#And the owner was chatting to us too because it was this really cool friendly place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crescentsteel · 4 years

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When in Brazil - Sunshine

pairing: Hinata x f!reader genre: SMUT wc: 6.6k warnings: fingering, oral, body worship, praise kink, hinata with big dik

[a/n]

I said to myself, lets make this quick and short. lol yea sure

No beta. This is Spartaaaaa

My brain went bzzt bzzt after this.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist for this mini series

Beach || masterlist

“Are there any more deliveries for me, y/n?” The ginger asks while beaming at you like he hasn’t been delivering orders under the heat of the sun across Rio the whole afternoon.

“We’re all good, Shoyo.” You smile back. He’s such an earnest part-timer that your mood just lifts up whenever you see him. You rarely find anyone like him. Even though he’s just delivering orders for the diner, he’s so dedicated to it. He’s not like one of your previous delivery guys who grumbles before and after work as if they’re not getting paid. Shoyo is different. His eyes are full of life, full of purpose.

You like seeing him around because his sincerity and politeness makes you feel like you’re not just some dumb waitress in some small diner. Aside from pleasing to talk to, he’s also pleasing to look at. He’s like a cute boy-next-door kind of guy.

“I’ll be going ahead then!”

“Wait!” He turns around with an inquisitive look on his face. You want to keep him around longer for tonight. It’s been a rough day for you and you could use some sunshine. “Actually, I’d appreciate some help closing up. I’ll serve you something for dinner in return.” His face brightens up at your request. There it is. Mr. Sunshine, indeed.

“Sure, y/n! Just tell me what to do.”

He’s an efficient help to have. What you usually do in 40 minutes or so was done in just 20.

“Wow, I should ask you to help out more often,” you say jokingly. “No problem, y/n! I can help out after deliveries.”

You wave your hand frantically. “Oh no no no. I was just kidding, Shoyo. I can’t always give you dinner. The owner would notice when we do inventory.” You laugh apprehensively.

“You don’t have to! I don’t mind staying for a few minutes to help out after deliveries.”

You stare at him with an appreciative smile on your face. Bless his pure heart. Boys in Brazil could learn from him. “Alright. I’ll be in the kitchen to prepare your food real quick.”

He seats himself in one of the vacant lounges, grinning at you as you enter the kitchen. Since it was just him, you get it done in ten minutes or less. When you get out of the tiny room, he’s like a puppy salivating at the tray you’re holding.

“Here you go, sir.” You jokingly say.

He doesn’t respond as his eyes twinkle at the food you laid out in front of him. Poor Shoyo. He must have been starving or maybe he’s just glad for the free food.

You decide to clean up the kitchen and the counter while you wait for him to finish, but he ate so fast that he’s done before you are.

When he sees you still occupied, he takes it upon himself to get his used cutleries and wash it. He easily finds where to put them and he even wipes the table he sat on. If ever he asks you for another job, you’d instantly recommend him to the owner to replace one of the staff who’s basically a sloth.

You two almost finish at the same time.

“Thank you so much for the dinner, y/n.” He bows. You’re thrown off at first, but you remember that he’s from Japan.

“Thank you, Shoyo. Seriously. The help is nothing compared to the food.” You get out of the cashier and get your bag. You remove your apron and shove it there before leading him out of the diner as you lock it up.

“I’ll walk you home, y/n.”

You wave your hand dismissively. He’s done so much already. “No, it’s fine. You must be tired.”

He shakes his head in disagreement. “Not really! I wanna walk a bit too, but if you’re uncomfortable with it, I-”

“It’s okay!” You interrupt him. You do appreciate it if he’d accompany you home. You just thought he’s doing it to be kind and polite. “It’d be nice to chat with someone on the way home.” You tell him. He keeps his bicycle at his right while you’re at his left.

Even as the night is fully settled in, Shoyo’s energy is still soaring as he narrates why he’s here in Rio. No wonder his eyes are always gleaming vividly. He wants to accomplish something badly that he traveled halfway across the world in a foreign country. And as you get sucked in his story, you don’t notice you’re at your apartment already.

