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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with. Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

#bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #the gentlemen #tgm #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

Note

Hello there :D I hope you are having a very plesant day I saw you are accepting requests so I would love to request one. May I ask for the prompt 21 with the loml wanda please :) please and thank you so much:D

Aye it's been a hot minute. Wanda is also the loml. She's so cute for what?

"I haven't seen them smile like that in ages."

Count: ~600

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Miss Maximoff! I can't reach the paints!"

"I'll be right there, Ayla!" Wanda called back. She turns to you and gives you an apologetic smile.

"It's fine, go on," you give her an encouraging smile.

Wanda gets up and starts running when she sees Ayla beginning to climb the cupboard in an attempt to reach the shelf.

"She's got her hands full, doesn't she?"

You turn to Natasha and smile. The two of you decided to meet up with Wanda for lunch. After Wanda had lost Pietro, things had been hard.

Hard wasn't even the right word to describe it. Some days it felt like you had lost Wanda right along with Pietro. As much as you loved Wanda, there were some things you couldn't fix and make it better.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "Wanda comes home with paint splattered on her all the time. She acts annoyed but I think she secretly likes it."

The two of you watch Wanda sit down with the young girl, helping her squeeze paint out onto a tray.

"Miss Maximoff, I want to make the colour purple!" Ayla smiled at Wanda, a tooth missing in her grin that made Wanda bite her bottom lip.

"Alright, are you sure you don't want to just grab the purple paint?" Wanda asked gently.

"No," Ayla shook her head. "That purple is ugly. You make really pretty purples. I need a pretty purple to draw my elephant!"

"Your elephants going to be purple?" Wanda giggled.

"Yes," Ayla said indignantly. "If you can shoot red thingies out of your hand, then elephants can be purple!"

You actually have you bring your hand to your mouth to cover your laugh, but Natasha has no qualm about openly laughing.

Ayla looks over at them and grins her missing tooth grin at them.

"That's very fair," Wanda rolls her eyes light-heartedly.

The two paint together while you and Natasha watch silently. It isn't long before the two are having a paint fight, and you internally grumble about having to wash the paint out of Wanda's clothes again.

Truthfully, you don't really mind.

"I'm glad you found this job for her," Natasha says softly. "I haven't seen her smile like that in ages."

Your eyes trail over Wanda's face. There are hints of grief still underneath, but Wanda smiling so wide, and her eyes are crinkled at the side. Her nose does this adorable thing where it wrinkles slightly as well when she smiles unrestrained.

"She's great with kids," you agree.

"Thinking about having kids of your own with her?" Natasha snickers. "not sure if she could make that happen, but I bet Wanda would be happy to try."

You throw a used napkin at Natasha, who cackles.

"C'mon," you roll your eyes. "Let's go join them. I bet I could draw a better lion than you."

Natasha gasps, "You're about to eat my pencil shavings!" She gets up and walks over to the shelf to get more paper and drawing materials.

You get up and make your way over to Wanda, who has purple paint streaked across her nose and cheek.

"Hm," you grin plottingly at them, winking at Ayla. "This is a pretty purple."

"I told you, Miss Maximoff," Ayla says matter-of-factly.

Wanda rolls her eyes. "I'm quite sure I agreed with you, there was no need to test the paint on my face."

Ayla grinned innocently.

The way Wanda smiles is simply too much for you. Your heart swells, and before you know it, you're leaning over to capture Wanda's lips.

Ayla scrunches her nose. "Ugh, ew."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #mm.drabble.wanda

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cotton-tails · 3 years

Text

So I saw this last night, and the little angsty plot bunny in my head woke up and I just had to write something. Fully intended to be a drabble of sorts, but of course it turned into a four page tear-fest, so grab the tissues and strap in.

Oh, and I haven't edited this, it's just 3am word-vomit, so enjoy the mess!

“So, this hasn’t exactly gone to plan.”

Della snorts cheerlessly at Donald’s deadpan comment, struggling into a sitting position and wincing at a twinge in her elbow. The chains dig into her arms with every movement, a very clear upgrade from the ropes they’d all been able to break out of within several minutes not too long ago. These idiots don’t know who they’re messing with.

Or they do; probably a little too well, hence the plan that fell apart very quickly. And the chains. And the scary looking red lightning below them.

“Shut up!” Heron snaps behind them, cuffing Donald a little too roughly around the head.

He doesn’t react more than a sharp hiss and a dark glare behind him, and Della can’t help the sharp pang of guilt under the surge of anger. She bites back a comment, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground until the villain is out of earshot.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, keeping her voice low.

“What? Why?” Donald sounds confused but she can’t bring herself to look at him.

“You should be with Daisy right now,” she says, “I’m the one who guilted you into staying, into coming on this stupid trip. And now we’re facing the very real possibility of dying.”

Donald is quiet.

Forcing herself to look up, she frowns at the look on his face. He still doesn’t say anything, but the expression says it all; ‘Della-you-absolute-idiot-what-are-you-blathering-on-about?’

“I came on this stupid trip cause our kids were in trouble,” he hisses eventually, “my family were in trouble! You think I wouldn’t ditch my vacation in a heartbeat for any of you?”

“I-” Della starts, but her voice catches, rendering her utterly speechless. He’s not lying, she knows exactly what he would do for the family, for her. Yet, somehow that knowledge isn’t exactly helping.

She misses her chance to reply, all conversation cut off with the explosive arrival of Scrooge and Bradford through the roof.

Della clenches her fist and almost bites through the inside of her cheek as he slams to the ground. She manages to chime out a ‘Hey Uncle Scrooge,’ with Donald when his pained gaze finds them. Beakley mutters a sarcastic ‘Fantastic,’ from her other side. She can only watch as a now armoured Bradford, armed with the sword, picks him up by the back of his coat and drags him up the stairs. He’s blathering on about something, but she’s stopped listening; too busy focusing on her battered and beaten uncle and how this could have gone so completely and utterly wrong.

It’s the usual spiel anyway, threats to destroy his family, his adventures, everything he had worked for, blah blah blah.

Then the contract is revealed, and her stomach drops to somewhere around her knees. If they don’t find a way out soon, Scrooge will have to either sign his life away or they all die, and frankly, neither option sound particularly appealing.

It’s only when Bradford sacrifices his own agents that the desperateness of the situation really sinks in. It’s one thing to talk about murder, it’s entirely another to actually do it. And if Bradford is willing to throw away his own agents, Della can’t imagine what he would be willing to do to her family if Scrooge doesn’t sign.

He tries to buy some time. Della can almost hear the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out how to get out of this one. She huffs out a half-hearted laugh at the sharp quip about the fine-print. He’d figure something out, he always does. Not to mention the kids are bound to have found a way out by now, they’d pick up the rest of their allies and be on their way to disrupt the whole evil plan.

It’s just a matter of-

“Ugh! Enough stalling!”

Never mind.

“You need some incentive.”

Della does not like where this is going.

“Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

The three of them snap their heads forward as Bradford stalks towards them, sword dragging on the concrete threateningly. As the screeching rings in Della’s ears, the only thought racing through her mind is ‘not Donnie, not Donnie, please, don’t take my brother.’

Her heart almost stops when he scoops Donald up by his collar, his cry echoing in her ears.

“Donald!” Three voices scream.

She can barely breathe, crippling panic bubbling up inside. All she wants to do is close her eyes and scream, break these chains and drag him back to safety, but she can’t move, she can’t take her eyes off her twin as he’s dangled over the edge.

“What will it be Scrooge? Adventure? Or your Family?”

‘Just do what he wants!’ She’s not ashamed of the thought. They’ll figure out a way to reverse the contract, there’s always a way, always a loophole. Just do it so she can see her brother safely on solid ground.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

She can’t say she’s surprised at how quickly he gives in.

“No! Don’t!” Donald screams, “find a way out! You can beat him!”

The pen is already in his hand. “It’s not worth the risk lad.”

They can only watch in horror at the golden glow that circles around him, lifting him up and binding him with unbreakable chains that drag him to the ground.

“I did it!” Bradford crows triumphantly. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Della’s heart breaks just a little at the look of absolute misery on her old uncle’s face, but she doesn’t have time to mourn properly, because Bradford is talking. Again.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in such petty villainy,” he says, his gaze turning back to Donald, still dangling over the edge, with a glint in his eye that makes Della’s blood run cold. “But since this is a special occasion.”

He lets go.

Della’s eyes meet Donald’s for an agonising second, and then he’s gone.

There’s a flash of red, and someone is screaming.

She doesn’t even realise it’s her until a rough hand knocks her back.

“Shut it! Or it’ll be you next!”

Hot tears stream down her beak and she presses her forehead into the cold concrete, not even bothering to choke back a sob. Over the pounding of her own taunting heartbeat in her ears, she hears the sound of the machine powering down (‘Too late’ her traitorous mind provides), of her kids voices yelling something, and Scrooge shouting for them to be careful.

And Bradford, confused and angry as her family finally, finally step in to save the day.

His voice sets off something inside that she hadn’t felt since the day Lunaris betrayed her. A raging anger that burns through her, overwhelming any other emotion and completely taking over her mind.

The chains are no longer an obstacle, and even Beakley can’t stop her from launching herself at the buzzard. They tumble down the stairs, fists flying and feet kicking. Everything blurs after that, which may or may not be a side effect of a rather painful bump on the head as they hit the ground at the bottom of the staircase. She’s kicked off, then it’s just a cloud of lights and bodies and a strong arm holding her back from doing anything overly-reckless and potentially stupid.

The kids, her (their) beautiful, wonderful kids, figure out the loophole and the ever-binding contract disintegrates.

It’s done.

The maniacal villain is defeated once more. The world has returned to rights and the sounds of celebration fill the air.

But Della can only stand and watch, her hands trembling and eyes burning. Beakley stands behind her, hands hovering just behind her shoulders, ready to give comfort if needed.

He’s gone.

Her brother, the other half of her soul; just… gone.

And… oh.

Her knees buckle, a wrecked sob forcing its way from her throat. Beakley catches her with a arm round the shoulders and a hand under her elbow, lowering her gently to the ground as she crumples into a ball. She presses her hands to her eyes in a hopeless attempt to stem the tears as everything comes crashing down.

“It’s okay, let it out dear.”

He shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve been on that amazing adventure with Daisy, sailing together on that old houseboat. After everything life had thrown at him, after all the madness they’d been through, he’d finally caught a break, finally found that amazing person who loved him as fiercely as he loved her.

Then Della had come along, crying about lost time and not being ready. She hadn’t wanted to him to leave, even on a stupid vacation that he would very clearly be coming back from.

Now he wouldn’t even get the chance to go.

And it’s all her fault.

“Mom?”

The obvious confusion and concern in Huey’s voice is enough to send her tumbling over the edge all over again, fresh tears springing up at the thought of having to explain what happened to her- to his kids.

Scrooge hurries them away, and she tries not to listen to the hushed explanation, the startled gasps, and she has to cover her ears for the rest. She can’t stand it.

It’s all her fault.

“DELLA!”

‘What?’

There’s no mistaking that voice.

Her head snaps up so fast she’s half sure she’s given herself whiplash. Even through blurred eyesight, she knows that silhouette, that outfit, that stupid hat. She blinks, sniffing and scrubbing at her face with her sleeve, hardly daring to believe.

It shouldn’t be possible, there’s no way it’s possible. She saw it, she saw him fall, saw the flash of lightning, the empty space where he had been only moments before. She watched her own brother die. So how was he standing ten feet in front of her, laughing as he’s tackled by several small and colourful blurs?

A hand appears in front of her face and she looks up into the stunned face of her uncle. He looks almost as much of a mess as she feels, tearstains tracking down his cheeks and spotting on his coat.

“I think it might be best if we just don’t question it,” he says, helping her to her feet.

His hands are shaking as he holds hers tightly, but she doesn’t comment; it can’t be any worse than her own trembling limbs. They turn back to Donald, who’s ended up sat on the floor under the collective weight of the kids. He’s got a tearful Louie on his shoulder and several kids wrapped around his torso as he struggles to his feet, and Della can see him mouthing a headcount as he takes them all in.

“I swear every time we see you, you have more children.”

She hadn’t even noticed Panchito and José just beside him, grins wide and eyes twinkling with amusement and, in José’s case, something else that she can’t quite place. Donald just laughs at Panchito’s observation, the sound sweet as honey and causing even more tears to well up all round. The pure relief that sweeps through her is almost enough to make her knees give way again, but Scrooge’s hand gripping hers and Beakley’s arm still around her shoulders is just enough to keep her grounded.

Then he catches her eye.

“Hey Dells.”

The kids must see something in her face, cause they have to good sense to dart out of the way just moments before Della hurls herself at her brother. They almost topple backwards, but Donald is able to keep them just about upright while Della just focuses on wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. His arms circle her waist, holding her just as tightly. The tears are streaming freely now, but she’s beyond caring. He can yell at her about ruining his shirt later and she’ll just take it with a grin.

“You idiot!” she yells, her voice muffled by his shoulder, “I thought you were dead!”

“For a minute, so did I,” he says into her hair, “how about we just call it even?”

The soft jibe only makes her laugh, and she holds him just that little bit tighter.

Miracles do happen, and in the end all that matters is love, family and adventure.

But if he thinks she’s going to let him go galivanting off on some adventure without her now, then he’d better think again.

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ssavanessa22 · 3 years

Text

BMO

BMO part 2

Parring: Spencer Reid x black fem reader!

Warnings: none I think but I if I missed something pls tell me!

Spencer and and the team have a family dinner at Rossi’s, Tara has invited her younger sister, and the team soon discover that boy wonder and Dr y/n Lewis have a lot in common

"Tara I promise you I'm not gonna be late I'm only a few minutes away I'll be there soon"

"Okay y/n you better be or your going to be the one to wake all this dishes at Rossi's"

"Yeah I'm not doing that I'll be there any second now"

Tara had decided to invite me to one of Rossi's infamous dinner parties, Tara and I haven't seen each other for 9 months since hat may not seem like a lot but we are extremely close so to us it feels like life time. She had already told me about her team numerous time but tonight my anxiety was running high these are the people excluding dad and I that she considers family and I don't want to make a fool of myself. Tara told me that the dress code was fancy extremely fancy and I don't have that kind of wardrobe so I had to buy a dress before I left for D.C.

For the evening I was wearing a strapless floor length blue gown gown. I paired this dress with black Stilettos.For my hair I decided to keep it my butterfly locs in that were black and long and fell to my mid back

Spencer POV

Tara had describe her younger sister as the life of the party always outgoing funny but nothing really else she only said that her and I would definitely get along, I mean I'm not really looking to get with someone right now but it would be nice to be friends with someone the same age as me and outside of the team.

Y/N’s POV

My cab had dropped me of right outside Rossi's house and I was awe of his house, really it was a mansion it was modern but still had a touch of character. I paid my fair and hot out the cab with my off the shoulder bag I walked up the stairs a gently knocked of the door. Tara opened the door instantly calming me bringing my heart rate down. Grabbing a hold of her pulling her into a big hug.

"Hey sis ugh I missed you so much how are you how is doug?"

"Awww Y/n I missed you so much and uhhh me and doug aren't together anymore"

"Wait I'm sorry but how much did I missed you guys broke up"

"Yeah you've missed a lot but don't worry I'll will catch you up love, come in meet then team you look gorgeous by the way"

"Thank you ta-" was cut of by an eccentric women dressed in a colourful outfit squealing and taking me into a bear hug.

"Oh you must be Y/n, Tara's younger sister I'm Penelope Garcia it's so nice to meet you and you are so pretty your skin your hair! Omg your hair Tara why have you never gotten braids before?"

I was taken aback but so intrigued she seems like such a fun and outgoing person definitely someone I would love to be friends with. Replying for Tara I said.

"Oh Tara's never really been with the whole braids thing even when when we were younger she's always been more into wigs."

A women with piercing black hair and beautiful eyelashes who I can only assume was Emily standing in the foyer with the rest of the team questioned.

"Wait I'm sorry but Tara that's not your real hair?"

I turned to look and Tara who then looked back at me whilst we both turned to the only other black person in the room who I assume is Derek morgen by the description Tara gave me of her co workers. All three of us proceeded to look at each other then back at Emily after a brief moment of silence Derek and I burst into laughter. Tara interrupted our laughter, "why don't we introduce you to the rest of the team instead of revealing my hair secrets of mmh?" I walked with Tara to go meet Hotch and Rossi whilst I turned to Garcia giving me a cheeky grin and mouthing Your in big trouble.

I said hi to Hotch and Rossi thanking him for inviting me into his beautiful home I was then lead to JJ and Derek greeting them.

"Hi it's really nice to meet you guys" I waved at them and they both gave me a confused looked.

"Oh I don't shake hands to many germs it's actually safer to kiss then to shake hands with someone" they both looked at me stunned then looked to the mystery man talking to Penelope and Emily.

"Not that I don't want to shake your hand I do it's just not my thing... sorry I ramble a lot when I get nervous."

"No it's okay you just remind us of someone that's all" Derek said whilst smirking with JJ.

"Dinners ready let's all meet at the garden" Rossi announced.

I Weaved my arm through Tara's as well began walking to the garden. "So Dr.Lewis how are you finding Washington" Penelope asked me

"Oh it's really nice I'm enjoying the city right now and I'm excited to be with Tara for the next few months"

Spencer's POV

"Wait did you say Dr.Lewis"

"Yeah Spence, y/n is a Dr" JJ said

"Oh so you guys looked me up? I mean I dont mind I could have just told you guys" Y/n said giggling

"Yeah I looked you up, anyone on the teams family is my family" Garcia said matching her giggle.

"Yeah I have a phd in psychology maths and physics, and a bachelors in criminology" Y/n replied weakly.

"Oh come on y/n/n tell him then the rest come on!" Tara said encouraging her sister to speak

"And I have an IQ of 190 and an eidetic memory"

"And y/n?” Tara said encouraging her once more.

"And I can read 25,000 words per minute, but they don't want to here about this boring stuff Tara."

"We do want to hear about this what if someone was like you?" Derek said

By this point we had gotten to the garden and were sitting at the table I was visibly staring at Y/n but I didn't care she was beautiful and her brain was to, she was like me no she was smarter and I wanted so badly to get to know her. As she sat down in between Tara and I she jokingly said.

"if I meet a guy with an IQ and eidetic memory like mine, a Doctor, with a nice personality and was cute like extremely attractive I would date him in a heartbeat but those types of guys don't exist"

I don't know what came over me but I had to reply y/n was talking about me I'm her dream man and she didn't even know it. Tara only said she and I would get along but I didn't know this well she's like the denial version of me but better, her skin glowed under the fairy lights that hung around Rossi's garden making her look angelic. Her dress accentuated every curve and dip on her body her cleavage ever so slightly protruding out of her dress but her body wasn't what intrigued me it was her her mind her personality I haven't even had a conversation with her but I already want to get to know her. So I downed my glass of liquid courage turned to her and I was about to describe Derek butted in and said.

Y/N’s POV

"I think Y/n over here just describe pretty boy"

"I described who"

I turned to Tara slaking her what Derek meant but she wouldn't look in my direction.

"Uhh I think what there trying to say is that you describing me Y/n I have and IQ of 187 I also have an eidetic memory and 3 PHD's but I mean I don't know if I'm-"

"You are attractive...if that's what you were going to ask"

I didn't even know the name of the man who spoke I think it might be Spencer but i didn't care because this was the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life

—

#wattpad #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfic #Spencer Reid x black reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #oc x canon #tara lewis #ari lennox #spencer walter reid #lovecore

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stargazing-enby · 3 years

Note

“I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé” + Drarry 😘

Thank you @stavromulabetaaa @secretlycrazyhummingbird and anon for your prompts! I turned them into a New Years story, I hope that's all right 😁

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2k | Teen and Up | Fake Fiancés, Auror Partners, Locked Down Together, Love Confessions | Read on AO3

“...And we’re still unsure whether the situation will be safe enough for us to marry in spring, so that’s why we haven’t organised much yet. Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know as soon as we have a date.”

Harry, mind still fuzzy with sleep, empty mug in hand, stopped in his tracks by the living room door. Had he heard right?

“We understand, Draco,” came Narcissa’s voice from the Floo. “But you must understand our concerns, too.”

“I do, mother. But you know this was necessary.”

