#to work with the shitty people they send over here. heartbreaking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frostironfudge · 2 years

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Silhouettes In the Spotlight - Bucky Barnes - Two

Summary: Bucky Barnes has worked immensely hard to have a filmography expanding across genres and garnering accolades from critics, peers and fans. Y/N Y/L/N, with her debut novel (fan-fiction turned New York Times Bestseller) has two other best sellers under her belt. Next is her highly anticipated fourth book lined up for release. SHEILD Productions has acquired the film rights to her debut novel and they want Bucky Barnes to play the lead (aka himself) by any means necessary. This story is about angst, lust, heartbreak, and love. After all fairytales only exist in books and movies right?

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, differing opinions, Hollywood drama, slightly mean!Bucky, allusions of cheating by secondary character (not on the reader), minor chracters have shitty opinions on fanfics which they verbalise, sad + bad home environment of the reader, miscommunication, allusions to body dysmorphia not explicitly discussed by bucky, bucky mentions a change in his diet.

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || AO3

Two Years Ago.

HEADLINES:

Exclusive! Bucky Barnes Inspired Rhys Bass climbing the BookTok and Bookstagram trends as best book boyfriend.

Read An Exclusive Interview With New Writer On The Block — Y/N Y/L/N

Uh Oh! Bucky Barnes looks every bit angry at Fan Asking For An Autograph On Book Based On Him!

NYT Bestseller Scores Y/N Four Book Deal.

Bucky Barnes Spotted For The First Time Since His High Profile Break Up, Getting LIT At Loki Laufeyson’s Soirée.

Bucky Barnes Spills His Guts On The Late Late Show About Ex Flames and His Current Movies and Shows Lined Up.

Move over Bucky Barnes, Author Y/N Had others She Wrote Fan-Fiction about— read an excerpt of this steamy Loki Laufeyson scene from her old Tumblr.

Looks Like This Author-Actor Duo Aren’t Going To Be Friends! Five Time Bucky Barnes Refused To Acknowledge Y/N!

You smoothen your jacket, a nervous habit before you take the podium. This was the second venue, the crowd much larger than the first one and you did spot a few reporters.

“You ready?” Yelena gives you a small smile, her phone recording you.

“I’m more nervous today?” You sort of ask, waving at the camera, she makes a silly face and you laugh.

“Go on out, I think your nerves will cease to be problems.” She assures, you take a deep breath, Yelena steps behind you.

The applause rings aloud, a few cheers the smile on your face bright. Yelena beams as well, recording your reaction and the crowd.

You take your place at the podium, gripping the wood a little hard.

“I would like to say thank you for taking time out of your day to spend it with Rhys, Doll and I.” You smile pointing at your book’s cut out as the crowd cheers.

“It really excites me to be here, though I feel nervous, seeing your smiling faces? It is incredible. Thank you so much.” You gush and carefully open up the first ever physical copy filled with your annotations, you clear your throat before you begin to read the the scene where Rhys and Doll video-call for the first time, for explaining his absence to her.

People squeal as you read over certain parts, making you laugh and agree with them. It feels so good to have a live reaction to the words you have written. Words so achingly familiar. Words that hold something of your own.

The reading comes to an end and the question and answer segment is drawn close.

Yelena steps in next to you to help pick people to voice their questions.

“I read it when this was the Bucky Barnes fan-fiction! Right from your tumblr days and it makes me so happy you’re published now, I wanted to ask, have you sent a copy of your book to Bucky? Has he responded?” She bounces on her heels finishing the question.

“I’m so grateful for you to be supporting me since my tumblr days, thank you for sticking by me for so long. I did ask my team to send his team a copy.” You smile, not answering the last bit because there was no response, it had been six months. Maybe he hated it? Bucky is a coveted bibliophile so he may have hated it. You had seen his books he has read list, no way would your work make it, you had accepted that fate.

“Alright next person, yes you in the grey.” Yelena gestures, they stand and the mic is passed towards them.

“Hi,” They say, sounding nervous.

“Hi, thank you for being here, I really like your Loki T-shirt.” You smile as their shoulders loose some of the tension.

“Th-thank you, um, my question is what inspired to write the story and what was the mindset behind the LDR being there?”

“That is a really good question,” you don’t let your voice waiver, “initially it wasn’t supposed to be an LDR, but we’ve seen so many pieces of art with long distance being this deal breaker more often than not, which is why I went along with a friendship between the two first as feelings brewed between Doll and Rhys. Inspiration actually was the idea to have these two people, from sort of different backgrounds with different physical appearances find a love that is all consuming, all burning bright, but which bloomed into something more deeper than just a superficial love.” You explain.

“Thank you.” They smile as they hand the mic back.

The questions range between light to heavy topics about the verbal abuse your female main character undergoes.

“Were you abused? Because you know writers write from their own experiences.” A person questions, eyebrows raised and you lose your bearings for a moment. The crowd is silent and your fingers tighten on the sides of the podium. You count your breaths silently.

“That question is very personal—,” Yelena begins, you clear your throat. She gives you a once over and you nod. Agreeing to answer.

“While writers do draw inspiration from what they have been through, but if that were true I would have my own ex military man standing with me as we shared our story right?” You laugh, hoping your tactic works and the person laughs as does the crowd.

“The way you made them stand up to the verbal abuse from the dad gave me courage to move out from my own toxic home. It gave me comfort and courage.” One male attendee says, you smile at him.

“I’m sorry you had to face a situation as that, I’m glad you were able to safely bring yourself out of it. I’m happy my work could be a way for you to find your inner strength.” You smile, they ask for a hug and you accept the request.

A few press reporters come forward,

“James Barnes recently gave an interview that he thinks fan-fiction is ‘messed up’, ‘an exploration of kinks that needs to be kept away.’ With a book that was a piece of fan-fiction about him with several sexual instances what is your opinion?” She raises a brow.

“Fan-fiction provided me with a means to return to fiction writing and improve my skills, I never thought I would get published, not in the wildest of dreams. Mr. Barnes is allowed to have his own opinions, I sincerely hope you’re quoting him correctly.” You add in an attempt to stop her from prying further.

“Whereas in a way he did inspire me to write my male lead in my fan-fiction as him physically, but that is where the similarities end. The characteristics of when Rhys Bass was written is unique to Rhys. I can understand where his reply is coming from, I hold nothing against him or his ideology about fan-fiction. I enjoyed reading it, writing it, if I still had time I may still be completing that one long overdue fan-fiction I have left about one of the characters he played or even the one Mr. Laufeyson played.” You chuckle.

“Holy shit the Mickey Henry one? The Jonathan Pine one was my guilty pleasure!” A crowd member calls out, you laugh, nodding.

“I still am sorry I left it, one day I will complete it till then the hiatus continues” You assure with a smile.

“So you think it isn’t weird writing about having sex with celebrities or having them do dark twisted things?” The same reporter presses on.

You take a steadying breath, “There are various forms of fiction, some dark, some light, some a mix of both, warnings are in place for people to not read something that is not their cup of tea or coffee or if it is something that is a potential trigger, recently in fiction books despite the risk of spoilers we put in triggers because as I said earlier reading is an escape. I myself have triggers and I appreciate the warning, I cannot tolerate major characters passing away. I vehemently avoid works as those, unless I know I am comfortable to read something or watch a movie with that,”

You pause, the reporter looks unimpressed as she jots things down, you’re glad Yelena records everything to put on your YouTube channel. A precaution against being misquoted and a portal for more interactions.

“Exploring sex, sexuality or anything through reading or writing is a personal choice, everyone is allowed to indulge in what they find to be a safe space for them. You watch celebrities have sex on screen, fan-fiction writer or rather writers, because it os what it is, fan-fiction we’re all writers,—we just write that in a different pairing. For inclusivity, for maybe wishful thinking, for a world of comfort. If it gets kinky it gets kinky. I didn’t see anyone complain when Fifty Shades came out? Well maybe people did, but that is with everything, you get positive and negative reviews.” You shrug turning towards another reporter.

“I agree with you, if it gets kinky it gets kinky.” They laugh, you smile, “My question is would you ever write a sequel? It’s just, Rhys and Doll are this pairing that just do so much for each other I cannot get enough.”

“Ohhh that is a good question, I would given the chance but the plot would need a lot of thinking, I mean they had enough angst.” You laugh, scratching the back of your neck and the crowd laughs in agreement.

“Do you have your next novel plotted out? We know your publication house has offered an extended book deal.” The last reporter questions.

Excited squeals echo before you can respond with a subtle nod as the crowd erupts in cheers. Tears brim your eyes at the love being shown towards you.

“Thank you for coming out, this is all the time we have, the signing will take place after half an hour.” Yelena announces before guiding you back to the small seating area.

“Bucky!” A number of people call out to him.

“Mr. Bucky Barnes to your right please.”

Bucky turns giving his signature smirk and wink to the cameras. A plethora of hoots and cheers resound in response.

“Bucky look here!”

“Here!”

“Angle left,”

“Right! Right!”

“Move along, and Vanity Fair wants a sound bite.” Sam leans in to whisper as Bucky walks along the red carpet.

“Bucky!”

“BUCKY I LOVE YOU.”

“Bucky this way.” Sam points, trying to get him to move along, he knew Bucky was one second away from running to his fans.

“I love you too!” Bucky calls out sending a flying kiss towards the section of fans he heard that from there, a ripple of squeals and further excitement as he leaves the marked space for the paparazzi pictures to greet his fans.

Sam only shakes his head but smiles. Only taking him away at the seven minute mark.

The movie premiere for I, Tonya was going okay, he had dodged questions about that damned book. Was this about his movie or about the fucking book? It was getting difficult to keep the exasperation out of his words.

He stands in front of the interviewer from Vanity Fair a smile on his face.

“Good Evening Everyone, we’re live from the red carpet screening of I, Tonya and I have with me the man of the moment, Mr. Bucky Barnes.” He beams into the camera.

“You’re too kind.” Bucky’s cheeks tinge red.

“Oh, it is the truth, how are we feeling tonight Mr. Barnes? I’m hearing through the grapevine that accolades are coming in.” The interviewer raises his brows.

Bucky’s expression morphs to surprise, “Oh wow, really? I’ve been in press stuff all day and jeez, this means a lot you know the fans they just its all because of them willing to watch me play these characters and people on the screen. Their love is so warm and very, very appreciated. I appreciate the critics too, just, I’m getting speechless.” he smiles into the camera then gives a nervous laugh.

“It is all well deserved, I yet have to see it, but I’m sure my socks will be blown off. Who are you wearing today?” The camera pans top to bottom.

Bucky closes one eye in deep thought, “Hugo Boss, so grateful and we love a velvet moment.” He grins, charming as ever, out of the corner Sam motions for them to wrap it up.

“Alright one more question, we heard you were sent a copy of the book of a certain handsome hunk who was inspired by you, given your love for reading, is it on your To Be Read List? Or is it not your preference.” The interviewer gleams as Bucky gives an half chuckle trying to mask his expression.

Fingers running over his stubble, Bucky considers his words, “The copy is there, yes, however filming and preparing for I, Tonya has just taken so much of my time I haven’t even yet gotten to my set TBR list, and the month is ending in a week, so I don’t even have a video to share!” He comically widens his eyes and extends his arms wide as if to say ‘can you believe it?’

In truth, the book was still laying in his office on the fucking table like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode upon him. His professional accolades to all be tied to that piece of fiction giving it the publicity to even be considered for the charts.

“Well thank you for your time, I’m so excited to see the movie and especially you in it.” The interviewer smiles and the actor waves at the camera before moving away.

Bucky grins at his fans, all of them so excited, so very happy to have this film come out.

Working so hard over the past year, their words of appreciation and encouragement helping him stay above the noise.

They tell him they love him and support him, he thanks them endlessly taking pictures, signing merchandise, posters and books they bought because of his passion for reading.

Security steps in telling him the interactions need to come to an end, reluctantly with an apologetic face he pulls away from them, giving more waves and flying kisses as he retreats.

“Bucky! Bucky! Please!” A voice calls and he looks at one of the fans, surprise colours his face as he jogs over to her.

“Oh my god, I remember you, Sierra!” He grins, leaning over the barricade to give her a hug, “I still have your sketched portrait.” He tells her and she smiles.

“I can’t believe you remember me!” She calls out, the people beside her reaching out to hold his hand. He slowly takes everyone’s hands one by one.

“How can I forget? I’m so glad to see you here.” He smiles as she rummages around her bag pack.

“Could, could you sign something for me? It isn’t yours but it got me through my last round of well you know,” she shrugs, Bucky nods understanding taking the sharpie out of her hands as she retrieved the object.

She produces a copy of the fucking book. The stupid embossed cover with the two goddamn flowers.

Bucky loses his smile, unable to mask his disdain. Biting the inside of his cheek he opens the inner title page, your signature at the bottom with a hand written message.

‘For Sierra, one of the strongest, funniest and sweetest women I know, it is an honour to speak to you and call you a friend. Lots of Love and forehead kisses x.’

His smile returns in the slightest, he writes his own message and returns the book, hoping his slip up isn’t apparent.

As he makes his way inside, one look from Sam is enough to let him know the slip up is going to go viral.

“You can at least act as if it doesn’t bother you.” Sam whispers as both of them smile at the producers while walking towards the bar.

“I told you I don’t want to be associated with it, already all the interviews are seventy percent ‘try to get a rise out of Bucky for the fucking book rather than his movie’. It is annoying. Blatantly disrespectful and frankly her entire NYT listing is leeching off of this premiere.” Bucky knows he sounds like a broken record or even a rude person, he doesn’t care at this point.

“I know you had a bad experience in that one interview with this topic of fan-fiction but I did have our team skim the book’s final draft, there is nothing that does damage to you, to who you have cultivated yourself to be.” Sam clasps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighs, “I know its just, I’m okay with the fact that fan-fiction is written some of it even exceptional but the way that one interview went, I, I wish I could unread it.” Bucky shudders at the memory.

“I’ll have you know, Barnes your face is being used as a reaction meme now.” Loki’s smooth voice cascades over the two.

“Loki!” Bucky turns with a beaming grin, “I thought you were held up in London!”

Loki chuckles, “And miss this premiere? Not a chance.” They hug, Loki chuckles as he finds Bucky relax further.

“Cmon, you have to let it go at some point, it’s good press.” Loki shakes his head as they pull away.

“The movie is somehow overshadowed.” Bucky rolls his eyes, swirling his drink.

“Mate, your break up over shadowed your TV series, my family crisis over-shadowed my broadway gig, and don’t get me started on how Natasha’s divorce took the spotlight from her at her Oscar nomination and win.” The green eyed man’s mouth twists into a grimace.

“Exactly, news will follow. How you deal with it is what will further it.” Sam adds to the wise words.

Bucky rolls his shoulders, the metal arm whirs lightly a soft reminder of things that can overshadow.

“Besides it was a good read.” Loki adds teasingly taking a sip of his old fashioned. Bucky chuckles shaking his head.

“It was, I’m not lying.” Loki raises his hands in defence.

“I’m not into cheesy romances.” Bucky rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath.

Sam and Loki stare at each-other for a moment and then at Bucky. Then the two of them begin to laugh.

“Oh man,” Sam chortles, wiping his eyes.

“Oh come on Bucky,” Loki runs a hand through his dark hair, “I’ve seen so many cheesy romances on your bookshelf. Even the tattered copies of Twilight. And Sophie Kinsella, which was that first book you read of hers?”

“Also remember when he cried because of those two characters not realising they love each other?” Sam questions interjecting Loki who nods,

“Of course it was a one hour call on the phone instead of reading further to see that they in-fact do come together.” Loki adds, a laugh still bubbling up.

“You both swore to secrecy.” Bucky glares at them, downing the remainder of his drink, and pushing away from their shits and giggles.

As he makes his way over to his co-stars, a familiar, irritating presence blocks his way— Brock Rumlow.

“Well I’ll be damned, Bucky Barnes.” He observes, taking a sip from his flask.

“Rumlow.” Bucky greets tight-lipped, wanting to dodge him.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Rumlow ebbs, edges of his words slurred.

“What do you want now, Rumlow?” Bucky enquires exasperated, “Or are you in need of a matching bruise?” He gestures to Rumlow’s still apparent bruised cheekbone and busted lip.

“You little fucker.” Rumlow moves to grab Bucky’s suit jacket, he takes a step back.

“Fuck off.” Bucky warns.

Rumlow has a sickening grin on his face,

“I think what I’m about to do to you will hurt more than this, weak hit you landed on me.” He watches someone behind Bucky.

A charming smile on his face, “Dottie.” Rumlow purrs almost, she giggles.

“Hi baby, who are you talking to— oh.” Dot’s face falls then she puts on a smile,

“Hi Bucky.” She wraps an arm around Rumlow’s waist, head resting against his left shoulder.

Bucky watches, teeth clenched then swallowing thickly; a feigned smile on his own lips.

“Hello Dolores, nice to see you out and about.” He greets.

Rumlow can see the displeasure and it fuels his ego, tucking away his flask, he pulls Dot close, kissing her right in front of Bucky. His metal arm forms a fist, Bucky can taste the blood from where he bit into his cheek. It is as if Rumlow begs for another punch.

Bucky takes a calming inhale then another while averting his gaze, Loki tsks from next to him.

“Come on, idiots just want attention.” He murmurs, taking Bucky away, leading him to the elevators. The stand listening to the music as they wait.

“Have you read the reviews? Stellar job my friend.” Loki commends, Bucky grins sheepish.

“Worked really hard for this, Lokes.” Bucky smiles as he reads the praise coming in, not only for himself but his cast mates and the storyline, people were even seeing the themed parallels.

“Your hard work is seen Bucky. I’m immensely proud of you.” He adds.

When the doors slide open, Bucky presses the button for the roof. The soft music continues, Loki taps his foot to the rhythm.

“What is the story about?” Bucky ponders as they prop the roof door open and have it remain open with their shoes and folded jackets.

Loki gives him a knowing smile, “Curious are we? That seems to be Alpine’s job.”

Bucky shrugs, not giving a verbal answer. He smiles at the mention of Alpine.

“She’s written Rhys Bass without his right arm, I believe that was done to further have the similarity removed. He’s well rounded and fleshed out, learns to live his life without a prosthesis or bionic arm.” Loki and Bucky stare at the black and gold metal as he flexes his fingers.

“He nicknames her, Doll.” His best friend adds on, knowing Bucky hadn’t found anyone yet worthy of that nickname. Dolores was a messy relationship from the get go in his own opinion. When Bucky called Dolores, Doll even thought it was only once, Loki wanted to scream into the void and maybe swat Bucky’s head. Definitely swat Bucky’s head.

He hums in response, mind trying to separate his experiences from the book’s past version.

“What else?” Bucky murmurs almost wondering what took place in the story.