“I live right here. Do you wanna come in for tea or beer or whatever?” You invite him, wanting to hear more of his Volleyball journey. He seems glad from your invitation. Maybe he wanted someone to talk about it too.

“I’m okay with just water.”

You open your door and hold it out open for him. “You sure?”

He nods sprightly which makes you smile at the pure innocence he exudes. He eyes your whole place when he gets inside. “Wow. You live all alone, y/n?”

“Uh huh. I don’t like having roommates.”

“I think I’d get more homesick if I lived all alone,” he remarks.

From being awed, you begin to feel bad for him. It must be really tough to be so far away. “Well, you can always come here if you feel like talking or stuff,” you offer earnestly. You don’t mind him visiting every now and then. He’s such a positive energy amongst the dread of your everyday routine that’s constantly draining you. Also, You can’t imagine him being one of those guys who just hang out to get a slice of action.

Since then, he frequently came over.

On the days when he had deliveries for your diner, he’d help you close up. Instead of getting him dinner from the small diner, you two would get something on the way to your apartment or you’d fix him a quick meal when you get there.

He’s a comfortable company. Because he’s quite the talker, he never runs out of things to say. He not only talks about his life in Japan, but also here in Rio. You practically know all his friends here just from his stories.

“Didn’t they say anything when you wanted to leave?” You prod when he opened up missing his family. “They did, but they still pushed me to do it. They know what’s it for, and they know I’ll be back.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

A soft blush surfaces on his cheeks as he chuckles nervously. “I don’t have one.”

“Oh? Who’s the cute girl in your wallpaper then?” You’ve seen it several times when he looks at the time with his phone.

“She’s our Volleyball manager and a really good friend,” he explains as he gets his phone to show you something. “She’s been with the team since I was a first year.” He shows you a photo of him, a black-haired guy who’s probably Kageyama, and the cute blonde girl.

Your attention all goes to him, his innocent beam at the camera while his arms are sprawled in the air. “Oh my God,” you exclaim while staring at the photo.

“You were so skinny!”

You look back and forth from the screen of his phone to him, comparing how he looked like then and how he looks like now. You pull your chair closer to him so you can scrutinize him more. He looked so young and pure back then. Literally, just a kid.

“Wow.”

You gape at him, marveling at how his features have changed so much. Even if he still has that baby face, his face has definitely gained structure. And the scrawny boy in the photo? You can’t find that anymore with the Shoyo in front of you right now. He even has a nice tan going on that suits him so well.

Without thinking, your hands fly to his shoulders to grasp the muscle he’s built after high school, squeezing them firmly before trailing down to his well-defined chest. Damn, he really put some nice work to achieve this. You drag your hands down to see how his abs are and holy crap, he’s fucking lean.

Your gaze drops further just below where your hands are and see a faint outline of what he’s hiding beneath his shorts.

“Ah!”

You immediately remove your hands off of him and raise your palms in mid air. “I’m so sorry! That was so perv- I mean rude of me to do that all of a sudden.” You apologize in a panicked tone, hoping that he didn’t think you were being handsy, even if you really were.

“I was just amazed because you looked so different from the photo and uh..” you laugh to make up for the missing excuses you were supposed to say.

He laughs with you, a timid smile gracing his face.

“It’s okay, y/n. You can continue touching me if you want.”

You squirm as you put your hands to your lap, clutching your shorts from the sudden thick air that engulfs the room. He sounded harmless. Even his face is his usual good-natured facade. But those words meant something else to you, an invitation to touch him more.

You let out a tense tither before turning to him. “No no! Haha. I’m fine. It was just on impulse.”

In an attempt to hide the awkwardness, you gather his used dishes and cutleries. “Let me get these washed up.” You stand up and hurriedly get to the sink.