“We do,” Lucius said. “The most important thing is that we’re all safe right now, even if we missed having you home last night.”

Harry didn’t hear the end of the conversation—didn’t notice Draco walking into the kitchen a minute later; he was too busy frowning at the kettle.

“Morning,” said Draco from behind him. “Didn’t know you were up.”

“Didn’t know you were engaged,” Harry said without thinking—without turning around, without even understanding why he didn’t want to turn around; didn’t want Draco to see the whirl of emotions unravelling in his chest.

“Oh,” Draco said, voice low. “You heard that.”

Harry shook his head, eyes still fixed on the kettle.

“Not on purpose.” His words came out strained, and he cursed himself inwardly. Why did he even care? It wasn’t like Draco’s personal life was any of his business. Sharing a flat didn’t make them friends, now did it? No matter how much Harry had grown to enjoy having the git around all the time, and watching him fall asleep while they watched telly together at night, and getting to see Draco’s tousled hair in the mornings—

Draco sighed—a slow, heavy sound—and leaned against the counter beside him. Harry did look up at him then, and the maelstrom of emotion probably still all over his face came to an abrupt halt when he realised Draco was holding back a giggle.

“I’m not engaged, Potter,” he said, grin widening. “You look really upset at the idea, though. It’s a cute look on you.”

Draco’s mirth was beautiful, and so, so good at softening Harry from inside out. Still, Harry crossed his arms over his chest with an indignant huff, grumbling, “Sod off, I thought you were keeping an engagement from me!” When Draco only laughed at him, he added, “Why on Earth do your parents think you’re engaged, then?”

“I’ll tell you,” Draco said through another giggle, “but don’t murder me. I’m the best Auror partner you’ll ever have.”

Harry just raised his eyebrows at him—curiosity and concern mixing with a subtle hint of betrayal that refused to fade away just yet.

“My parents are…very traditional,” Draco started.

“I’d gathered that much, thank you.”

“Shut up, you giant prick. The thing is, they firmly believe people must live with their parents or on their own until they marry. Sharing a living space with anyone other than your spouse is…improper to them. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail as to why.”

“You really don’t,” Harry said, grimacing.

“So when I told them I was moving in with you temporarily, I sort of…kind of…had to tell them we were engaged, and the only reason I was moving in with you before getting married was that we wanted to wait until the pandemic was over to have a big wedding with all our loved ones.”

To Harry’s credit, he didn’t drop the mug full of piping hot coffee all over himself.

He did gape at Draco for a good three seconds, though.

“Your parents think we’re engaged?”

“That’s what I said, yes.” Draco had the decency to look sheepish, at least. “If it’s any consolation, they also trust me to remain chaste until my wedding night, so they don’t think you and I have—”

“Oh my god.”

“I would never, anyway. They raised me well.”

“Stop. Shut up.” Harry rested the mug on the kitchen table—sat heavily on a chair, gaze unfocused. “But didn’t you explain—”

“I did explain to them I was moving in with you because we work together and it’s safest to have you as the only person in my bubble so I don’t put them at risk, yes. They argued I had enough money to rent a place for myself, and I panicked and told them you and I had plans to marry anyway, so it wasn’t all that bad, since they trust me to wait until my wedding night to—”

“Yeah, yes, got it.” Harry pressed his eyes closed, desperately trying to will images of a virginal Draco Malfoy draped over a white king-sized bed from his mind. “Were you planning on telling me any of this? You’ve been here for weeks…”

“I was, of course.”

Harry side-eyed him.

“It’s just—I guess…I was waiting for the right time to tell you, and it never really came up. And don’t give me that look! Remember how long it took you to tell me you weren’t dating Ginny anymore?”

“That’s different!” Harry said.

“Potter, you let me send both of you a Christmas card as though you were a couple and replied to it with her because it felt too awkward to tell me you’d broken up!”

Harry took a sip of his coffee to avoid Draco’s gaze.

“That may be true,” he muttered eventually, when he looked up at Draco again and found him still looking expectantly at him. “But this involves me directly. I mean, what if I’d answered a Floo call from them while you were in the bathroom and they’d brought up the engagement?”

“Excuse you, I never schedule anything at bathroom hours!”

“I...don’t want to know what that means.” Would it be too much for him to bury his face in his arms and fall right back asleep? “What are we going to do now?”

“We wait until lockdown is over and pretend we’ve broken up and are no longer engaged, of course.”

“What, so your parents hate me forever?” Harry asked. “No, thank you!”

“What do you mean, no thank you? The alternative, in case you hadn’t noticed, is to marry me, Potter!”

“You’re making my year start with a headache,” Harry groaned. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Very much so, actually,” Draco said. “Because you will pretend you’re my fiancé over Floo, won’t you? My parents have been asking to talk with you directly, and if it doesn’t happen soon, they’re going to start thinking you’re a bad husband…”

“Fiancé! I mean—flatmate. Colleague. Ugh. Fine. Fine. I’ll do it,” he said when Draco just pouted dolefully. He couldn’t resist those puppy eyes, dammit. “But I’ll be cursing you to hell and back in my mind the entire time.”

Draco’s grin was definitely not worth the sacrifice.

***

“Harry! What a delight to finally be able to talk to you. Draco says you’ve been busy with work matters lately.”

“Y-Yeah, it’s been chaos,” Harry said, resisting the urge to glare at Draco and hoping Narcissa couldn’t see the puzzle sitting on the coffee table or the stack of movies by the sofa through the Floo. “I’m really glad to see you, too.” Fuck, that’d sounded awfully awkward. “Happy new year, by the way—let’s hope it’s a better one.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be. The year an offspring gets married is always among the best of a mother’s life.”

“Right. Of course.” Add ‘upsetting Narcissa terribly’ to the list of reasons to curse Draco.

“And I imagine it will be an even happier year for you two, especially if a future heir is in the picture by the end of it!”

ADD ‘ALMOST CHOKING TO DEATH ON MY SALIVA’ TO THE LIST OF REASONS TO—

“Mother, please, I think it’s a little bit to early for that—”

“I know, I know, sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m just really excited for you, my Draco. You’ve wanted this for so long…”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

“Harry, you are one very lucky man, I hope you know that,” Narcissa went on, oblivious to the look Harry and Draco were sharing—the colour drained from Draco’s cheeks, a breath caught in Harry’s lungs. “I do hope you will be taking the Malfoy name, too! It would be an honour to have you as a part of our family tree…”

She went on about the Sacred Twenty-eight for what seemed like forever, and Harry was only vaguely aware of Draco interrupting her with the excuse they had to get back to work and ending the call after a round of good-byes.

For a moment, they both stared into the faceless flames.

“You’re not going to buy it if I tell you I really do need to get back to work, right?” Draco said after a moment, voice low.

“You know the answer to that.”

Draco huffed.

“Well, then, go ahead and ask what you want to ask. Don’t make me suffer for longer than necessary.”

Harry sneaked a glance in Draco’s direction. Unlike a few moments before, his face was a dark shade of red, hand clutching the edge of the carpet, knees drawn close to his chest.

“I don’t want to ask if you don’t want to tell me,” Harry murmured, looking back into the flames.

“It’s not like I can Obliviate you,” Draco retorted. “You heard what you heard.”

Harry nodded.

“That you’ve wanted me for a very long time.”

Draco didn’t reply.

Harry glanced at Draco’s hand again, now playing nervously with the fringe of the carpet, and, after a moment of hesitation that faded with his next exhale, he reached out and rested his hand on it. Draco’s fingers stilled under his touch, and Draco’s eyes found his—wide, scared, vulnerable.

He dared run the tips of his fingers over Draco’s knuckles, and his own breath caught when he heard Draco’s hitch.

“Draco…” Harry started, not knowing what he was even going to say. “The past few weeks have been… they’ve been—”

“Don’t,” Draco said, voice strained. “Don’t. Just—” He looked away again. “Just tell me you just want to be colleagues and be done with it, please.”

“Maybe that’s not what I want.” He slipped his fingers between Draco’s soft own; squeezed them gently. “Maybe what I want isn’t so different from what you want. You don’t know what’s going on inside my mind. You have no idea what the past few weeks have meant to me.”

Draco didn’t move under his touch—didn’t seem to move at all, except for the quick, uneven rise and fall of his chest. When he talked, the words came out quickly, in a whisper, as though he was terrified to hear himself say them.

“What are you saying, Potter?”

“What I’m saying is I want more of this. More puzzles, and movies, and more of your way-too-salty chicken soup, and more evenings and mornings by your side. I’m saying I hadn’t realised until very recently how much I want more of you, Draco. But I do. Merlin, I do.”

A sound somewhere between a whine and a choked cackle came out of Draco’s throat.

“You sound like I’ve actually proposed to you, you idiot,” he groaned. Harry rolled his eyes at him, squeezed his fingers yet again.

“I’m being serious!” he said, unable to hold back a laugh. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not! I’m just—this whole situation, it’s…”

“I know,” Harry murmured. “But it doesn’t have to be. Things don’t have to be so different now. I mean, we already work together and we’ve been having movie nights every Saturday for, what, three years now? And now we live under the same roof, we cook meals together, we fall asleep together on the couch…Merlin. We’re already like a married couple, aren’t we?” Harry said, horrified. “No wonder your parents bought the engagement story!”

“Wait till I tell you they were actually surprised it hadn’t happened sooner…”

Harry buried his face in his knees to stifle a groan.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, and stood up still holding on to Draco’s hand. “Let’s make some lunch and pretend like this wasn’t the most embarrassing conversation we’ve ever had.”

Draco’s fingers were still comfortably hooked around his as they made their way to the kitchen.

#otpshipper98 #drarry #harry potter #drarry squad #drarry fic #pining drarry

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 5: The moment when

Series Masterlist

A/N: This piece takes place immediately after part four.

Warnings: A little softness, swearing, mentions of drinking, smut 18+, (if you are a minor DO NOT READ), oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4700

You don’t know how it happened.

Fred pulled you in for one final kiss at the door. His hand slid down the outside of your winter coat before finding your hips to pull you back towards him. The kiss even though partially in the hallway open to anybody coming or going was full of passion. His tongue covered in your flavour, licked the inside of your mouth while you gripped his tousled red locks to pull him towards you, closing the gap.

It was hot. So hot you almost walked back inside and closed the door behind you. But you had been there for two days straight, and he had a virtual meeting in a couple hours with some of the trainers and medical staff to go over a plan for his rehab. But it was extremely hard for you to step back.

Reluctantly you pulled away and walked towards the elevator but everything was hazy, the kiss fogging your brain. You heard the elevator ding and when the doors open you were met with a man, a plain black mask disguising most of his face. Even with the mask you immediately recognize the dark brown eyes and hair curling out under his hat. “Hey Auston,” you smile stepping in only to be greeted by a big black and white pile of floof jumping on you.

Ignoring his greeting you immediately bend down to your knees to pet the bernadoodle in front of you. “Oh aren’t you just the cutest,” you say, in your puppy voice, “Felix,” you add in noticing the name on the collar tag. Pulling your mask down slightly he licks up your face causing you to laugh almost knocking you over.

“Ugh,” you laugh turning so the next lick is on your cheek. “Normally I expect dinner first Felix,” you joke.

“Sorry, manners aren’t his strong suit,” Auston laughs, helping you back to your feet.

“How did I forget you have the cutest fluff ball ever?” you practically ignore Auston most of your attention on the energetic pup in front of you. Bending over to keep petting Felix, he sits in front of you constantly giving you paws, big black eyes eagerly smiling up at you.

“You never spend time at my place,” Auston chuckles. “We were actually just going to go for a walk, want to join us?”

You don’t even think you considered it, just completely distracted by the dog. How could you say no to his big black beady eyes and wagging tail? So you nodded and walked off the elevator while he led you to a nearby park. You were there for twenty minutes or so while Auston threw the ball and you eagerly gave Felix pets every time he returned it. Returning back to his building he asked if you wanted to come up for a drink and you agreed.

You remember him offering you wine before putting on the office. You started lying in the corner of the “L” shaped couch, with your head on his shoulder during the first two episodes. You descended into a comfortable conversation barely even paying attention to the show that plays in the background. He told you about growing up in Scottsdale, trying to become a hockey player while living in a desert.

You told him about your time in school, what inspired you to be a teacher. You talked about your families, him showing you pictures of his two sisters and sharing stories. It was fun seeing this side of him, getting to know him.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time with him over the past few months, you had hours together. Countless dinners with him, even fallen asleep beside him a time or two, but every time Fred was there with you. You only see him when either you or Fred asks about inviting him over. Over half your time with Fred is with Auston but you still have time without him.

Some nights after dinner Fred would do the dishes while Auston would lead you down the hall to his room. He would normally only give you a 15-20 minute head start, but most of that time you didn't spend talking.

This is the first time it’s just the two of you, no Fred. Not that you hadn’t seen Fred earlier, you still had some of his cum in your hair, and you could feel the burn of his beard between your legs.

You are really enjoying this side of him. It feels good, easy. But that was two hours ago. You have no idea how you ended up here.

On his couch.

Wearing his sweater.

Your leggings long gone.

Hands digging into your hips, tongue licking along your thigh.

Your hands anchored tightly into his locks, soft moans tumbling from your lips.

“This is nice,” he runs his hand over the navy lace fabric barely covering your core, “don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“It’s new, came in a few days ago,” you gasp as his thick fingers dance over the cloth protecting your heat, forcing your head to fall back further and your hips to arch up. His fingers trail to your hip bone finding the early colours of a bruise, the bruises his friend left mere hours ago.

“Pretty,” he hums spreading your legs apart ignoring the marks on your body. He licks his lips slightly staring between your legs, fingers dancing along the lace.

“Some hockey player kept ripping my underwear had to get new ones,” you murmur. Auston chuckles in response, knowing that you are talking about him.

“’I’ll buy you a new pair,” he leans down placing some soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. With each caress of your most sensitive spot the desire pooling in your stomach only increased.

“Three,” you moan when his mouth presses the fabric into your clit, tongue gently flicking into it. Pulling back slightly he drags the fabric down your thighs with his teeth. “You’ve ripped three.”

Your hands tighten their grasp as he peppers kisses over your pubic bone. He nips the skin in the exact spot Fred did, causing some curse words to tumble from your lips. “I’ll buy you five just so I’m ahead of the count,” he chuckles the lace landing on the floor.

With a quick wink he drops his head back down, spreading your legs to showcase your glistening cunt. He licks his lips and wraps his mouth around your clit. You gasp and wince slightly, still sensitive from the time Fred spent down there mere hours ago. But that doesn’t stop him; instead it encourages him to press in further digging into your hips harder.

“God you taste so good,” he mumbles, flicking his tongue in and out. “Sweet as honey princess,” he adds, and you feel your walls flutter as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

“Aus,” you moan, barely audible, but he definitely heard sucking harder on your clit. Bucking your hips into his face-you feel him smirk against you. He encourages you, gently rolling your hips to bring you closer. The low burning in your gut slowly begins to bubble up. Legs clamp around his head, locking him against your heat.

Your legs tremble and incoherent sounds fall from your lips. Your moans are getting louder and louder, you tug harder on his dark brown curls. Skin is hot, burning into his lips. He groans into your heat, the feeling vibrating through your core and up your spine.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine while his tongue continues to flick inside you. Over the past few weeks he has become very good at reading your body, recognizing the telltale signs of your orgasm sometimes before you do. He groans in response, pulling your body down, face smothered by your thighs.

“Fuck,” your hip arches up grinding further into his face. You begin to chant “Aus,” the second syllable getting lost in your pleasure. Euphoria floods your veins, your body tingles while little fires ignite throughout your entire body. The man between your legs doesn’t let up working you through your high, groaning while your juices spill onto his tongue.

“Fuck y/n,” Auston coos, slowly pulling his head away from your dripping heat. “You’re phenomenal.”

Crawling up your body he slides his tongue in your mouth, your body still in a post orgasmic haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue while his body presses against yours. Slowly your fog lifts and you deepen the kiss, moaning slightly when you feel his erection press against your thigh.

His large hand slides under your sweater, easily engulfing your breast in his large palm. Pulling the cup down he pinches your nipple smirking when you wince. But he has no idea the damage his friend left behind.

His tongue finds your neck, licking from your collarbone to your ear lobe. Pulling your skin through his teeth your entire body gets hot, sweat building in the valley of your breasts. Lips trail along your jaw then down your neck-leaving open mouthed kissed onto your skin. The feeling of his growing bulge against your dripping centre makes you moan again.

“Aus,” you barely manage a coherent thought as your sweater is pulled from your body leaving you in just a bra. He tosses his sweater aside, it landing somewhere amongst the clothes scattered on his floor.

“I like when you call me that,” he purrs in your ear.

“Take me to your bedroom,” you try to sound firm but it comes out as more of a desperate plea. Within seconds his feet hit the floor and he pulls you over his shoulder. Making his way through the living room and down his hall his large hand strokes over the back of your thigh.

You faintly hear Felix’s claws click against his wood floors. But when he brings a hand up placing a firm slap on your ass the sound fades, only able to focus on the burn of your skin. His hand soothes your bottom, before delivering another blow hitting the same spot.

“Auston,” you scold. With the back of his heel you hear his bedroom door slam shut, followed by a whimper from the pup on the other side. Your heart breaks a little for him but it doesn’t last long.

“Please you expect me to believe Fred wasn’t doing this to you a few hours ago,” he throws you onto the bed. Your eyes go wide as he pulls his shirt off tossing it towards the hamper, it landing a few feet short.

“You think I didn’t recognize the fucked-out look plastered on your face when you stepped into the elevator. Or that I don’t taste him on the inside of your thighs?” Before you can process his words his track pants are being shoved down his legs and he steps out them. Your eyes rake over his body, tattooed arm, broad shoulders and a firm rock hard chest. His long and deliciously thick cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. The swollen, flushed, pink tip oozing pearly white droplets of precum.

He quickly presses his body against yours, fingers tracing over the purple and blue marks that litter your hips. His fingers slowly follow the trail up your body, through the valley of your breast to your collar bone. His fingers work in the opposite direction of the trail Fred’s mouth left earlier in the day.

“You two have fun,” he asks sucking on your collarbone. Your back arches and he pops open your bra throwing it onto the floor. His mouth continues to press soft wet kisses over every bruise. You would expect some pain as he presses against the marks, but his touch is soft; featherlike, slowly drawing over the purple and blue. It’s almost soothing how his cold tongue caresses your sensitive skin.

That is until he finds your breast that Fred spent a lot of time on, sucking almost aggressively. You warned Fred a few times but he didn’t let up, instead sucking harder. He slowly dragged your nipple through his teeth; even nipping at the skin. At some point your entire breast became fully bruised but Fred still didn’t stop. Even when his thick dick was dragging in and out of your walls his mouth was still attached to your breast.

“I asked you a question princess,” Auston hums, nipping the skin around your nipple.

“Fuck,” you cry out feeling a tear hit the corner of your eye.

“You have fun with Fred earlier,” he asks more direct this time.

“Yes,” you hiss when he brings a thumb to press into your breast, swirling it on the bruises surrounding your nipple.

“Yeah, what did you guys do,” he muses pressing his throbbing erection against your hip. “Hmm princess. Did he use his tongue on you?”

Unable to focus, two of his large fingers dance over your folds. He gently plays with the opening, soaking up the juices that have begun to coat his digits. His tongue slowly draws up the valley of your breast and he sinks his teeth into your collarbone.

“He use his fingers to open you up?” his digits grazing over your clit with every swoop.

Your moans become incoherent; a mix of curse words and grunts. He slowly rolls on top of you, resting on his elbows, hands gripping your hair while his tip pokes at your entrance. “He make you feel this good baby?” slowly his tip begins to spread open your folds while he slides in.

“He stretch you like I do?” he bottoms out. Hips hitting hips, his length pressing into what feels like your stomach. “He fuck you like I do princess?” he pulls his hips back and slams back in, his face centimetres from yours. “Did your heat flutter around him with every thrust?”

Barely able to function you tightly grip his chain and pull his face closer to yours. Trying to bring his lips to yours, he skirts around, lips finding the shell of your ear.

“God I’ve wanted this for so long,” his pace increases while your hips roll up towards his. He drags his cock in and out of your soaking pussy, the sound from between your legs is absolutely disgusting but you love it. “I have wanted to fuck you away from him. Fuck you as much as I want, as fast or slow as I want, as many times as I want without Fred cutting in for his turn.”