“He finds a niche for himself, a girl, who sees him as him even though he is an amputee. As if he’s not an incomplete man as he thinks. He was in quite a dark place, so I should warn you.” Loki answers the question on his mind, “They have to strive hard for things to work out, it isn’t happy go lucky or an easy, breezy, cheesy romance by any means.”

Bucky gives a humourless laugh, grip tightening on the railing, “When is a love story ever easy?”

Present.

You’re on the floor staring at the ceiling, the cursor stays blinking on the blank document. Well not technically blank, you’ve written two words— chapter one.

That earned you your well deserved, break on the carpeted floor. It’s annoying— writers block on top of all the other things going on, distantly you can hear your dad screaming away on the phone to his office employees as he prepares to leave for the day.

You sigh, closing your eyes. The door knob turns you remain on the floor.

“Are you sleeping?” He questions, you look at your father.

“No, I just needed a break.” You admit, his eyes narrow and you know you did the heart to heart at a wrong time.

“A break? Are you even doing work? A break is for those who constructively do something or contribute. Fuck, Y/N are you seriously saying you’re working and deserve a break? Have you seen the pile of bills? Especially your mothers?” He bellows.

You purse your lips, there is a ding from your laptop indicating an email.

“Do something constructive, not like you’re going to retain that advance or have this movie even hit the big screens.” Your dad sneers, slamming the door shut.

You hear the garage door open after a few moments, his car pulls out and he’s gone. A silence overtakes the house. A welcomed one, but it is on a schedule.

Picking yourself up, you go to check on your mother, she sleeps. You place the little call bell near her hand. Leaving her door slightly ajar and your own, the blank document still sits there so you open your email.

From: JBB

Subject: Meeting to Discuss ITIMYIMDO

Bucky stares at the drafted email. Sam had been curious when he read the location. It wasn’t often Bucky took unknown people to that restaurant. Opting to only go there with close confidants or his most serious of girlfriends which was scarce and seldom done.

He wonders it you would even agree. Despite never meeting he had formulated public opinions on your book despite his words being twisted when presented to you, you never once said anything untoward about him and even had put up a post across socials when his fans came for your throat about the launch date coinciding with the release of I, Tonya.

Bucky stares at the message one last time before sending it.

To Y/N,

I’d like to meet with you before all of the official meetings begin at SP-HQ. I understand if you may be uncomfortable, if you’d like I could also have Sam and Yelena arrange something at one of their offices.

Do let me know if the date works for you.

I look forward to our meeting.

- James Barnes.

“I thought you don’t take just anyone there.” Sam quips, a stack of scripts and advertisement options scattered for them to choose.

“Well she doesn’t know what it means and I find it comforting to hold a conversation there.” Bucky shrugs, his eyes widen comically at the endorsement being offered for a product.

“Sam, why are they offering—,”

“No, um that product is a penis pump. One role you do with a talking penis and…” Sam shudders.

Bucky sets the page aside, his eyes don’t stray towards the mirror at the side.

“How are you feeling today?” Sam diverts handing a cologne for Armani advert script. Bucky looks over and keeps it in the maybe pile.

“Okay-ish, diet changed again we’re back on a gain muscle programme.” Bucky shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter.

“Buck.” Sam’s worry evident in that one word.

“I’m avoiding mirrors. And no don’t look at me that way, I just, I,” Bucky takes a deep breath the phone chimes.

He wants to thank his stars when its a way out of the conversation. His thumb hovers over your response.

“She replied?” Sam questions, he nods, “Open it?”

“You read it,” Bucky hands the phone to him.

“Why? You read it you invited her, and you don’t want the paps involved here, correct? This is a low-key meeting.” He confirms, Bucky nods.

“Never, never ever send anyone there.” Bucky reminds Sam, tapping the email.

To Mr. Barnes,

Thank you for your email, and for your consideration of my comfort level. The date and location both work, please let me know the reservation details.

I look forward to our meeting as well.

Best Regards,

Y/N Y/L/N.

A breath of relief escapes Bucky, he wants to clear the air and understand why you picked him to write about, the copy Sam gave him of your book is full of little post its and annotations written upon transparent post it notes.

Much to his surprise he couldn’t put it down, each chapter brought out so much more than he expected. The way you wrote Rhys, the way you did not dismiss him or give him an easy way out.

Loki was right two years ago, it wasn’t a cheesy all happy, fluffy romance. Which is why Bucky went ahead and ordered the other two books authored by you.

“Well then, seems like you have a date.” Sam teases.

“This isn’t a date.” Bucky rolls his eyes at him.

“Sure, sure and I definitely did not find you curled up with the book nor did I see your local indie bookstore’s shipping email with her other books.” He gives Bucky a knowing look.

“Sam.” He warns, “Do not, Loki already gave me shit for this.”

“Well Loki is your best friend.” Sam shrugs, “He’s onto something.”

“Why is it that any woman, who I am seen with am I shipped with?” The actor runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he looks away catching the skin of his abdomen in the mirror.

Sam shifts, blocking Bucky’s view by sitting on the wooden table.

“It isn't about shipping you, I think she is a lovely person. Unlike your previous questionable choices or the certain PR done stunts.” Sam diverts the issue again.

“Those PR ones are on your firm.” Bucky raises a finger, they stare at each other.

“Well at least they were slightly better individuals than your well…” Sam trails off.

“I know, I’ve learned from what took place with Dolores.” Bucky picks at a piece of lint on his jeans.

“Look the past is just that the past, don’t let it hold you back or damage your present or future.” Sam offers.

“When did you become this wise?” Bucky teases, eyes shifting to the email again. He did want to get to know you for you, not based upon hearsay.

He only hoped you had the same sentiments.

Two Years Ago.

HEADLINES:

Brock Rumlow Kisses Dolores At Premiere of Her Movie, While James Barnes Looks Glum.

James Barnes and Loki Laufeyson Set Fire To The Dance Floor At The Afterparty! Pictures Here!

Loki Laufeyson Shares Video From His Bedroom, James Barnes Is All Smiles While Cuddling his Best Friend.

Author Y/N Y/L/N’s next Release Pushed Back.

James Barnes Spotted With A Mystery Blonde.

Literary Festival Snubs Author, One Hit Wonder, Critics Rip The Pages Apart. Y/N Takes Social Media Hiatus As Bucky Barnes Fans Send Hate After His Response on Red Carpet.

James Barnes Sought After For Big Roles, Following Stellar Performance, Is He The Next DiCaprio?

Spotted James Barnes and Mystery Brunette, They Have Been On Several Dates Says Source Close To Actor.

A.N.: oooooooooooh who is excited for them to meet properly? i know i am! i hope your weekend goes great also i want to do another follower milestone celebration, i was thinking kinktober? let me know please i'll tag my previous celebration here so you know what i've written prior (mix of fluff, angst, smut)

Taglist is Open comment or DM to be added!

Taglist: @stevesmewmew @elle14-blog1 @crazyunsexycool @sebsgirl71479 @pandaxnienke @slutforsexyseabass @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @pandaxnienke

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counting-eyerolls · 6 months

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it's so sad to see the whole laura scarborough situation because it's been all over my feeds and dashes and seeing her video on instagram now is just heartbreaking.

i've seen so many posts on twitter where people straight up criticized and bullied and insulted her and it was 1. insane to see all the people who were so in love with her and supporting her just turn like that and 2. just disgusting to see how hate gets spread around so easily because people have this inherent need to criticize and share hate and negative opinions. and that affects everyone. literally everyone. the artist and their supporters and literally everyone who comes into contact with those posts because you intentionally or unintentionally (depending of course on the nature of your post) influence those who have not shared their opinions on the matter yet.

yes, she used ai. yes, ai is harmful for artists. yes, it's not the best thing she could have done and her initial replies from that fucking interview didn't help her situation much. but that's no excuse for bullying and the behaviour i've seen all over twitter during the last few days. and it's not just specific to this situation, i see it all the time (which is why i've come to hate being on twitter because it's so full of discourse that people just start out of boredom and it shows up on my feed even though i don't follow them).

no one is saying you have to agree. no one is saying you have to like it or support or anything of the sort. but sending hate to the artist just because you disagree with them is such a shitty thing to do. constructive criticism is a thing, you know? you don't have to bring someone to such a bad emotional state that they have to take their art down or, worse, feel horrible about the art that they made. not all art is for everyone. not everybody will share the same tastes or appreciation. but respect for someone's work is rightfully owed. or at least basic decency aka not being an ass about it.

i'm aware ai is very harmful towards artists and it sucks from an artist's pov. but if you really want to advocate for a cause and teach others that using ai might not be the best thing they could do, you don't have to be rude about. you can be civil and respectful and not post on your little ghost twt page where all i see are videos of the ghouls on stage and then you come at me with comments and rude captions like "girl, please stop" and "omg so disappointed, even insert random unmasked nameless ghoul here liked her post". what comes out of that? what do you achieve by spreading these posts and just adding fire to the fuse? wouldn't it be better and more helpful to try and make people aware of how ai is harmful and teach them if they don't know about it? or to wait and see if the artist is really so clueless and doesn't give a shit or if maybe things were misinterpreted?

so much hate and so many comments but you don't take a step back and think of how your actions affect others. because what? 'what is a twitter post gonna do?' well, a lot apparently.

and this goes for more situations, not just this specific one.

just, idk, i'm so sick of just hate and disrespect as the initial and instinctive reaction to something you don't agree with.

#count rambles :3 #laura scarborough #unmasked ghouls #ramble #i also don't understand the need to be so vocal and involved in these people's personal lives. which is a different topic but it amazes me #how little respect people have for their privacy and how people feel a need to post about them and tag them and unfortunately sexualize the #and straight up have no respect whatsoever for them as human beings #just agh tell me if you disagree but sometimes it gets too much for me personally

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2bu · 7 months

Note

Hate hunt and heartbreak for Pacifica?? Hope they apply!

ough... ciffy!!! let's see if i can answer them using her : D

Putting under the cut because i began to rant LMAO

oc asks - not-so-nice edition | send asks here!!!

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Pacifica above all, hates liars? It's not so much an object she hates, but moreso... people. Pacifica had a traumatic childhood - her birth mother died shortly after having had her, her other parent abandoned her at her aunts' doorstep, and she suffered abuse/bullying (at school, not in her home). Pacifica is someone who has always been rather outspoken, and very blunt, very guarded. She prefers and values the truth, and is clear about who she is and what she's about, within reason. She doesn't like deception, especially from people she's supposed to trust and love. She's been lied to before, many times over, and arguably, up until recent, and she's very, very tired of it. With those she's deemed as untrustworthy, she actively avoids or acts completely cold towards them.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

Pacifica, by nature, is always alert. She's mostly always on the lookout for her parent, who tried to kill her when she was a teenager. Pacifica can let her guard down, and definitely has tried to relax over the years since then, but is often still tense, as if waiting for her mother to return (she won't, she's currently being held prisoner in another realm for her crimes across multiple realms and galaxies).

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

...Yeah. Pacifica has two exes, one named Sunshine, and the other, I won't name or discuss TOO much about them solely because I am no longer in contact with the person who owns her other ex. All I will say about that particular ex is: they were together for a few years and were pretty much high school sweethearts, but ended things mutually for undetermined reasons (in meta we felt best to end their relationship earlier this year). Pacifica loved them and really wanted to get married to them one day, but it wasn't going to work out for several reasons. That's the way it goes - not everything is meant to be, or works out for many reasons! She's moving on, slowly, as painful as the breakup was for her. She DOES have underlying feelings about it, of course, but it's not something I want to discuss.

However... somehow, that brings us to Sunshine, who was Pacifica's first partner, like, ever. It's complicated - Pacifica and Sunshine were together before Pacifica came out as transfemme, but Pacifica had run away after a breakdown and tried to commit suicide, but was saved and transported to another realm. She didn't know how to get back, but was taken in by her now best friend, transitioned and got into a school... and she did find out how to go back, but never did due to fear. Feared missing, or worse, dead, her family, friends, and Sunshine looked for her. It wasn't until Sunshine herself moved to the same realm did she find Pacifica there - a completely new person, moved on, and somehow acting as if they hadn't dated at all. Sunshine was really upset and hurt by this, rightfully so - and would always antagonize Pacifica.

During a confrontation, Sunshine actually took the conversation seriously, told Pacifica that she was shitty for doing what she did to her, and moving on without even trying to contact her, even if it was to break up. She cut ties with Pacifica and moved back to their shared home realm afterwards for a few years.

Only recently have they begun to speak again and try to make amends - Pacifica reached out and apologized, and to Sunshine's surprise... asked for her help. Pacifica asked for help to accommodate her husband, Data, who is Jewish and practicing. She knew Sunshine is also Jewish, and felt she was the best person to ask. Seeing that Pacifica had really grown up, taken accountability, and sought HER out for help convinced Sunshine to give her another chance, at least as a friend. Though it ended for them really badly when they were teenagers, it's safe to say they're on mutual, friendly-ish terms again.

#1983idol #tysm for sending this ask in!!!#pacifica #sunshine #ducky answers #child abuse mention tw #bullying mention tw #suicide mention tw

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keepthetension · 7 months

Text

what fascinates me about the idea of boston being in love with top is if they'd done this in the show, it would have started with boston being hurt by top not reciprocating his feelings the way he wants, and ended with nick being hurt by boston not reciprocating his feelings the way he wants (technically atom as well but fuck that guy)

which sent my brain pinballing around trying to figure out how all of them could cause hurt in the same way they were hurt. and some of that did happen in the show, but i was enjoying thinking about what i'd write in to spread it around and make it worse!

top hurts boeing by dumping him -- mew hurts top by dumping him

but then, let's say mew copes with the heartbreak by launching himself right into a rebound with ray, convincing himself it's true love this time, and trying to get the relationship of his dreams! except he's extra paranoid, clingy, and controlling. ray realizes the reality of this is not the thing he built it up to be in his head. and also a wild sand appeared earlier in the game so… what do?

an infidelity, of course!

and if mew had really leaned into triggering top's trauma by setting the entire sketchbook ablaze in front of his face?

mew sends top's mental health spiraling by worsening old wounds -- ray sends mew's mental health spiraling by being less and less attentive and present in the relationship, worsening old wounds around feeling insecure

top hurts sand by stealing boeing -- sand hurts mew by stealing ray

and what if sand finds a decent job, and the bulk of his money worries are over! what better way to celebrate than to have a nice romantic fuck on the balcony <3

except doubly heartbroken mew is in his revenge era now, and so

sand hurts top and boston by distributing a recording of them -- mew hurts sand by distributing a recording of him online

the company he's supposed to start working for is pretty conservative. and it's a customer facing job! they can't hire the guy the entire internet is talking about because of the [insert awful nasty freaky no-good kink here]

and maybe sand dumps ray about it. because he's hurting and angry and it was such a great opportunity but now he's back to square one all because ray couldn't clean up his mess properly!

ray hurts sand by calling him a whore -- everybody hurts ray by calling him a whore (everyone knows ray's with mew! their ig is plastered with photos of them doing cute couple shit!) once his sex tape starts doing the rounds online (specifically, i'm imagining ray's father's business being hurt the scandal, and ray's dad calling him this out of anger)

ray hurts mew and severely worsens his mental health by dumping him -- sand hurts ray and severely worsens his mental health by dumping him

can't figure out how to shoehorn this into that particular cause and effect line but:

nick hurts boston by secretly recording him -- someone hurts nick by secretly recording him and daddy dan doing an hr violation (for blackmail? to get him fired? possibilities are endless!)

atom hurts boston with false accusations because he's heartbroken that boston doesn't lurve him -- atom has a one night stand with a guy from his university who hits atom with false accusations because he's heartbroken that atom doesn't lurve him (bonus: atom is a social pariah now, because fuck that guy <3)

boston hurts mew by fucking his man -- atom's having a go at a serious relationship with some dude, and i-do-drugs-and-party-now mew picks him up and fucks him (and cheum kicks mew to the curb for breaking "friend code")

do i think this would have been a fun show to watch? fuck no. it sounds exhausting lol. and i wasn't trying to write it this way, but in the end, the friendships and relationships all explode. oops. the aroace hermit part of my brain won, i guess~

anyway, i'm just fascinated by the idea of hurting people the way you were hurt, doing the shitty things you were mad were done to you but not caring or noticing, or even thinking you're justified in doing the shitty thing because someone hurt you first, so why shouldn't you hurt them back, and how incredibly normal and human it is to do all of this

#only friends the series #anyway i'm just a little guy with a little imagination #and i'm sure there are many delicious-er ways for this kind of thing to play out #so let me know what you think of!

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haeva · 1 year

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Hey, love. I know it's been awhile.

Winter is still here, though a little less magical. The depth of this midwinter strenches further than the cold, brittle ground, and into the sunken valleys of my heart. The sun shines a little more today, there are no clouds. I feel her warmth touch my heart, I think I am awaking from this season.

I sit at the table my friend and I used to always go to when we talked over coffee in this little cafe. Now life has pulled us both apart since October, although it hasn't felt that long. I choose this seat anyway, any other table feels wrong.

It is hard to believe I have friends old enough to date, yet alone getting married and having children. I tell people I don't want to date and that I want to focus on work and studies, but that's not entirely the truth. It feels cliche to say, like I'm a protagonist in a romance movie waiting for her future lover to bump into her at the cafe and say hello, that I am waiting for the right partner.

I never had young love, a budding romance that fills the heart with ecstatic joy and the mind running endless possibilities. That part was only in my head. I had young heartbreak, the kind that settles into your heart and the scars of which still are sore once in a while. Even after 3 years.

I wanted to send this to you on your birthday, so here is a belated birthday gift. You can add more songs or remove any you don't like :)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0K5SUVoHSSd60rDYAQ583f?si=cNRz-5LjR8GfL2zI566W6Q&pt=f0b670232e49d1b2e7b569b5f3eb9e1d

-vampire anon

Hiii omg you don't know how much better you just made my shitty day with your message!!!

I feel this so much, I never experienced a young love either and sometimes I feel like it just alienates me from everyone else. Even fron other people that haven't had a romance, since at my age it's usually a choice, but it isn't for me. I've never had my heart broken though, so I don't know how that feels.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PLAYLIST!!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! 😭💖💖💖

#vampire anon

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 23 - Haunted Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Coming home can cause issues.

Series Masterlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

You flipped the knife in your hand as the guy tied to the chair glared at you.

“You know,” you trailed off, “I’ve had a really shitty couple of months, Johnny- can I call you Johnny?”

“No.”

“Rude,” you commented, “Fine. John. I’ve had a really shitty couple of months so you really don’t want to try me right now. Just tell me where I can find your boss.”