What was that weird sexual tension? That over there in your dining table is just your nice delivery boy, Shoyo. You’re nothing but co-workers who are just friendly to each other.

You let the cold water run on your fingers and wrists while you wash the dishes. You need to get back to him composed and cooled off. You want your relationship as it is now. You don’t want to feel awkward and bothered.

So what if you just realized that he’s hot and nice and completely alone with you?

“Do you need help with anything, y/n?

You yelp at the sound of his voice so close behind you. You can feel his warm breath fanning your neck and his body hovering at your back. He’s barely pressing against your back but you can already feel the ends of your hairs prickling your skin.

“Wah! Why are you having goosebumps, y/n? Are you cold??”

“Yeah. It is a bit windy tonight.” You lie with a tense chuckle as you hasten your task so you could escape the situation. To worsen things for you, he places both hands on your bare shoulders and caresses them up and down to create heat.

“I hope this is warm enough,” he says concernedly.

It’s more than just warm. He’s supposed to create friction by rubbing your shoulders, but he’s skimming so gently on your skin that it’s fueling a different kind of heat stemming from your core from the supposed friendly gesture he’s doing to you. You fight off the urge to clench your thighs together for he might notice it since he’s just a hair away behind you.

You saw him as a nice guy but his hands are making you feel otherwise. You had to bite your lower lip to suppress a whimper that was at the tip of your tongue. You can pass it off as a groan of relief, but with your current state, it might sound sexual. Since when were you this sensitive?

“Do you want me to prepare your green tea?” he kindly offers.

“Yes, please,” you answer weakly.

He takes his hands off you and gets you your green tea as he suggested to. You breathe a sigh of relief when he leaves. You feel like you’re about to break from how heavy his sexual pull is on you. Is he even aware?

You dry your hands and saunter back to your dining table to take a seat and give your legs a break. Shoyo places the cup of tea in front of you and sits beside you.

“Why do you always drink that, y/n? It doesn’t taste good.”

“It’s to help me lose weight.” You draw the cup to your lips and take a sip.

“Ehh? But you already look hot as you are.”

You almost choked on your tea from what he just said. You weren’t expecting such an adjective from him. With trembling fingers, you return the cup to the table. “You okay, y/n?” He asks worriedly.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He can’t help but notice that you’ve been on the edge since you felt him up. He believes that you did it with no malicious intent, so he really didn’t mind. He knows that all you think of him is a good help to the diner. That’s why you comfortably invited him to your home, but he can see right now that he’s made you uncomfortable for some reason.

Maybe you’re really embarrassed with what just happened even if he did say it was fine. He really was okay with you touching him, even if it was something more than just touching. But it’s not like you see him like that.

He likes you a lot, so he should just go so he doesn’t make you any more uneasy. “It’s getting late, so I’ll go now, y/n.”

When he stands up, you immediately follow. “Oh? Already?” You ask with a hint of disappointment in your voice, which makes him a bit confused. Did you not want him to?

“Do you want me to stay for a bit longer?”

You look at him hesitantly before shaking your head. He smiles amicably at you for the usual hospitality you’ve given him. “Thanks for the dinner, y/n.” He looks at the time and heads for the door.

“Shoyo!”

He shifts his body to your direction while he waits for what you’re going to say “I- uhhh. Sorry about a while ago.”

He strides back to where you are and grabs your hand, slowly leading it to his chest with a faint grin playing on the corners of his lips. “It really is okay, y/n.” When your palm lands on his pecs, you just let it stay in one spot as you look at him differently than usual. You regard him with doe eyes gleaming with baffled curiosity.

With his grip still on your wrist, he does the work for you and guides your hand down to where you touched him just a while ago. Your line of sight follows your hand while his is completely focused on you, anticipating your reaction if you’re satisfied with just this.

He lets go of your wrist, allowing you to do as you please. You raise your gaze to meet his, your eyes asking him for permission.

“I really don’t mind, y/n.”