Your mind is swirling with his admission. But you can barely focus or process it when he harshly thrusts in again. “Wanted to wrap my hand around your throat,” he brings his hand up resting it against your trachea. “Have you under me gasping for air with each thrust.”

“Aus,” you whimper as he begins to tighten his grip. Slowly air begins to leave your lungs, “remember the word princess?” You only have the strength to muster a slight nod. “I need to hear you say it,” he completely stops thrusting and eases his grip on your throat. His dick still seethed inside you, filling you until you almost overflow, but he remains still.

“Yellow,” you manage to croak. With a devilish grin his hips begin to rock in and out of you again his hand gripping your throat restricting the air.

“You’re such a good girl for me Y/N,” he mumbles.

After your weekend with Fred you didn’t think you can handle anymore. Your sensitivity makes it easy for your orgasm to come rolling through, and unexpectedly wash over you. You’re entire body jolts as he continues his long hard thrusts mumbling filth in your ear.

Coming down from your high he doesn’t stop, instead he picks up his pace. Headboard is rattling against the wall; your whimpers are getting louder.

“Aus, I need a minute,” you manage to choke out around his tightening grip on your hand.

“You need a minute you say the word, otherwise I’m gonna keep going,” he gives you a painful thrust, your head hitting the headboard. “Because I know you always want a minute,” he tightens his grip further restricting your airway, “but you don’t need it. In seconds you’re going to be crying out for me to hit you harder, faster. You just gotta wait for it princess.”

Your mouth opens into a silent O and your nails find the back of his neck, tugging on the hair. His dark eyes blown with fire burn down at you. His lips begin to curl when he sees your face change, pleasure taking over and eagerly seeking for your next release.

“There you go baby,” he smirks sensing your shift.

The hand on your throat is barely letting air through, but there is something about him saying the word baby that causes your body to tingle. He has never called you that before, always your name or princess. Fred calls you baby.

You would expect it to feel wrong, that guilt would wash over you thinking of Fred. Peering up into his eyes, while brown like Fred’s, Auston’s are much darker. You expect that to be the moment you are flooded with remorse, the weight of what you’ve done. Instead he is staring at you through hooded lenses, clouded with lust and it spurs you on.

You’re panting Auston’s name while your chest heaves, lungs still deprived of oxygen. Rolling your hips one leg wraps around his large muscular back and your heel digs in to hold him close to you.

Your pussy is swollen; it’s taken a beating this weekend you didn’t think it could handle. But here you are crying out for him to hit you faster, and of course he eagerly agrees. Your nails are firmly anchored into his skin, your other hand tangled around his chain pulling his face to yours.

His lips hover near your ear and he mumbles praise and filth to you. Auston has never been big on the dirty talk when it’s just the two of you. Once Fred is in the room the words tumble from his lips like sand in a desert, but when it’s just the two of you he is more reserved.

But not today.

Strings of filth are pouring out and you love it. His cock driving against your g-spot, hand cutting off your air supply and a vile tongue spewing venom in your ear. It all is becoming too much. And he knows it.

“Freddie make you cum this much?”

“He make you cum this hard?”

“He make you feel this good?”

“Fuck Princess, cum on my cock once more”

“Coat it in your juices”

Your ears ring and you don’t hear another word he says, but his warm breath indicates he is still talking to you. Your moan turns into a scream and with a final harsh thrusts euphoria floods you, your vision going white. Little shockwaves course through your body as you stop bucking your hips to meet his, your grip loosening on his chain and neck.

Still revelling in your post orgasmic haze, you feel him get sloppier as his climax draws closer. Breathing getting heavier and with a loud grunt he pulls out. Ropes of sticky white warmth coating your stomach. He pumps himself until he is dry, falling onto the bed beside you.

Your body is hot and clammy. Auston slowly draws a finger up and down your forearm as your chests heaves. Slowly you turn to look at him, sweat drenching the roots of his hair. He smiles when met with your face and hesitantly leans down. Millimetres separate your faces, slowly the gap closing. You take it upon yourself to pull his face down. You can taste the salt on his lips, his mustache tickling over your upper lip. “You need to trim this,” you laugh running your thumb over it.

“I like it,” he chuckles, placing another soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s go shower.”

“Ugh I can’t,” you groan knowing your knees will buckle if you try to stand.

“My shower has a bench you can sit on for a bit,” he presses his lips to your again. “But we need to clean this up,” he eyes down to the mess on your stomach. He is right, but still neither of you move; needing a few more minutes.

“You know you can,” you trail off slightly thinking over your thoughts but also recapturing your breath, “you don’t have to pull out.”

The feeling of cum inside you is relatively new, having felt it for the first time a year ago. The first time when you and Fred foregone a condom you were so infatuated with the thought of Auston, imagining his body on yours, it just slipped from your lips. You weren’t even sure if you meant it. But once you felt Fred spill inside you, sticky warmth dripping from your cunt and down your thighs, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

The thought of it alone makes you wet. But one thing you have loved even more is when Fred’s cum is dripping from your slick, sometimes he will bring his fingers in. With a few thrusts the warmth is spilling out around his digits and he’ll bring them to your mouth for you to lick clean.

It’s like magic.

And you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of what it would feel like to be full of both men. So much your walls are unable to hold it in, just a mixture of the three of you spilling out.

“Oh um,” his eyes dart around your face. His tone is soft and nervous before he continues, “we never talked about it, so I figured I should. That first time was…I uh…I didn’t mean to the first time. Just really in the moment, and you were so shocked when it happened. I actually felt like shit for not using a condom that night, let alone not pulling out. When the second time came around I figured I should at least pull out.”

“I mean Fred -” you start, but you don’t want to bring sex with him into this moment. “I work around kids so I am very good at birth control,” you laugh slightly. “It’s 100% your choice obviously. I’m just saying I wouldn’t hate it if you didn’t.”

Auston has a wide smile on his face hearing your revelation, and he brings you down for a sloppy kiss. Pulling away you are almost certain you could fall asleep, whimpering when Auston moves leaving you alone on the cold bed.

A few minutes later he is scooping you up and gently placing you on his shower bench. Leaning your head against the cool tile, steam filling the shower, you watch Auston. He shoots you playful winks and asks if you are okay before finally pulling you to your feet and rubs shampoo in your hair.

Once re-dressed and in his living room you notice it is getting late in the day, the sky beginning to get dark. Felix’s ears perk up and you immediately go to him giving him some pets before you head out for the evening. His tail eagerly slaps against the couch and you don’t stop until he places a few licks on your cheek.

Turning around Auston pulls you into his chest, holding you tight while you listen to the gentle beating of his heart. Grabbing a handful of his sweater you aren’t quite ready to let him go. Tilting your head upwards he smiles down at you. Felix eagerly joins the two of you, jumping on you, bashing against both of your legs. Auston softly brushes the hair from your forehead and stands feet firmly planted staring down at you with soft and tender eyes.

“I had a great time,” he finally whispers, but you get the feeling that isn’t what he wants to say.

“Mmm me too,” you mumbles in agreeance, but you’re not just talking about the sex. He closes the gap and brushes his lips against yours, the kiss starting out soft. It’s not until one of your hands slide up his back that he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. Hands snake down your body to your hips, but when he gives your ass a playful squeeze, you pull away laughing.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, but you can tell from the smirk on his face he is lying; it was 100% intentional.

“Think I can get your number,” he asks taking a deep breath. His voice is uneasy; it’s the first time in the months you’ve known him his confidence seems shaken. Before you can even take a breath he continues, “I always see these memes that make me think of you, but I can’t send them to you.”

A light chuckle gets caught in your throat, “right to send memes” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow to him. Pursed lips you gaze over his face for a few seconds, you can see his is nervous while he awaits your response. With a slight nod you hold your hand out “phone.”

Quickly he is in his pocket, unlocking the device and handing it to you. Putting your digits in you rise to your tippy toes and place a soft kiss to his cheek. “What time do you have to be up tomorrow,” he asks checking his phone, before putting it away. “If it’s not too early you could stay over,” he trails off at the end, his words coming out almost a whisper.

“I actually uh don’t,” you stutter.

“Oh is it a holiday of some kind?”

“Uh no…Long story but I don’t have a job right now, so I don’t have to be up in the morning.”

“You wanna talk –“

“Nope I do not,” you quickly cut him off, not wanting to relive it. “But I can stay,” you smile and he presses his lips back to yours.

“Felix is very excited,” he says and you laugh hearing the pup come up beside you with one of his squeaky toys. Pulling away you bend down to take his toy dinosaur from his mouth and throw it to the other side of the room for him to chase.

“Wait, what do you do with him when you’re on the road?”

“Steph, one of the guys’ girlfriends watches him.”

“Let me watch him,” you lean in to kiss his nose and he places a lick on your cheek.

“Well Fred thinks he’ll be out for a couple weeks. I’ll probably see if he can watch him,” Auston explains.

“Seriously? Why does Fred get to watch Felix,” you groan. Felix’s ears perk up when you say Fred’s name and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly jealous he knows Fred’s name but not yours yet. You scratch his face, rubbing behind his big floppy ears while Felix leans into the pets slightly.

“He’s his stepdad,” Auston explains with a light laugh. “And I didn’t have your number until now, I couldn’t ask you.”

“Okay but now you do,” you pout as Felix spins in excited circles before falling to the floor for you to rub his belly.

“When Fred gets back to playing I’ll get you to watch him ‘kay”

“We would have so much fun eh Felix, get a million w-a-l-k ‘s a day” you spell the letters out so Felix doesn’t get excited. “So many treats and toys. I’m gonna be your favourite person in the world,” you say in your high pitched puppy voice while you eagerly rub his belly. His tail is slapping against the floor and you can hear Auston laughing and saying something, but you ignore it focusing your attention on the fourteen month old puppy that has captured your heart.

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flamehairedwritings · 3 years

Text

Happiest Season Of All

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Rating: M, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Happy Holidays! Phew, it’s been a while. Here is a kind of drabble, and also kind of a sequel to Pain In My Heart? Set the year before S1, there’s no mentions of family, no use of Y/N, and it’s just a gentle, kind of angsty little story.

This story contains broken hearts, swearing, alcohol and embarrassment.

I hope you enjoy and have a lovely week!

Summary: Broken up with just before Christmas? Fantastic. The only thing that can help is returning to your home town, old friends... and an old love.

Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

—

23rd December 1982

‘... There'll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting, and carolling out in the snow...’

You quietly hum along absent-mindedly to the cassette someone’s playing from a boombox, gazing out of the window. Usually, you’d have been annoyed but, hey, it’s the holidays.

Besides, you haven’t had much of a chance to get into the festive spirit or mood recently. With the classic Christmas song playing, the train rumbling gently and the twinkling lights in the darkness slowly growing brighter, you’re finally starting to feel it. Inhaling a breath, you lean your temple against the cold glass, your fingers lacing together in your lap as you gaze at the lights.

Hawkins, Indiana. Your hometown.

It’s been a few years since you were here for longer than a weekend but, oh, boy, this year you just need to be here. You’re retreating, you’re not too proud to admit, coming home to lick your wounds and be surrounded by all things familiar, cosy and boring.

You almost laugh. You’d left this place because it was so damn boring and now here you are, craving it. If teenage you could see you now. She’d be giving ‘that’ look which you’re told you still give to this day.

Ah, well. Time’s a bitch, baby.

The train slows as it pulls into the station and you start to gather your things while a few others around you stand and pull their bags down from the overhead racks. You pull your suitcases down as the train comes to a stop, all three of them, with their different colours and patterns. Pulling on your scarf, coat and rucksack, you haul the suitcases down the aisle as best as you can single-file, muttering under your breath as they catch every few steps against chairs.

The wheels clatter onto the concrete of the cold platform when you step down, one suitcase twisting onto its front and tangling with the others as it nearly falls from your hand. Muttering under your breath again, you right it and continue walking down the platform, two small groups of people reuniting having to part for you. Making eye contact with a grateful smile, you’re relieved you don’t recognise any of them; you’re really not in the mood for your own reunion right now.

“There she is!”

Well, just the one.

A smile spreads across your face as Karen Wheeler trots down the platform in her heeled boots, grinning and her arms open wide. The suitcases drop from your hands as you throw your arms around one another, rocking from side to side slightly.

“Oooh, hello, sweetheart,” Karen murmurs, pressing a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Karrie.”

Your smile lingers, and it’s the first genuine one you’ve had in a while. Karen has worn the same perfume since high school and it puts you at ease instantly. God, you just love her. You talk on the phone every other week and have done since you moved out of Hawkins; she’s been the most consistent friend in your life and you love her with all your damn heart.

“C’mon, give me those, let’s get out of here, it’s freezing...” Pulling back, she takes two of the suitcases from you before you can protest and starts striding down the platform.

You have to do a quick little jog to catch up with her, marvelling, not for the first or even fortieth time, how she can go so quickly in those heels. It’s a short walk to the exit, made shorter by Karen’s pace, and she’s parked right outside. Wonderful. Opening the trunk, you both bundle your suitcases in, tossing your rucksack on top of it, and then do a speedy little walk to the doors, yanking them open.

“Oof, coldest winter we’ve had in years,” Karen shivers dramatically in her seat as she rubs her gloved hands together before buckling her seatbelt.

Buckling your own as she eases out onto the road, you blow out a breath. “Yeah, definitely feels that way.”

“So, how was the journey?”

“Oh, the usual, long but fine. It was a lot emptier than I expected.”

“Well, we keep hearing there’s gonna be a blizzard, so some folks have come home a little earlier.”

“Well, that’s smart.”

“Yeah. Means I keep bumping into people at the store that I wish I could avoid, though, and on the street.” She snorts as she glances at you. “Ugh, I bumped into Peggy Dawnes the other day, remember her? She would not stop talking about her perfect life on her perfect farm with her perfect husband and her perfect kids and her perfect lawn. Well, there were ten bottles of wine in her cart and I know for a fact her mother doesn’t drink and her perfect husband only likes neat whisky, so, there.”

“Oh.”

You cringe internally at your short reply, but you really can’t think of what else to say. Karen glances at you again, pausing. You look over at her and find the sympathy you’ve only been able to hear during the last few weeks. She reaches over and pats your knee gently before returning her hand to the wheel.

“Oh, sweetheart... How are you doing?”

You release a breath, raising your eyebrows slightly. “Better for being here, already. But, y’know...”

She gives you a sympathetic smile as she pats your knee again. “Don’t worry, toots, like I said you can stay as long as you want, it’s no trouble at all.”

You return her smile, relieved that you find you don’t have to force it. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Her smile widens as she tilts her head. "The kids are looking forward to having you with us, you know how much they love you. It’ll do us all some good.”

You don’t ask about Ted because you know not to.

“I can’t wait to see them, too. How have they been?”

You gaze out of the windshield as she tells you how Nancy and Mike are doing at school and how many words Holly can say now, your eyes flitting from house to house. Decorations are out in full force, as they should be, they’ve probably been up since the 1st of the month, and it makes you smile to see them, remembering how you and Karen would go from house to house when you were younger and rate them out of 10 candy canes.

Ah, the simple life.

She’s still chatting about Mike and his friends when she turns down onto their long drive. It’s lined with various Christmas lawn ornaments, most lit up. Lights line the inside of some of the many windows of the house, too, making it look gorgeous and cosy and warm. A curtain is yanked back suddenly and Mike’s face appears, grinning. He waves frantically and you smile instantly, waving back with your eyebrows raised.

My favourite, funny little kid.

He’s already at the wide open door when Karen parks, still grinning. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the door and step out only to have him nearly slam into you before you can straighten, hugging you tightly.

“You’re here!”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as fiercely. “Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I wanna show you this book I got...” He’s already out of your arms and waving you towards the door, which Karen is muttering about the heat being let out of.

Chuckling to yourself, you help her with your suitcases and rucksack, feeling vastly different to how you did ten minutes ago; they never fail to raise your spirits. Nancy greets you as you enter, smiling widely and also ready for a hug. You give it gladly and just as fiercely as you had with Mike, asking her how she is. She shrugs and just says “Fine,” with a smile as you remove your shoes and coat, and you marvel at how she’d once been as talkative as Mike when she was younger. You hear the boy himself calling from the basement, telling you he can’t currently find the book but it’s around here someone and you’re gonna love it! You follow Karen up the stairs to the guest room with a wide smile, calling back your thanks to him.

Passing walls lined with family photographs, it’s a short walk down the hall to the room you’ll be staying in for... well, who knows. Karen opens the door with a trilled, “Ta-da!” and you laugh as you take in the sight before you. It’s completely decked out in Christmas decorations; tinsel on every bit of furniture, snow-globes on the window sill, a polar bear stuffed toy on the bed, fairy-lights around the headboard. You’d roll your eyes at the excessiveness of it if it wasn’t so damn sweet.

“Wow, it’s like Santa’s Grotto in here...”

“Eh, close enough, I wanted fake snow on the ground but Ted vetoed that idea pretty quick.”

You snort, hauling the suitcase you’re carrying onto the bench at the end of the bed and dropping your rucksack onto it before sitting on the bed, your fingers running over the blanket Karen’s mother had crocheted. Nancy lingers in the doorway, and after leaning your other suitcases against a chest of drawers, Karen turns to her, making a shooing gesture.

“All right, go on, Nance, us hot young things need to get ready.”

“Ugh, Mom...” Nancy just about manages to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she turns away and heads back down the hall while you stare at Karen.

“Uh... Ready for what? Bed?”

“No,” Karen laughs, and you suddenly notice she’s going through your suitcase on the bench, rifling through and pulling various items out. “We’re going out, to the bar.”

“The bar?”

“Yes, the bar.”

You’re still staring at her. “Where everyone we know goes?”

Karen shrugs, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s still the only good bar in Hawkins.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid everyone.”

“Eh, yeah, but... y’know, only good bar in Hawkins. And...” Oh, no, she’s looking sheepish, her head bowing slightly as she glances from you to some of your clothes she’s pulled out. “... Uh, we’re kinda having a party here tomorrow, anyway, so...”

“What?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, her hands raising. “It just kinda happened. It’s been years since we’ve had one and Ted and I were talking about it and then I saw Mary-Lou at Mike’s school and I just happened to mention it and she got so excited and then I got excited and it just, it suddenly happened.”

Your lips press together as you exhale a short breath. “Well, they were fun...”

“Yeah, they were, weren’t they?” Karen sits beside you with a nostalgic sigh, shaking her head. “We had some of the best times of our lives at ‘em.”

“Yeah... I remember the one after you gave birth to Nancy, I thought I was gonna have to take you to the hospital.”

“Ha! Thank God my Mom came over to look after her. What about the one where you set fire to the tree?”

“Oh, please don’t remind me, and that wasn’t actually my fault, you know,”

“Ha, yeah, sure, that was great...”

You both sigh together, a smile finding its way onto your lips at all the memories that come flooding back. They had been fun. You hadn’t been able to attend every one over the years but the ones you had had been so great they’d almost made you want to stay in Hawkins. Maybe... Maybe a return to a beloved tradition is exactly what you need.

Turning your head to her, you arch an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to tell me it was happening, though?”

Karen shrugs as she smiles. “I didn’t want you to talk yourself out of enjoying it before it had even happened. Same as tonight.”

“Oh, Karrie...” You huff out a breath. “... You know me too well, it’s so annoying. Ugh, I was so looking forward to just curling up on the couch, drinking and watching some of the classics.”

“I know.” She pats your knee, nudging her shoulder against yours. “And we’re gonna do that the day after Christmas, and every day that you want to while you’re here. But tonight, we’re gonna get fancy and go out and get a little bit drunk. It’s Christmas, c’moooon.”

You just can’t help but smile. “All right. All right! Fine. How long have I got?”

“An hour.”

“What—”

She’s already on her feet, pointing at you as she heads to the door. “Take a shower while I cook us and the kids something up, and then we’ll get ready. okay?”

You know you have absolutely no choice in the matter. “Okay, fine.”

“Great!” she beams, reaching for the door handle to close it behind herself. She pauses, though, resting her weight on one foot as she clears her throat. “Oh, and uh... he’s probably gonna be there.”

You don’t have to ask who she’s referring to.

Staring at her, you manage to keep your features expressionless. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” She’s watching you carefully, teeth grazing over her lower lip. “He is nearly every night, apparently, according to Marian.”