“You’ll never find him you stupid bitch.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Since I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes I feel like I can share some things with you,” you said, “My best friend says I keep everything bottled and I should talk about my feelings.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“See, that’s exactly how I feel!” you pointed at him, “Thank you. I mean, I feel angry at myself. I kind of fucked up with the man I love.”

“Jesus Christ, just kill me already.”

“I’m waiting for a text to do that Johnny,” you pointed out, waving your phone at him. “So, I tricked him and used him and threw him to wolves. And then Accords 2.0 didn’t pass and he has been pardoned once again, and he’s a free man now. I have a strong feeling that he’s not the ‘forgive and forget’ type of guy. You know, assassin to assassin.”

“You’re the chattiest assassin I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, I’m trying to improve myself,” you said, “I mean what exactly should I do? I don’t even trust my agency at this point, my handler lied to me and I have been at this fucking place for six months now, hunting you down. Well, your boss but…”

“You’ll never find him.”

“We’ll see about that my friend,” you said, “So anyway, like what am I supposed to do? I lost the one guy I actually loved. How do you cope with that? Because drinking doesn’t work, sleeping with others doesn’t work…. Nothing seems to—“ you were cut off when your phone vibrated and you touched the screen to open the text message.

From: Julian

Go for it.

“Wait, no no no, I’ll talk—“

“Kind of too late,” you pointed the gun at him, “Nice to meet you Johnny.”

With that you pulled the trigger, silencer doing its job as there was no loud bang or anything. His body fell back with the impact, and you heaved a sigh.

“Maybe I need a therapist I can’t kill,” you mumbled and walked out of the warehouse to approach the car before opening the door to the passenger seat to get in.

“Is it done?” Julian asked and you nodded, rubbing at your eyes.

“Yep.”

“Are you hungry?”

You made a face, “Just because the General sent you here does not mean we’re going to become buddies.”

“I’m not trying to become buddies with you,” Julian stated, “I just want to eat fries and there’s a two for one deal.”

You eyed him up and down.

“Fine, I could eat fries.” You leaned back in the seat as he started driving, keeping your eyes on the road. Soon enough, you reached the city center and Julian got fries from a food truck, then sat across from you.

“So,” he said, “You do realize this whole thing would’ve been over by now if we actually worked together?”

“I’m not going on the field with you.”

“The General sent me here to help you.”

You dipped the fry into sauce, then popped it into your mouth, “You can help me by pretending you’re not here.”

“Y/N.”

“You know what they say Julian. Fool me once…”

“Don’t tell me you’re still holding that grudge.”

“You mean when you left me behind to die on the last mission we were together?” you asked back, “That grudge?”

“I told you—“

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” you cut him off, “And I work better alone. Who told you we could waste the guy by the way?”

“The General.”

You grabbed the salt shaker to pour some salt on the fries, causing Julian to make a face.

“Are you kidding me? That was salty enough-“

“Why did he not text me?”

“No idea. Maybe he’s avoiding you because he promised you handler and here you are. Field spy.”

Your jaw clenched.

Or maybe he’s avoiding me because he fucking lied to me.

You had to give it to him, it was the perfect plan. The moment he had suspected you were getting too close to Bucky, he had come up with the one thing he knew that would make you switch sides.

And that-

That was below the belt yes, but that was also masterly.

But at the end of the day, you barely had two people to trust in the entire world, and you seriously doubted you could ever forgive the General for what he had done. You knew he held duty above all, above family and surely above you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You shook your head at yourself and grabbed another piece of fry.

“So um…” Julian shifted his weight, “Are you okay?”

You shot him a glare, arching a brow, “Peachy.”

“No I mean… About Barnes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This whole Accords 2.0 failure, there’s no way we could go after him again.”

“I don’t want to go after him again.”

“You don’t want revenge?”

That made you straighten up your back and you put the fry down, “And why exactly would I want revenge?”

That made Julian fall silent and you nibbled on your lip.

“What exactly did the General tell you before you came here?”

“That there was a job here.”

“Bullshit,” you replied way too quickly, “Did he send you here to be my babysitter? He thinks I’ll go after Barnes myself is that it? That’s why they sent you here months after I left the country but right after Accords 2.0 didn’t pass.”

Julian licked his lips.

“Listen, the agency wants to keep you safe—“ he started but then his phone beeped. He grabbed it to take aa look at the screen, then cussed under his breath.

“What?”

“Check your texts.”

You touched the screen and frowned as your eyes skimmed the text.

From: General

Time to come home.

“Well,” you muttered, your heart dropping to your stomach, “Shit.”

***

Coming back home was harder than ever now. After catching up with Keith and Chloe, you were taken to your new apartment that was given to you by the agency as usual, and for the whole night you couldn’t sleep.

Even if there was no trace of Bucky in your new apartment –in your new life, you still couldn’t shake off this feeling. It was as if the moment you had entered the country, Bucky had entered your life in an instant.

Odds were, you wouldn’t really see him again. After all it was a big city, and Bucky wasn’t exactly the social type.

So your first week back in New York wasn’t exactly terrible. You were still waiting for your orders while getting to know to the city slowly, because after long missions it always took time for you to remember you had a real life there, real memories—

Well, as real as it could be, for a spy.

“Just see it as a vacation,” Chloe had said, “They threw you into another mission as soon as you got out of the country, it’s just a delayed vacation.”

As far as vacations went though, this one just sucked.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t keep away from places you and Bucky had been too, like this coffee place where you had first officially met.

You sipped your coffee, scrolling down on the news website as your eyes skimmed yet another article about Accords and whether you could trust superheroes or not, but you were soon distracted when someone pulled the seat across from you, making you look up from your phone.

And as soon as you did, your heart dropped.

You had to give it to the General, he was manipulative, he was a liar and he had betrayed your trust terribly but the one thing he had done right was training you well. Aside from that one second, you managed to adapt a look of nonchalance on your face, slowly putting your phone down.

“Hello Cap.”

Sam raised his brows and eyed you up and down.

“You’re back?”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat and you shrugged your shoulders, looking around.

“Yeah,” you said, “Big apple and everything.”

“So much for the small town girl.”

“I have never been a small town girl,” you drawled, “Never been to Oregon either.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You turned your coffee cup on the table just so you could do something with your hands.

“Why?” he asked after a beat and you shifted your weight despite your whole training of feeling calm and collected, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere.

“You’re a veteran, Wilson,” you managed to say, “You don’t need me to tell you how the chain of command works. Army doesn’t care how we feel about orders.”

“I’m very familiar with how chain of command works,” he pointed out, “But you’re not a soldier, Y/N. You’re a spy.”

“That makes it even worse,” you stated, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but… you don’t know how my agency works. I don’t get to say no to orders, and I sure as hell don’t get to blow my own cover.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

Jesus Christ, Wilson was really good at this observation thing.

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” you said, “I’m no use to anyone if I develop a conscience.”

“But you did,” he insisted, “Why else would you come to help us? Why else would you warn him beforehand?”

“He told you about that?”

He shot you a look, “What do you think, Y/N?”

You scoffed a laughter. “I was feeling generous,” you said, “No other reason.”

He kept his gaze on you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you would cave before he took a deep breath.

“You know he was going to propose, right?”

That-

That was just too much. You could feel your jaw hanging as you stared at him in complete silence, his words echoing in your ears.

“No,” you said after a moment, then shook your head fervently, your nose in the air, “No you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Sam said, “Apparently he was looking for this… house painted in white with—a red door or something.”

Don’t cry.

Do not fucking cry.

Spies don’t cry over heartbreak.

You clenched your jaw and blinked back the tears, straightening your back.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t get to, then.”

“Y/N, he loved you.”

“No Sam, he loved someone who doesn’t exist,” you replied, “Sweet small town girl with sundresses and smiles and some house in the suburbs with kids and all that shit. Girls like me don’t get that ending, I have way too much blood on my hands.”

He pressed his lips together and you cleared your throat.

“How much does he hate me?”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“Assassins aren’t good at forgiving,” you said, “I would know, we don’t have that talent.”

“That’s not a talent, that’s a choice.”

“It really isn’t,” you muttered, “So?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah no. Actions have consequences and I’d rather not cross paths with the deadliest assassin in the world after double crossing him.”

“But you want him to forgive you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intuition,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand up.

“He didn’t kill your father, Y/N.”

You heaved a sigh.

“I know,” you said, “Trust me, I would’ve walked away so much easier if he had.”

“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and walked out of the coffee house. You threw your head back, closing your eyes.

“Yep. I shouldn’t have come back.”

***

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate that we’re not living so close anymore,” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear and opened the door to your apartment as Keith chuckled.

“I knew you’d miss me.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re a softie deep inside. Very very deep inside.”

“If you repeat that in front of anyone I swear to God…” you muttered and he groaned.

“Have I told you they’re putting me in the same team as Julian?”

“You guys have a new mission?”

“Not a long one probably.”

“Why the fuck am I—“

“Because you’re on a vacation,” he cut you off, “And also they’re probably going to make you a handler, that’s worth waiting for.”

“That or….”

“We’re not talking about that on the phone,” Keith said quickly, “Amateur.”

“Careful there, I’ll outrank you soon enough,” you said, walking to the bathroom to wash your hands. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, see you later!” he said and hung up. You put your phone into your pocket, then washed your hands and made your way to the kitchen.

It was only when you put the wine bottle back into the fridge that you noticed something was off. Your body moved on its own accord, before you knew it you had already grabbed the knife in your boots and threw it to the figure in the dark corner of the room but he easily caught it, metal hitting what sounded like another kind of metal before he stepped out of the corner. Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time in your life you froze, all the training leaving your mind.

You were supposed to be looking for a weapon, any kind of weapon but somehow, your body refused to move.

Bucky turned your knife in his hands, his gaze pinning you to your spot before he tilted his head.

“Hi honey,” he said, his voice way too cold. “I’m home.”

Chapter 24

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagines

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

[16.14] hongjoong × roadie!reader × yunho

⇀ you've always admired him, and after being given the chance to work for him, you couldn't help but fall for him. But to him, you're just his groupie.

⇁ tw : joong's an ungrateful jerk 🙃

You stood by the side of the stage, eyes dreamy watching Hongjoong performed his latest song so beautifully. He looked ethereal on stage; the spotlight on him, his expression, the emotion he brought out. To be able to see him perform in person is a whole out of this world experience. Even after a year of being his roadie, you never once felt like it was a waste of time.

Without you realizing, he finished his performance and walked off backstage after waving to his fans.

As he walked to you, you couldn't help but jump excitedly and clap for him.

"Oh my god, Hongjoong! That's amazing !!" you exclaimed loudly to him. You had a wide grin on your face as you handed out his water bottle and towel.

The initial genuine smile that Hongjoong shot to his fans changed immediately as he came face to face with you. He raised an eyebrow and just scoffed, "of course you'd think that's amazing," he muttered, snatching the items from your hands rather harshly. The staff around watched with pity, while idols and celebrities tend to treat staff in a shitty manner because they're not close, it was particularly harsh for an idol to treat the person who willingly follows him around like a lovesick puppy so badly, like they're nothing but a nuisance. And it was particularly heartbreaking to see even through the abuse Hongjoong gave you, you still look at him with much love and adoration.

As Hongjoong took a sip from his bottle, he grimaced. He looked at the bottle before he shot you a displeased look, "this is not the brand I usually drink," he stated.

You blinked in confusion initially, "what?" you asked, not quite sure. Hongjoong groaned in annoyance at you, "this is not the bottled water brand I usually drink, do you want me to lose my vocal abilities that you claimed you love so much?" he scowled.

Realizing he was being serious, you stuttered, "I-I'm sorry, I tried looking for that brand from the vending machine and the cafeteria here but they don't sell it," you explained.

Hongjoong took a step closer to you, he was so close that you could count his eyelashes. The proximity made you blush furiously, nervous as the position seemed very intimate.

"If you can't even go out to look for the things I specifically asked you to do, drop out of being my roadie because I can find your replacement in two seconds if I want to," he growled out lowly. He proceeded to push the water bottle into your chest harshly, sending you hurtling backwards and hitting the wall behind you.

You chuckled to no one as he walked off, "I'm sorry, Hongjoong! It won't happen again!" you called out pathetically.

Tears threatened to drop from your eyes as your head had just bumped into the wall rather harshly. But you couldn't cry then and there. You knew that if you cried, people would talk badly about Hongjoong. He already had his own share of stress, you can't add more to it. So you just gripped onto the part of your head that was pounding from impact pain, silently hoping it'd go away soon.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice called out.

You looked up to see one of the rising idols leaning close to you, he had a worried look on his face. You immediately recognized him as Jung Yunho, the idol who is very esteemed for his performance abilities. He was scheduled to perform on the same stage as Hongjoong today and he had performed two stages before Hongjoong but you didn't think you'd be able to see him.

Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed at the sore spot, "Y-yeah I'm okay, I'm such a klutz tripping over my own feet like that," you chuckled.

Though you tried lying, Yunho saw the whole thing unfold from not too far, he caught the interaction between you and Hongjoong. He didn't know how Hongjoong was able to treat someone so badly.

But, seeing how hard you were trying to cover it up, he decided to just spare you and play along. Yunho shot you a gentle smile, "if you're that clumsy, then maybe you should have someone be with you always," he teased.

You look up at him and blushed slightly. You bit on your bottom lip in embarrassment but also out of shyness.

"You're Hongjoong's roadie, right?" he asked, tilting his head to the side rather adorably. You nod at him in confirmation, rather eagerly than you intended. But you were just happy that someone noticed that you were a part of Hongjoong's entourage.

Just as you were about to verbally confirm him, Hongjoong reappeared, grabbing onto your arm rather harshly.

"What are you still here for? I was waiting for you to- oh, hey Yunho," he greeted as he noticed Yunho stood in front of you. Yunho smiled at the older guy. To regular people, it might seem just like a regular smile but to those who know him well, that smile spoke of how Yunho is apprehensive of Hongjoong and how he doesn't seem to like the guy so much.

"Hi, hyung, long time no see," the younger said to which the older just shrugged, "our schedules never seem to match," he simply stated.

Yunho's eyes darted to Hongjoong's hand that was still on your arm. That seemed to make Hongjoong realized what he has been doing so he immediately let go, much to your disappointment.

"Well, I gotta go now, I have to go back to the company to finish up my next project," Hongjoong excused, You know very well that he has no new project lined up which means that Hongjoong was feeling rather uncomfortable and maybe even threatened.

Luckily, Yunho just shrugged at him, "yeah, sure, see you around, hyung," he then shifted his gaze to you, shooting you a blush-inducing charming smile, "and I'll see you soon, (Y/N)," he smiled widely at you.

You smiled back to him and nod, "yeah, see you soon, Yunho,"

From behind you, you could hear Hongjoong scoffed loudly before he simply walked away without saying anything else.

When you realized he had left without you, you immediately rushed to catch up with him.

Back at his waiting room, staff were packing things and you helped around, making sure things are in order and nothing gets left behind. Halfway through the packing, you realized that Hongjoong was actively ignoring you. Sure, he usually does that anyways but he'd throw comments here and there and even make you stop what you were doing to get him something or do something for him. You couldn't deny that there was this uncomfortable, tingling feeling that lingers. But for now, you ignored it and got back to doing what you had been doing.

Once everything was packed and loaded onto the car, you silently walked behind Hongjoong and his manager who was discussing his schedule. You weren't paying attention as it doesn't really concern you particularly anyways.

But you suddenly felt like you had bumped into someone. When you looked up, you realized that Hongjoong had stopped mid-way before he turned to look at you.

"I think I left my AirPods backstage, could you please help me find it?" he asked with a blank expression on his face.

Without even hesitating, you eagerly nodded and shot him a smile, "Yeah, sure! No problem!" you said before running off back to where you had just been.

Due to the large building, it took you quite some time to reach backstage and it took you 20 minutes to look for Hongjoong's AirPods. Some of the staff around were helping you look for it but they weren't able to find what you were looking for.

Dejected, you walked back towards the parking lot where you knew Hongjoong's van was parked.

But when you arrived, you saw that the reserved parking spot where Hongjoong's van was parked was empty. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you were pretty sure that this was where it was parked, the spot still had a sign with Hongjoong's name on it.

You reached into your pocket to dial his manager, knowing that when in the car, Hongjoong is more likely than not to be asleep since he usually spend his nights writing masterpieces.

The manager thankfully picked up at the third ring, "Hello?" he called, "h-hey, it's me! Where are you guys? I'm at the parking lot and the van's not here?" you asked him. "Us? We're already on the way back to Hongjoong's apartment, why?" his words made you felt like your stomach just dropped. "W-what? Y-you left me here?" you asked in disbelief, "left you? We didn't, Hongjoong said an idol invited you to hang with him and that you were going, Yunho was it?" he asked back.

Right at that moment, you felt like you wanted to cry for the second time that day. Though it was evident that Hongjoong was punishing you, you convinced yourself that he was just joking and that he wanted to prank you. You convinced yourself that Hongjoong didn't mean for what he did.

Thanking the manager, you quickly hung up and walked back inside to exit through the main lobby.

As you walked dejectedly to the main lobby, you felt someone tapping on your shoulder and to your surprise, it was Yunho again.

"Hey! You're still here? I thought you had left a while ago," he asked. You took notice of his tendency to tilt his head to the side when asking a question. You laughed sheepishly at him, "uhh, yeah, I-I- uhm, I left something behind so I told Hongjoong to leave without me," you said. After you said that, you realized how ridiculous it sounded and how people could tell it was a lie from miles away.

But even if Yunho realized your obvious lie, he said nothing. He kept a gentle smile on his face and nodded towards the main door, "you know, it's kinda nearing dinner time, and I'm quite hungry. There's this little small restaurant nearby, the owner knows me well so we're gonna get some pretty good discount for our meal, what do you say?"

Just as Yunho finished his sentence, your phone rang and when you looked at the caller, you were quite surprised to see that Hongjoong was the one who called you.

You excused yourself to Yunho to take the call, but you didn't move to the side to answer it. When you picked up, you heard Hongjoong sighed on the other line, "you still need to be picked up? We can turn around if you want," despite his offer, his voice sounded begrudging as if he was forced to say that.

Nevertheless, your heart skipped a beat at his offer, thinking that maybe he does care. But when you looked up and see Yunho's genuine and gentle eyes, your breath caught in your throat and for the first time ever, you seemed to realize just how different Yunho treated you compared to Hongjoong.

While you were the one who chose to be his roadie, a glorified unpaid staff, he never treated you as to how you deserve to be treated. Meanwhile, Yunho, who had only known you for probably 10 minutes, treated you better than Hongjoong ever could.

"Hello? Just say if you want to or not before we're too far from where you're at," he sighed in annoyance. A small smile broke on your face after the epiphany you just got.

"Sorry, Hongjoong, you don't have to turn around to get me," "Really? My manager said it's still possible to turn around," he said. The use of 'my manager said' confirmed that he didn't really care about you. And maybe you should start caring about him less.