Your other hand goes to his bicep, firmly grasping it before you take one step closer to him. Both

your hands travel to his midsection, the feel of your delicate caress making his thoughts not as friendly as it used to be. Especially with how impressed you look with your hands all over him.

“Can I touch you too?” He blurts out without thinking.

He instantly regrets it when he sees the surprised look on your face as you pull your hands away.

“No! I didn’t mean t-“

You silence him instantly by putting a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t say anything,” you mutter as you usher his one hand to your waist.

You remove your hand from his mouth and use it to lead his other hand on your neck. You don’t know what you’re doing. You keep your eyes on his neck while he languidly roams his left hand on the small of your back until his arm is wrapped around you. He doesn’t move his right hand away from your neck. He only strokes it tenderly with his thumb.

“Y/n.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you raise your gaze to him. “Can we do more than just touching?”

Instead of answering him, you yield to the heavy sensual pull that you’ve been trying to ignore earlier. You slowly reach for his lips, wanting to gradually settle yourself in the present situation.

But when your lips touched his, he didn’t share the same idea you had as he wastes no time exploring your mouth with his. All the hesitation he had is gone with his hand dropping down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze which draws you even closer to him, letting you feel his erection against your core.

He doesn’t take his mouth off of yours as he leads you to the dining table, taking both of your ass cheeks in his hands and carrying your weight as he guides you to sit at the edge of the table.

When you’re comfortably seated, he tugs the flank of your shirt and hurriedly takes it off you. You want to look at him to see what he looks like when he’s not being the nice Shoyo you used to see him as. But he gets back to your mouth in just a second, sticking his tongue out to let it wander inside your warm cavern.

His hands immediately find the clasp of your bra and unhooks it with ease. That’s when he pulled away. His eyes are glued to your body as he removes the undergarment slowly, as if he’s unwrapping his gift with the slow reveal of your breasts.

His eyes glimmer with delight when he completely slides the clothing off your arms. It kinda makes you conscious with the way he’s staring at you, like his eyes are burning through your skin. You use one arm to cover your boobs, but he instantly sees through your plan.

As soon as you lift your arm, soft panic sets off in his eyes. He immediately grips your wrist and slams your hand against the table.

“Don’t!”

“But you were staring too much.”

His gaze drops down again to your unclad breasts with reverence. “Cause you’re pretty.” He leans down on you again, his plush lips just within an easy reach from yours. “So pretty that I can’t stop staring.”

You expect him to kiss you again, but his mouth latches on your jaw instead, nipping the sensitive skin beneath it. A soft sigh comes out of your already parted lips while his palms trace the length of both your arms up to your shoulders. He kisses his way down to your collar bones, savoring any skin that his lips graze upon until he reaches one soft mound.

His hands follow the trails of his lips, one finding its way on the curve of your hip while the other stops on your breast where his mouth isn’t latched onto.

He delivers sloppy kisses, sucking on your perk nipple and swirling his tongue on it like it was a treat. The other bud isn’t left out as he plays with it, tweaking it between his thumb and index finger.

Your breathing starts to become shallow from the surge of desire spreading throughout your body.

He cups both sides of your boobs and pushes them together before he continues on, letting his tongue toy with your nipples almost simultaneously. He’s so into it that his teeth accidentally scrape one bud.

“Ah!”

He immediately stops and looks at you apologetically, misunderstanding the moan that came from you.

“Sorry...”

“No. It felt good,” you feebly tell him.

His eyes brighten up and gets back to what he’s doing. He takes the hard bud in between his teeth, tugging it lightly as he looks up to you, his orbs eager for your approval. It spurs you on even more. You give him one nod as you feel your cunt throbbing from how your arousal is heightening by the minute.

“Shoyo,” you call him weakly which he didn’t seem to hear.

He lets go of your breasts and licks his way down right on top of your shorts, leaving a trail of saliva on your skin. He unbuttons your shorts, the sound of your zipper being rolled down letting you know what he’s planning.