Raising your eyebrows slightly, you smile. “Well... maybe he won’t be.”

“Yeah, maybe he won’t be...” She’s still watching you, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. “Shower, toots.”

“Okay, okay...” You wave your hand as she pulls the door closed, hearing her move down the hallway.

The moment you hear her heading down the stairs, you release a long breath, lying back on the bed.

Oh, shit...

Well.

You stare at the ceiling as the realisation suddenly dawns on you.

I might see Jim Hopper tonight.

James Hopper. Jim. Hopper. Hop. Chief, also now, not that you’ve ever been around to call him that.

You’d been friends since you were kids, best friends actually, at one point closer than you and Karen had been, and then feelings had developed when you'd become teenagers and then you’d taken the leap and had started dating and then...

You’d broken up.

And you’d been the one to initiate it.

And you’d done that because, well... It was because of a lot of little things. Mainly, though, you hadn’t known what route you wanted to take, college or work, you hadn’t even known what you wanted to do, but you knew you wanted to get out of Hawkins. And Hop... hadn’t known what the hell he wanted to do either, but he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d spoken once or twice about joining the military, or just starting a job, too. College hadn’t even crossed his mind. The conversation had come up and, well, it hadn’t ended well.

In fact, when it ended, that has been the last time you’ve spoken to him. As you’ve returned home over the years you’ve heard he did join the military, fought in Vietnam, came home, married, and lived in New York the same time you had. You’d been heartbroken to hear from Karen that his daughter had died, and he’d divorced and moved back home.

Now, he’s Chief of Hawkins Police and, well, you’d love to avoid seeing him at all costs. There can come a time when, having not seen someone in decades, you can’t even have a casual conversation because all both parties are doing is screaming in their heads.

Well. Like you’d said yourself. He might not be there.

Hey, as Chief of Police this is probably a very busy time of year and he’ll be off doing something.

It’s gonna be fine.

Absolutely fine.

After showering, you throw on some clean, comfy clothes and head downstairs to eat with Karen and the kids.

Holly sits at the table in her highchair, silent as ever, well, being two years old she only knows a handful of words, but she just stares at you as she has done since she was a baby. Mike talks non-stop about school and his friends while Nancy chimes in every now and then to talk about her own friends, saying names of people in her class that you take a moment or two to remember, and to mutter insults at him while he mutters them back.

Karen half-heartedly tells them to stop in between telling you what she might wear, and you somehow manage to keep up with all conversations. Frankly, it’s also quite nice after being surrounded by mostly silence for the last few weeks.

Whipping your plate away from you seconds after you finish, Karen is up and striding to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder.

“C’mon! Let’s get sexy!”

Your lips twitch as Mike and Nancy groan, the only thing they can agree on right now being that their Mom is a complete and utter embarrassment.

She practically shoves you up the stairs, trying to get you to move faster, and from then on the next 30 minutes feels like a whirlwind. She tries on six outfits before settling on her usual favourite, and changes in your room while you rifle through what you’ve brought. Luckily, even though you can’t really remember packing, you’ve brought some of your own favourites, and, after scrambling to find some shoes to go with them, she helps you decide on an old classic.

Gazing at you, her hands on her hips, she beams with delight.

“Well, look at you, huh! Fancy lady!”

You give a twirl as she whoops, and then her arm is looping through yours and she’s practically dragging you towards the door.

“Bye, guys, we’ll be back late!” she calls out, though no one answers, too busy doing their own thing.

You haven’t seen any sign of Ted and, once again, you know not to ask.

“Late? How late is late?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as she hurries you down the stairs.

“Oh, come on, not that late, we’re not gonna get wasted, we’re not teenagers anymore.”

—

“... God, I hate it...”

The stall door slams against the cubicle wall as you pull it open a little more forcefully than you had intended. Holding it for a moment, you exhale a short breath before moving towards the sinks, only swaying a little. Washing your hands, you glance up at Karen, watching her try to reapply her lipstick as neatly as possible.

“And did you hear Julian is engaged? And Andrea has a new boyfriend? Is it me or is everybody getting into a relationship?”

She snorts, rubbing her lips together. “It’s that time of year, folks hate being lonely at Christmas.”

You scoff, turning the tap off and drying your hands. “Just sleep with people, then, doesn’t mean you have to get into a relationship and hog someone all to yourself.”

She laughs, slipping her lipstick back into her bag before turning to you, a hand on her hip. “Oh, babe... C’mon, let’s find you someone to have meaningless sex with it.”

“Okay.”

The bar has been heaving from the moment you’d arrived. It usually is, but tonight the place is rammed, perhaps because of the time of year, but maybe more because, it turns out, there’s an offer on drinks, it being the holiday season and all, and happy hour has lasted more than one hour. More than two. It’s nearing three now.

Each sip has helped you relax, even as Karen gasps and points out old high school classmates, filling you in on every detail of their lives she’s learned. So far, incredibly gladly, she’s not pointed out a certain Chief.

Returning to your table, which a guy you don’t recognise has been guarding for you, as in literally guarding, he has his hands behind his back and is saying, “Nah, move along, this ain’t free...” to anyone who looks like they’re going to swoop in. At spotting you both, he grins and holds his arms out wide, gesturing at the table.

“All free for you, m’ladies.”

You’re unable to stop a smile because there’s something so weirdly charming about this absolute goofball of a man. He takes a seat beside Karen as you sit, the two of them having been exchanging small talk that verged on flirting. Heck, it was flirting. Sipping from your drink as you watch them, you feel a small, familiar twist in your stomach.

Karen is more like her teenage self when she’s with you, but when you see her with Ted, no longer Teddy as he had been in high school, and the kids, she’s Karen the mom, like she’s caged her personality in and doesn’t quite know how to bring the two parts of herself together. When she’d come to visit you once last year, you’d gone out to a bar and you’d watched her flirt with a couple of the men there. You’d thought it was harmless at first, just a bit of fun for her, she’s a charismatic lady, but then something had changed and, as a guy had held her hand, stroking it, and she hadn’t pulled away, you’d felt a twist in your stomach.

She’s gonna have an affair one day.

The thought had come to you so suddenly and so sharply that you’d shoved it away with all your might, horrified with yourself. No, Karen wouldn’t do that... Would she? Since then, you’d become more and more unsure. You’ve stopped asking about Ted when you talk because she’d just sigh heavily and spend the next ten minutes pointing out every flaw he has, how the romance has gone, how she’s tried and nothing happens. You know she’s unhappy, but you just can’t see her doing it. You hope not, anyway.

Looking away from them, you watch a few people dancing, Christmas music flowing out of the speakers above.

Karen laughs at something the guy says, and in the corner of your eye you see her place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, that’s too funny! You’re really funny... Sorry, what’s your name again?”

The man is unfazed, still grinning. “Callahan. Phil Callahan.”

He says it with such an atrocious Sean Connery accent, making Karen burst out laughing again, and it makes you smile, too.

“Oh, big James Bond fan, huh?” she says, her elbow on the table, chin in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s why I became a cop.”

Your gaze darts to him. “You’re a cop?”

He raises his hands as he laughs. “Yeah, but, hey, you go on and drink as much as you want, I’m off duty now.”

Karen laughs and you make yourself join in, but your heart has started to beat a little faster.

Oh, stop it, he’s not here.

You take a quick sip of your drink again to cover the fact you aren’t laughing anymore, and then Callahan looks up, his grin widening somehow as he waves his hand frantically.

“Hey, boss, over here!”

Boss?

Boss.

The entire room seems to slow down as you turn your head and see a man, who’s stopped for a moment to shake hands with someone, with brown hair and a neatly clipped beard, wearing a brown leather jacket, plaid shirt and jeans, his eyebrows raised—

Oh, God.

Oh, shit.

Oh fucking Lord in the manger.

Callahan is slapping his hand against the vacant seat at the table, that happens to be close to you, practically shouting, “Hop’, here, saved ya a seat!”

You swiftly turn back around, staring at Karen. She’s frozen, staring at you, and for the next three seconds you somehow communicate an entire conversation with just your eyebrows and eyes.

Both of you seem to agree on fuuuuuuck.

You can’t just get up and leave, that would be the most obvious thing in the entire world. What if he doesn’t recognise you? Yeah, maybe you’ll be so incredibly fucking lucky and it’ll be a Christmas miracle and you’ll somehow have just disappeared from his memory.

Swallowing hard as you hear him move past a group behind you with an “Excuse me,” you rest your hands on the table, gripping them together.

“Hey, Callahan, where’s everybody else?”

Oh, his voice has changed. It’s deeper, rougher.

“Oh, well, Powell said he and his wife are gonna come later when he finishes his shift, and Jones, Davids and Williamson are over there, they’ve been waitin’ to get a drink for ages.” Callahan laughs delightedly, and Karen joins in, giving a slightly nervous one.

It draws Hopper’s attention and you don’t dare look up to see his expression but there’s a note of surprise in his tone.

“Karen, hey, you doin’ okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” And then she panics. “We’re just having a night out.” And then she panics more when she realises what she’s said, and that she’s gestured at you, her eyes as wide as her now somewhat manic smile.

Oh. God.

Lifting your head, you automatically smile, your features frozen.

“Hi.”

Hi.

He looks from Karen to you, and you’re suddenly subject to the full force of Jim Hopper’s gaze for the first time in decades.

Oh. God.

You can’t help it; the memories of the last time you saw him flood your mind.

“Hop’, are you even listening to me?”

He swiftly puts down the ball of rubberbands he’d been picking at on your desk, his eyebrows raised as he looks to you.

“Yeah, yeah, course I am.”

Your own eyebrows rise even higher, your hands lifted. “What, then?”

He tilts his head slightly, grazing his teeth over his lower lip. “’What’, what?”

“You weren’t fucking listening—”

“No, I was,” he quickly says at your weary sigh, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees, an easy smile pulling at his lips. “C’mon, just repeat the last part.”

You’d once found this all charming and endearing.

Your hands going to your waist, you exhale another breath before folding your arms, managing to calm yourself.

“What are you gonna do after school?”

Hop’ shrugs, leaning back again. “I don’t know. What are you gonna do?”

It was just the answer you’d feared, and expected. Licking your lips, you glance down at the carpet before steeling yourself and meeting his gaze again.

You can do this.

“I’m thinking of moving.”

He nods, his smile returning. “Okay, where?”

“I don’t know. New York, maybe. There’s jobs there and I have a friend there, I could stay with her for a bit.”

“Or we could get a place together.”

You stare at him, feeling your stomach twist.

“So... you’re, you’re just gonna follow me where I go.”

“Yeah.” His brow dips slightly, the smile still there, though it’s hesitant. “Aren’t girlfriends supposed to be happy when their boyfriends say that?”

“Yeah, but... What do you want to do?”

Hop’ shrugs again. “I don’t know. I know I wanna be with you, though.”

You’d once have quietly swooned at that and given him a fond smile. Now, though... You want more.

“Hop’, I don’t... I don’t wanna be one of those high school couples that just sticks together because they’re together. I want you to actually want this.”

He’s frowning again, confusion starting to set in. “I do.”

You say it quietly. “I don’t think you do.”

He stares at you, all traces of his smile gone. Then, he scoffs, leaning back in his chair a little more as he folds his arms.

“So now you’re tellin’ me what I do and don’t feel?”

“No, I just, I want you to have some drive, some ambition, not just go along with what I say and do.”

“I go along with it because it’s what I want.”

You can feel tears stinging at your eyes but your mind has also been made up.

“I don’t think it is, I just think it’s easy and safe for you.”

“Stop tellin’ me what I’m feelin’!”

His voice raising makes yours, too.

“Am I wrong?”

He looks at you like he has no idea who you are, and for some reason that really pisses you off because you don’t really recognise him anymore, either.

“Why are you pushing me away?!”

“I’m not, I—”

“Where has all this come from, then?!”

“I don’t know if I want this!”

Silence falls.

You swallow thickly as he stares at you, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but... y’know, Karrie and Teddy, they... I look at them and at Joyce and Lonnie and they’re so happy, they know what they want, and they can’t wait to get married and settled down, here, but...”

“You don’t want that,” he finishes for you, quietly.

You speak after a moment, your tone matching his. “I don’t.”

“You don’t want me.”

That sends a knife through your heart because honestly? You have no idea.

Shaking your head, you close your eyes for a moment. “No, yes, I... I don’t know. I care so much about you, but... I just think we’re on different paths.”

His gaze drops as your words linger in the air. Clearing his throat, he glances up at you again.

“What if we just take a break, for a bit. Or I can come up and visit you, in New York.”

He’s just a boy, you suddenly think, your heart breaking.

Biting at your lower lip to stop it from trembling, you give a small shrug. “I think that wouldn’t be fair on us both.”

He nods slowly, his jaw moving, and you’ve never seen him this distant. Raising his eyebrows slightly, he stands.

“Seems you already had this all figured out.”

“No, no, I didn’t, I just don’t want to be unfair to you—”

“Could I have said anything that would have changed your mind?” His quiet words silence you, and you have to stifle a sob.

“... No.”

Hop gazes at you, and after several moments he nods. “Good luck with everything.”

You’d burst into tears the moment he’d left your room. The front door had slammed shut and as you’d sat on your bed and cried and cried you’d heard his car door slam, too. You’d cried for days, going between telling yourself you’d made a huge mistake, and then that you’d done what was best, that he didn’t appreciate you like he used to and it wasn’t your job to fix him and coach him through life and that... yeah, you’d fallen out of love with him.

You hadn’t just lost a boyfriend that day, though, you’d also lost your best friend.

You loved Karen but there was just something different about Hop’, something that made you feel safe and like you could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge. As you’d moved away and the months had gone on, several triumphs and bad days had happened, and all you’d wanted to do was just pick up the phone to call him and tell him. You’d stopped yourself every time.

Then, at some unremarkable point, you’d just stopped getting that urge, and life had moved on.

Oh, it certainly had moved on.

You stare at him, trying to look without looking. You can still see the face of the teenager you once knew, though with the beard and the lines at the corners of his eyes he’s very much a man now.

God, is he a man.

He was tall when you’d known him, but is he taller now, somehow? Had he had another growth spurt in his twenties? His hands are huge, too, and he’d been confident back then but it had come from cockiness whereas now he just seems quietly so, more sure of himself.

And you have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. He’s staring at you so expressionlessly that you believe for a moment or two he actually has forgotten you.

Then, he speaks

“Hey. Been a long time.”

Hey. Been. A. Long. Time.

Said like you didn’t once whisper “I love you” to each other and share every single secret you’d ever had.

Then again, all you’d been able to muster up was a ‘Hi’.

You’re still smiling and you don’t know how to stop.

“Yeah, it has.”

“How are you?”

“Fine, thank you, you?”

“Yeah, good. You home for the holidays?”

“Yep.”

He runs his fingers over his mouth as he nods, and oh my God, he’s attractive. Is he, or is it the alcohol?

Wanting to banish the thoughts from your mind and distract yourself, you quickly continue.

“I’m staying with Karen.”

“That’s nice.” It’s said absolutely expressionlessly. “Just ‘till the new year?”

“Uhm, indefinitely. I’m, I’m working, uh, going through, uh, I’m moving, at the moment.”

“Okay. Well, I hope it goes okay.”

Oh my God, he’s winding down the conversation. He’s gonna go.

And you’re still smiling.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, he glances at Callahan. “I’m gonna go and check in with the others, see how they are.”

Callahan just nods once, his gaze flicking from you to Hopper and back again with utter confusion.

Rising, Hopper glances from Karen to you.

“See you around.”

“Yeah, bye, happy holidays,” you answer, Karen possibly unable to speak.

His lips move slightly, possibly into a faint smile. “Yeah, to you, too.”

And then he walks away, heading for the bar. Staring at where he’d just been sat, a slightly strangled sound releases from the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, oh my God...”

Looking to Karen, a whole range of emotions are flashing across her face as she tries to find the most comforting one. She fails.

“Oh, babe, oh God, that was horrible.”

“I know, I just, I forgot how to have a conversation, my voice got so high.”

“It did, I don’t know why you did that.”

“Neither do I, oh my God...” Putting your head in your hands, you then quickly lift it after a moment, pressing your lips together as you raise your hands. “Whatever. It’s fine. Let’s just, please, move past it. It’s over, I got it out the way, it was civilised, it’s done.”

“You’re right, you’re so right, please let’s forget it. Let’s drink.”

“Yes, please.”

You tap your glass against Karen’s as she raises it, and both take a long drink.

Oh, God.

That had been... so uneventful you don’t quite know what to do with yourself. In all the times you’d thought about how this exact moment might go, you’d never thought it would be uneventful. You’d imagined yelling, or crying, sometimes even laughing, but this...

Well. It was really like it had meant nothing at all.

You don’t know why it’s getting to you so much. You broke up with him. Of course he’d have moved on and left it all behind, God, you have as well. You’ve both lived your lives, gone through so many things and come out the other side and... A break up when you were teenagers kind of pales in comparison.

Yeah. It’s all fine. In fact, you know what, you’re relieved. It’s mature. It’s done. That’s it. You don’t have to be best friends with him again, for fuck’s sake.

Lowering your drink, you don’t realise your internal monologue has played out on your face, eyes widening and narrowing. Looking up, you find Karen and Callahan staring at you.

Licking your lips, you shrug. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Who wants another drink?”

You’re out of your seat and heading to the bar before they can respond. Karen sits back in her chair as she blinks, watching you stride away.

“Can someone just please tell me what’s going on?” Callahan bursts out, his hands raised.

“Oh, God, sweetie...” Karen sighs, reaching for her drink again. “... I have no fucking clue.”

—————————————————————————————————

24th December 1982

“Ughhh... Oh, God...”

It’s not your own groaning that wakes you, but that of someone else.

Cracking open an eye, you stare up at the ceiling as the groaning continues.

Uh, my mouth is so dry...

Licking your lips, you turn your head and find Karen on the other side of the bed, her hair bedraggled and spilling across the pillow, mascara halfway down her face, lipstick smeared. Turning her own head, she looks at you and groans again.

“Am I alive?”

“I think so,” you rasp, and she groans mournfully.

“Ughhhh... I don’t even remember how we got home...”

Closing your eyes, you scratch at your forehead, trying to remember yourself.

You’d gone to the bar, drank, drank a lot, maybe danced a little, spoken with your old classmate, Jessica? Justine? and then... Oh, what was his name again...

“Callahan,” you murmur, your throat aching. “Callahan brought us home.”

“Oh, yeah... Didn’t we ask him to turn on his lights?”

Your lips twitch as you recall how you’d both screamed with joy and whooped and cheered as he’d turned on the lights, waving your arms from side to side.

You snort and she glances at you. A laugh escapes you as you think about the absurdity of it all, and then she’s laughing, too, her cackle loud and delighted.

“Oh my God... Ugh, that was fun...” she sighs, her smile lingering.

“Yeah...” you murmur, stretching your legs out.

“We’ll have fun tonight, too.” She pats your hand, exhaling a breath. “If we just... If we just sleep ‘till noon, and then we can start preparing the house... Maybe even two, it won’t take long...”

You hum, closing your eyes, and, yeah, sleeping a little longer does sound like a good idea... Besides, when you’re unconscious, you don’t have to think about a certain embarrassing event that happened...

Perfect.

You focus on the softness of the bed as Karen snores lightly beside you, already fast asleep... Yeah... the joy of unconsciousness...

—

“... Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock... Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring... Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun... Now the jingle hop has begun...”

Adjusting a plate on the table, you straighten and blow out a breath, trying to stifle a yawn.

I really can’t handle a night out anymore.

Brushing your hands together, you turn, surveying the party that’s in full-swing. It’s only a couple of hours in but it’s already a success. People are talking, laughing, dancing, singing, eating, drinking, having a merry old time in general really. You feel more proud than you would have thought as your gaze drifts across the room.

You’d had to shake Karen awake at half one, both of you practically dehydrated and feeling not so fresh. After drinking copious amounts of water, showering, changing and finally eating, realising you were both starving, you’d flown around the house together, tidying, cleaning, cooking up food, putting drinks out and decorating. It had been another whirlwind but a wonderful whirlwind. You’d had so much fun, and hadn’t thought once about The Incident. An hour before the party was due to start, you and Karen had gotten ready, selecting slightly more festive outfits than the ones you’d worn last night.