"Yeah, no, I'm going out to eat with Yunho," you told him simply. Before he could respond, however, you had hung up and shove your phone deep into your bag. You beamed up at Yunho and nodded your head towards the door, "so? Are we gonna eat or not?"

Yunho smiled brightly at you and nodded very much eagerly, "Yes! You're not gonna regret this!" he exclaimed happily.

Yeah, deep down you know you weren't going to regret your choice.

146 notes · View notes

luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Sunrise

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, angst with a happy end, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 9.5K

☼ Warnings: 18+, accusations of cheating, poor communication, some arguments (the relationship at the end can be seen as turning toxic as communication breaks down, so be aware if you think that may now work for you or just need to be prepared), heartbreak, non-explicit description of panic attack, moments of emotional shut down

Smut warnings: teasing, soft sex, nipple play, body worship, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (stay safe pls!), dirty talk, exhibitionism, bratty reader, rough sex, manhandling, bruising

☼ Summary: It’s been well over 10 years since you and Seokjin broke up. You’ve been doing fine. Until one night a dream rocks you to the core and you find yourself in a place from the past. Have you really moved on?

Has he?

☼ Newly added epilogue: Moonlight

☼ a/n: This is told both in the present and past, the flashbacks are in italics! The flashbacks also aren’t in order, but I believe they’re pretty easy to follow when they would fall chronologically.

Inspired by the 2000s emo playlist I listened to as work (especially Jamie All Over by Mayday Parade) Sorry if the tags seem a little scary, I’d rather overtag than have someone get blindsided while reading. But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

The cool breeze washes over you, bathing you in the salty ocean air. It seems you found the perfect time to come out here. The light jacket you wore more than enough to keep you warm on such an unexpected trip. The sky is slowly being painted in pinks and purples and oranges as the sun slowly starts to sink into the horizon, small wisps of fluffy, white clouds occasionally obscuring the sunlight. You’ve always loved seeing the sunset out here. The colors reflecting off the ocean and leaving everchanging patterns before you. You’ve based plenty of designs on sunsets.

The dress you wore to your first fashion week is still your favorite. The penultimate meeting of sunset and night sky. The outside was ombre layers of soft chiffon, shades of oranges and pinks and small bands of light purples. It pooled around your feet, you liked to think it made it seem like you had risen from the waters of a sunset reflection. The halter bodice wrapped around your neck in a shimmery, golden band. Hanging from the choker were thin golden chains, draped and connected to a golden belt at your waist.

For all appearances, it appeared like just a sunset colored dress. But when you walked, or pulled the fabric apart at the slit in the front, it revealed a glittering deep purple fabric, speckled like a swirling galaxy. It had been the ultimate combination of the theme of yours and Hoseok’s collection, sun and moon. The dress still hangs in your closet, one of the few extravagant pieces you’ve held on too. You want to wear it again, you just have to find an occasion to do so. The dress deserves it.

The scene before you specifically was what inspired it. Maybe not this spot specifically. There were a lot of memories tied to this spot that you tried not to think about typically. But you’ve always loved visiting the beach. Or lakes. Anywhere you could go and watch the sun sink into the water. Watch an uninterrupted sky blend colorfully with the water.

You can’t believe you’re back here though. It’s been easily more than 10 years since the last time you were at this beach, which is a drastic change from back then from when you came here all the time. Taking a seat on the bench beside you, you smile, a little sadly, as your fingers trace over the heart carved into the wood, weathered from years in the elements and use. But the letters are still clear enough and you skip over your initials, letting your fingertips trace the ‘ksj’ as you think on when they were put there.

The smile on his face is bright, as bright as the glint of sunlight off the small pocket knife in his hand.

Your combined giggles fill the fresh spring air, the beach fairly deserted since you skipped your last two periods of school to come here. You hadn’t put up much of a fight when he made the suggestion during lunch. Your grades are good enough and it’s the last weeks of high school, you can miss a few class periods to have some fun, to spend some time together before university. Just in case you don’t get into the same one.

The scratch of the blade against the wood is softer than you expect, a gentle scratch, scratch, scratch as he meticulously and carefully carves your names into the wood. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and you fight the urge to coo at how cute he is. Doubling down on keeping quiet when you know doing so would also result in him being overly macho to prove he wasn’t cute. Not because he doesn’t believe he’s cute or anything, but he knows how much the faux display makes you laugh. You don’t want to interrupt his work when this seems so important to him.

Finally he looks up from his work, proudly gesturing to the carving on the bench.

“That’s so cheesy.”

With an exaggerated pout, he gives you the saddest eyes he can muster. “I worked so hard on this for you. As a testament to our love!”

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his jutted lower lip. “Well, I didn’t know it was so serious. My apologies.”

A few more kisses and he’d promptly forgiven you and the two of you had spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach, taking blurry pictures on your flip phones. You’re positive that a printed version of one of those photos still lives in a box somewhere, where you didn’t have the heart to throw it away and so it’s stayed in a box of memories that moves with you but you never really look through.

You’re so tired when you finally get home. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You’ve spent more time either in the studio or with Jimin or Hoseok or at work than you have here. And you know from the times that you are here that Seokjin is gone just as often as you. It doesn’t even feel like you’re in a relationship anymore. It hurts to think about that.

So you’d thought summer would be the perfect time for the two of you to rekindle your relationship. Fix whatever problems you were having, free from the stress of finals. But with senior year quickly approaching, everything seems to have just gotten worse. You can never seem to catch Seokjin to start the process of fixing anything.

To your surprise, when you open the door you find Seokjin sitting on the bed, face pinched as he stares at something on his phone. Maybe this will finally be the opportunity to talk and start fixing things. You miss him, body cold and numb the nights you fall asleep here alone, always waiting and waking up disappointed.

Before you can say anything, his head lifts and the cold glare he sends you stops you in your tracks. What could possibly have happened to make him give you that look? You know the two of you have been having some problems, but nothing that would warrant that look.

“Where the hell were you?” His tone is as icy as his eyes.

You frown, gesturing vaguely towards the fridge. “Work. I put my schedule up so you knew.” He didn’t have the same courtesy. You never knew when he was working. Or what else he was doing when he was out. You had put yours up in hopes that he would do the same and maybe you would be able to find time to be together. Though you’re not sure he even bothered to go near the fridge. The few times you’ve made dinner for him and left the leftovers in the fridge with a note went untouched.

He sneers and holds his phone out towards you. You have to step closer to get a good look at the image he has pulled up. It’s from just a few hours ago. You and Jimin sat at one of the cafe tables and laughing. It had been your break and Jimin came in to keep you company. Had Seokjin come by the cafe? Why hadn’t he come in? If he’d been there when this was taken, you were on break, you could’ve spent it together.

“Then what’s this? Certainly doesn’t look like work to me.”

Your mind blanks. Is he seriously accusing you of lying right now? Indignation rises, acid burning in your throat. “What are you saying? If you were there why didn’t you come in? I would have loved to see you.”

“I wasn’t there. A friend sent this. And I’m saying that you’re never around. And I keep getting people telling me they see you out with him all the time. I haven’t seen you in weeks. But it seems like he sees you every day.”

He can’t seriously be accusing you of cheating right now. This seriously can’t be happening right now. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the accusation. It hurts that he’d honestly think you’d do that. Then the ugly thoughts come. What’s that saying, those who are most guilty are the quickest to throw blame at others?

“First of all,” you grit out, trying your best to keep your tone even. You can feel the rage churning in your belly. “I was on break when that was taken. Jimin came to visit because he knew someone wasn’t going to.” Seokjin’s mouth opens to speak but you continue, voice raising. He is not going to get to cut you off now. “It’s awfully fucking rich for you to accuse me when you have no evidence. You’re never even around. You know what they say, it’s never the one being blamed but the one doing the blaming.”

He scoffs and stands. In his anger, he seems to tower over you. But you’re too angry and indignant yourself for it to feel intimidating. You stare him down.

“You’re really going to accuse me now?”

“It’s the same thing you’re doing! I was hoping to fucking talk when I saw you were home. I was so happy to see you here. We haven’t been home together in so long. I-”

“We haven’t been home together because you’re always out with Jimin.”

“No I haven’t been fucking home because you’re never home and it fucking hurts to be in this shitty apartment without the person who’s supposed to be here with me. Do you know how fucking lonely it is waiting around here for a person who never shows up?”

Turning away from you, he takes a few deep breaths.

You deflate slightly. You could still fix this. “Seokjin-”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”

He moves towards the door and you panic. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You wanted to fix things. To make them better. Everything has spiraled and you can’t let him slip through your fingers. You reach for his wrist.

“Seokjin, wait-”

He wretches his hand free and glances at you over his shoulder with so much contempt that you feel your heart in your throat. “No. I’m done.”

This can’t be it. This really can’t be it. He sees you about to speak again and turns and leaves before you can get a word out and it feels like the rug has been ripped out from beneath you. The silence deafening in his absence.

You don’t know how long you stand there for. You feel completely numb. Like this is just a bad dream and you’ll wake up soon and Seokjin will be next to you and you’ll tell him about this and he’ll laugh and comfort you and tell you that would never happen. You expect tears, but they never come. Everything feels so surreal.

The man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with just walked out on you after accusing you of cheating. 5 years and he really thought that was something you would do. Do you wait around? Hope he comes back for you both to talk with calmer minds.

You settle for a text.

You: Can we talk once we’ve both calmed down?

It’s less than a second later and the response makes your heart sink. Blocked.

He really blocked you already. He’s not even going to try? You sink onto the bed. What are you supposed to do now?

At some point, mechanically, you text Jimin, asking if he could come over and bring some boxes. Looking around, you’re at least grateful that your place was small because it means you don’t have that much to try to move. Jimin arrives, faster than you expected. Or maybe you’ve just become that disconnected from the passage of time.

He drops the boxes and comes up to you, hands fretting over you like there’s some physical injury he can attend to. Unless he knows how to mend a broken heart, his fretting is useless. Instead you move on autopilot, taking the boxes Jimin brought and packing your meager possessions into them. Jimin stands by the kitchen, looking sad and lost, unable to help because you have yet to say a word. He knows what happened though. It’s not hard to figure out. You’re thankful that he doesn’t try to get you to talk. Just lets you move and do what you need. Waits for you to ask should you need help.

You’re almost finished packing when you pull the shoebox from under the bed and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Flipping the lid open reveals hundreds of photos. Of friends. Of family. Of trips. Of Seokjin. The top pictures pull your attention. Two copies of the same photo. A blurry snapshot of you two grinning on the beach. You both look so young and happy. You wish you could go back to that. Everything was so simple back then.

He must have put his copy in with yours. Because why would they need to be kept in different places when the two of you would never be apart. You almost want to laugh. You mostly want to cry. You stand with the box, debate for all of two seconds before you set his copy down on the bed. He can decide what to do with his own copy. That’s not for you to decide. Not anymore.

Tucking the shoebox into the last of the moving boxes, you cast one last look around the apartment. The holes where your things were hurt to see. The physical evidence that this part of your life is over. Carefully extracted from a life that had been so delicately intertwined. You wonder if the gaps will even bother Seokjin. If he’ll even bother staying here, if he’ll move onto something bigger and better. Without you. Swallowing, you turn to Jimin before those thoughts can spiral. Not here. Not yet. Once you’re somewhere else and alone. Then it can all come out.

“Ready?”

You give a small nod and Jimin helps take your things downstairs. He does most of the work while you wait on the sidewalk. He calls a taxi, loads your things into, gives the driver his address.

As it pulls away from the curb, you can’t help but to watch the apartment shrink into the distance. Feeling like you left your heart behind. You wonder if you’ll ever get it back.

Your phone dings with a notification, dragging you out of the sad memories. You give yourself a small shake. You hadn’t thought about that day in years, pushing it to the back of your mind. You had learned later on that some girls had told Seokjin lies about you to get the two of you to break up in a bid for his attention. It had backfired spectacularly because you found out through Hoseok after he overheard Seokjin yelling at the girl who asked him out less than a week after the break up. He never came to talk to you after the truth came out though. You never let yourself think too hard about why that might be. You’d already spent too many nights feeling numb and broken. You poured yourself into your work. Your friends. You had been content for your senior year. It didn’t go how you were expecting, but it was still good.

You smile at the device in your hand. It’s far more advanced than your old flip phones had been, even your college phone had been fairly low tech, the downsides of living on a budget. High school you would have killed for a camera this good back then. That blurry picture of you and Seokjin would’ve been much more clear if you’d had something like this back then. You swipe the notification away, just an email from your assistant about your schedule for tomorrow and what had been shifted around from today. But all that can wait until later, probably when you’re back home. The notification draws your attention to a text from Hoseok that you hadn’t seen though. He must have messaged while you were walking so you didn’t feel your phone go off.

Hobihobi: Are you ok?

You smile at his concern. And honestly the fact that he even noticed you dipped out of the studio early. You had thought that he had been too busy on his own upcoming project to notice. It’s a pretty big deal for your label and he’s been working so hard to get this project. You’re just glad you have the perk of being boss to be able to dip when you need to. Although technically, you and Hoseok own your label, Daydream Designs, together.

Texting him a quick reassurance, you pocket the device again, content to just enjoy the sunset out here alone. There’s a few people scattered around the beach. A few families beginning to pack up for the evening, a person running with their dog, a couple walking along the shoreline.

You have such fond memories of this beach. For all the bad memories you have of the relationship, mostly from the end of it, at least the beach remains untainted.

Nervously clutching the letter in your hand, your leg bounces as you wait for Seokjin to arrive. He’d texted you earlier that he’d gotten a letter from SNU. You’d rushed home to see you had a letter waiting as well. You were thankful that they had come on the same day. You can’t imagine how much more anxiety you’d have if you’d had to wait longer for one of your letters to arrive.

You glance at the white envelope, the edges are beginning to wrinkle from your grip, but you can’t get your fingers to relax. Checking your phone again, you wonder where Seokjin is. He should be here soon. The beach is crowded today. The weather finally nice enough and the water clear and warm. It was a miracle that you’d managed to get your bench when you’d arrived. But someone had just been leaving when you’d gotten here and you’d quickly jogged over to take it before someone else could snatch it. It seemed like the perfect place to see what your future held.

Seokjin appears suddenly, panting like he ran the whole way here. Which, given the sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead, is a good possibility. He still looks handsome, more so when he sends you a brilliant grin.

“You got our bench!”

Returning his smile, you send him a wink. “I had to fight an old lady for it.”

He presses a quick kiss to your lips as he sits down, brandishing his letter. “How do you want to do this?”

Chewing your lip, you think it over. “I don’t think I can open it.”

His eyes soften and he takes your hand. He can read you so well. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “How about we open each other’s?”

Reluctantly, you nod. Would it really be better to see that he got in while still not knowing if you got in too? Swapping letters, you stare down at his name spelled out in ink. You know he got in. There’s no way he didn’t. Seokjin nudges you and you look up.

“Count of three?” You nod. “Okay… 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Seokjin is a little faster in tearing open the envelope than you are but you keep your gaze firmly downcast, watching as your fingers tear open the paper with meticulous care. You skim his letter quickly.

Congratulations.

He got in. Joy swells in you and you look up with a grin, momentarily forgetting your own letter. Your smile quickly falters though when you see the flat look on Seokjin’s face as he stares down at your letter and your heart sinks.

Tugging his hand to get his attention, you give him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s okay. You said-”

“You got in.”

You blink. His words swirling around your head but not fully registering. “What?”

He envelops you in a massive hug, laughing with joy. “You got in! Baby, you did it!”

You still feel a little dumbfounded, but you’re quickly filling with excitement. “You too! Jinnie, you got in too!”

He pulls back and presses a long kiss to your lips. His eyes look suspiciously wet, but you decide not to comment. You’re positive that your’s are probably a little wet too. “The next four years are going to be amazing.”

He had been so optimistic back then. You could use some of that optimism now.

You hadn’t originally planned on cutting out of work early, especially not to come here of all places. There were some designs that you needed to work on, a few ideas that you had that you wanted to get sketched up to show to Hoseok. But when you’d been walking through the common area during lunch, you’d overheard a couple of people gathered around a computer gushing about the Kim Seokjin wearing one of Hoseok’s designs.

It’s definitely not the first time. Hoseok knew Seokjin in university when you knew him too, although you were always closer to him since you shared a lot of classes, and obviously a shared love of fashion. But the two were friendly and remained so afterward, but on a more acquaintanceship basis. The break up clearly divided some friendships, though you hated that it happened. You didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to stop being friends with either of you just because you two were no longer dating.

You know it’s not the first time Hoseok has designed something for Seokjin. And normally, him wearing one of Hoseok’s designs wouldn’t bother you too much. Both because it’s good for Hoseok because Hoseok is a genius and deserves it, but because it’s also really good for your label in general in terms of good press. Though you know Hoseok sometimes slips your designs into things that get sent to him. You saw one of your jackets ended up at an award show.

Idle chatter about Seokjin around the office isn’t that new. You suppose that’s one of the downsides to being in an industry that is very closely tied to idols and actors and actresses. It’s not an uncommon occurrence to hear them gossip about him, he’s one of the most popular drama actors currently and everyone loves to gush about how handsome and funny he is. They find it odd that you’ll talk about anyone with them except him. They leave it be much easier now, but in the beginning they still tried to include you.

You’ve even dealt easily with the dating rumors. All the pretty actresses he’s supposedly dating. And why wouldn’t he? He’s gorgeous and talented and so, so kind. Any woman would be lucky to have him. You’ve been on the receiving end of his love. You know how easy it is to fall.

If your coworkers knew that you’d dated him in the past, they would think you were crazy to let him go. And maybe be a little jealous and probably pepper you with questions about him. You definitely are thankful they don’t know because the way some of them gossip about their own sex lives, they’d beg for details about a celebrity’s from first hand experience.

Excitement fills you as you sit in the airport. It’s finally summer. Your first year of college is behind you and you now get to spend two whole weeks with Seokjin in Jeju. Well Seokjin and his family. But they were kind enough to let the two of you have your own little place on the island. Well it was more of just the guest house to the main house they, along with Seokjin’s brother, would be staying at.

This will likely be the only big summer trip you both take during college. Seokjin had originally planned to not go. More content to work all summer and save up money so the two of you could get an apartment off campus. His parents had offered to pay for a place, but Seokjin was adamant that the two of you wanted to do this for yourselves.

You’d try to hide your disappointment about not going, but he knows you far too well and caved quickly to saying one trip wouldn’t hurt his independence. So now here you were, ready to fly out to Jeju. You haven’t been since you were little and you were excited that you got to go back and this time with Seokjin.

The flight is quick and uneventful and Seokjin gets a taxi to take you to the beach house, his parents having arrived a few days prior.