“Shoyo.” You call out louder this time, causing his hand to rest on your groin. “Let’s go to my room already.” You expect him to be glad, but he frowns. “But I want to taste you already. Please, y/n? I want to eat you out here.”

Your legs quiver from how much he wants you, his eagerness affecting you as you yourself get impatient and wonder how his tongue would feel on your pussy.

“Do it.” He smiles at your approval as you lift your ass off the table to help him get your shorts off. You aren’t surprised that he tugs your underwear together with it as he peels it off you. You’re starting to get an idea how he is at bed - impatient, excitable, and eager to please.

A subtly smirk tugs up your lips when you realize you’re in for a fun night.

He doesn’t notice it though. He takes a step back to relish the vision that you are. His eyes are completely focused on your bare body with keen hunger as he traces every curve in sight. You indulge him a bit by spreading your legs apart for him to see.

“Wow.”

His eyes don’t leave your cunt while he drags the chair he’s previously sitting on. He spreads your legs even further as he sits down. He places his thumbs on your inner thighs, gently caressing them before he stripes one thumb on your slit.

“You’re so wet, y/n,” he says right before dipping down and tracing his tongue where his thumb just did earlier. He continues doing so, licking up and down the length of your opening as you lean your head back to enjoy what he’s giving you. He eagerly slurps on your juices, lapping on your slit with his hot tongue.

He uses his thumbs to spread your folds that surround your clit, exposing the swollen bud for him to taste. When he gives it a delicate, languid lick, your one hand frantically grips his hair. He takes it up a notch and inserts his middle finger inside .

“Haaa,” you moan out loud which urges him on even more. He pumps his finger inside you, gradually picking up the pace when you start squirming within his hold.

“Another,” you tell him breathlessly.

“Another what?” He asks cluelessly while his mouth continues ravaging your clit. “Add another finger,” you answer to which he complies immediately. He stretches you even more with the addition of one thick, calloused finger inside.

He looks up at you, parting his mouth away from your pussy to show you his two digits that are half inside you. “Like this?”

You nod. “Yeah. Like,” He suddenly shoves the two fingers knuckles deep into you. “thathnnnnggg.” You clutch his hair tighter while your mouth gapes at the instant fullness you feel down in your center. His eyes don't leave your face anymore as he latches his mouth back on your hardened clit.

You’re whining while grinding on his face, getting wetter even as he relentlessly drinks your lewd essence. He loves the look on your face, blissed out and completely lost in the moment. He loves how you keep trying to close your legs together even with his arm not allowing you to do so. He loves the desire glimmering clearly in your eyes as you meet his gaze while he feasts on your pussy.

He already got aroused the first time you touched him. Seeing you unravel before him gets his cock throbbing painfully within his shorts. He’s so tempted to remove his arm and let you crush him between your thighs so he can palm his cock.

He doesn’t even know if you’d let him go any further than this. What if after you cum you change your mind and ask him to go home? There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that. He’ll just replay the scene before him as he jacks off in his own room.

His one hand goes inside his shorts and takes out his cock, causing your thigh to waver without his support. He grasps the base of his dick, squeezing it firmly, easily distracting himself with his own pleasure as he moans in your cunt.

You immediately notice. You see him firmly gripping his member, pumping it steadily up and down with eyes closed as he slows down his ministrations with you. You cup his face, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you again. “Stop fucking yourself. I’ll do it with my mouth after you make me cum.”

He stops like you asked him to. “Really?” His eyes pleading with lust to uphold your erotic promise. “Yeah. So make cum already,” you brazenly order him. He tucks his cock back in his shorts right away, using his arm once again to spread you wide. His mouth, lips, and fingers pick up the pace, thrusting swiftly in and out of your while flicking and sucking at your clit.

“Ooohhh fuck.” You claw on your wooden table from the rapid build up of pleasure. You can feel the heat in your groin, spreading quickly through your body. “Yes, yesss. Don’t stop,” you mindlessly whine. Everything he’s doing is pushing you further to your release - the friction and fullness provided by his fingers and the wild strokes of his tongue on your clit. He suddenly curves his fingers, hitting just the right spot that blurred your vision from how good it feels.