Now, she’s in the kitchen, laughing at something a neighbour is saying, while Mike and Nancy talk in separate corners with some of their friends who have turned up, and Ted, who’d you’d finally bumped in to and greeted, was sat in his armchair, talking with a guy who looked slightly desperate to get away.

The doorbell chimes and you catch Karen’s eye, waving your hand and mouthing, “I’ll get it,”, as you’ve done so for the last few chimes.

You have to carefully push your way past people on the way to the foyer, which is surprisingly empty. Moving to the door, you grip the handle and pull it open, a smile already on your lips.

“Hey—”

You cut yourself off, pausing as you stare up at the man.

Hopper stares back at you, shoulders slightly hunched from the cold, hands in his pockets.

"Hi,” he says, glancing behind you briefly.

"Hey,” you repeat, your heart pounding.

... Whaaaaaat is he doing here?

As if he’s somehow heard your thought, he clears his throat and raises his eyebrows a little. “Uh, Callahan said we were invited.”

Oh, fuck, yes, you’d forgotten Karen had insisted he come, and you, jokingly, had said, ‘Hey, why not invite Hopper, too?’

Haha. Ha. What a hilarious joke. What a hilarious little joke that Callahan clearly hadn’t taken as a joke so it is now real.

Just as you realise you haven’t answered him, he clears his throat again. “Should I—”

“Oh, no, God, sorry, come in.” Holding the door open, you step back, gesturing with your other hand into the foyer.

He steps in, glancing at the party beyond before he turns to you as you close the door, looking up at him.

You’re staring again.

Swallowing, you point at the stairs. “Uh, coats are up here, I’ll show you.”

Before he can answer, you stride to the steps and ascend, gripping the bannister.

Ooh... Ooh, what’s happening... What am I doing...

You’ve shown the last few people up to where the coats are being kept, just in case you can’t see them out, but this is... This is rather intimate.

You hear him behind you, following you up, and you make yourself exhale a long breath to try and calm your heart.

Be an adult.

The coats are being kept where they usually would at a Wheeler party; the guest room, AKA your room. It’s one of the reasons you’ve been basically escorting people up to it, not wanting them to linger in there or have a stranger possibly go through your things.

Pushing the door open, you step in to the dimly lit room and gesture at the bed that’s piled high with coats, scarves and jackets.

“Just here, leave it anywhere.”

He stands in the doorway, hands back in his pockets.

“I’m actually not stayin’ long, I’ve got a shift soon.”

Your hands drop. “Oh. Okay...” You can’t stop a slight frown from crossing your features. “Why did you come up, then?”

Hopper meets your gaze, his jaw moving minutely. “‘cause I want to talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

You’re sweating, your fingers flexing by your side.

Okay, here we go, he’s gonna yell at me and tell me everything he’s been holding back, here we go...

Shifting his stance, he leans against the doorframe, his gaze holding yours. “Listen, last night, I... I’m sorry I left so abruptly. That wasn’t, uh... polite of me.”

... Well, that’s not what you’d expected.

Your lips parted, you gaze at him. “Uh, no, no, no, it’s fine, I, I completely get it. It’s, uhm...” You pause, swallowing. Then, you smile faintly, and just say it, your voice dropping slightly. “... It’s weird, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it is.” He lets out a laugh, and for some reason the sound of it warms you. “I was a little taken aback when I saw you, I was totally unprepared.”

“Oh, me, too.” You exhale a laugh, your smile easing. “I wanted to say so many things but my brain wasn’t quite connected to my mouth.” You laugh again, though it’s more nervous this time, because you know if you don’t say it now, you never will. Your tongue gliding across your lips, you raise your hands a little. “Look, Hop, I...” Fuck, it feels strange saying his name again. “... I’m sorry for how things ended between us.”

Hopper’s already shaking his head before you’ve finished, a slight dip to his brow. “Don’t be. I think it was the kick up the ass I needed, and I knew you were right. Took me a little while to admit that, but, yeah.”

“Still, I could have given us a chance—”

“We were kids,” he cuts you off gently with a light smile, shrugging. “Neither of us knew what we were doin’ or how to handle somethin’ like that.”

You snort. “I still don’t.”

A corner of his mouth lifts a little higher. “Yeah, me, too.” Grazing his teeth over his lower lip, you watch him as he seems to consider something, your cheeks heating slightly at his intense gaze. “... Stop me if I’m, uh, treadin’ where I shouldn’t, but, and I’m just connectin’ the dots here, you said you’re stayin’ in Hawkins indefinitely, is that because something similar has happened?”

You give a faint smile, pointing a finger at him as you raise your eyebrows. “Yeah, you got me. I, uhm...” Here we go... “... I broke up with my fiancé. Or, he broke up with me, actually.” Your smile widens a little more. “Good connecting, you must be a great Chief.”

“Well, I do my best.” He looks sympathetic in a way that is mercifully not pitying. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I feel like shit every day, but, it was for the best. He was an asshole. I just didn’t want to see it.”

“How come he did the breaking up, then?”

You fold your arms, exhaling a breath. “He met someone else. Didn’t even bother to hide it or save my feelings. Just told me.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, it really did.”

“Still,” he nods his head at you, “you seem much better off.”

You feel a little proud at that, because, actually, you feel like a mess. “Thanks. Karen’s letting me stay here until I figure out what I wanna do. I don’t even know if I like my job anymore or if it’s just everything that’s going on making me feel like I hate it, or maybe I have hated it for a while and I just don’t want to admit that to myself either.” You catch yourself from continuing, releasing a sheepish laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m just rambling on now, you can go back down—”

“Nah, it’s okay, I like listenin’ to you.”

He says it so sincerely, holding your gaze, that you don’t quite know what to do. Biting at your lower lip briefly, you look away for a few moments, your fingers twisting together.

“Well... Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You can hear the smile in his tone, so you look up, and God...

You’ve missed that smile.

His expression is so soft, too, so gentle and...

No, no, no, no... No, it’s just because you’re sad and it’s Christmas and—

Clearing his throat, he leans an arm against the chest of drawers beside the door.

“Y��know, I... I’ve thought about you over the years, thought about reachin’ out. I heard from someone years ago that you were in New York and I... I told myself I was gonna look you up but... I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Didn’t know if you’d even want to see me.”

A smile pulls at your lips, your chest aching slightly. “I think I would have.” Biting at your lower lip again, you take a breath. “... I’ve thought about you, too. Sometimes I think about if I made the biggest mistake of my life in leaving you.”

He blinks, before quickly smiling, shaking his head. “Like I said, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

“I know.”

You’re gazing at each other again, quietly.

Don’t.

Clearing your throat, you make yourself smile. “I’m so sorry, I should have offered you a drink, I—”

“Would you like to go out for a drink?” he asks, so swiftly that it’s as if he’d been waiting to. “So we can catch up properly?”

Staring at him, you feel something quietly ignite within you. He looks somewhat nervous, and for some reason it calms you instantly.

A softer smile returning to your lips, you nod. “I’d like that.”

One corner of his mouth lifts a little higher than the other as he straightens, his hands falling to his sides. “Good. Okay. I’ll call. I gotta head out now, sorry, I just wanted to drop by before my shift.”

He wanted to drop by... to see me.

Trying to contain your smile, you move towards him, heading for the door. “It’s okay, I’ll walk you out.”

“Thanks.”

You head down the hallway and stairs in silence, your heart fluttering wildly. You’re suddenly very aware of your body, and of his right behind you, and oh my God, when was the last time I felt this way?

Pulling the door open, you hold it for him as you smile.

“Well, I hope your shift goes okay.”

“Thanks.”

He’s stood before you, a hand in his pocket, and he doesn’t move.

Then, his other hand moves to rest on your arm gently as he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

Oh, fuck.

His lips brushing against your skin makes your heart stop and every inch of your skin warm. It’s brief, far too brief, and when he pulls his head back to look at you, you desperately hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel.

Giving a slightly breathless smile, you hold his gaze. “Merry Christmas, Hop’.”

The smile he gives in return has you feeling a way you know you haven’t in years.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

—————————————————————————————————

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bettydice · 3 years

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Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated [Read on AO3]

CHAPTER 9

Saturday

The sun doesn’t show itself today. Heavy clouds block the view, and a strong wind is blowing. At least it’s not raining and this way, there aren’t many other people around. Lan Xichen doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all. He seems excited to be here, happily shows Jiang Cheng all his favourite spots. Sometimes he’ll say things like “This blooms in May and has the most gorgeous blossoms, we have to come back then!”. As though there’s no question they’ll still be doing things like this together then.

Everything goes well until they sit down in Lan Xichen’s favourite favourite spot: a bench hidden behind the swaying branches of a willow, overlooking a little pond.

They’re sitting close together, shoulders and legs touching, holding hands, seeking each other’s warmth as protection against the wind. In truth, it’s not very windy in this spot, the trees around them creating a buffer, but Jiang Cheng sees no reason to not be as close to Lan Xichen as possible.

They’ve been sitting there in peaceful quiet for a few minutes, Jiang Cheng mentally going through whether he really has everything he needs for dinner later, when he looks from the pond to Lan Xichen’s face. He looks… he looks sad. There’s a tension to his jaw and a crease between his eyebrows that would look more at home on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Should he ask him? Should he start talking about something random to distract him? That’s what Wei Wuxian would do, but Jiang Cheng is not good at talking nonsense. His sister would simply radiate an aura that let Jiang Cheng know he could talk to her and that everything would be okay. Lan Xichen also seems to have that ability. But Jiang Cheng is...himself.e doesn’t have any intrinsic soothing abilities. He can only try to imitate other people.

He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand to get his attention, and sees how Lan Xichen quickly masks his sad expression with his usual gentle smile before he turns his head to look at Jiang Cheng. That’s… that’s not what Jiang Cheng wanted.

“Are you okay?” The words feel clunky on his tongue, like he’s using these words for the first time. Which is not the case! He’s not that much of a lost cause.

Lan Xichen’s eyes widen just the tiniest bit, then deepens his smile and Jiang Cheng is sure he’s about to say that everything is fine. But instead Lan Xichen hesitates and… he drops the smile and sighs. “I was just reminded… The last time I was here, it was still spring. That tree was still in bloom.” He points at a tree across the pond. The wind is attacking it, leaves desperately trying to hold on to the branches and losing the fight. “It reminded me how stuck I’ve been… still am, really. Just drifting from day to day. I tried to recall what I did this summer and nothing memorable stood out to me.”

His first instinct is to disagree, though it’s not like Jiang Cheng can’t painfully relate to that feeling. “Well, you’re busy with your job and your bunnies and plants. And… time is bullshit anyway.”

Lan Xichen chuckles but quickly turns solemn again. “It hasn’t been long though since I started working again… you’re only my third client after my… let’s call it break.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know that. He didn’t know things had been so bad for Lan Xichen that he couldn’t work. At least he thinks that’s what he’s saying. He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand again, not sure what to say.

“I’m not saying this because… The fact that I’m working again shows that the past year hasn’t been in vain. I just… the world didn’t wait while I tried to heal.”

Jiang Cheng has nothing helpful to say, even though he can painfully relate to this feeling. Feeling stuck in one place while the world keeps turning, while other people seem to be able to forget and move on. He hopes his quiet support is enough for Lan Xichen.

They both look at the tree for a long moment. One of the struggling leaves gets torn off, but then gracefully loops through the air until it gently comes to rest on the water surface.

Lan Xichen turns to look at Jiang Cheng and smiles, without sadness. “But I think today will be memorable.You are.”

What the fuck? How can he just say that so casually? Jiang Cheng feels his face grow hot, while Lan Xichen just looks at him.

In lieu of an appropriate spoken response that doesn’t only consist of incoherent garbled noises, Jiang Cheng uses Wei Wuxian’s tried and trusted ‘Hey look, over there!’ tactic: “Hey, I saw online that there’s a lovely café close to the entrance. Let’s go there and treat ourselves to something nice. It’s your birthdate after all.” Ugh, fuck Nie Huaisang and his stupid word creations. “Your birthday date.. Not date. Whatever. Only if you want to, of course?”

Lan Xichen’s mouth twitches with amusement, but doesn’t call Jiang Cheng on his bullshit. “That sounds lovely. You’re right, it is my birthdate.”

Jiang Cheng snorts a laugh, then gets to his feet, pulling Lan Xichen up with him.

The café is indeed very nice and thankfully pretty empty. Lan Xichen orders a chocolatey drink that could rival one of Jin Zixuan’s sugar-coffee-monstrosities and a piece of cake topped with colourful sparkles.

“I’m going to regret this later,” he cheerfully announces before tucking in.

Jiang Cheng keeps a close watch on his face while eating his own brownie and black coffee, not wanting to risk missing a shift in his mood like last time. Even though Lan Xichen stays cheerful the entire time, Jiang Cheng keeps watching him anyway, because he can’t look anywhere else.

As it turns out, it was a very good idea for them to go to that café, as dinner… takes a while. Jiang Cheng may have severely underestimated how long it would take to prepare all the different side dishes he wants to make and may have severely overestimated how much food is a good amount for two people to make. Oh well, it’s always good to have leftovers. To his relief everything tastes really good. Though maybe not too surprising, since he got most recipes from his sister.

After dinner, they sit down on the couch, both a little tired after eating so much food. Jiang Cheng is busy mulling over how to best initiate, well… cuddling, when Lan Xichen turns to face him, smiles, and kisses him.

Jiang Cheng takes this opportunity to put his arms around Lan Xichen’s shoulders and pull him closer, all while enthusiastically kissing him back.

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen huffs a laugh against his lips, then pulls back a little. “I’ve wanted to do that since… the whole day, basically.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, we were in public. And then you were intensely focused on preparing dinner. I thought it was better to just quietly chop the things you threw on my cutting board.”

Lan Xichen is only teasing him, Jiang Cheng is pretty sure about that, though he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. He instantly squashes that feeling though, because: “We’re not in public now.”

“No, we’re not.” Lan Xichen lifts his hand to Jiang Cheng’s face, his thumb caresses his cheekbone, then he slowly slides his hand down until it’s resting on Jiang Cheng’s neck. “So…?”

Jiang Cheng either nods or shakes his head, he doesn’t know, he only knows Lan Xichen kisses him again, draws him close, hand secure in his neck.

They haven’t done this before. Kissed so deeply, unrestricted by location or time. The intensity is overwhelming and it’d be so easy for him to overthink this. Are his kisses gentle enough? Passionately enough? Hands - where? What’s his dick doing? But this kiss is too nice to have it ruined by such things. So he focuses fully on the kissing, opens for Lan Xichen after he teases his lower lip with his tongue and just allows himself to get lost in it.

Lan Xichen’s hand keeps wandering lower and lower, until it’s resting on Jiang Cheng’s hip, fingers touching the waistband of his jeans through his sweater. He wants to feel his hand directly on his skin, but is not sure if that’s where this is going, if Lan Xichen would want that too.

After a while, Lan Xichen ends the kiss so they can catch their breath. He smiles down at him, which is when Jiang Cheng notices he’s somehow lying on his back now.

Lan Xichen’s face is flushed, his hair in disarray (because of Jiang Cheng’s hands! Another thing he only just now realises), his eyes dark, his lips red… Jiang Cheng reaches for him to pull him into another kiss, but Lan Xichen doesn’t let himself be pulled just yet.

“Is this okay?”

Jiang Cheng follows his gaze down to where - oh - Lan Xichen’s hand rests on his waist, under his sweater. “Oh... yeah. Yeah.” Then, in a move not supported by any brain cells, he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath. Lan Xichen looks stunned, of course he is, because Jiang Cheng skipped straight to undressing for no reason. Maybe it’s because he’s so used to undressing in Lan Xichen’s presence, maybe because he knows how it feels to have Lan Xichen’s hands on his body and he wants them there, wants to-

Lan Xichen kisses him again, his lips as hot as his hands, fingertips pressing into Jiang Cheng’s back.

Jiang Cheng is having an out of body, no, out of mind experience. He’s very much inhabiting his body, feeling everything. How his skin is hot everywhere their bodies touch, Lan Xichen’s mouth on his jaw, his neck, the familiar slide of Lan Xichen’s long fingers, now touching him in a way he’s very decidedly never done during his massages. He’s never gripped his hip to pull him closer, has never sighed against his mouth.

In the few moments he has access to his brain, he desperately uses it to make sure he’s kissing Lan Xichen just as intently, that his touch is just as gentle, that he somehow remembers to breathe during all this… There’s no room for anything else.

He gets lost in it completely, until eventually Lan Xichen breaks the kiss again.

“Maybe we should… I should probably go home…” It sounds like a question, so Jiang Cheng answers.

“You don’t have to.” He feels even hotter after he says this, probably flushing. It’s not like it’d come as a surprise to Lan Xichen that Jiang Cheng is aroused, not the way they’re pressed together, the way Lan Xichen now drags his heavy gaze from Jiang Cheng’s face down his body and back up again. He’ll be able to see that Jiang Cheng wants him to, would let him… that he wants everything. Lan Xichen holds his gaze, his hand tightens on Jiang Cheng’s hips as if he wants to keep him right here, underneath him. As if Jiang Cheng would want to go anywhere else right now…

Then Lan Xichen’s face softens, he loosens his grip and he closes his eyes, laughing quietly. Oh. So not today. “I… I want to. But…”

“No, don’t worry! That’s okay. I was just… it’s too-”

“I want to,” Lan Xichen says emphatically, looking directly at him. “But it was a long day. A lovely day, but…” He falters, his eyes now looking at Jiang Cheng’s cheek instead of his eyes. A few seconds pass, Lan Xichen’s brow furrowing as he’s looking for the right words. “I’m actually quite exhausted - a good exhaustion! But I had to feel a lot today. … If that makes sense at all?”

Jiang Cheng takes Lan Xichen’s face between his hands and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course.”

Lan Xichen sighs relieved, then sits up and tries to straighten his hair, a hint of embarrassment tugging at the corners of his mouth. He does look a little tired, now that the haze of lust has dissipated between them, and Jiang Cheng can see more clearly. Jiang Cheng feels the exhaustion, too, as though he’ll fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“What time is it?” Jiang Cheng asks while following Lan Xichen into a sitting position, then lifts his arm, because he’s wearing a goddamn watch so he can answer his own fucking question. “9 p.m.? What the fuck… how long did we…”

Lan Xichen only hums, clearly amused, and bends forward, so he can hand Jiang Cheng his sweater and t-shirt from where he’d carelessly thrown it on the floor. While Jiang Cheng struggles to put them back on, having to first untangle the shirt from the sweater before deciding to just not bother with the t-shirt, Lan Xichen yawns extensively, and for some reason, with his sweater only halfway on, Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to say: “You could spend the night here.”

Lan Xichen just cocks his head at him, slightly raises his eyebrows. Saying ‘Didn’t I just decline your horny offer’ without actually saying so.

“No, I meant - “ Jiang Cheng manages to jam his arm in the other sleeve and is now mostly dressed again. “I meant, you could sleep here. So you don’t have to go home first. Like, on the couch - it’s not actually that comfortable though, so I should take the couch… But you probably want to sleep in your own bed, sorry.”

“Actually, I think that sounds lovely,” Lan Xichen says, then looks surprised at his own words. Jiang Cheng is surprised, too. “Would it not be a bother?”

“For me? Not at all!” Jiang Cheng thinks his brain has never fully come back online after their kisses. Words leave his mouth and he doesn’t know where they came from. He keeps spewing them out, unable to stop. “But… you don’t have any… like pyjamas or a toothbrush - do I have a spare toothbrush? I think there was a buy two get one free sale recently?”

Why isn’t Lan Xichen interrupting him to say ‘You’re right, I’ll go home immediately so you can stop embarrassing yourself.’ Instead he just looks at him, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Uh, but breakfast. Well, there’s definitely enough food in my fridge now after dinner. Do I have - no, I have extra bedding, of course I do.” Okay, it’d be neat if he could stop talking now. Jiang Cheng grabs a pillow and presses it against his stomach, the next best thing to screaming into it. He focuses really hard and tries to find a sentence that can function as some kind of end point. “But... you... probably? Have to… take care of your bunnies anyway?”

Lan Xichen is still only looking, head slightly cocked, but now his lips are twitching as though he’s trying hard not to laugh. A few seconds later, he does laugh, and hot shame courses through Jiang Cheng. He really made it obvious he doesn’t have a lot of experience with asking people to stay over. (Usually it just happened naturally after sexual activities of one kind or the other. He’s never asked anyone to stay because he… Why did he ask? Because he doesn’t want Lan Xichen to leave just yet?)