The main house is beautiful, but you’re more excited to see where you’ll be staying. The outside of the guest house looks like a miniature version of the main one. Inside, it’s spacious, all one room with an attached bathroom. The bed is separated from the living area by an ornate partition painted with a starry nightscape. The moon is painted in such gorgeous detail that you’re tempted to tell Seokjin you want to steal the partition when you leave.

The living area is simple, a plush sofa and matching chair set facing a wall mounted TV. A small, well-stocked minibar is pressed against one wall. Around the partition and into the sleeping area is a large bed facing a set of french doors that open out onto a small deck that leads right down to the beach in two steps.

Flopping onto the bed with a giddy giggle, you watch as Seokjin sets his bag down and gives you a fond smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You squirm back slightly, coy smile stretching your lips. “I don’t know. The bed seems kind of empty.”

He chuckles, sitting on the bed and tugging you into his lap. “Better?”

Humming, you press a kiss to his lips. “Much.”

When you go to pull away, he follows, capturing your lips in another, deeper kiss. “We don’t… have… a lot of time…” he murmurs between kisses.

You give a vague affirmative, only half listening to his words in favor of pressing him back into the mattress. His parents can wait, you have some important business first.

The night air is cool, the french doors left open, gauzy curtains shifting in the gentle breeze. Shifting onto his side, Seokjin presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, soft and unhurried. It’s only been a couple of days since you’ve been here. But it’s been utter bliss, especially after the exhaustion from finals.

You nudge the sheet lower down your bodies and press closer to him. Tonight seems like the perfect time for something soft and unhurried. A perfect time to really connect again. No hurrying because of classes, or roommates, or meetings. No papers to worry about.

Just you and Seokjin. In a plush bed with a cool, ocean breeze enveloping you. If you peek through the curtains, you can just make out the shape of the moon, the illumination making Seokjin glow before you.

He’s already bared to you. Both of you showering off the ocean water from an evening dip and simply crawling into bed together afterwards. The TV is off, the only sounds filling the room is the rustle of the sheets as you move and the lapping of the waves on the shore. You dare not speak and break the peaceful atmosphere and Seokjin seems to be on the same wavelength.

Neither of you need to speak to know how to move around each other here. He cups your face, such a gentle caress, like you’re the most fragile and beautiful thing he’s ever held. It makes you feel cherished. He leans closer and time seems to slow down with the press of his plush lips to yours. He takes his time kissing you, so slowly like you have the rest of eternity for just this moment.

Pushing you onto your back, Seokjin cages you in, enveloping you in the safe blanket of his embrace. His scent is overwhelming like this, you could drown in it. His hips press into yours, cock not fully hard yet, but that doesn’t matter. This is about taking your time with each other. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands sliding from his neck up into his hair.

The strands are a little dried out, a combination of the salty ocean water and the fresh bleaching it got. His parents hated it at first, but he defended it as just college experimentation. It’s supposed to be a time of discovery and why not try different hair colors. He’s unfairly attractive with the bleach blonde, just as handsome as his natural brunette. You know he plans to dye it another color. But he’s yet to tell you what it’ll be.

You give his hair a light tug, relishing the sigh he releases against your lips.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Just you.”

“You always have me.”

Seokjin nudges your thighs apart as he kisses across your jaw and down your neck. Trailing across your collarbones, he leaves a line nips down to your sternum. His hands slide up your sides till they meet your breasts, fingers cupping the soft flesh as he peppers kisses across the expanse of your chest. He traces one nipple with his tongue, teasing the bud to stiffness with each swipe. He moves on to the other one, changing it up and using his teeth this time. The air fills with your soft moans, blending with the waves outside.

Moving lower, Seokjin kisses your belly, taking his time to touch every little mark across your skin. Pleasure simmers in your belly, every nerve burns like a live wire. Over all that, you feel loved. Absolutely worshiped as Seokjin presses a kiss to your mound with such reverence that you think he might convert right here and now.

Seokjin eats you out just as slowly and thoroughly as he kissed you. He savors you with each swipe of his tongue, every suck, every twist of his fingers. Seokjin plays your pleasure like a fine-tuned instrument, drawing you ever so slowly to the edge. Your fingers thread through his hair once more, not to be demanding, but for the sake of feeling grounded. His tongue laps at you like you’re a ten course meal and he wants to savor every single morsel. When you chance a glance down at him, his eyes are closed, handsome face, what you can see of it at least, smoothed out in utter bliss.

When you finally cum, it feels like sinking into pure euphoria. Seokjin drags it out for so long and so gently that you cum a second time. Though you’re so lost in sensation that maybe it’s still the first orgasm.

Pushing himself to his knees, his face glistens with your slick and you feel bereft with the distance suddenly between you. You reach out for him and he falls right into you, lips crashing against yours as his cock presses against your pussy. But you need more than that and you squirm, drawing a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“Impatient…” he murmurs.

But despite his teasing, he shifts until the tip of his cock catches your hole and he slides in with languid push. You sigh his name and he answers with a nod, lips brushing your neck as he pulls back and starts a slow, almost lazy, rhythm. You cling to him, nearly delirious with pleasure.

Nudging Seokjin, you pull him in for a kiss of your own. “I love you.”

He groans into your mouth. “Fuck… I love you too. So much.”

You lose track of time, your pace unhurried. Seokjin cums at some point and the two of you lay facing each other and exchanging soft kisses until you drift off to sleep.

You whine as Seokjin slips his cock into you. He’s been teasing you all day on the beach. At one point while you were in the water with him, his fingers slipped beneath your suit to tease along your pussy. You’d nearly screamed at the sudden sensation, but Seokjin had merely laughed and floated out of your reach, sending you a wink as he licked his finger. The second you returned to your room from dinner he was on you. This is so different from the other night. Somewhere in between the rushed couplings in the dorms and the slow, soft sex from then. It feels just as good, a little rough, fun, light. Perfect.

Seokjin grins cockily above you. “I barely did anything and you’re so wet for me, baby.”

Huffing, you try to kick at him, but he easily pins your leg down. He tuts and delivers a thrust that jostles you up the bed and draws a gasp from you. He looks entirely too pleased with himself.

Before you can formulate any other sort of retaliation, the sound of voices catches your attention. Glancing to the side shows that neither of you shut the french doors. The voices don’t sound close, but they are near enough for you to hear. It’s not too strange, the beach is there for anyone. But it’s the first night that anyone has been out there, at least close enough for you to be able to hear from your bed. Music soon follows the voices. A party.

Unbidden, the thought of someone breaking away from the party, coming down the beach this way and passing by the open doors has you clenching around Seokjin. He gasps at the sudden tightness, blinking down at where you’re connected. Licking his lips, he follows your gaze and a moment later, you see realization cross his features.

His resulting grin is downright dangerous. “What’s got you going, baby? Hm?”

Swallowing, you turn back to him, blocking out the voices. You will not give him the satisfaction. “Nothing.”

Fingers digging into your hips, Seokjin glances towards the doors again. He gives a harsh thrust that pulls a startle moan from you. “Nothing, huh? I don’t think that’s true.” He turns back to you and there’s a dark look in his eyes. “I think that you want someone to walk by and see us. That the idea of being caught is exciting.”

You scoff, deliberately turning your face away from the doors. “I’m actually bored and thinking about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

Seokjin blinks at you for a moment before chuckling darkly. “Is that right?” You nod. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

It sounds like a threat and a challenge. And you’re never one to back down from a challenge. “Well in the morning, we’re meeting your parents for brunch…”

Seokjin’s tongue presses against his cheek as he slams his cock into you. It would force you up the bed if not for his bruising grip on your hips keeping you firmly pinned in place, forced to take the full brunt of his cock spliting you open.

But you’re just as stubborn as him. “Then we’re going… to the spa… oh my g-god… you… you made… p-plans for lunch…”

Every few words you stutter out are punctuated by another harsh thrust. Your legs are pushed towards your chest and his next thrust has his cock rubbing along your g-spot and for a second, your mind blanks on what’s happening, pleasure so sudden and searing that you forget everything but the full feel of Seokjin’s cock inside you. He starts to grin then, victoriously, and that pulls you out of it just enough to continue, gritting your teeth as he continues to fuck you.

“Said you had… a surprise… then we were going to… oh, fuck… gonna go to t-town… buy some… gifts… Seokjin, please…”

He grins. “Gonna admit what you were thinking about?”

One hand leaves your legs, thumb brushing your clit and your resolve crumbles with your rising desire to cum.

“Fuck… yes! I want someone to walk by. See you fucking me, making me cum, making me feel good… Seokjin, please…” you whine out.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

His rough thrusts pick up again. This time accompanied by the rhythmic movements on his fingers on your clit. Your orgasm builds quickly and leaves you breathless as Seokjin forces you over the edge. You cry out, heedless of the volume of your voice. If anything, the thought of someone hearing how Seokjin makes you feel makes you shudder with pleasure.

Seokjin groans, hands dropping to the bed as he chases his own orgasm, smothering his moan of your name against your shoulder.

When he’s caught his breath, he raises his head, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “So… exhibitionism, huh?”

The stories you had are probably worth a lot. Which is why you keep them to yourself. No one but you and Seokjin need to know those details. Especially not some of the more nosy people you work with. Hoseok thankfully played along with only knowing him on a professional level and not that you all went to university together.

It’s typically pretty easy to just ignore the chatter when it comes up about him. But a couple days ago, you had a dream about him. One that after you woke up, you couldn’t recall almost anything about it. Except his face and the heavy feeling in your heart. His smile was burned into your mind and has left you feeling off since then. The mention of him today combined with the weird feeling brought back a whole slew of memories and things you had thought you’d long since moved past. To the point that you made the decision to leave work to work early because you were so confused. Why you were suddenly feeling like this about someone who you thought you’ve been over for more than 10 years.

You never thought you’d be here back in university. Together with Seokjin. You both had thought you’d be together forever, whispered together about getting married, about the future. The things you’d do and the places you’d go to.

The arm around your bare waist tightens, a firm chest pressing into your back.

“What’re you thinking about, baby?” Seokjin murmurs into the skin of your shoulder.

You chew your lip nervously before shifting in his grip so that you’re now facing each other. You’ve been thinking about a lot of things as freshman year draws to a close. All of them lead back to Seokjin.

The afternoon sunlight peeks in through the curtains, casting golden light across him and the dormroom. It’s an odd time to be in bed together, but it’s one of the only moments that you both have free and there’s no dormmates around to bother or have to kick out. Though you know Yoongi, Seokjin’s roommate and faux reluctant friend, would give you both the space if you asked. You don’t want to be the person that kicks him out constantly, so for now, you both are content to steal some free moments during the day when Yoongi has classes. Maybe next year you can think about getting a little place off campus together. A place both for you guys and maybe for your friends to visit and hang out at.

You think Seokjin looks the most beautiful under the afternoon light regardless. Seokjin pecks your nose, drawing your attention back to him and his question that remains unanswered. You feel a little nervous bringing up what you were thinking about. But the two of you have been together for almost 3 years. You should be able to bring it up to him.

Swallowing your slight nerves, you finally speak. “Was just… thinking about the future…”

His answering smile is warm and gentle and you feel like the world could crumble around you and you would be safe here in his arms. “I hope I’m there.”

Giggling, you press a kiss to his lips. “Of course. I can’t imagine a future without such a handsome man on my arm while I attend extravagant parties and get all the jealous stares to be dating someone so much younger than me.”

Gasping with as much drama as you expect from him, Seokjin falls onto his back, hands clutched over his chest. “I can’t believe this! The truth has finally come out! You’re only with me for my youthful looks!”

Fond smile growing, you settle your hand over his as he continues a dramatic monologue about the ultimate betrayal. You wish he would listen to you about changing his major. You know he’d love being an acting major much more than he currently is in his business major classes. A major he’s in only to appease his family.

Finally tired of his dramatics, you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

You wonder when he changed his degree. Or if he ever did. You know plenty of people who go into acting without the degree and Seokjin certainly had the inherent talent to do it. It would be easy to verify if you just looked him up. Someone who’s so in the spotlight now would certainly have his degree information online. But you don’t want to do that. You wonder how invasive that must be. Although you and Hoseok are beginning to get that popular too, you wonder if those sorts of things will begin to happen to you. You can’t imagine you’d be very interesting to follow around.

Truthfully, you don’t know what would be worse in regards to the fate of Seokjin’s degree. If he had done what you had told him all along and changed his major after you two broke up, or if he had decided to follow his dreams even if he didn’t have the degree for it. It’s undeniable that it hurts either way. The first time you’d seen him in a trailer had sent you spiraling in a way that you hadn’t since the breakup.

There’s a pounding at the door, but you can’t find it in yourself to get off the couch. The TV is still on the channel it had been on last night and you’re still sat in the same place as then. Honestly, you only know that it’s at least morning because there’s light streaming in through the windows and when you had seen the trailer it had definitely been evening.

You had been watching some show, whatever you landed on first that seemed at least mildly entertaining, while eating dinner. A quick break from the sketches that are scattered across your coffee table. Sketches that could lead to your first big contract.

But your peaceful and exciting night of work had been interrupted when you’d seen a preview for a new drama. A new drama with Kim Seokjin. It had been crushing to see. You had been telling him to do that for so long. To the point that it became one of the contributing factors in your seemingly inevitable breakup.

It seems then that the problem was never with whether or not he would follow his dreams after graduation. It was just if you would be there with him. You cried when you saw it, a vice of bitterness around your heart that while you don’t get to celebrate with him, you’re so happy that he’s doing what he loves. You’re fairly certain you stopped sometime around midnight, though the night was a little hazy as your thoughts circled around one thing. How he hadn’t wanted you there with him.

The banging at your door stops at some point, though you don’t know how long they kept it up for. And then your door is suddenly being shoved open, banging against the wall and there’s two sets of footsteps moving quickly into the apartment. You hear a muffled ‘fuck’ and then you’re being enveloped in a hug.

It takes only a moment for you to realize who it is, the orange-y scent of Jimin’s favorite cologne washing over you. Your breath stutters then, it hurts to breathe so you bury your face in his chest and his arms tighten around you. He murmurs comforting words and someone else sits behind you, hand gently rubbing your back.

Eventually, you calm down and you pull away to give Jimin a weak smile, one that you direct to Hoseok as well when you see him behind you. Jimin returns with a pained smile of his own.

“You saw, huh?” You nod and Jimin sighs. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t see it last night. It’s what I was planning to tell you at dinner tonight. So you could be prepared for it. I’m so sorry I waited to tell you.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, you have nothing to apologize for.” You rub your neck. “I… I didn’t think I would react quite like this… It’s been 3 years. You worked so hard to help me out of that dark place-”

Jimin puts a hand over your mouth, cutting you off. “No, you worked hard to get yourself out of that dark place. I was just there to hold your hand. It was a tough breakup. It’s understandable if there’s occasionally things that bring that heartache back up.”

You nod slowly, not fully believing his assertion that he just held your hand post break up. You probably would’ve dropped out of university after the breakup if you hadn’t met Jimin. You look between him and Jimin. “H-how did you know to come?”

Hoseok gives a sheepish grin. “You didn’t show up to work and I got worried. I texted Jimin on my way here and he seemed to know exactly what had happened.”

“Now that we’re here. How about I go get all of us some junk food and you two find something trashy for us to binge?”

After that, it got much easier to see him on your screen. Or on screens in the train stations. Or plastered on ads and billboards.

It helped you actually, to finally, truly move on from him. A sort of immersion therapy to numb you to his face. You didn’t need him to be happy. You loved your budding design business with Hoseok, clubbing with Jimin, dating both casually and more seriously. It all got easier with time and you’re grateful for the friends that you have. Your friends have always been there for you, even back then.

Your first birthday after the breakup was rough. Seokjin always planned something elaborate and thoughtful. There would be none of that this year. You went to work in the morning, gave your coworkers a fake smile as they wished you a happy birthday with a cupcake in the breakroom before you opened the cafe. It was sweet of them to do, but the breakup was still far too recent for you to truly enjoy anything like this.

Jimin had night classes so you would have the evening alone. You at least had your own room now instead of sleeping on Jimin’s couch in his old apartment. You had protested his plan to move to a two bedroom apartment for you both to share so you could have your own space. You knew on your meager wages you’d never be able to help with rent at such a large place. You and Seokjin had barely been able to afford your studio together.

But Jimin insisted. He had more than enough to cover rent and you could just save your money. Or buy groceries and cook. He hated cooking, could do it just fine but was too impatient for it. It seemed like incredibly inadequate compensation for him giving you a place to live, but he just smiled and said that’s what friends do for each other. You had cried and he teased you afterward and then made you buy him ice cream. But you agreed to moving and letting him help.

And it was nice to have your own room. It was great to live with Jimin. He was the sweetest and seemed to always know exactly what you needed. Hoseok visited often too, though you don’t know if he was coming to see you or Jimin more some days, and the three of you worked hard to get through your last year of university. Together.

But with Jimin in classes tonight, the apartment would be empty. You didn’t really feel like cooking either. So you’d probably just have some ramen. If you could even be bothered to eat to begin with. You freeze when you get to your floor, brows knit in confusion when you see a beautiful bouquet of red and yellow lilies, interspersed with sheep sorrels. The vase is a glossy deep blue, splashes of purples and pinks and speckles of white paint of soft starry night.

You wonder who they’re for. They must have been left at the wrong door. You carefully look through the petals for a card, finding the glossy little square quickly. Tears gather in your eyes when you see the little cartoon cat head sketched into the blank area of the card. It’s a little cruder than you’re used to seeing, the ear slightly misshapen, the cheeks a little too chunky, the lines a little unsure.

But it’s unmistakably Yoongi’s cat doodle. Meaning he must have dropped these off for you, even though you and Seokjin have broken up. And you’re not even sure if he knew where your new place was. You’d have to thank him soon for them. It makes the day a little less rough to have something so pretty. To know someone was thinking of you.

You never did get the chance to thank him properly for the gift. At least directly. You’d taken him a coffee, a few days later, as thanks. He’d looked a little confused but never questioned or made you say anything out loud. Which you’re grateful for. Just because you and Seokjin split up, didn’t mean you and Yoongi couldn’t still be on friendly terms. Though you haven’t properly talked to him in quite a while. Maybe you should ask him to meet up soon. See how he’s been doing.

But even with all the progress you’ve made and all that your friends have done for you, you still have the occasional bad day. Looking back on it, it had been years since you had one that affected you enough that you had to take off work specifically in regards to Seokjin. You’re really not sure what made it seem like the beach, this beach was the best place to go. But there was just something that called you here.

For as painful as the breakup was, Seokjin was your first love. He was amazing while you were together. Always loving and supportive. Even when things started to fall apart.