“Cumming... am cumming, Shoyo!!” You trash helplessly on his face as the pleasure floods your senses, but he doesn’t stop. He only slows down, matching your post-orgasm state as you come down from your high.

You tug his hair up while panting to catch your breath. “Come here.” He stands up and you reach for the back of his head to cover his mouth with yours, tasting your own fluids in his lips. “Help me get down,” you whisper to him.

He effortlessly grabs the back of your thighs to get you to stand again. Once your feet reach the floor, you release his lips and drag him to your room.

Once inside, you lock lips with him again as you scurry towards your bed. You get him to lie down as you straddle him, your wetness rubbing on the bulge of his shorts. You hurriedly remove his clothes, itching to see the delicious muscles you touched only with his shirt on. He helps you as he tugs down his shorts and underwear, his last piece of clothing thrown somewhere on the floor.

You bite your lower lip as your eyes roam on his body. He should thank beach volleyball for the tan and the jaw-dropping build. Your gaze falls on his naked bulge that you saw a glimpse of earlier. Damn. You weren’t seeing things earlier. He really is packing down there.

“Is something wrong?” He asks with a worried look, returning your gaze back at him. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s,” Your eyes get distracted with how he gulps, your gaze lingering down again on his gorgeous chest. “..fine.”

You return the favor, starting on his neck. You plant your arms on his shoulder as you move your hips up, resting your cunt on his toned abs. You deliver soft kisses on the delicate skin of his neck, letting your tongue sneak a few licks as you go down on him until his cock is within the reach of your mouth.

You position yourself in between his legs as you grip his shaft. His hips lift up from the contact. You watch his reactions as you start to drag your palm around his member up and down. He’s already heaving with lips parted as he takes the pleasure you’re giving him with eyes closed. You find it cute - how he’s this sensitive when you’re barely done anything yet.

You gather your spit and let it drool at his cock, the translucent liquid glazing the tip down to the base. You trace his length with your index finger, from the tiny slit of his tip down to his balls. You go back up to the head of his cock, but you do it with your tongue instead of your finger.

You peek at him again. He’s semi sitting up with his elbows on the cushion as he glues his eyes on your tongue on his dick. You grip him again, tighter this time before pressing one digit firmly on his tip. He throws his head back from the pressure and you use that chance to take his thick girth in your mouth

His thighs tremble as he lets out a euphoric moan while you sink lower and lower on his dick. “Your mouth -aahhh so gooood.”

He really likes you and thinks you’re fun to talk to, but sometimes he’d catch himself fantasizing about you when he gets home and ends up masturbating at the thought of you sucking him off. But his right hand doesn’t even compare to the actual warmth of your lips wrapped around his dick at present.

He keeps his eyes on you, which is a bad idea for him since it’s only quickening the pleasure that was boiling at the pit of his stomach. But he can’t help but stare at you. You look so good, so pretty, with your ass up as you suck him even faster.

He can feel his cum threatening to explode already. He feels so lame, but your mouth just feels so magnificent that he can’t hold it in any further. “Stop, y/n. Please~ aah ahhh gonna cum already.” He doesn’t want you to be disappointed with him, but it’s as if you didn’t hear him. You even go deeper while quickening your pace.

He gives in to it, gripping your hair as the peak of his pleasure takes over. He expects you to pull away, but you continue sucking, letting him shoot his load at the back of your throat.

You take all of it, swallowing every drop he let out in your mouth. You did hear him say stop, but the lascivious delight on his face contradicted his words. You had to let him finish even if that meant you won’t get to feel how his cock feels inside your already sopping pussy.

You sit up as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. As for Shoyo, he covers his eyes with his forearm while he pants. You start to get up and head for your drawers when you feel him grab your wrist before you can even leave the bed

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“To get dressed.”