Lan Xichen notices how Jiang Cheng’s expression changes to regret; he stops laughing and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… It was just fascinating to see you voice the kind of thoughts I was probably about to have in a few minutes myself. Now I don’t have to, so, thank you.”

What? “You’re welcome?”

“And the bunnies will be fine. Wangji visited them tonight anyway.”

“Okay. So…” Jiang Cheng seems to have used up all his words before. It’s probably better that way.

“So, I wouldn’t mind staying over.” Lan Xichen smiles at him warmly, fondly. He stands up and tugs on Jiang Cheng’s hand. Jiang Cheng follows him up easily.

“Oh. Okay. That’s great! Cool.”

“Do you want to check whether you have a spare toothbrush?” There’s that twinkle in Lan Xichen’s eyes that always takes Jiang Cheng by surprise, but that he loves to see. It reminds Jiang Cheng it’s okay to just be in Lan Xichen’s presence, and it restarts his brain. He huffs a laugh, his shoulders relaxing, and goes to look for that toothbrush.

As it turns out, Jiang Cheng did have a spare toothbrush, as well as the lounge clothes Lan Xichen lent him after Cloud peed on him and Jiang Cheng kept forgetting to return. He also had a second set of bedding, though nobody ends up sleeping on the couch. Jiang Cheng isn’t entirely sure how that happened, he just knows that it’s shortly after midnight, Lan Xichen is lying next to him, sleeping next to him, and Jiang Cheng is scared to move in case it wakes him up.

He has barely moved since they turned off the light almost two hours ago. Usually, he turns and twists a lot before he falls asleep, because his tense shoulders make it difficult to find a comfortable position. The position he is in now is definitely not comfortable, in fact, his right shoulder might be cramping up a little. It’s been two hours, Lan Xichen is probably deep asleep by now - it’d be okay to adjust his position a little, right? He’ll be careful, he won’t wake him.

Jiang Cheng slowly rolls over on his left side, quietly slides his hand under his pillow and pulls one leg towards him. He glances towards Lan Xichen, to make sure he didn’t wake him, only to lose five years of his life, as Lan Xichen is returning his look, eyes wide open.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jiang Cheng whispers, he tries to, anyway. His voice still feels too loud. It always does.

“Of course not,” Lan Xichen replies with perfect talking-in-the-middle-of-the-night volume. “You haven’t made a sound since we laid down.”

“Can’t sleep?” This time, Jiang Cheng’s voice comes closer to Lan Xichen’s softness.

Lan Xichen’s face is only barely visible in the darkness, but because Jiang Cheng knows it so well, his mind can fill the shadows with memories of the day. He can see his eyes, though, reflecting the moonlight that sneaks through the curtains.

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen adjusts his position, face inching a little closer to Jiang Cheng. “It’s been a while since I shared a bed with someone.”

“Me too. I’m scared to move in case I disturb you.” These things are easier to admit in the dark.

“Mhm.”

Lan Xichen sounds so sleepy; Jiang Cheng regrets asking him to stay. If he hadn’t, Lan Xichen would be soundly asleep in his own bed right now. “I’ll go sleep on the couch then, I should have done that from the start, sorry.”

As soon as he says that, Lan Xichen throws his arm across Jiang Cheng’s body. “No, stay.”

“Oh, okay. Are you sure?”

Lan Xichen throws his leg over Jiang Cheng’s legs, too, then pulls him closer until Jiang Cheng can feel his breath on his face. “Very sure.”

“Okay.” Jiang Cheng moves his right arm a little, so his hand lies between their chests and isn’t in danger of brushing against Lan Xichen’s crotch anymore. “Yeah, okay.”

“This way we don’t have to worry about accidentally touching the other,” Lan Xichen says, his smile hard to make out in the darkness, but nevertheless beautiful. He moves back his leg, but before Jiang Cheng can miss the touch, he slides it between Jiang Cheng’s legs. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng is surprised to find that to be actually true. Knowing that the warmth he feels is not his blanket, but coming from Lan Xichen, the reassuring weight of his arm... He splays his fingers, so his little finger brushes against Lan Xichen’s chest.

Lan Xichen hums, content, and for a while they just lie like this, quietly. Until Jiang Cheng feels the urge to talk again. It must be a leftover from the year he shared a room with Wei Wuxian until they moved to a bigger house. Wei Wuxian always started chatting as soon as they turned off the light.

“Technically, there is a second bedroom here. I just never go in there.”

Lan Xichen strokes his hand across Jiang Cheng’s back, to signal that he’s listening.

“It’s Wei Wuxian’s room. Well, it was supposed to be. And now...” Now it’s just there, reminding him every day of how he fucked things up.

“You’re not using it?” Lan Xichen asks gently. It’s not a reproach, he simply wants to know.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head, then says ‘No’ out loud, in case Lan Xichen couldn’t see it.

“Because you’re waiting for him to come back?”

“I... No. Yes. Maybe? I generally avoid thinking about it. You’ve seen what happens when I think about it.”

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen keeps stroking his back. He’s not moving his arm, just lightly moves his hand back and forth. “If it was empty, what would you use the room for?”

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to think about it, since he’s never done that before. “I don’t know. I guess… an office? But I don’t want to waste a whole room for my shitty degree. Maybe… I could turn it into a proper guest room, for when Jin Ling gets older. Maybe he could stay over sometimes.”

“That sounds nice. You could still put your desk in there, it helps to have your work space separate from your living space.”

“Yeah… That makes sense, I suppose.” The thought of changing it from Wei Wuxian’s Room to something else doesn’t fill him with the dread he expected, surprisingly. He does know, somewhere deep in his heart, that even if they reconcile, Wei Wuxian won’t move in here. Shouldn’t. They were horrible roommates, if he considers it honestly. There’s no reason to hold on to this old bitterness, no reason to still let it poison his mood. “I should do that.”

“I’ll help you. I like redecorating.”

Lan Xichen says it so matter of fact, Jiang Cheng can’t help himself - he has to kiss him. He closes the last remaining distance between them and gives him a short, sweet kiss. He doesn’t move back after, just stays there, as close as possible.

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me to your home,” Lan Xichen whispers against his lips.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure this is something he should be thanked for. Compared to Lan Xichen’s flat, his is unremarkable. “Uh, thank you for coming over.”

“It means a lot that you shared your space with me.”

It’s weird being this close. He can only see blurry shapes instead of Lan Xichen’s face. But his voice is so clear, even though he’s whispering. He can feel it when he talks, the movement of his lips, his chest under his fingers. Jiang Cheng has never experienced this kind of intimacy. It’s exciting but he’s also a little scared what kind of secret this atmosphere might drag out of him. “Well, it’s only fair, since I’ve spent so much time at your place already.”

“Still… I was… “Lan Xichen hesitates. He slowly cards his fingers through Jiang Cheng’s hair while mulling over his words. “It means a lot.”

Somehow, Jiang Cheng understands. Lan Xichen’s words shape the form of an old wound. Or maybe a scar, by now. He presses another kiss to his lips, though misses by a little and only catches the corner of his mouth. “Even though I don’t have any plants?”

“You’re right, we need to change that.”Lan Xichen laughs quietly and pokes Jiang Cheng’s foot with his big toe. “I like it here. Even without plants.”

“Not much to like. Yours is much nicer,” Jiang Cheng mumbles.

“You live here,” Lan Xichen replies, as though that’s answer enough. Maybe it is. It’s not an answer Jiang Cheng can deal with right now, so he just makes a noise in between a hum and a scoff.

They fall quiet again, and Jiang Cheng closes his eyes after a while. He thinks he could finally fall asleep like this, lulled by the soothing rhythm of Lan Xichen stroking his hair.

“I like your hair like this.”

It takes Jiang Cheng a second to realise that he should reply, that he’s still awake. “Mhm?”

“You usually tie it back.” Lan Xichen lets one strand of hair run between his fingers, then tucks it behind Jiang Cheng’s ear.

“I should cut it short again. Been months. A year.” Jiang Cheng wonders if it’s possible to fall asleep while talking. He’s surprised by every word that manages to squeeze through his tired lips.

“I like it.”

“You like a lot of things. My flat, my hair, my face…”

“It’s true. I do.” Lan Xichen is smiling, Jiang Cheng can hear it.

“Me too. Like yours. You.”

“Mhm, that’s good.”

Jiang Cheng falls asleep then, but Lan Xichen’s presence follows him into his dreams. He sleeps very well.

#xicheng #the untamed #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #cql #modern au #To Meet You verse #betty drabbles

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Seductive Tendencies ~ JHS [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.2K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: Hoseok x reader

↬↬↬Warnings: None

↬↬↬A/N: I know you asked for a reaction post for this one but I couldn’t seem to do it without all of them being the same so I hope this is okay instead xxx

You'd always been seen at the quiet nerdy one wherever you went, even inf school you were the shy girl that did as she was told and never spoke back to the teacher. You never stepped out of line and nothing changed even after you left school and joined the BigHit staff, you were just an outfit stylist that worked with a bunch of BigHit employees for years and everything had been fine. You faded into the background, no one bothered you, you kept yourself to yourself but it all changed when you were switched from GFriend's team over to the BTS one and you met Jung Hoseok. Jung Hoseok the man who made your heart pound, your mind race and your hands sweaty, he made you feel like you were floating whenever you were around him but he'd never noticed you before. The only times you'd ever spoken were when you had to style him for a music video, a photo shoot or for other events that you helped with.

"You're drooling," One of the stylists - Mieko - said when she came into the changing rooms that morning, you rolled your eyes at her and went back to sketching the outfit you'd been working on. As well as working as a stylist you were taking night classes to become a designer, it had been a dream of yours since you were a teenager.

"Just go up and talk to him, we've all seen the way you look at him." She dropped down beside you on the small leather sofa and stared over at Hoseok, he was sitting in a makeup chair laughing along with the makeup artist who was doing his makeup.

"He doesn't even know I'm alive, I'll stick to my fading into the background. It worked great before." She sighed and laid her head down on your shoulder. Mieko had been a close friend since you started working there, she'd always been able to back you up on ideas when you didn't have the courage to speak up about them and she was always there when you needed her. You thought of her like an older sister and it was nice to have that kind of connection with someone,

"Besides, he likes girl like that," You pointed your pen over at one of the other stylists who was wearing a short mini skirt with a crop top on it, scribbled on the top were the words - 'Send me dog pics'.

"He likes girls who are confident, smart, pretty, and funny...Everything that I'm not." You mumbled looking at Hoseok, he'd never so much as even glanced in your direction before.

"Well then, we're going to have to give you a makeover, bring out that inner confident you that I know is somewhere inside, and you're already intelligent, gorgeous and hilarious so we have nothing else to work on." You jabbed her with the pen as she made your cheeks heat up from the sudden compliments,

"I mean it. This weekend you're cancelling any existing plans and we're going to shop until we drop - or until I decide we have enough, then we're going to find the confident version of you and force her out of you!" People turned around to see what the yelling was about and you groaned putting your head down and going back to the sketching that you were doing.

"Y/n! You're needed on set," You smiled at Mieko and handed her your book,

"Take this, and I'll agree to shop but not to a makeover." She looked at you as you walked away, she couldn't believe how blind you were to Hoseok's attraction to you. He was always gazing after you, watching you when you were in such deep concentration you thought no one was looking, lost in your own world as you drew on a pad of paper. She was going to have a lot of fun with this one and she knew that once she made you over, Hoseok would find it strenuous to hide his feelings longer than he had been hiding.

The heels you were wearing hit the floor and send shivers down your spine, you'd spent the entire weekend at Mieko's planning and getting yourself ready for the Monday and here you were. Walking down the halls of BigHit going to find Jimin and Namjoon to get them ready, they had a music video shoot in an hour and they were the only ones who needed alterations on their outfits. You were about to round the corner when you bumped straight into Jimin, his hands grasped onto your arms to stop you from falling and he looked you up and down. Usually, he wouldn't even look you in the eye but today was different, he was checking you out and biting down on his lip.

"I need you in changing room 4 please." You said to Jimin as he finally let go of you but he was still staring at you, as if he was trying to figure out who you were.

"Y/n?" You nodded and he smirked at you while nodding his head,

"I'll go wherever you want me baby," You scoffed at him and pushed him in the direction of the changing room you needed him in before going to find Namjoon. Knowing him he would be locked up in his studio working right until the last minute of you needing him. You knocked on the door and heard his usual annoyed tone, he always got annoyed when someone walked in on him.

"I need you in the changing room," You said as you pushed the door open, his eyes locked onto you and the red dress you were wearing. It clung to every curvature of your body perfectly and you looked like you could have been posing for a billboard.

"R-Right, yeah...Changing room...Which er... Which changing room?" You giggled softly at how nervous he seemed to have gotten. You hadn't expected any of this but it was boosting your confidence a lot more and you suddenly felt like a new person, you weren't the shy stylist you were the confident you that Mieko told you was there.

"Four," You laughed walking out of the studio and towards the changing rooms to find Jimin waiting anxiously for you, he was pacing around when you walked inside and you frowned.

"You alright? It's just some alterations Jimin, we've done it a million times before." You grabbed your tape measure and dropped down on your knees in front of him, running the small white tape measure up the side of his leg and making sure the length was perfect.

The whole day had been filled with the boys randomly flirting with you, offering to take you out to lunch or to buy you something. It had been completely different to what you were used to but there was a small part of you that loved the attention, it was nice having someone to talk to at work and the playful banter was nice too. Hoseok had bee silent throughout the whole day though, usually, he was the bright smiley one but today he'd been walking around with a glare on his face and whenever one of the boys would go up to you he seemed to walk out of the room - as if seeing them flirting with you bothered him.

"Why haven't I noticed you before?" A male worker asked as you stood in the line to buy some food, you stared at him. He has a reputation in the BigHit building for sleeping with every stylist and makeup artist, breaking hearts wherever he went and not caring about what he did.

"I've been working here longer than you, maybe you've been blind." You didn't even want to give him the time of day after he broke Mieko's heart but he was continuing to try and flirt with you while you waited in line.

"No, I think you're new. I would have noticed someone of your..." He sucked in a breath while he tried to think of a word, looking you up and down while he did so.

"Attractiveness, I bet they've been hiding you away from me, telling you stories." He stepped closer to you, his chest pressed against your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Hoseok stared from across the room the grip on his coffee cup getting so tight that the cupboard broke and spilt all over the table,

"Ugh- Fuck - Hoseok!" Yoongi said ready to get angry at the boy for knocking coffee everywhere when he noticed Hoseok was already gone and storming over to you. Hobi couldn't think straight, all he wanted to do was punch the guy for touching you when you clearly didn't even want to speak to him.

"Oh Hey, tell Namjoon I'll be up - Ugh." The guy was grunting as Hoseok punched him in the nose,

"Hosoek!" You yelled but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the line and out of the canteen towards the halls of the building,

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" You questioned but he ignored you and pushed you into one of the small storage rooms on the bottom floor, blocking the door with his back.

"What are YOU doing? You're all dressed up and flirting with everyone...Where did your glasses go? I haven't seen you sketch all day..." You stared at him as he listed off the things you'd never knew he noticed before,

"I've been working - I got contacts, why do you care if I'm flirting." You whispered back to him, his face turned a red colour as he realised how close to one another you were. You had barely any room to move inside the small space he'd dragged you into,

"I care because you're flirting with everyone, everyone is looking at you like you're some kind of prize for them to claim and you're eating it all up." You were still left confused as he gave you his reason for caring about your flirting then it hit you, he was jealous.

"Don't you like this me Hobi?" Your voice came out seductive and low as he bit down on his lip, you did a small turn in the room to show off the dress.

"Don't you find it hot?" You whispered in his ear, you had no idea where the sudden need to be like this for him came from but you liked it, you took his hands and placed them on your waist,

"I did this for you, you know...I just wanted you to look at me and find me hot." He hissed as he felt you press your chest against his, it was taking everything inside of him not to grab you and make out with you right there.

"I already found you hot," He groaned, you pulled back from him and stared into his eyes, suddenly the shy you was back and you were staring up at your crush.

"You d-did?" You stuttered out looking at him as he smirked at you, he reached out his hand and ran it over your cheek.

"I did, not that this you isn't hot but...the old you is the reason I like you." His hands went back to your waist and he ran his thumb along your hip.

"You never spoke to me before,"

"You made me nervous," You snorted at his comment and he cocked his head to the side,

"I made you nervous? You make me nervous," He laughed along with you and shook his head,

"I could tell, whenever we had a fitting your hands would shake and you'd avoid eye contact with me." You felt your cheeks and ear begin to heat up at the sudden attention you were getting and he sighed not wanting this time with you to come to an end.

"It was cute, I have to go back before people worry but...Do you maybe want to go out sometime? Get a cup of coffee or something to eat?" Your heart raced as you realised he was asking you out on a date, a real date and not just because you were dressed the way you were.

"I'd love that, can you do me a favour?" He nodded and took his hands away from your body,

"Tell Mieko I went home to change, the heels and the dress are killing me." You giggled and he nodded laughing along with you,

"I'll tell you what, I'll drive you home and we can go out instead of working today. If your boss asks I'll say it's my fault," You couldn't even accept or deny what he was saying he just grabbed your hand and ran out of the small storage room with you.

Mieko watched from the pillar opposite the small room and looked at Jimin,

"I told you...I'm a genius. All he needed was a shove in the right direction," Jimin high fived her and laughed as he watched you and Hoseok running off towards the car park together hand in hand.

"They do make a good couple." He agreed wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Flower Shop Next Door (Yuta x you) ft JaeYong

I am here with a new Yuta x reader fanfiction and a side pairing of JAEHYUN X TAEYONG ... I hope this is fresh and fun and enough fluff plus smooth flirt from Yuta!

ENJOYYY

It’s another usual day, the ring of bell whenever a customer enters the shop.

“Welcome,” is a regular greeting you always say to everyone coming in, be it looking around the shop or making an appointment and going into the working station.

“Welcome and good morning to you!” you greet a guy with blonde hair covering his eyes and his lips are pursed when he sees the number of people in your store. You feel weird when you see the apron he wears around his body, where is he from?

“What can I help you with?” you move from your cashier station and walk to his side.

He shakes his head, “I am not here for an appointment, I just want to ask are those your customer’s cars?” he points to the small parking lot across your store.

You peek from his broad shoulder and count the cars, well there are four and two of them are parked on the other shop’s area. You remember there are four people right now in your store.

You cough, “Um I think so, why?”

He sighs, “Can you please tell them to move? They’re hogging my parking space and my customers cannot park at all.”

You nod your head slowly, “Well I am sorry, won’t happen again they’re about to be done in” you glance to your watch, “In 15 minutes, their tattoos are small.”

Yes you are working in a tattoo parlour and this guy over you, you wonder where is he from which shop actually because you have one shop on either side of your studio. One is a coffee shop and the other one is a flower shop. They’re both new shops and you’re the oldest shop here.

“I am from the flower shop next to yours, please tell your customers to not park their car there.” He runs his eyes around the waiting room. It’s totally different from his shop, there is no sweet fragrant, no soft colors all black and dark. He did not see any sign of flowers or plants here and that looks horrible for a Nakamoto Yuta.

“Looks like you make beautiful tattoos here,” he scans the pictures of tattoos you print and portray around the room.

“Yeah, our customer’s satisfaction is priority here! We accept custom tattoos too, maybe one day you want to consider making one, I’ll do yours! Discount since I messed up with your parking lot.” You feel bad that his customers must walk further.

“It’s okay just make sure this do not happen again.” He smiles and your heart flips. He sure looks super handsome with the healing smile on his face, “Oh we haven’t properly known each other yet, I am Yuta.” He reaches out his hand and you smile as you shake his hand, “(y/n). It’s nice meeting you!”

He nods his head, “Well, I just want to tell you that. Maybe we’ll see each other more often. Come to my shop when you’re bored or have a break. You might be interested in placing fresh flowers here in your store.” He winks.

You laugh, what a smooth way of flirting and marketing. Yuta sounds like a fun guy!

“Sure I’ll hop in once my rush hour is over. I just realized we never visit each other nor do we know one another! Ironic isn’t it that we’re even sharing one of our walls together.” You laugh and he laughs too.