With a groan, you push the apartment door open, giving a harder shove when it gets jammed. Like it always does and your landlord refuses to do a thing about it. The lights are off when you finally get the door shut and your heart sinks. Seokjin was supposed to be home. You haven’t seen him for more than a few minutes in the last week. This was going to finally be the night you spent together. Throwing your bag down, you flick the lights on, seeing the cramped studio apartment is indeed empty. You pull your phone out, seeing if maybe he just ran out for something or if he was running late, but there’s nothing.

You try not to let your disappointment consume you and instead grab your sketchbook from the shelf and decide to get some sketches done while you wait, hoping, probably vainly, that Seokjin will be back soon.

You jerk awake to the sound of the door slamming and when you blink blearily at the clock, it’s nearly midnight. You turn to watch as Seokjin kicks his shoes off, weariness written in his posture.

“Hey,” you croak and Seokjin gives no indication that he heard you. “Where were you?”

Seokjin straightens and sighs before turning to you. There’s a dead look in his eye that you’ve never seen before, let alone had directed at you. “Out.”

For all that you had been sad or worried, anger and confusion surges through you at his complete disregard. “Out? You could’ve texted. We were supposed to have a night in together.”

His jaw tightens and he drops his bag beside yours before moving towards the bathroom, the only place in this shithole with a door. “I had to study.”

And before you can say anything else, the bathroom door is slammed shut behind him. You stare at it incredulously. He can’t be serious. You’re just as stressed as he is. Finals are creeping in and along with that is planning for senior year. At the rate you’re going, summer is going to be unbearable.

You sigh, shaking the memories away. You don’t want to dwell on the bad anymore. Even if the breakup was crushing, the good times were amazing. With the sun finally below the horizon, the moon takes its place, casting cool white light across the beach. And with it, comes the peace of being alone. You let the sound of the waves lull your thoughts to silence.

But the sound of footsteps pulls your attention, confused because the beach is basically deserted at this time, the chill brought in with the moon driving most people inside. Your breath catches in your throat when you see Seokjin standing not far from you. The wind blows his hair from his face and he looks tired. A little older, but still just as handsome as he was in university.

There’s no way that this is happening. You must be dreaming. That’s right. This is just another dream. A weird continuation of the one from a couple of days ago. Seokjin isn’t really here. Not at the same time as you. Not when there’s no one around. Not when your heart feels vulnerable and you can admit that you maybe really, really miss him. Sometimes.

But the chill from the wind feels real. The wood biting into your palms where your grip has tightened on the bench feels real. He looks real and handsome and devastating. Every bit like the man who stole your heart in high school and broke it in college. Who loved to make sure his loved ones were always laughing. Who had such a flair for dramatics that it was never a surprise that he’s such a popular and talented actor.

The jacket wrapped around his shoulders is unmistakably yours. A silly, casual design that you had done but never put into a collection cause there was never one it fit. You had sewn it on a whim, the idea eating away at you until you made it, settled the itch in your fingers. There’s only one way that Seokjin could’ve gotten that.

Hoseok.

Have they been talking more than Hoseok let on?

Seokjin hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re wondering if you’d be able to slip away without having him notice you when he turns and freezes. He seems just as surprised and blindsided to see you as you are to see him. You stare at each other and it feels like an eternity and a million conversations pass between you both. He swallows and closes the short distance between you both and tentatively takes a seat beside you.

He looks nervous when he turns towards you. Clearing his throat after a moment, he sticks his hand out, tentative smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin.”

You almost laugh. It’s such a him thing to do. As if you would ever forget him. Seokjin left a scar on your heart, you’d carry a little piece of him for the rest of your life.

But the introduction feels like more than a way to break the tension. There’s a question hiding in his innocuous words. Is this okay? Can I be here? Can we be in each other’s lives again?

Most importantly, it feels like a fresh start. A new chapter. You and Seokjin are different people now. You’re both successful. You’ve grown, matured, learned. You’re no longer the starry-eyed, hopeful kids in college. Full of dreams and hopes, but with so little experience.

Who knows, maybe there won’t even be romantic feelings between you anymore. Maybe you’ll just end up friends.

But maybe this new start is what you both need. The sun may have set on your relationship in the past, but maybe it was just what you both needed to let the sun rise now. Something new, and exciting, but still a little bit familiar.

You take his hand with a smile. “Hi, Kim Seokjin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

#bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #purplearmynet #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin angst #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic #jin angst

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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions.

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work.

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset.

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that.

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious.

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on.

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder.

So that’s how it’ll be.

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip.

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that.

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all.

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them.

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right.

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two.

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up.

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you.

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped.

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.”

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep.

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #my writing

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kidney9-9 · 3 years

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Heartbreak Girl - Peter Parker

Anonymous asked: Hey could you write something with fuckboy!Peter being friends with the reader since high school, and one day he goes to the bar they use to go and she's there, sat alone, crying cause her boyfriend broke up with her to get back with his ex. So he sits with her, even joking about the fact that she has been crying cause he doesn't think it's something serious, but then he's all like: aww come here, wanna tell me what happened? And he comforts her, telling how amazing she is, and that she doesn't deserve someone that can't see how awesome she is AND she invites him over. So... the following day it's just the reader being all like ok so this never happened, and even tho Peter is like: yeah yeah definetly, he is falling hard for her 🥺

Hi sweetie! Hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in. I was listening to 5sos while writing this and the song “Heartbreak girl” popped up, and I had to tittle it after the song omg! Masterlist linked in bio, and tags in a reblog. A little note before you continue! All my writing includes that everyone is of age. Also I thought I should say that please research/plan and use protection for sex! My friend and I spoke about this earlier, and I just wanted to restate that it is very important to use protection!

Peter Parker x Reader (Smut with Plot) Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, more drinking, mention of cheating in past relationship, smut, little angst with happy ending! And unprotected sex (please use protection)! Word Count: 4.3k

You scooted closer to the bar, sighing into your drink once again. You’ve been here for two hours, and already had a few beers, feeling like shit. A tear rolled down your face as you thought back again to Emmett. This morning he fucking sent you a text telling you to pack his shit up and put it outside because he was leaving you. When he got to your apartment, you thought you could work it out, see why he was acting like that. You thought it was just a joke at most, but it wasn’t. He was going back to his ex, Haley, even after all the shit he talked about her to you.

It was ridiculous, you didn’t understand it. You’ve been with him since freshmen year of college; you raised your eyebrows at the thought. It’s been four years and he did that. You really thought you’d marry the guy, or at least buy a house together in the future. You guys even talked about engagement rings for fuck’s sake. You tilted your head back, gulping down the last bit of your beer, before setting it down, and pushing it to the side.

The bartender glanced over to you, shaking his head before placing another beer on the table for you, and you rolled your eyes back to him, but you were thankful he didn’t speak up. You tapped your fingernails into the glass as another few tears rolled down your face, and you were glad you were a silent crier, even though it was upsetting.

You sighed, drinking the beer again and set it down with an unintentional slam. You flinched before shaking your head to yourself, glancing up towards the doorway. You’d probably have to call an uber home or something, unless you stopped drinking now and had a few cups of water. You bit your lip, wondering why you’d even come here instead of staying at home to drink, so you could save money. You focused again back to the entrance, eyes narrowing when you noticed a familiar face.

It was Peter Parker, you realized. And you instantly turned around in your seat, just hoping he didn’t see you cry now. Anyone you knew, seeing you cry, was a no-no. You didn’t like it when people saw the vulnerable side of you like that. It made you feel awkward and uncomfortable.

You thought you were in the clear as you sighed and turned back to the entrance again with your spinning barstool, but you were wrong. Your eyes widened when you saw he took a seat right next to you.

“Y/n, you’re making me feel like I’m invisible here!” Peter laughed, greeting you. He noticed you right away when he walked in, it was the bar the two of you would sneak into all the time during high school. And you were drinking the same beer as well, it was a shitty one, he didn’t understand why you’d ever like it but that was something he remembered well about you.

“Hey…” You responded, trailing off as you quickly wiped at your eyes, trying to make the tears go away. Peter frowned, realizing you were crying, and he reached out to pat your back slowly.

“Aw Y/n! Come here, give me a hug. Want to talk about what happened?” Peter whispered, leaning close to you in concern. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw him, he’d been too busy with his job at Stark Industries. You shook your head back to him while shrugging, feeling as if you should tell him now, because he wouldn’t let it go. He was stubborn, always wanting to help you even if you didn’t want it though you knew you needed it.

You didn’t give him a hug straight away, worried that you’d get makeup on him from your tears, instead you started to talk. “I, uh, Emmett broke up with me today.” You whispered, voice cracking on his name. Peter’s face hardened at your words.

“That asshole did what?” He spat out, shaking his head in anger. You rolled your eyes back to Peter, not in the mood to tell him the full story, because you were sure it would make you feel more upset, and there was a lot more to the story other than Emmett leaving for Haley.

Peter’s arm slid over your shoulders now, bringing you closer as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry. You’re worth more than that shitbag piece of piss stained…” He stopped, seeing another tear drop. His other hand wiped your cheek softly, collecting the tear slowly.

“I know I am. Just wish I didn’t waste all that time on him now.” You responded, bringing out a small smile at Peter’s actions. Things had been on and off with Emmett at times, but you thought it would last, not him leaving for that girl.

“Let’s think about it this way, now you have the rest of your life, to spend with the people you feel happy with.” Peter murmured back, trying to comfort you more. You sniffled slightly, feeling sad but each time you saw him smile at you that way, you had a hiccup of hope building up.

“Yeah, like you.” You laughed back slowly, the laugh was faked, but it helped you a bit more. Peter smiled back to you, kissing your cheek again before looking to the bartender and ordering a glass of water for you.

He always was so sweet with you, and you appreciated him.

“I think you’re one of the best people I know out here.” He whispered to you. A blush had darkened over his cheeks when he noticed how close he was to you, but you didn’t seem to have much of a reaction, instead you invited him closer to you by setting your head on his shoulder. Peter smiled, wondering how a guy like Emmett ever had a chance with you.

Sure, Peter’s been with several over people before, but he’s always had a crush on you. He flirted openly with you so many times, but you never realized it either, which he found charming. He never pushed you though, into anything romantic. He would never do that type of shit, that was something only assholes did.

“Thanks Peter. Uh, he cheated on me, sort of. Told me he was going back to Haley instead. They’ve been talking for at least a year I think…” You admitted, just rambling out the problems before scrunching your face up together. You didn’t even want to talk about it, but it just flowed out.

Peter let out a surprised laugh, pulling away from you before shaking his head, “What? I thought you’d walk in on him or something… but that is shitty.” You groaned at him, nudging his shoulder and not liking his laugh.

“Would you do something like that?” You questioned him feeling a spike of anger rise. If anyone thought it was okay, you wouldn’t ever want to talk with them again. It just pissed you off and made it made you more upset that Peter laughed about it.

“What! I’m sorry. No, I wouldn’t do that. I laughed because Emmett is an ass like that.” Peter responded, eyes widening when he saw you scoff in return.

“Yeah right. You play with people’s feelings all the time. I’m not letting you forget about Olivia from the grocery store.” You retorted, glancing away from Peter. He sighed, his grin turning into a frown at the mention of Olivia. He made the mistake of going on a date with her, arguing throughout the whole night and then officially broke it up when he made out with her cousin at a party.

“That was… not the best on my part, but Y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I wanted to brighten this fucked up thing. I’m sorry. And uh, I’m sticking by my statement that Emmett is an ass.” He responded, gazing at you as you slowly took a sip of water, forgetting your beer now.

“Yeah, Emmett the ass.” You murmured into the glass of water. Peter nodded back to you, wiping your cheek again as he saw another tear fall.

“Every tear that falls, I will tell you how amazing you are. Promise.” He whispered to you, making you stifle a giggle. You shook your head back to him, after he flicked your arm playfully.

“Shut up Peter,” You chuckled as he took a deep breath, preparing for the compliment.

“Ladies and gentlemen and nonbinary folk here! This girl – right here, you see her?” He paused, gaining the attention of everyone in the bar. Your eyes widened and you quickly hid your face in your hands, getting embarrassed as Peter continued after a few people called back out their answers.

You gasped when you peeked out, seeing he climbed up onto the bar. “She’s fucking incredible! This beautiful, intelligent, perfect human right here. The first time I met her, I instantly thought, fuck, I want to be her best friend. You know, she’s got that type of smile you’ll always remember. And she’s so special, like it makes you wonder if you’ve ever met anyone like her. She’s just - amazing.” Peter stopped as you started to slap his legs, trying to get him to stop.

“She’s the girl I’d give the world to!” He yelled out and you finally yelped out, tugging his whole leg down. He collapsed on the bar, laughing loudly as other hooted for him and the bartender slapped his back with the towel. You tugged him off the bar carefully, laughing as you started finally feel full happiness this evening.

“Parker!” You yipped, shaking your head as you tried to calm your laughter down. He started to laugh along with you, dragging you off the chair to stand with him. You shook your head before pulling him for a hug, not caring about the makeup smear now, instead just needing to be close to him.

“You’re fucking insane.” You mumbled into his ear, still silently giggling.

He hummed back, hugging you even tighter, “Yeah, for you.”

A wild thought invaded you as you gazed up to Peter, almost opening your mind to the various possibilities of what might happen. The way the light shinned on his face, his smile growing each second, he hugged you, the way he’d always kiss your cheeks or your forehead, to the crazy shit he’d do for you. He’s always been this Peter, the Peter that’s always looked at for you, and stayed with you, and fuck – if you weren’t going to take a chance now… when would you?

In an instant, you leaned up, capturing his lips in a soft hesitant kiss. Peter didn’t respond for a few moments, before he gasped, and kissed you back, pulling you even closer to his body. His arm slipped down and grasped around your back tighter, and his other went to the back of your head as he kissed you more passionately.

It was crazy, you couldn’t stop, you wanted more of him now. Fingers crawled under his shirt as you cupped his face, opening your mouth and creating an even sloppier kiss. Moans and whimpers crawled out of each of you, noises muted around you and finally you pulled away, needing air.

“Come home with me?” You asked, breathing heavily against his ear, almost propping your leg over his. Peter shuddered, nodding back to you, and pulled your lips back to his for a shorter strong kiss.

“Yes, yeah.” He whispered back, letting go of you and pulling out his wallet. He tossed a few tens to the waiter and picked your purse up for you before grabbing onto your hand and tugging you out the exit. You laughed, stumbling after him to his car.

You gasped as he slammed you against your bedroom wall, biting down on your bottom lip and hands going everywhere. His hair tickled you as he peppered kisses down south after he tore your clothes off. You giggled when he leaned back up, kissing your ear causing it to tickle.

You pushed back on Peter, making him fall back onto your bed with a surprised laugh. You quickly followed him, unbuckling and pulling down his pants slightly before you leaned up and kissed him again. The kiss was sloppy, everything was so messy, and you loved it. You breathed against his neck as he changed positions with you and then he pulled away.

He stood up, rushing to get out of his boxers and completely taking off his pants. His shirt was already thrown off near your front door. You sorted yourself on the bed, moving up in a more comfortable area, not caring about how many pillows were behind you. You let out a laugh when he stumbled slightly and he grinned back to you, “Wait – I need to know if you want this, and it’s not just you being drunk.” The phrase made you pause and purse your lips together.

“Uh, well I do want this, I’ve thought about it very briefly – it’s just, do we really have to talk about this now?” You struggled, almost wanting to groan at yourself for what you said. It was true, but you knew that even if you weren’t drunk that someday, sometime, in the future, you would hook up with Peter. Like, it was bound to happen. No way would you be in your 70s one day, thinking about all your hook ups, and Peter wouldn’t be on that list. He’s the classic fuckboy, with a few feelings sometimes.

“Oh, come on, what’s that supposed to mean?” Peter almost moaned back, not in any type of sexual way, but you wished it were. Fuck, you really didn’t like deep conversation during any sexual encounter, but right now, you would definitely rather have a philosophical conversation with Peter instead of this one.

You couldn’t count this as a deep conversation at all. He is Peter Parker after all; you wouldn’t expect him to want to talk at this moment (out of every moment that could happen). “Are you going to answer me, Y/n? I mean… I don’t want to do this if you’re going to regret it.” He popped up again, and you raised your eyebrows at yourself, realizing you fell into silence for a while.

“Oh – wait, you think I’d regret it? Parker, there’s no way I’ll regret this. I mean, maybe if I forgot to do laundry yesterday cause then I’ll have to do more shit tomorrow, but other than that I’m fine. I’m not that drunk, I drank a ton of water earlier, still very coherent, and very much consent to this. Fuck man, the only thing I regret here is Emmett!” You rambled, going on and on till you knew it was a bit too much, watching Peter crack a little smile before it ended with a full-blown giggle.

“Okay, okay, no more Emmett for tonight then. He’s – ugh, what did you even see in him?” Peter continued on, making you roll your eyes. Now you knew it was turning into teasing and you nudged him a bit, shaking your head.

“Look at it this way then if you have to know. You’re everything Emmett is not.” You spoke, tilting your head to him slightly. Peter took a long gaze down to your lips before he looked back up, shifting a bit.

“Hmm, that’s an interesting opinion you’ve got there. I hope that means I’m a good guy.” Peter retorted, his voice dropping down to something similar to a whisper. You smiled slightly, nodding back as you leaned in closer to him once again.

He ended up falling back on the bed, next to you, slipping his hand on your cheek to pull you in for a messy kiss. The kiss ended up being so heated that you moaned out in surprise when he slid an arm on your backside, propping you up on his lap. You loved how he was handling you; it was so different from Emmett – you shook the thought from your head, not wanting to make anymore comparisons between them. But either way, the delicacy of the way he held his hands against you and poured out all his lust in these actions made you feel like jelly, almost sliding yourself more onto him. At the same time, the desperation of his kissing, the urge to feel more, it amazed you too.

How come you didn’t sleep with him before this? You found yourself asking this in your head a few times tonight.

“I’ve imagined this for ages but never thought it would ever happen, much less be like this. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Peter huffed out after slipping from your lips for a moment. You raised your eyebrows momentarily, but you didn’t pay much mind to what he was saying, it was all just from the heat of the moment. You doubt he actually did think of this when he was so busy with everything in his life.

“Mm, okay.” You hummed back blinking your eyes closed as your tongue took a sweet taste of the sweat built upon his neck. Peter felt himself intake a large breath as he laid down against the pillow, bringing you along with himself.

“I wanted to treat with you the most respect I can give, make this all fucking proper.” Peter continued, feeling his cock briefly contact your bare thighs. He groaned, bringing you even closer to him and you gasped when you felt your pussy pulsing even more.

“Peter, shut up and fuck me.” You finally deadpanned, staring at his eyes as you watched them widen in surprise for a moment. He didn’t say anymore, as he started to finally put all his focus on you, instead on what he should have done.