“But we’re not done yet?”

You appreciate the thought. He really is such a generous guy, but.. “It’s fine, Shoyo. You don’t have to force it. You’re already soft??” Your statement becomes a question when you see his arousal still erect.

You don’t know whether to be amused or amazed at that, so you end up staring dumbfounded at him who’s still lying on his back.

He grins at you as he sits up straight and goes for your lips. It wasn’t soft and gentle like you expect from someone who just came. He seems even hungrier, more eager for you.

He guides your hand to his shaft, confirming that he’s hard and ready to continue with what you have in mind. You smile into the kiss, curious and excited as to how he feels inside your pussy. Horny as you are, you throw yourself at him which causes him to lie back down again with you on top of him.

As your tongues clash against one another, you rub your moist slit against his erection, teasing both yourself and him while doing so. He’s groaning in your mouth while he keeps one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly gripping your waist. “Y/n, can I put in already?” He asks with hazy eyes even though his hand on your waist goes down to his cock and aligns it on your folds.

“Mmm, wait.” You lift yourself off of him and reach for your purse that was hanging on one of the metal bed frames. You quickly get a condom and throw your purse somewhere. You tear the packet and remove his hand from his shaft to unroll the rubber on it while he watches. You take over his previous attempt and position the tip on your entrance. You place a palm on his stomach to anchor yourself as you lower yourself on him.

He stares at you mesmerized while you wince from how his cock is spreading you open. You ball your fist that was still on his abdomen, trying to get used to the discomfort even if he’s still not fully inside you. He recovers first and glances back on how you’re doing.

“Shoyo, you’re-ughhh-big,” you tell him with a pained expression. “I- I am?” He asks with pink streak surfacing on his cheeks, flattered from what you said. You nod while sinking lower until you finally cover the last inch, taking him entirely inside you.

He whips his head back on to the pillow with his cock completely sheathed inside the tight warmth of your pussy. He thought your mouth was already marvelous, but the way your walls deliciously envelop his cock is way beyond his wet dreams.

Your hand joins the other, supporting yourself as you slowly lift your hips up and descend back down with the same agonizing tempo. While you adjust to his size, he keeps his eyes on his cock disappearing each bob of your hip.

From your pussy, he rakes his eyes up to your naked body glimmering with sweat. You look so beautiful with your eyes shut, gaping lips, and tits bouncing altogether as you speed up. “You look so fucking pretty, y/n.” Your eyes flutter open from the unexpected vulgarity he uttered. It wasn’t like him, but it wasn’t forced either. He regards you with lust swimming in his orbs, the courteous friendship you two have totally erased as of this moment.

You still for a second before you remove your hands off him and place them on his thighs as you lean back. You spread your thighs and plant the soles of your feet on your bed. You see his eyes widen because of the view. Rather bouncing up and down, you gyrate on his cock. It’s supposed to be a show for him, but with his size, you feel his cock gloriously scrape your insides with the circular movement of your hips.

“Shit!” You curse before you close your eyes again as you start grinding on him. You don’t start slow this time. You impatiently roll your hips against his, driving his cock deep inside you each plunge. You didn’t think it would get any better than this until you feel his thumb on your neglected cit.

“Oh ffffuuuck.” You can’t even open your eyes anymore while his two fingers replace his thumb and rub the sensitive bud frantically. You could feel the pleasure escalating faster and faster with every salacious thrust of your hip and his every flick of your clit..

“Are you gonna cum, y/n?” You hear him ask.

“Yesss. Am gonna cuuuuuummmm.” You clutched his legs tighter when your orgasm hits, your vision blurry when you open your eyes as you ride it out. He pulls your panting self to his chest and tenderly caresses your back.

He sweeps your hair behind your ear and whispers. “Did that feel nice?”

You nod weakly. “Did you cum?” You ask in return. You were so occupied in your own pleasure that you lost awareness of his. He chuckles lowly. “No.”