“Okay then (y/n), I’ll go back and see you!” he waves and leaves your shop. You can see his silhouette turning to the right and you’re more than curious to see his shop. Or maybe you just want to see his smile once again.

You’re occupied by some more clients and you are looking forward for lunch break.

On the other side of the store, Yuta enters the small shop filled with fragrant and colourful flowers.

“And? Did it work well? Does she want to understand you?” A man with pink hair asks his friend about the discussion.

Yuta nods his head, “She’s cool about it, even asked apologies. You should see her works Yong, they’re nice.”

His friend, Taeyong, just hums a yes and focuses himself again on the flowers arrangement he wants to put on the display case.

The flower shop is also in high demand today, they’re the only fresh flower boutique in the block and people love the quality these two agile men make.

“You’re smiling wide, did she catch your attention? Haven’t seen that smile since your last breakup.” Taeyong nudges his best friend who is working with an unusual smile and energy. Well usually Yuta is cool and stoic, there is not much emotion and that is how they can run a good business. Taeyong is warm and many older customers loves his service, but younger one love Yuta’s cool image and thus choose to buy flowers there too. It’s a business strategy for them, but actually it’s just their true image.

“She doesn’t have any flowers in her shop, must be a bit crazy.” Yuta tries to deny the fact that he indeed finds you cute too despite the dark shop you run.

“And she must see you like some sort of soft guy, who’s a good boy and won’t make tattoos.” Taeyong teases him back, well what is the point of denying your heart right?

“Yak! I am just thinking maybe we can give her flowers and she can be a regular customer.” Yuta snaps his fingers, “Smart marketing strategy right?”

Taeyong shakes his head, “If you like her, just give her some.”

Yuta doesn’t reply anything instead he’s busy greeting the people coming inside.

You want to quickly end your shift today and maybe treat Yuta for a coffee, mostly because you still feel bad about hogging his parking area and also because you want to know him more.

“Who was that earlier?” your friend, Jaehyun appears from the working space behind you and asks you about the discussion with Yuta.

“Oh it’s the guy from the flower shop, his parking area was used by our people. I feel bad, should I bring him coffee?” you look to Jaehyun, he’s a best friend of yours and his works are also cool.

Jaehyun shrugs his shoulder, “I know the other guy who works there, Taeyong and I guess the one here earlier is Yuta right?”

You gape in surprise, “How did you know them?”

He taunts at you, “because when they opened, I went to congratulate them and get to know them, unlike you who really like to just sit there and daydream.”

You smack his arm, “I must be working on someone’s drawing! I am not that rude.” Your voice softens towards the end, or maybe you are careless.

“Yeeah yeah, just buy them coffee. I think there are only two of them, but to make sure maybe you can take some peep.” He pushes you and you almost fall.

“You’re annoying. I hate you.” You roll your eyes when he sends you a flying kiss “I love you too! Now see and buy them coffee. You may even win their numbers. I want the pink guy’s number if you can get it.” Jaehyun winks and you just shudder. Ugh your longest best friend who you sadly hate and love at the same time is a pain in the ass.

Luck must be on your side because when you take a look from the windowsill, a lot of customers are inside and you can see that the only people in uniforms are just two men there. Jaehyun was right there are only two of them and oh they both look good.

You make your way to the other shop beside you and order two coffees,

“Hey Mark!” you greet the barista today, well you’re a regular here and he knows you well.

“Oh (y/n)! Pumpkin spice latte?” he asks for he knows you love that in fall time.

You shake your head, “Give me two caramel macchiatos, to go.”

He notes your order without much question, and you leave the room after thanking him.

You knock on the door and enter when the pink haired guy see you. The shop is less crowded now, you see Yuta focusing on arranging a bouquet while Taeyong handles the cashier.

You take a look around the bright store, you love flowers! You’re great in making flower tattoos and you did not know the two hot men here are running a really nice flower shop with various flowers.

The last customer leaves the room and Yuta’s eyes meet yours. “Oh (y/n)!” his voice comes out warm and the light in his eyes is twinkling. Taeyong clearly stifles back a laugh and tries to put on a poker face.

“Yuta, I’m here just to drop you guys coffee. An apology for what happened this morning.” You hand them the coffees and they’re glad for it.

“Wow, thank you! You don’t have to do this.” Yuta nervously chuckles.

You smile, “Oh it’s okay also I feel bad I never greet you guys. My friend Jaehyun even knows you already but I haven’t.”

They nod and drink their coffees, “It’s from Mark’s shop?”

You hum and walk around the store to see their flowers, “I think Yuta is right, I need some flowers for my store.”

You turn your heels and face them, “Pick a nice one for me please?”

Taeyong nudges Yuta, the blonde man shyly walks to your side.

“I suggest some Peonies for good fortunes,” he shows you the flower and you like it.

“Please make it nice and do you have vase?” they nod “Perfect!”

With that Taeyong takes out some Peonies and tidies them up for you, he places it inside a vase. “Oh let me take this to your store, Yuta will assist you. Let me see where it looks best.” Taeyong leaves without another word and here you are alone in the shop with Yuta.

Yuta feels he is weird, but he seizes the opportunity to know you more.

“How much are those?” you ask but Yuta shakes his hand, “No need. That is from me and Taeyong.”

You force him to charge you but he doesn’t want to.

“Fine what can I do in return?” you give up when he decline your cash.

Yuta smiles and wipes his hand on his apron, then leans into the counter and stares into you with that loving gaze. You’re drowned in his beauty and oh why didn’t you know him earlier.

“I prefer you accepting my offer for lunch tomorrow?” he places his arm over his chin and you just want to press his cheeks because oh he looks so dreamy.

You nod and blush, “I guess that’s a nice deal. I’ll see you tomorrow then, I’m quiet sure Jaehyun will be pissed if I am not back any sooner.”

Yuta grabs your hand before you can leave, “Oh trust me, before Yong goes back he’ll be preoccupied.” Yuta winks and your jaw drops. Did the two of them hang out frequently.

He laughs and picks out a lavender rose, “For you, look up the meaning and tell me tomorrow the answer. Yong is here, you should return.” He ruffles your hair and you confusedly walk out of the store. Taeyong says good bye to you too and his face looks super happy.

Puzzled, you shake your head and walk into your store. There, Jaehyun is taking a picture of the fresh flower arrangement. Taeyong places them in a nice place and you try to process everything.

“So, you won his number already by yourself?” you tease your friend when he’s already busy texting with his phone.

Jaehyun snaps his neck to you and hugs you quick, “I didn’t know what you did there, but thanks for sending Taeyong here to send the flowers.”

You push him away before he can smooch your cheek, “He walked here by himself! I didn’t even ask him to do it.”

Jaehyun’s ear turn red and you clap your hands, “Looks like it’s not one sided this time Jae!”

Jaehyun laughs and you also feel happy for him. “Oh what is that?” Jae points out the flower in your hand.

You smile looking at it, “Yuta asked me to find the meaning and answer it tomorrow on our lunch.”

He gasps, “Lunch? So fast! Yak congratulations girl! You’re no longer solo!”

You roll your eyes, “What the hell.”

He suddenly types into his phone quickly and gasps, as he shows you his screen.

You squint your eyes and read the article he showed you.

Your smile grows and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Yuta sure is a great florist and a flirt!

You know that tomorrow will be a nice day and you’re excited to tell him you know the answer.

Yes a lavender rose means love at first sight and guess what that flower is super rare, Yuta just happen to have a bunch of those lying around the store today, before a customer bought all of it.

Yuta also knows what kind of tattoos he might make when he has time, of course lavender rose with your initial on it!

endddd

thank you for reading 💖🤗

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nakedmossy · 4 years

Text

Depth Over Distance - Part One [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I haven’t found a hometown Rudy fic yet soooo I wrote one. I have no idea where this story is going to go and I’m honestly finding it hard to get out of writing JJ and get into writing Rudy, but here we go anyways. I wanted to write something where the reader and Rudy were hometown friends before he moved to LA, and to explore the idea of how that would change/what it would look like when he comes back. Get ready for a S L O W. B U R N. my dudes. Peace and love, Mossy x]

The sky was grey and the air was wet - it had been raining for 4 days straight. You sat in your car with the heat cranked, your window down slightly so that the humidity didn’t fog up your mirrors. Living on the Alaskan coast was beautiful most of the time but horrible some of the time, especially when you had to waste gas just keeping warm and dry at 6pm in the beginning of ‘Summer’.

You had never lived anywhere else aside from the summer you spent in Vancouver with your cousin when you were 19. Now, at 23, you were working full time at the local bookshop that was an 8 minute drive from your house in the winter and a 20 minute walk/skate in the summer. Your car was parked street side, waiting for your friend Lizzy to finish her shift at the cafe. The smell of the rain and the Ben Howard song on the radio made you nostalgic about the times you and your friends from high school had spent hours skating down these streets, beers in your backpacks, no helmets, dirty shoes and clothes, no pressure, no responsibilities, no cell service...no worries.

Since graduation a lot of your friends had moved out of town, either to Anchorage or down to Washington, or further south. Your best friend Lizzy had stayed close to home, helping run her families business and working part time at the cafe. You had stayed local too...your dad owned a fishing guide business and your mom was an admin assistant for the MD in town, but neither made enough to cover all the medical bills you had racked up over the last few years. You figured once the debt was paid off you might leave...but you had no idea where you would go.

You missed all of your friends, but you missed the boys the most, aside from Lizzy you didn't have a lot of female friends, and your boys had been like brothers to you. You spoke to most of them every few weeks on FaceTime, except Rudy. He had gone to LA for awhile and had kept in touch loosely, but after the first few months he started to drift.

You felt the loss the hardest for Rudy. He had been your closest friend the longest, you had spent nearly every day of every summer together since you were 9, and every school year you worked the same part time job at the seafood restaurant on the water. Now, the last you heard, he was coming back for the summer to ‘reconnect’. You had low expectations and tried not to let yourself get excited, but truthfully, you wanted him to spend some time at home and be around his own kind again - he had always been a homebody and you were worried that being gone for 4 years would go to his head or change him.

Lizzy tapped on the glass, causing you to blink out of your reverie and smile at her. You rolled the window down and let her reach in and open the door from the inside (the handle had been broken since high school). She threw her backpack and skateboard in the back seat, climbing in and closing her door.

“Ugh.” She grunted as her teeth chattered and she rubbed her bare legs.

“You know its only May, you shouldn’t even be wearing shorts yet. The snow just melted.”

Lizzy glared at you playfully and put her hand out to do your handshake. You did it, then put the car in drive and started slowly down the street, windshield wipers moving rhythmically.

“How was the shift?” You asked as you checked your mirrors and wiped some humidity off the rear view.

“Same old” Lizzy leaned back in her seat and pulled the visor mirror down to fix her hair. “That old man Collins from the cannery keeps coming in and harassing me.”

“Jack? The one with the eye patch?”

Lizzy nodded dramatically as she held the bobby pins in her mouth and started to twist her straight black hair off her face.

“That guy-“ She finished placing the final pin and slammed the visor closed “-Is an absolute creep.”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He’s like...70. And widowed. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude. Im just...asserting my boundaries.”

“You literally have a 3 foot counter between you at minimum, at all times.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is we need hotter men in this town. Like...soon.”

You nodded in agreement and felt your eyes wander all over the road, remembering the time you and Rudy had taken your longboards down it after a torrential downpour and you had crashed and gotten such bad road burn that he had to call his dad to come pick you both up because you couldn’t walk.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening?” Lizzy cut back in, staring at you.

“No, what?”

“I said, speaking of hot guys, I heard Rudy is coming back for a few months.”

You pinched your face and looked at her then at the road, then back at her.

“Rudy is not hot. Rudy is....Rudy. What are you talking about?”

Lizzy looked at you disbelieving and closed her mouth, trying not to smile.

“What!” You repeated, smacking her arm.

“Hey!” She laughed, then shook her head and looked out the window. “Whatever you say man, I just think....” She grabbed her water bottle and began to screw off the lid “I just think...he’s not gonna be the same Rudy that left 4 years ago. He’s like...a movie star now.”

You couldn’t even begin to touch that one. You knew what she was doing...she was always harping on you about going on dates or taking trips with her to the mainland to hook up with the pilots during their layovers. You never went, and always insisted that you were just fine and were not interested. She never listened. Part of that was true...you were fine, and usually not interested. But sometimes, when the water was calm and the sunset was colourful and the fish were jumping and your beer was cold...you wished you had someone to share it with.

“I’m going up to Skagway this weekend with my dad” You said, changing subjects. “He’s short a guide and needs someone to drive the boat.”

“Lucky you” She said sarcastically, screwing the lid back on her bottle. “Another weekend spent with men twice your age who have zero ability to catch a fish and even less ability to smell nice.”

“It’s good money.” You said flatly, annoyed that everything seemed to revolve around men with her. “And in case you forgot I’m kinda in need of that at the moment.”

Lizzy licked her lips and put her hands up, dipping her head.

“Alright...noted. Chill out Kemosabe.” She giggled under her breath and looked out her window, drawing a small penis in the moisture on the window.

“Babe, seriously. You need to get laid.” You said, shaking your head.

“I know” She replied, working on the veins. “Trust me. Im in a state of national emergency by this time of year.”

Lizzy was absolutely one of the girliest girls (and most beautiful girls) in the south of Alaska, which was ironic considering the house she grew up in. Her dad was an overweight German restaurant entrepreneur who had opened a world class seafood restaurant in Juneau back in the 90s and had shacked up with her mother who was this drop dead gorgeous Haida warrior woman who you had literally seen kill and skin a bear with her own hands.

They had forged this chain of restaurants local to Alaska that people flew hundreds of miles to eat at, but still lived in an off-grid cabin that hadn’t been insulated since 1960 and used wood heating. Not really the type of family that screamed southern belle femininity - yet somehow Lizzy came out of that union with a pink bed set, refusing to ever wear camo or sweatpants, and still had never shot a gun - which her mother reminded her of weekly.

Lizzy had hit puberty at 10 and had used her breast advantage over every girl in your class for the next 3 years like some sort of distinction of better genetics, as if she needed boobs to prove that. Unlike you, she was naturally thin and tall (6ft to be precise), had long, thick straight black hair and olive skin, and perfect hips. You felt like a prepubescent boy standing next to her, with your uneven complexion and your frizz and your awkward thigh fat distribution. You were envious of her genetics - her mother graced her with the body of an athlete and the thick black hair, and her father had given her height and cheekbones that could slice through glass. You looked down at your arms, covered in freckles, pasty white from lack of sun, and cringed, looking back at the road.

You turned the corner leaving the main road and starting on the dirt road that led to your favourite part of beach access. Lizzy pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and took off her seatbelt, leaning forward to pull it down over her head. You leaned forward and looked up, this was your favourite part of the drive. The dirt road which was lined with moss and ferns and other foliage wound along the base of the snow capped mountain that was at least 1000ft in elevation. The mist and fog from the coast was thick and creeped through the tall cedar trees, black ravens and falcons flying overhead stark against the white mist. This was the most idyllic picture of northwest coastal living you could find.

When you parked at the trail head Lizzy slipped off her work flats and into her Teva’s, you grabbed your yellow Vans out of your trunk and slipped them on. You usually drove bare foot, a habit you had started in high school after Rudy had thrown your shoes off the dock at the restaurant and you had to drive home without any. You grabbed your sweater and your backpack which had the beer in it. As you were both gathering the rest of your things...beach blanket, hats, and rain cover, you heard a car pull up behind you. You stood up out of the trunk and squinted to see the car through the fog. It was a black ford pickup you had never seen before.

“Who’s that?” Lizzy chimed in from behind you.

“No clue” You said as you lifted your hand to wave once.

The truck had tinted windows and looked brand new. When it pulled up beside you, the drivers side window began to unroll, revealing Junior - your high school (ex) sweetheart.

“Holy” You said, eyebrows up, nodding. “Nice truck - where’d you steal it from?” He rolled his eyes at you dramatically.

“Whatever kid - its a rental. Got it to drive to the airport in.” His chest puffed out and his expression read so proud.

“Airport?” You said inquisitively. “Since when does Alan pay you to drive new trucks to the airport?”

“Since Rudy hired him for the pick up service and apparently is incapable of driving his own ass around anymore” Junior snorted and waved at Lizzy.

“Or he doesn’t have a car here anymore” You noted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Either way, I get this bad boy for the next 24 hours and I intend to give her the royal grand tour of our humble town.” He ran his hand up and down the steering wheel, stroking the new leather. “Wanna go for a rip?” He said, winking. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well I do” Lizzy piped up from beside you, walking closer to the window. She smiled at Junior and began to put her hair in a pony tail. She nudged your arm as she began to walk to the passenger side door. “Come on, granny. Let’s go!”

She laughed as she climbed up into the truck, but you shook your head again.

“I’m good...you kids have fun. Say hi to Rudy for me” You said to Junior, who shrugged his head and muttered ‘definitely wont do that’ under his breath.

Lizzy blew a kiss at you and waved once before Junior put it in drive and started to go up the dirt road north of you.

Junior and you had ended on okay terms, but he had concocted a theory that you had broken up with him because of another guy, and the unspoken suggestion was that that guy had been Rudy. Small town guys had a heck of a time with the idea of girls and guys just being friends.

You sighed and watched as the truck disappeared around the corner, and turned back to your own car. You grabbed your backpack and slammed the trunk closed, walking down the path alone. You weren’t mad at Lizzy for going with him - she was flighty and bailed on you at the bar all the time - but you were mad the beer was going to go warm before you could drink it all. Not that you should even be drinking 6 beers alone by the water when you had to drive yourself home. Doubtful the 2 cops in this town would even be awake to see you though. Whatever.

You reached the end of the path and rounded the corner, revealing the coast line and the rocky beach. It was your favourite place to sit and think, sit and smoke, sit and be yourself. The beach curled in a U shape, giving you a private spot where the rest of the shoreline was blocked from view and all you could see was the ominous cedar forest that stretched up the mountain, the snow caps at the top, and the horizon over the cold pacific.

You had intended to share the joint you had in your pocket with Lizzie, but...well, her loss. You spread the blanket out on the softest patch of sand and rocks you could find (which still meant you were guaranteed to get at least 2 rocks in the ass) and placed your bag down, kicking off your sneakers. You took a deep breath for the first time in a few days and lit the joint, taking one long, deep inhale. You felt it tingle through your chest and your arms and legs almost immediately, relaxing you. Being here alone always sent you into a spiral of memories and thoughts that you worked hard during the day to suppress. Most insistent lately had been thoughts about your health problems. You called them ‘health problems’ but in reality it was just an eating disorder. You could go 2, sometimes 3 days without eating anything, and never felt hungry. It started after graduation.

You had lost weight, dramatically, going from a stable 120-125 to 95 at most and 90 at worst, in the span of a month. And for the next three years you had never gained it back, you had stayed at a relatively stable 95, which still left you looking sickly and too thin at 5’3”. Your frame wasn’t built for that kind of weight drop, you were Scottish and Cree, sprinkled with a little bit of German and Irish. A classic northwest cracker mix. You weren’t naturally small, you always had a bit of something to grab onto, but it was normal to your body, healthy.

Some part of your brain knew that it had something to do with leaving school...and the pretence that came with that. The expectation...the responsibility. You were never that kind of person, and it never really bothered you, but suddenly it had. You never planned to go to University right away, but you had no back up plan. It wasn't something you and your friends really talked about. But suddenly Jacob had gotten into U of Washington, Dan had left to backpack Europe, and Rudy had not so graciously announced he was deferring his acceptance and scholarship to culinary school because he wanted to be an actor, and flew to LA the next month. You had been left behind, with Lizzy of all people, and it had hit you hard.

You looked around the beach, dragging on your joint quicker than normal, trying to knock the thoughts out of your head. An Eagle screeched above - scaring you - and you laid back on the blanket, closing your eyes. You needed to chill the hell out. This was the first time in a few weeks that you had gotten a night off from helping your dad with his guide business and you didn’t plan on wasting it riddling your brain with anxiety and worrying about your body.

You looked up at the sky and watched the mist and fog kiss the clouds, the sunset colours dancing across them. As it usually did, the rain had stopped just as the sun was going down, the clouds parting briefly and letting the smallest sliver of sunlight through, just enough to burn the grey light out of the sky and allow the pink and orange hues to fade along the horizon. You sat up and cracked a beer, enjoying the fresh smelling air and the rhythmic sound of the waves licking the shore line.