He gripped your back again, and you shivered as you started to position yourself on top of him. Peter helped you, by aligning his cock with your entrance, and instantly as you slowly went down, he swore under his breath.

Your eyes watered a bit from the girth, not adjusted to this new size, but you slowly pushed yourself more and the familiar feeling of pleasure quickly came back, heating you up even more. He sat up more to kiss you properly without straining his neck, and he slid his tongue out around your bottom lip. His hands both wound up on your head, and your back helping you start a rhythm.

“You’re so hot.” You whined as he started to take more control, pushing in and out of you as his kisses trailed sloppily down your chest. Your breasts felt quite left out of the equation but once he captured your left breast into his hand and sucked and bit into different regions, you felt even more alive.

The faster he went, the harder he pounded into you now, after he switched positions again. You were laying against the mess of pillows and blankets and he as leaning against your figure, focusing on making you feel good.

There was a moment he swore he almost came at, seeing you stare at him with your mouth wide open, crying out his name. That stare held so much he had yearned for, for so long, and now that he finally saw and felt you in this way, he didn’t want this to be only once. He had a feeling you didn’t want that either.

His hips were almost uncontrollable at this point, shuddering and jerking into you as he cried out your name. It was silenced quickly by your lips and you dug your fingers into his hair, pulling harshly and curling his hair up as your hips started to meet his thrusts more as he hit your g-spot so many times.

Your moans grew louder, feeling him graze over your clit so many times with his fingers. He knew what he was doing, extending your impending orgasm, as that flame started to grow even more in you. It felt like you needed to burst, it was just so much pleasure, you had felt your eyes watering again and you had trouble properly kissing him without sounds leaving your mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, and Peter quickly responded to you, kissing you once more, harder than before, “I’m going to come.” His words made you spiral, only needing that to also fall into orgasm. And just as you reached it, your back leaned up into him even more. Your eyes almost rolled away as the feeling released around your body, almost feeling an incredible waterfall had hit you in a way you couldn’t describe.

Peter cried out a final time, pushing out of you as his cum shot out against your stomach. You could barely see what was happening, but your eyes fluttered closed shortly after you felt Peter collapse next to you. He pressed a warm kiss on the side of your head, making you hum quietly.

The two of you didn’t sway from the position for the rest of the night. Sleep came easier than you thought tonight.

As you drank your morning coffee, you were stuck in a state of shock. Last night was incredible beyond words, and you couldn’t even come to explain the exact feelings you had with and for Peter. And you also concluded that it would be best to pretend it didn’t happen. It was for the best for Peter and you! He might have had a fling or something that you didn’t know about, and you didn’t want to prevent him from getting into any relationships because he felt bad for you… and you needed to focus on getting rid of everything that reminded you of Emmett.

You glanced down to your mug with a grimace, realizing that Emmett gifted it to you for a birthday a few years ago. You couldn’t just waste the coffee, so you just chugged the rest, hoping Peter would get out of the shower soon. You realized you didn’t speak with him this morning, instead you had rushed out of the apartment when you saw the mailman try to slam a few of your packages into your little mailbox. You had the best view for this, and always had trouble with the mailman.

After getting back inside with your slightly damaged packages, you heard the shower running and here you were now. You wiped your forehead lightly with the back of your hand, huffing out a breath as you stared down at the mug for the last time. “Bye bitch.” You whispered, dropping the mug straight into the trash can in your kitchen, not caring how loud the glass shattered once it hit the bottom.

After a few more minutes, you heard the shower turn off. And almost after another five minutes, Peter walked out of the bathroom wearing his clothes from the day before, shaking his damp hair with his hands, hoping he didn’t look funny with his hair like that. You sent an awkward grin his way, “Hey there,” Your voice made you internally cringe. How long has it been since you had a one-night stand? Oh right, never! You didn’t know the etiquette to follow, but instead you knew you needed to get to the point.

Before Peter could say anything, you shook your head to yourself, “So! Uh, let’s agree that this never ever happened. And um, I appreciate that you were there for me – but like yeah, as friends! Cool, right?” You rambled nervously, not wanting to glance as he took a seat at the counter.

When he nodded and let out a laugh, you sighed in relief. “Yeah, yeah… You sure?” Peter asked, leaning into the counter, staring up at you. He felt so much bubblier today compared to the last few weeks and he knew his feelings for you would only triple now since last night.

And seeing you act this way made him feel bittersweet.

He knew you needed to move on completely before you ever thought about having a relationship with someone, especially himself. He knew to give you space, but it hurt to part after such a special night with you that he’s been dreaming about for so long.

When you restated your previous words, Peter found himself smiling still, although a bit less. He slid his hand over yours, hoping you knew that he would always be there for you. He didn’t want to admit it to himself again, having thought he slightly gotten over you a few years ago, but he knew he was falling in love once more.

“Okay, I’m down for pretending. Call me when you need me… or like whenever, I don’t care. I mean I do care! I want to spend more time with you, I- okay, I’ll stop there. But call me or text me soon.” Peter stumbled over his words, as if he were actually admitting his feelings to you. Once he was done, he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

You scratched your cheek as you nodded back to him, “Yeah, I will. Thank you, Peter.” You responded, realizing this was goodbye for a bit. He picked up his things, waving once more to you before walking out of the apartment.

You scrunched your eyebrows together, not remembering he brought that bag last night. But you quickly pushed the thought off when you saw him walk away from the building, through your window. You were left with a feeling that you couldn’t explain again, this time you knew it was something you had to confront sooner or later with Peter.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman smut #spiderman x y/n #avengers fanfiction #thank you for sending this in!#love y'all!#kidney9-9

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

You're the one // Damiano David // Playlist Series

words // 1248

warnings // none that i can see

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list go on the link and fill the form. part two to Drive. my shitty connection from last night is better today so it's a party lol.

i feel kind of bad that my longest fics are smut and everything else is smaller than that but I will try to change that hahah

request // yes

summary // Y/N is better since that drive around with Damiano. While both harbor feelings for each other, both are worried of confessing. Maybe a little nudge from they beauty of nature will give one of them the courage they need.

Not much changed since that late night. Y/N was still not very willing to open up but at least they would get out of that dark and saddening room they had, they’d keep it at least without trash all over. The tears would still come at night when the world was quiet and calm. There is something comforting about that time of day. The world around us is sleeping, there are no expectations, there are no explanations. Yes, it was easier to cry at night. When the owls are pretty much the only ones around to judge; well their little neighbourhood owl was never judgmental, it just sat outside Y/N's bedroom window on a tree, talking and in a sense calming them down.

The situation with Damiano was still a blur in their mind. The man would go in their room, and often, to make sure his love friend was feeling better. Sometimes he would bring food or drinks, always with the intention of keeping them distracted, a tactic that seemed to work perfectly fine on his friend. Other nights he’d sleep over, arms always open and willing to give comfort. Anything… He was willing to do anything to help.

The man knew he was willing to give his life for his friend, a person he very much wanted more than anyone in the world. When he went to bed and when he was out with his friends his mind would always wander back to Y/N, worrying about their well being. Do they want me to bring them something when I go home? Should I send them a text to see if they are ok? Are they crying again? Oh, they’d love that charm over there. I should buy it for them. Everything, his whole universe revolved around Y/N and it took him a second to realise that, although his thoughts layed unspoken, still.

"Come on, carino, let's go, " whined Damiano, attempting to get Y/N out of the house.

"Dami, I told you not today…"

"I have another offer,” he giggled deviously, picking them up and off the bed.

“Damiano put me down this instant!” The words fell on deaf ears as the man had no intention to do such thing, instead walking to the yard.

It was not much but the fresh air and the life of things around them was calming, loving even. “See? It’s not that bad, cucciolo. We can sit here, Ethan has bought some beers -he’ll be fine if we steal two.” And he was right. A beer, a view and Damiano was a perfect remedy to a heartbreak, as crazy as it sounds.

No matter how much they refused to let themselves believe it, Y/N has been starting to get feelings for Damiano, feelings that maybe were there before, but very, very, well hidden that even they could not see.

But no, no Y/N, you can’t feel like this. Damiano is your friend, one of your oldest friends, you can not feel like this. Plus, he would never see you like that. Did you not see your ex- But he said- It does not matter what he said when you were breaking down in his arms. He could never see you like-

“Are you feeling alright?” It’s like he could sense the negative thoughts they were coming, he spoke at the perfect time. Y/N simply nodded yes before looking away into the sky.

It was beautiful at this time. The sun was going to set soon so there were these beautiful purple colors mixed all around. It was relaxing, healing almost, to look at that beautiful show of nature, enough to make you fall in love, or at least to admit it.

Damiano chose to not question it again, for the time being, instead he sat there, alternating his gaze from his love to the sky and back again. To be frank he was dying in that silence between the two. There were too many things he practically wanted to scream but he knew the time was not right. He knew they were not over what happened, they were still hurt from the recently broken relationship they went through. So he refrained from making a move, at least not something big.

“Hey, Y/N?” They only hummed in response, turning their head around to meet Damiano’s. “Why don’t you come sit closer?”

A soft smile adorned their face at the words, their actions giving an answer to the man. Y/N said nothing. They only took their chair and moved closer to him, a comforting feeling falling between them, one that Damiano took advantage of, taking Y/N’s hand in his very own, holding it close and even rubbing it affectionately.

Even then none of the two said anything. They just sat there in the silence, hands intertwined, feeling at peace for a second.

But Y/N’s face could show how they were not at peace. The thoughts from before jumped back to the front of their mind, overtaking the peaceful scenery with emotions of agony and self pity. It simply was not possible, in Y/N’s mind, for Damiano to actually care. And why would he? I’ve been nothing but a pain this whole time. But that could not have been further than the truth.

“You are not ok, Y/N. You’re thinking too much. What are you thinking?”

This time his question was answered with words, in a rare moment of bravery, Y/N spoke up, “What if- what if I told you I-uh-I like you?” They questioned, eyes cast to the floor.

Damiano was taken aback by the question. Did they- were they professing their love or? He was unsure of how to feel and react to those words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing he would scare them away. He truly wished this was a confession, oh how he wishes it was. It would be like a dream come true to know that Y/N reciprocated his feelings, even if it was one third of the feelings he had, he’d sleep happy that night.

“Well,” he spoke after a while, “are you saying it?” Ah, yes, good job Damiano, you are being sarcastic, now they’ll think you’re mocking them.

“Perhaps,” voiced Y/N, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence in their speech, thinking that since they already made the first step they might as well be honest with him. “I am saying it.”

The man smiled, a smile that, to anyone expressing their feelings to him right now, would feel mocking. He has been waiting for something like this to happen for quite a while, and now that it happened right in front of his eyes he truly can not wrap his head around it. His silence was proven murderous to Y/N, that was already diving into the conclusion of what the man thought about it.

“I would say-” he mumbled, with a smile still on his face, “I’d say that I like you, too.”

There it was again; that shy little smile, the one that showed how truly content they were at the moment. The two love-struck people looking at each other with such adoration in their gazes, neither wanted this moment to end. They hoped it could last forever, but in the end, even if it did not, they had so many more moments like that to create and so much time to do it.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

@cheese-toastie-11

#måneskin headcanon #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #damiano david #damiano david imagine

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Our Hell // Charlie Gillespie

IN WHICH: Charlie asks the reader a simple question that leads the man to fall down a rabbit hole of reading. Despite the panic you felt along with your fellow writers you still introduced and helped him navigate the pool of fanfiction.

Warnings: None (it’s actually possible with me??)

Words: 1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist making a tiny blurb about the revelation that Charlie has read fanfiction, that he enjoyed reading it. I actually talked about how Owen and Charlie would react to jatp fanfiction so sorry for manifesting 😬

ALL FICS MENTIONED ARE TAGGED.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Your eyes slightly glanced up from your computer to where a certain someone was humming along to an Eagles song. His hips swayed as he slipped the egg in the pan, unaware of your eyes following him. He was entirely in his own world while he left you to finish up what he was led to believe was just school work.

The innate cheerful aura the male gave off regardless of the landscape had always been one of your favourite things about him. He saw the joy and good in things most people tended to overlook. It didn’t matter if he had his guitar in his hands or a cooking tool; he’d shoot that smile that melted your heart.

“Whatcha doin’?” Charlie questioned, peering over the island in the apartment you had rented in the city.

“Just doing some work.” You replied, beginning to type once more with a sudden burst of inspiration. You barely noticed he had slid the egg onto the plate before he was at your side.

“Are you writing for Tumblr?”

That one sentence froze you. Fingers stiffened above the well-loved keyboard of your computer you’d invested a fair amount of money on. Goosebumps swarmed every inch of your skin that suddenly lost a few shades.

Your skittish gaze found purchase in the warm ocean of hazel that bore no judgment, “Did you just say Tumblr? H-how do you know Tumblr Charlie?”

The Canadian hummed in response with a thoughtful expression, “I saw this really cool artwork, and it had a link. I followed it to Tumblr. It’s such a cool site.”

“It’s a hell site.” You deadpanned at the young actor who held no contempt for the different creativity methods unleashed in the fandom. Your e/c irises stayed stuck in a battle of colour with his own eyes.

“If it’s a hell site, why do you go on it?”

“It’s like a car crash or a burning building. It’s horrifying, but you stay to see which outcome ends up winning.” You had to carefully find the words to eloquently describe why you kept returning to a site that was frustrating at times.

“There’s so much diversity from songs, traditional art, poems, dances, covers and now writing. It’s insane.” Charlie chucked as he nudged the plate of breakfast he’d cooked for you, “I’m really digging the ‘90s Lalex books-”

“Fanfics. Fics for short.” You offered the man who held a slight expression of confusion that quickly cleared up, “And the writing has been going on since the series dropped. I’d be rich for every fic that referenced Luke’s aversion to sleeves.”

The boisterous laugh filled the room as Charlie hunched over. His arms wrapped around his midsection.

“Don’t you find it weird that there are fics about you?”

“Weird?” Charlie spoke, scrunching up his nose adorably. His hazel eyes lightened further, “Y/N, I’m not weirded out. I’m honoured that I made enough impact to have people writing about me.”

A small smile broke across your face, “You totally have a secret account, don’t you?”

“No. NO.” The whisper come in the dark of the bedroom where both sides of the couple should be sleeping. You had been before Charlie whined with his phone attached to his hand.

“Baby?” You groaned, turning to find him still invested in the world of fanfiction. His hazel eyes, tear-filled, raised to meet yours, “What are you doing up at-3am?”

“I just finished reading this adorable fic about Willex. The euphoria had me reading the next fic without reading the summary.” Charlie cried to the bedside light you’d turned when his sniffles woke you up. The near distraught man didn’t fight as you gently took his face out of his hand.

“Oh, Char.” You hummed, bringing the brunette into your arms as he mourned whatever was in the fic.

“Luke died with his girlfriend waiting in the Orpheum. She lived and began a life with Bobby..er Trevor.” Charlie whispered against the soft comforter you’d only recently bought, “They never got to say goodbye. As Luke’s portrayer, I just know the double betrayal took him to his knees.”

“Ah, you found @losttinwritings ‘See you Again’. That one is a doozy.” You winced, remembering the heartbreaker, “You, however, need sleep.”

Charlie’s eyes quickly met the phone sitting in between you two, “But-”

“Here.” You handed over your own phone after clicking your secondary account, “It’s one of my all-time comfort fics when I’m feeling sad. @dream-a-little-bigger-x always nails it out of the park but ‘Love Shack’? Immaculate.”

Charlie’s eyes flickered between the phone in his hand to your eyes twinkling in the albeit shitty lighting the cheap lamp offered. The vulnerability in your eyes at offering your blog took his breath away. This was a place where you were safe in your thoughts with no judgment.

“Oh! And @cherrymaybank created ‘A Romantic’. A beautiful story in the eyes of a hopeless romantic Luke and the stoic, independent reader.” You offered with a grin and sigh of happiness, “I’ll have to start tagging you in the ones I adore. Definitely gonna introduce you to @merceret’s work; it’s always amazing regardless of how long the fic is or the distance between work. I’d wait a thousand years for her.”

Charlie’s lips spread to reveal that smile that always had you falling back in love over and over again. It even eased the panic you felt viewing Charlie’s rather honest confession he put on his Insta story. He’d caused panic within the writing community as he boldly announced his pride, awe, joy and love for all the fandom provided creatively.

Next thing you knew, you’d started sending each other fics you’d think the other would enjoy; it often ended up with the same fic being sent. Charlie didn’t address the topic publicly to allow the buzz of panic to die down. He also never discovered your personal writing blog either, well, that you knew about.

Sometimes you’d find him sniffling over a story where Luke discovers his girlfriend was unknowingly pregnant and never got to see him child grow up. That one also tore your heart apart and you’d been the one to write it. Just a secret you’d be taking to your grave.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102 @thesweetestsinner @merceret @imsydneywalker @sunsetcurvej @nicoledawson5604 @merceret @kexrtiz @biqherosix @lukewearingbeanies @dangersolns @soverignparker

#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp fanfic #jatp luke #luke patterson imagines #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie imagine #caitsy and ash productions

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shuahoonie · 3 years

Text

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form

Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

Suga, We’re Going Down

Part 1

masterlist

Because, my darlings, I have no impulse control and Yoongi demanded to be written. I’m going to see if I can balance between SW and this, alternate releasing chapters for each story, but we’ll see. The title is a working title. don’t know if I’ll stick with it. I’m open to suggestions. Enjoy, my lovlies! It was a blast to write!-- Chaotic puff

here’s a link to the song the MC plays in this chapter!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrKjywjo7Q

Yoongi didn’t go to events like this. He was a professional, but even professionals got blocks sometimes, and he was having a block. He couldn’t seem to produce anything new. He had spent hours in his studio trying to come up with something, but the muse had abandoned him. He needed to get out of his head, to get out of the studio for a while.

That was how he ended up sitting through a university showcase watching young, aspiring musicians present their skills. It was a far more classical feel than he used in his music. He was a rap god. He didn’t really use Debussy and Mozart in his work. But there was something amusing about watching all the fresh faced youths taking their showcase so seriously. Most of them would never be serious musicians. They would never play for a national symphony, but the way they all looked it was as if they were playing for some great orchestra or symphony instead of a small college showcase was amusing. It was all so serious, all so insignificant.

He was bored with it. Bored with the overly perfect renditions of the same songs that people had been playing for decades. Where was the feeling? Where was the passion? They were all just clinically passing through the motions for a grade. None of them would make serious musicians, not playing the way they did.

He was about to leave when the first strains of the cello caught his attention. It was the first real emotion he had heard from any of them. His eyes snapped to the stage to see a pair of girls. One was seated at the piano while the other was sat on a solitary chair with a cello before her. Both of them were as perfectly put together as every other student that had gone before them had been, black dresses and not a hair out of place.

