.”

The Egghead rep texted about meeting with them while they were signing papers with Nintendo. Which made them late and they had to rush to make their flight. So it was not until the flight took off that they had any time to themselves. Rum was rubbing his fingers together like he did when he spun.

Great. She was probably in for a ‘talk’. She really did not want to hear him ‘let her down gently’. He would probably use Neal as an excuse.

At least he bought her a beer before he started. “Uhm, so about last night? Was that a one off, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas or uhm, are we… dating now?”

That did not sound like he was bailing on her. “Would you want to? Date I mean.”

He ducked his head, but was glancing at her from behind his hair. “Yeah. Uhm, but if you don’t I’ll understand. And not let it effect our work. You’re too… important to the business now to let… personal issues… confuse things.”

So at least she did not have to worry about her job if she turned him down.

Thing was she had come to like Rum. He was a friend. And last night had not been half bad. Any man who offered oral without prompting was probably trainable.

“I wouldn’t mind trying things out.” She decided. “I’m not promising forever or anything, but we can see where things go. If you want.”

“I’d like that.” He took her hand. And held it even after he dozed off with his drink only half finished.

It was incredibly cheesy, but Lacey let him keep holding on. Even going so far as to move his drink so he would not spill it accidentally while he slept. He probably needed the sleep. He was not used to the late nights they had kept at the conference.

And looking after programmers was what a good project manager did. It had nothing to do with the fact that he looked kind of cute sort of half curled around their joined hands.

Cause she was not sentimental school girl. Nope. Not her.

The end.

#Ifishouldvanish #Rumbelle Christmas in july #Have You Tried Turning It Off and On #rumbelle fic #rcij

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