Two beers in you had put on your jacket and placed your Bluetooth speaker next to you on the blanket, blasting a playlist that Rudy had made you for your graduation party.

Three beers in you took the jacket off, standing up and dancing by yourself on the beach to the music.

Four beers in you laid down on the blanket, balled your jacket up and used it as a pillow, and started looking for shapes in the stars.

Five beers in you fell sleep.

———

Many hours later, as the sun rose and was bright on the water and the early morning bird feed was in full swing overhead, you were drifting in and out of sleep to the squawking when a shadow came across your face, alerting you to groggily open your eyes.

“What’s up, Little Fern?” His voice had gotten deeper. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and blinked, raising a hand to block the sun. There, in your very awake and very not dreaming state, was the unmistakable silhouette that you had spent the last 18 years dreaming about and 18 years being a friend to.

Rudy.

#rudy pankow #reader x rudy #depth over distance #nakedmossywrites #jj maybank #outer banks #obx

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flyinginthetardis · 4 years

Text

Mismatched Time

a/n: yay!! after an eternity i have finally finished writing something :)) its my first time writing for twelve so i do hope that its okay. (a long time ago) i was inspired by the song “Sideways” from Citizen Cope and well i came up with this thing. Originally i had decided to make it really angsty but i apparently i went in a different direction and made it more fluffy-ish. i hope that you like it!

Pairing: twelfth doctor x reader (i would say its more platonic but you can think otherwise if you want to)

Warnings: maybe some swear words

summary: you go to earth to make amends with your parents and ask the doctor to come with you. He says he'll be there in 10 minutes but it turns out to be 10 years until you meet each other again.

“Ah. Home sweet home. I can't wait for dinner." You say as you put on your jacket and straighten any wrinkles from your clothes.

"Fancy dinner date huh?"

"What? Oh, no." You say incredulously while snickering.

"What's got you all dressed up like that then? Why are you wearing all these fancy clothes and weird stuff? I've never seen you dress fancy in your life. At one point I simply assumed it was impossible for you."

Your mouth opens in shock and closes once you can't think of anything to say. A frown crosses your face as you pace around the TARDIS console anxiously. "That's not true! I've dressed fancy many times. At like events and stuff."

"Oh really? Name one other time that you've dressed fancy. Come on. Prove me wrong."

You stutter and stumble after words trying to get the question to register in your brain and find any example. Anything at all.

"Uh...well..well-wh-what about that time we had to go to that fancy auction party event thing. I was wearing a dress and you were wearing a suit."

"Ha! That doesn't count! It was just a holographic image projected from a device on your t-shirt. I had one too but because I'm a Time Lord, I saw through the projections and saw you simply wearing a t-shirt and jeans."

"Ugh. Fine. I am wearing this 'fancy' outfit because I want to look good for my parents, who I am having dinner with tonight and have not seen them in a couple of years. When I came with you, we didn't exactly leave on the best terms and haven't really spoken since."

"Oh. Well, um, do you want me to come with you? Or..?"

Looking down at your feet, you let out a sigh while placing your head in your hands.

"Yeah it would be nice if you could come."

"Alright." The Doctor gave you a soft, reassuring smile as he moved around the TARDIS, pushing buttons and pulling levers on the console before arriving right outside your parents house.

"We're here."

"Guessed that much." Before either of you could say another word you run over to the Doctor and engulf him in a big hug. Burying your head in his shoulder for comfort and reassurance, you relax a little as he awkwardly tries to hug you back.

"I know you don't really like hugs but I really need this right now." Your voice is muffled against his clothing as you close your eyes, let out a large breath and remove yourself from him.

"Yeah, I know."

You smile at him as you pick up your purse from somewhere under the console sofa and walk over to the door, opening it halfway but not yet stepping out.

"So are you coming?" you ask playfully as your usual demeanor comes back.

"Yes, yes, but go without me, I'll come in ten minutes."

"Okay then, I'll see you soon." You shout from outside the TARDIS as you walk towards the spunky, modern house and close the blue doors behind you.

You stare at the oak coloured door in front of you, thousands of thoughts running through your mind. Deep, cold breaths left your lips as you dragged your fist towards the door; but before you managed to knock the door flies open. Warm air tickles your skin as you stare at your parents standing in front of you.

"Y/N!"

"Hi."

"Come in, come in. Dinner is almost ready." Your dad says warmly as he ushers you in and closes the door behind you.

As you take a seat at the table across your father, your mother emerges with a glorious array of food. You squirm in your seat as an awkward silence prevails.

"So, Y/N, where is that friend of yours that you said would come?" Your mother asks inquisitively with her cold eyes flashing and her question laced with poison as if she enjoyed seeing you intimidated.

"Oh, yeah, he uh, he said he would come in ten minutes."

"Oh, okay. I guess we should wait for him then."

Silence. You wait for ten minutes. Then twenty. Then thirty.

An hour passes.

Where is he?

"Well, I guess we should start because it seems like he stood you up." Your mother says sighing as her tone tells you that she is just utterly disappointed and a wave of criticism is about to come and crash onto you.

That asshat. Where the hell are you! You thought, clearly irritated. It wasn't as if he hasn't done this before and if it had been any other day, you honestly wouldn't mind as much, but this was an important day for you. He knew that. Didn't he?

You sigh and give in. "Yeah, maybe."

Your father passes you some chicken, potatoes and peas before adding some to his own plate. "Thank you."

"Not a problem sweetheart."

You cringe slightly at the old nickname as you pour some gravy over your food before going silent.

"Should we eat?" Your mother asks, finally sitting down with a plate of her own food.

"Sure." You and your father say in unison, grinning slightly at each other. The three of you dig in and as you eat you get lost in your thoughts and wonder about what happened to the Doctor.

***

You sighed as you watched the raindrops race down your window as you huddled up in blankets and drank hot chocolate to warm yourself up. It had been ten years since you last saw the Doctor. Ten years.

Not minutes. Not hours. Not even months!

Years. Years.

He left you for ten years. You despised him for it. And yet you still missed him. You tried to find him but it was just impossible. You sigh and take a sip of hot chocolate. You smile as the marshmallows melt in your mouth.

You pick up an old notebook beside and give it a sideways glance. It contained everything about the Doctor. It was your way of finding him, basically. But it had led to a dead end and so you gave up. Flipping through the old book you reminisce lightly about how hopeful you were those first few years. Snorting at the memory and throwing the book aside, you watch the raindrops patter against the window silently.

Going back to normal life had been hard. Harder than you expected.

Suddenly, you started. That noise.

Could it be?

You run and grab your keys from the glass bowl on the kitchen counter, hurriedly put on your shoes and run like hell down the stairs, not at all waiting for the elevator.

You stand outside and gasp. The TARDIS. You walk over to it carefully and slowly as if it was a frightened animal even though it was nothing of the sort. Your fingers graze the blue police box and you smile. You barely feel the drops of water on your skin as you examine the TARDIS incredulously.

"Hello, Sexy." You whisper to the TARDIS as you lean your head against the blue box. "I've missed you."

Suddenly the door opens and you step back.

"Doctor?"

"Oh hey Y/N! Is the dinner ready?"

"Dinner? What dinner?"

"The dinner with your parents of course."

You scoff at him and take another step back. "Oh that dinner? Oh I'm sorry to tell you but that dinner was TEN YEARS AGO!"

The Doctor blinks and his face gets serious. "What? No, it can't be."

"Check your calendar." You say voice dripping with malice and sarcasm.

The Doctor goes back into the TARDIS and you hear him mutter something angrily. He steps out of the TARDIS again and faces you.

"I am so sorry Y/N."

You scowl at him for a brief moment before giving him a huge hug.

"Don't you dare do something like that again or I will punch you so hard that I'll make you regenerate." You say into his shoulder before you calm down and slowly relax into his arms. You bury your head in his shoulder and the both of you just stay in that position for a while. Finally you release him from your hug and give him a smile. "I missed you so much."

The Doctor smiles and you take his hand, dragging the both of you out of the rain.

"Let's go to my apartment, it's much more cozy than standing dripping wet in the rain."

The two of you walk up the apartment building stairs and stop at a door with the number 321 on it. Your apartment. Walking in, you throw your keys back into the glass bowl on the kitchen counter and sigh happily before collapsing comfortably on the couch. "Come here." You say while patting the seat next to you. The Doctor slides onto the cushy seat next to rather awkwardly but you don't mind.

You lean your head on his shoulder and he slowly wraps an arm around your waist as you turn the TV on. "So what horrendous movie are we watching today?" He asks while looking at you pointedly.

"Hamilton."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing." He replies with a similar tone to yours and you eye him cautiously before letting out a small 'hmph' of annoyance. You narrow your eyes ever so slightly but make no response as you get ready to press play. However, before you can do so, he breaks the silence.

"What is that?"

"What?"

"That." He points at your head leaning on his shoulder and he has the hint of a frown on his face.

You groan and roll your eyes.

"Give me a break," you sigh and look up at him, not moving from his shoulder, "I mean you did leave me for like, oh yeah, ten years."

He sighs and stiffens at your response. "Fine." He mutters out sounding sheepish.

You let out another exasperated sigh and begin to move away, putting space between the both of you. But before you're able to get too far, he grabs your hand and shoulder pulling you back to him.

"Stay." He says as he kisses the top of your head gently, and props his head on top of yours, making you lean into him. You smile, and press play on the remote, finally being able to relax completely after such a long time. Content, you sigh softly and stare at the TV screen. All is well and everything is as it should be. For now, anyways.

a/n: hey so i didnt realize i posted this accidently lol but i was missing a whole lot of editing and was missing a chunk of writing at the end so sorry about that. i was wondering what had happened to my draft but now i know haha.

#twelfth doctor x reader #twelfth doctor #12 x reader #12th doctor #twelfth doctor reader inserts #reader inserts #twelfth doctor fanfiction #twelfth doctor angst #angst #doctor who angst #fluff #the doctor #doctor x reader #doctor who reader insert #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who x reader #nu!who #x reader

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littlespaceporgs · 3 years

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The Clone Wars Reacts - Part 5

Or Leah loses her shit at Jar Jar, thirsts for Aayla Secura for an episode and a half, and then swoons for Riyo Chuchi.

Welcome once more to the Reacts series! I’m a busy woman for now but I am setting up a schedule for this series which will be

Today we’re covering episodes 12, 13, 14 and BONUS! 15. This is because I got super bored during episode 14 and basically didnt write anything so, here you go! As per usual, major spoiler alert for season 1 of the clone wars! If you haven’t read the previous parts to this series, I suggest you do so that you can follow along!

Part 1 - Episodes 1 and 2 Part 2 - Episodes 3, 4 and 5 Part 3 - Episodes 6, 7 and 8 Part 4 - Episodes 9, 10 and 11

Tags (if you want to join, my taglist can be found on my page!): @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @girlvader @simping-for-fives @littlevodika @hounding-around @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @onabouteverything @acciokenobi @catsnkooks @captainrexstan @roseofalderaan @fractiouskat

We’re well past the half-way point, so there is 2 parts left of season 1, and then onto season 2! So lets get into it!

Episode 12: The Gungan General

> heheheheheheheh jar jar I am KEEN

> I get hondo and jar jar in one episode

>> this’ll be funny

>>> actually no scratch that, this is gonna be hilarious

> oh and they woke up in a cell this will be fun

> HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AND THEYRE BOUND TO DOOKU

> DISASTER I TELL YOU

> “if I keep my mouth shut you’ll devise a plan so get off the god forsaken planet?” “YES”

> this dude seems traitorous as fuck (im referring to one of the pirates, not dooku shockingly)

> I wish Ahsoka and Yoda were in this too, I want more disaster lineage

> ah he is indeed a traitor

> “HEIDY HO CHANCELLOR”

> JAR JAR WHOO

> “stop messing around, we’re landing. Secure yourself” “MESA TRYING ITS STUCK”

> promptly followed by jar jar falling everywhere

> oh and now he’s in the cockpit

> oh shit that senator guy is definitely dead right?

> “do control tour protégées insolence” “anakin, control your insolence, the count is concentrating”

> “do we know where we’re going?” “Ssh anakin” “DO we know where we’re going?”

> is it safe? Of course it i- riiiiiight

>> I forgot this was the clone wars for a second, this is gold

> FRIENDS DONT DRUG FRIENDS HONDO

> y’know, dooku’s quite amusing when he’s not trying to kill my favourite characters

> “are you now in command” “uh no, binks is the highest ranking” ooooohhhh boy

> ooooooohhhh and some mind tricks too, nice

> I hate to say this, but jar jar is actually smart

> holy shit

> beasties are nearby too, we’ll be fine. they run, we run

>> Dayum jar jar actually making good decisions?

> I present a real and accurate image of my reaction to this statement

> Mesa be having an idea oooohhh booooyyy

> obi wan that is no way to speak to your grandmaster

> be patient master the count is elderly and doesn’t move like he used to

> I would kill you both now if I didn’t have to drag your bodies

>> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH this is the only reaction I’ll accept

> then falling all over each other is the only thing I’ve ever needed to see

> “ this is not going well” no shit

> my question is why did obi wan not drop Dooku?? Does he actually still care about this man?

> you’re right, I don’t think youre going to be friends 🤦‍♀️😂

> sneaky lying snake

> bruh they don’t even know you’ve got the Jedi captive??????????

>> so how does that work you dumbass

> no shit, you will look like fools obi wan

> “there be some bombad clankers” 😂😂

>> “huh YOURE right, bombad clankers” I love the shock

> YOURE RIGHT HE IS SMARTER THAN HE LOOKS, GIVE JARJAR SOME CREDIT

> oh boy anakin, just keep your mouth shut genius

> man electrocution doesn’t look like fun

> HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

> The next few lines of confused joy are me reacting to jar jar somehow single handedly taking out 3 tanks

> what the fuck

> JarJar I I’m what-

> JUST DID A GOOD THING, I DONT REGERT THIS THING AT ALLLLLLLL

> fuckin JarJar was great

> “KILL HIM HES NOT A REPRESENTATIVE, HES A PLAGUE” I’m ded 💀😢💀

> serves you right you snake, now dooku gonna choke your ass

> oooohhhhh that’s how these two twits (hondo and obi-wan) became friends

> “and... he knows where you live” Oof the subtle threat is real

> hem I love obi wan very much and his sarcasm

Episode 13: Jedi crash

> I JUST SAW AAYLA I AM EXCITED I AM ALSO ATTRACTED TO HER VERY MUCH

> SHES HOT

> I LOVE HER

> AND HER VOICE JUST MAKES ME ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

> I wish I was bly, not gonna lie

> I have a quick question - the 501st colour is blue right? Then why do they have a gold squad, doesn’t the extra colours just confuse things?

> I love seeing anakin and Ahsoka in action coolest thing to watch

> And anakin

>> I am also quite attracted to him

>>> imagine dragging your hands through that hair as he- wait no I have minors in my followers not gonna finish that

> Uh oh

>> Oh anakin you twit

>>> HE LOCKED HOMSELF IN WITH AN EXPLOSION JDGKJDJFKFKFKFKFF

> HES INSANE

> Are all Jedi so reckless? Just the good ones - love this by the way

> Oooohh shit for a STAR

> I mean like? I know anakin doesn’t die, but this shit is concerning

> Perfected the art of destroying ships and getting master almost killed? Sounds familiar

> I hate it when they just call them “padawan “ it just feels very impersonal like bleh

> Like I love aayla but god the Jedi preach some bullshit

>> God forbid someone raises a child and gets attached to it

>>> Like for fucks sake

>>>> Can you tell this is something I’m passionate about?

> Anyway, moving on

> Oh hi anakin! You’re alive!

> That bird lookin thing is tryna eat my boy 😤

> Oop - well that dudes dead

> Aawwwwwww aayla looks so sad, this makes me sad too

> Can we just appreciate this?

> Well these little critters are cute

> Ooooohhh I think I agree with this little dude

> You can skip the paragraph if you like, its just me going off about ‘peacekeeping’

> Alright gonna get mildly into it for a second, the clone wars really gets into it with episodes like this, displaying how the entire galaxy was starting to lose faith in the Jedi and their peacekeeping ways, in the movies we just got that people just started hating the Jedi because they became part of the war, but this really fleshes it out and shows just how slowly and gradually the loss of faith is. Because he’s right, the Jedi aren’t peacekeepers anymore, they bring as much destruction with them that the separatists do and have become symbols of war. They’re fighting for a good reason yes, but they can no longer claim that they are peacekeepers or that they played no role in this war.

> ANYWAY BACK TO REACTS

> AH MY TWO FAVOURITE WOMEN AND A PRETTY BACKGROUND AGAIN!! They really do be doing me a great service

Part 14: Defenders of Peace

> I’m really not into this episode, just saying it now

> Anakins just as bad as obi wan, like honestly just chill bro, fucking REST

>> MY BOYS DESERVE SOME GODDAMN REST AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL OK-

> Okay but is it taking a life if it’s a droid?

> Ugh this dudes ugly as fuck

> What did you think was gonna happen?? Of course your village was going to be ransacked

> I could go on forever about the pointlessness of this war like it just makes me mad palpatine you slimy git-

> My reacts this episode are really boring huh, I’m not into it 😭

*fully I didn’t write anything for about 10 minutes here because it’s just a little boring*

> HOLY SHIT NOW THATS A FUCKING WEAPON

> Yep sorry that’s it for this ep, I’m so bored 😂

>> Anyway, bonus episode because that one was short!

Part 15: Trespass

> YES OBIWAN WOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO

> AND IS THAT RIYO CHUCHI I SPY?????

> Hahahahahahahhahahaha it’s not tatooine, you got that right

> Oh god this dude already sounds like a dick (its the chancellor dude but not palpatine)

> Why’s he so defensive over it?

> Oh yikes, that does not look good

> Seppies don’t do that though - this is... odd

> Ah and the same thing has been done to the droids

> Off topic, but I think I’m going to make a clone wars drinking game that I can do while I do my reacts, so I’m going to make that this week, send me your ideas in the comments or dm me!

> Back to ep - pfffffffttt obi wans little taps and then anakin really goes WHACK

> Anyway I’m going to do this in the next couple days and then every Friday night I’ll watch a few eps and drink away

> Alright back to the episode once more

> Abominable snowman????

>> Definitely

> This is gonna go well isn’t it?

> “Well? Say something”

>> “Just shut up” *visible eye roll*

> What the fuck is their mouth

> Okay really obi wan, I think it’s pretty clear they don’t speak basic

> YEEEEEEAAAHHH THATS MY BOI ANAKIN

> Awwwwwwww that shits cute, fucking bear huugggg I want to be hugged like that

> I’m not fussed if it’s anakin, obi wan or kit fisto but please someone love me

>> Preferably kit fisto

> Anyway this dudes a dick (again, its the chancellor dude)

> They obviously have intelligence, and this dude has issues

>> I’m thinking he’s trying to compensate for something 👀

> Oof you really gonna tell a Jedi what to do?

> HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA the other people’s were there already

> Ugh he reminds me of my very racist grandparents oh boy

> You’ve been told like 4 times that it is not your jurisdiction anymore and you still can’t take it?

>> BRUH

> She’s so tiny and adorable and her voice is just 🥰🥰🥰🥰

>> Oh no

>>> I’m simping for another character

> Surely this guy dies

> HAHAHAHAHAH HE JUST GOT SPEARED SERVES YOU RIGHT MOTHERFUCKER

> What a dick, he shall not be missed

> She’s just, so pretty??? And smart????

>> FUCK MY BISEXUAL ASS CANT HANDLE THIS

> he’s seriously not dead yet?

> AAAHH RIYO YOU SMART GIRL YEEEEESSSS NEGOTIATE THAT PEEEEAAACCEEEE

> THATS MY GIRL SENATOR CHUCHI YEEEESSS

Welp that’s it for today folks, it was lovely, see y’all at some point this week where I say the drinking game rules and then next drunken Friday (even though these are gonna be released on saturdays but I write them on fridays?)

#the clone wars #tcw #the clone wars reacts #reacts series #star wars ahsoka #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #kit fisto #riyo chuchi #jar jar binks #basically a leah simp fest #fucking sigh #it took one (1) ep for me to simp

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