He ignored the pianist in the favor of the cellist. Her eyes were closed as she played the rest of her face serene. She was completely at peace even though the song she played showed a deep sorrow. The song was just as recognizable as every other piece that had been played that night. The only difference was the musician.

She was lovely, pale and fragile under the stage lights, but there was also something almost unbearably sad about her, and it showed in her playing. The piece itself was already melancholy, but the way she played it was nearly heartbreaking. Her hair was pulled back in a neat updo that left her face clear for his perusal. Even with her eyes closed her face was filled with emotion. The simple string of pearls around her neck highlighted its curve, its swan like quality. Everything about her was simple, classic, graceful as she played.

He looked through the program he had been given when he’d first arrived searching for the song, searching for a name, her name. There is it was. The Swan composed by Camille Saint-Saens played by Kang Y/N and accompanied by Guem Nina. Kang Y/N. The name rang through his head carried by the melody she played. Beautiful. Beautiful and sad just like the song she played, just like her.

The song passed by too quickly for his liking. Before he knew it she was pulling her bow across the strings for the final time. Both musicians bowed to the audience before disappearing backstage and out of his sight. The spell was broken, but Yoongi still wanted to know more. Who was she? Why was she so sad? Why had she chosen that song? Yoongi wanted to know it all. The thought of her sent inspiration running through him. The fire was lit again telling him to create, to compose, for her.

He wanted to know what she would think of his music. Did she listen to rap? More specifically, did she listen to him? Or did she prefer classical music like the kind she had just played? Did she play any other instruments? Did she sing? How would the cello sound intertwined with his own style of music? He wanted to know the answer to all of these questions and so many more, but first he had to find her. Kang Y/N. His new muse.

So he sent out a bodyguard to find out everything about her that he could. Perhaps he should have felt guilty sending out a man to practically stalk the girl and bring him information on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about the invasion of her privacy. She consumed him, filling his thoughts. He wanted her near him. He wanted to hear her play, wanted to wipe the sadness from her features, and he was determined to do just that. She was meant to be his, and he wouldn’t rest until she was.

Y/N was unaware of the thoughts coursing through his head as she was backstage tucked into a broom closet peeling herself out of her dress and the uncomfortable heels in favor of a pair of ripped jeans and a comfy sweater. She let her hair down from its tight confines and secured it in a loose pony tail. She loved playing, but stepping out on stage was always nerve wracking for her. The dresses and the perfectly put together faces never seemed like her. She wasn’t fancy or elegant. She was just… her. She didn’t even own the cello she had just played. She could never afford such a beautiful instrument. It belonged to the school.

She had had the cello on loan so long as she participated in the university orchestra, but that deal could no longer be upheld on her end. Family and financial obligations would no longer allow it. They were barely making ends meet as it was. She didn’t have the time to spend at rehearsals and practices when she needed to be focusing on her studies and working. Even her studies would have to take a back seat if their fortunes didn’t take a turn for the better soon.

It was just her, her grandmother, and her baby nephew, well no longer quite a baby. He was going to be three before she knew it. Her mother had taken off years ago. She flew in and out of their lives whenever it suited her usually when she wanted someone from them. Her father, bless him, couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. He was a dreamer. He sat at home most days contemplating the great questions of life like some sort of great philosopher. Most times he was drunk when he did this. She thanked god that he wasn’t violent drunk. His head was in the clouds more than else when he was drunk. Her sister, well no one really knew where Ha Jin was. She had taken off after the baby was born. She’d left Eun Jae with her and their grandmother, and she’d disappeared into the wind just like their mother had.

Part of her wanted to blame her little sister, to scream to the high heavens that it wasn’t fair that she was too young to be responsible for a child, but so was Ha Jin. She had been a child when she’d gotten pregnant, just seventeen when the baby was born. She was far too young to be a mother. Y/N couldn’t blame her for not being ready to raise a child, but she could blame her for abandoning Eun Jae.

Eun Jae didn’t know his mother. As far as he was concerned Y/N was his mother. She and Halmeoni were his whole world, his whole family. Her father couldn’t be counted as any sort of parental figure. He couldn’t be counted as one for his own daughters much less for his grandson. She’d heard her grandmother curse on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless son. Y/N had cursed on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless father. But they had to work with what they were given, and this was the hand that fate had played them.

She had been eight when she’d figured out that both of her parents were useless. She’d been sixteen when she’d gotten her first part time job to help support the family. She’d been nineteen when she’d had to become a mother for her nephew. It was a shitty life, but it was hers.

Despite all the chaos Eun Jae had brought into the world, she wouldn’t trade him for anything. She loved that little boy more than life. He was her little angel, her light, the reason she was willing to sacrifice anything, to sacrifice everything. She may not have birthed him, but he was her son. He was the reason that she was sitting in a chicken place late in the evening a few days after the showcase with Nina. The pair of them were huddled over a phone making a profile on an app called sugarbebe.

“Are you sure about this?” Nina asked as they finalized her profile. “Maybe you could get another job.”

“I’m already working two jobs, along with school and practice, and Eun Jae. I can’t take on anything else.” She shook her head tiredly, glaring down at her phone in distaste. “We need the money.”

“What are you going to tell Halmeoni?” Nina questioned brows furrowed worriedly.

“I’m not going to tell Halmeoni anything. She thinks I’m looking for another job to take the place of orchestra.”

“And she’s okay with that?”

“No.” She laughed recalling the look on her grandmother’s face when she had told her that she was quitting orchestra. “She’s pissed at me. Says I’m wasting my God given talent, and that I’ll end up like my mom and my father and my sister if I’m not careful.”

“Harsh.” The other girl cringed knowing full well just how scary Y/N’s grandmother could be. “I still can’t believe it was your last concert.”

“It was only a showcase. Forget orchestra. Halmeoni said all that, and I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of giving up school to help with the bills.”

Nina’s eyes widened almost comically. “She’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah. I know.” She shuddered thinking of what her grandmother would do to her if she did quit school to help. It would not be a pretty picture. “I think she’d beat me black and blue with her favorite soup ladle.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t find out, and let’s hope you find yourself a rich sugar daddy.” Nina raised her glass in a mock toast, and Y/N raised hers as well.

“Here’s hoping.”

They pressed the button submitting her profile on the app. It was too late to back out now. If she was lucky whoever chose her wouldn’t be too old or perverted. With any luck he wouldn’t be ugly either, but that was asking a lot and she didn’t hold that much hope. She’d be lucky if the guy wasn’t too much of a creep.

They both stared down at the phone in shock as it chimed, the banner announcing that she had a match on sugarbebe. Neither of them had expected anything quite that soon.

“Well, open it! What does it say? Who did you match with?” Nina asked excitedly eyes taking up almost the whole of her face with how wide they were.

She tapped on her phone opening the profile. MYG. No picture. Age twenty-seven. A producer. There wasn’t much information, but there was a message from the man asking to meet in person.

Nina looked over her shoulder frowning as she examined the profile as well. “He doesn’t have much information does he?”

“He wants to meet.”

“When?”

“Friday.” She gulped suddenly filled with nerves. It was all becoming so real. “He’s wants to meet on Friday at D-2.”

They both knew D-2. Every young person in the city knew it. It was the hottest club in Seoul at the moment, made even hotter by the fact it was owned by the king of rap himself, Agust D. To get into D-2 you either had to be rich, famous, or willing to wait in atrociously long lines and tipping the bouncer an outrageous amount of money wouldn’t hurt your chances either.

“D-2?” Nina gasped practically ripping the phone out of her hand to read the message herself. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Do you have anything to wear?”

It was a good question. She really didn’t have anything that could be considered worthy of a place like D-2. Nothing she owned was really sexy. It was mostly comfy sweaters, jeans, and cute skirts. Things she could wear to school and work and were comfortable enough to chase a toddler around in. None of those would be appropriate for the club. Neither would any of the dresses she used for concerts. And the look on her face clearly conveyed that to Nina.

“You can borrow something of mine.” She assured gently patting her friend’s arm. “Maybe he won’t be so bad?”

“Maybe.” She agreed nervously.

“You can borrow that purple dress of mine. I can lend you some earrings too.” Nina offered sending her a reassuring smile. “At least you know if he’s meeting you at D-2 he’s gotta be rich.”

Y/N smiled back nervously. “I’m just hoping he’s not too much of a creep. Eun Jae is supposed to be with me at the apartment on Friday. Do you think you could babysit? If I ask Halmeoni to keep him at the restaurant she’ll ask questions.”

She had a small apartment close to campus that she stayed at normally. Eun Jae would bounce between the apartment and the family home with Halmeoni. It was good for him to be out of the house and away from her father sometimes, and it allowed her to keep Eun Jae close. She saw him often enough as she worked at Halmeoni’s restaurant, but on the weekends he would stay with her at the apartment. She’d take him back to Halmeoni’s on Sunday evening, and they’d both stay the night. Halmeoni would watch him during the week while she had classes, practice, and work, and Halmeoni lived closer to the preschool they were sending him to. She hated being away from him so much, but it was the best they could do for the moment.

“Of course I’ll watch Jae-ah.” Nina smiled. “You know I love the little guy. I’m his favorite auntie.”

“You’re his only auntie.”

“Technically, you’re his aunt.”

“Well unless Ha Jin suddenly shows up with a maternal instinct, I’m all he’s got in the mom department.”

“Poor kid.” Nina cringed teasingly.

“Hey.” Y/N shoved her shoulder playfully. “I’m a great mom.”

“You’re okay at it.” The other girl dodged another hit. “I mean, he does have a sugar baby for a mom.”

“First of all, rude. Second, it’s only until we get our heads above water again, and then never again. This will all be a bad memory.”

Nina squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll actually have a good time.”

“I really don’t think so, but how bad could it be?” It wasn’t going to be forever, and she could put up with anything to help her family, for Eun Jae.

part 2

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts yoongi #bts suga #min yoongi #suga #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #rapper yoongi #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #yandere #fanfic #bts fanfic

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Trying to Hold On

Summary: You’re determined to get Natasha back.

Warning: Angst

Part 2

******

It’s lost on you how long you sit on your couch staring at the framed picture of you and Natasha on your coffee table.

Even though you’re aware of all the time you spent with Wanda, you can’t place when exactly it had become too much for Natasha.

After having dated secretly for two years the woman was ready to introduce you to her team despite your anxiety at doing so. Even though they all seemed like great people, your introverted self had no plans to seek out a close friendship with any of them, figuring you’d see them whenever Natasha took you to the compound.

She’s the one who encouraged you to keep talking to Wanda. Apparently the brunette had mentioned how nice you were to your girlfriend and Natasha took that and ran with it, telling you that you and Wanda would be good friends and it wouldn’t hurt to get close with her teammate.

Now she’s more than upset with you because you’re doing what she wanted you to do.

You wipe your tears and sit up.

It’s not right to even remotely blame Natasha. This was all your doing.

At the time you didn’t give it much thought. It was just you and Wanda hanging out, nine times out of ten you were talking about Natasha. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters now is getting your girlfriend back.

Knowing that she’s still upset and might be for a while you give it a day and a half. It would’ve been two but the emptiness of your bed, and apartment in general, was becoming too much already. Not waking up with Natasha hurt and you’re not willing to let that happen any longer.

You take a much needed shower and caffeinate yourself before leaving out.

On the way to the compound you stop and buy a bouquet of Natasha’s favorite flowers: peonies.

Luckily for you the gate is open, saves you the possibility of being turned away before you’ve even tried.

Surprisingly, it seems pretty damn empty when you step up into the living quarters of the facility. You aren’t even sure if this is where Natasha is but it’s what you have to start with.

“Uh hello?” You call from the front door.“ Any Avengers present? I’m looking for Natasha.”

Nerves rush through your system when you realize how incredibly stupid this was. They’re the Avengers and you pop up? There is no stopping a vibranium shield or repulsor beam should they see you as a threat.

“Damnit FRIDAY what did I say about letting fans in.” The familiar voice of Tony Stark greets you and you tense.

The billionaire, while intimidating enough, is very close with Natasha. Everyone is, if they know that you hurt her there’s a chance they’ll kick your ass.

“Not a fan. Well, I am, but um I’m Natasha’s-” shoulders dropping you realize how untrue that may be,“ I hope I’m still her girlfriend.”

Tony comes closer, his frown clear,“ oooohh, the girlfriend. Y/N right? Natasha didn’t tell anyone you were coming by.”

So she didn’t say anything.

“Y/N.” Wanda’s voice joins and you quickly look over at her.

“Hey Wan, do you know where Natasha is?”

“She didn’t stay with you last night?”

“No, we ended up fighting and she left.” You say dejectedly.

Tony sucks in a breath through clenched teeth,“ explains why she didn’t come back last night.”

Your gaze snaps to him,“ she isn’t here?”

With a shake of his head he leaves, telling you he hopes things work out before he’s gone.

Wanda steps closer to you,“ was your fight because of me?”

“No.” You’re quick to say.“ Not at all. It was mainly about me being a shitty girlfriend. I wasn’t spending enough time with her and not thinking at all about how she would feel if I spent so much time with you.”

Your friend offers to cheer you up and brainstorm a plan to apologize but you decline, instead heading back to your empty apartment where you dial Natasha.

Of course she doesn’t answer, nor does she respond to the text(s) you send.

In fact it’s silent on her end for the next week.

You pushed through your worry and heartbreak long enough to get through your work days only to immediately repark your ass on the sofa and try contacting her again. On top of phone calls and texts you’d had a couple dozen flowers sent to the compound, as well as a giant stuffed Bunny.

Tony is probably annoyed with you but you have a bigger fish to fry.

Today you decide to just go there. It’s been over a week and you two need to talk. Even if she isn’t there you plan to find out where she is.

You two have to figure this out. Even if she doesn’t forgive you, the both of you need closure on what this means.

When you get to the compound this time the gate is closed so you have to buzz in. It’s Tony who let’s you through.

“Kid the big bunny was genius.” Is the first thing he says to you, giving his fingers a chef’s kiss.

“I figured you’d be annoyed with all the stuff I was sending.”

He waves you off,“ nah, I’ve done way more for Pepper. This barely scratching the surface.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Natasha isn’t here by chance is she?”

“No she,” his eyebrows raise,“ is right there actually.”

You turn to follow where he’s pointing to see Natasha walking into the compound. Her name isn’t even out of your mouth before she’s shouldering past you.

This isn’t going to be easy, not that you were counting on that.

Smiling gratefully at Tony, you take off after Natasha. The woman moves quick when she wants to.

“I know you’re mad but making me run is just cruel.” You huff, having to jog to keep up with her.

You make a note in your head to get in shape.

“Natasha for fuck sake just listen to me and stop being so goddamn stubborn.”

She reels on you, effectively stopping you in your tracks,“ I’m just here to pack and bag and go. I didn’t ask you to come here so you can leave.”

“You didn’t ask but you haven’t responded to my calls or texts. You could’ve just told me you were oaky at least. And I’m not leaving because we need to talk, just hear me out. I-”

The woman goes to walk away but you aren’t having it.

Being the idiot that you are, you grab the highly trained assassin by the arm and push her against the wall, only for her to grab your hand, get out of your hold, and slam you into the wall.

There’s definitely going to be a bruise on your cheek but you don’t care.

“If you want to beat me up fine,” you speak despite your face being smushed into the surface,“ but at least listen to me first.”

Her grip barely loosens, only enough to let you adjust your face so your words aren’t muffled.

“Natasha sorry obviously isn’t enough but I don’t know how else to express it. I know now how shitty of me it was to seemingly put Wanda before you but that was never the case. You always are and will always be my number one priority, I just, well, you know I don’t have friends, not real ones anyway and you’re my first real relationship, I didn’t know how to handle that at first.”

Finally she lets you go, moving herself to the other side of the hallway but not leaving. You take a deep breath and turn around to face her.

“Look, I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you to see me spending so much time with Wanda. To my defense you never said anything and you told me you weren’t the jealous type so-”

She interrupts,“ that doesn’t give you the right to flirt with some other girl.”

“No but it doesn’t help my cluelessness either. Besides we never flirted, ever. Mine and Wanda’s relationship never stepped outside of platonic. Tasha half the time we were talking about you. With how much I love you and how much Wanda looks up to you there was barely room for any other topic.”

Her green eyes roll,“ so you two in the kitchen the night I got back. You were laughing at me?”

“Yes.” No point in lying, she’s already mad at you.“ I was missing you like crazy so she came over to keep me company until you got back and gave me the idea to fix you dinner. We started joking about how bad of a cook you are and hadn’t even started the meal before you showed up.”

When she doesn’t reply, instead watching you, you get a bit hopeful.

Only for her to walk away. Instead of giving up, you follow after her.

“Tasha please, you can be made all you want but don’t throw our relationship away over one stupid mistake I made. You’re the best thing that’s ever-”

Her sudden halt in movement has you crashing into her firm back. As opposed to her stumbling forward you stumble back. The woman’s practically a wall of muscle, one of the many things you adore about her body.

Whatever she mumbles, you don’t hear it. She steps further into the room and turns to you. The look on her face makes you frown and follow after.

Every bouquet you bought sits in a glass vase covering every surface of her room, and the big bunny you bought sits in the corner of her bed.

This isn’t how you planned it to look, not by a long shot, but it seems Tony just put all the stuff you’d ordered for her in here. It leaves the room looking like one big romantic gesture.

“Did you do this?” She asks you.

“No. Not really. I mean I bought this stuff but I had nothing to do with this set up, admittedly I should have, it looks much better than it does in my head. Actually I thought you’d been throwing the flowers away but you weren’t here and so-”

Despite still being a little mad at you, the woman can’t fight the bemused smile on her face,“ you’re such a dork.” She chuckles.

You stop your rambling to look at her. Seeing that smile you love so much on her lips makes you smile. With this better mood you try one more time.

Stepping closer, you grab her hands,“ I never meant to make you feel less important than Wanda or like I didn’t care because I do, I care so much, and I love you more than I could ever speak to. My actions hurt you and I’m so so sorry for that but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you just give me a chance. Just one.”

Her silence is unsettling. The hairs on your arms stand up in your nervousness.

“That’s not necessary.” She shakes her head,“ I shouldn’t have overreacted. You did hurt me and I was jealous of the time you spent with Wanda but I never should’ve even implied you were cheating on me.”

“Wait so you forgive me?”

Natasha can’t help but roll her eyes.“ Yes and I’m also apologizing.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” You waste no time in pulling her into your arms.“ Just promise to communicate with me. I genuinely had no idea you felt the way you did.”

The woman hold you close, arms wrapping around you as she buries her face in the crook of your neck,“ I promise.”

“God I missed you.” You speak into her hair.“ I am never letting you go again.”

******

taglist: @wildhoney32 @thelastavenger-3000 @fayhar

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #reader insert

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