“Oh..” You lift yourself up a bit to meet his gaze and apologize.

“Why are you saying sorry? We aren’t done yet.”

What he said as a question earlier became a statement. Something changed in his eyes, a spark of determination that isn’t there earlier.

“Let’s just continue next time, Shoyo. I’m kind of tired,” you explain.

“There’s a next time?!” His eyes shine with enthusiasm which makes you laugh softly.

“Sure. Why not?” You lift your hips up but his hands quickly go down your ass and crash you back down, shoving his dick back in you hard and deep.

“Gaah!”

“Thanks, y/n. But don’t worry about being tired. I’ll move instead,” he hums on your ear as he spreads your ass cheeks and pummels his cock wildly into your sensitive pussy.

You moan on his neck at the savage pace he starts with. “Shoyo, pleaseee. Sloweer mmmmm.”

“But why?” He whines. You can’t answer with how ferociously he’s rutting against you, his dick consistent with its swift thrusts. “Shit, your pussy feels amazing. So good, fuck.” His crude words of praise fan your pleasure that was rapidly filling your senses again.

He rams your hips down to meet one sharp thrust. You gasp from how deep his cock went inside you. “Aaah!”

“Do I make you feel good, y/n?”

You nod weakly as you grind slowly on his cock, desperate to chase your pleasure but too tired from your earlier stunt.

“Please, move,” you whisper with exhaustion.

“Tell me first. I want to hear it,” he demands.

“Too good, Shoyo. Your cock feels too good. So please, fuck me again already,” you shamelessly beg as his cock throbs inside you.

Instead of granting your plea, he takes his cock out and pulls you to lie underneath him. He parts your legs apart for him and jams his dick right back inside. That’s when he indulges you, thrusting his size in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.

He leans down on you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pins both your hands on the bed. “Do you like this, y/n?”

“I love it. Please please pleaaaaseee. Don’t stop mmmmmm,” you babble messily as your impending orgasm overwhelms you.

He clumsily kisses you, his teeth grazing your lips as slips his tongue in before covering his mouth with yours. He’s groaning relentlessly on your mouth while drilling his dick in your cunt. “You gonna cum?”

“Yeaass haaa.” Your moans become louder and louder each thrust. “Gonna cum like this? With-ugh-my cock inside you?”

His obscene words make you writhe beneath him. You arch your back from the intense pleasure. He dips down on one nipple and fervidly sucks it. “Gonna c-aahhhhhhh.” You thrash violently beneath him as your hands clench his to ground yourself from the explosive orgasm that he caused.

“Fuck, yes. Cum on my cock, uhhh. Like that. Shit.”

His thrusts become erratic as he goes after his own orgasm while he milks yours. You hazily open your eyes and watch him chase his high with eyes shut and parted lips, animalistic pleasure taking over his features. He delivers one swift thrust and stays completely still, his dick twitching inside you as he cums.

You both pant heavily with him on top of you.

—

You open the door for him and bid him goodnight. Your legs feel like crap but you don’t want to just drive him away on his own.

“Thanks for tonight, Shoyo.”

You’re not sure what you’re thanking him for, the company or the sex. Maybe both.

“Um, y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Will there really be a next time?” He asks apprehensively, totally different from his demeanor from your last moments in bed. It’s kinda amusing. You didn’t think he had that in him.

“You’ll still help me close up the diner, right?” You ask meaningfully.

He beams at you. “Of course.”

Beach || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslavee @tsumurai @celestialarchiveshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @crescenttooru @yashuaaa @liberhoe

#hinata x reader #hinata smut #hinata shoyo smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #hinata shoyo x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 2

The next morning, after finding somewhere to grab some breakfast, Escorpión Morado not being open until later, you had explored some more of the city. You managed to cross off a few other places on Wanda's list.

There was a really pretty park in the middle of a residential area that you took a walk through. It looked so different from the rest of the city, it was nice.

There was something so homey in this city. Bakeries where the smell of warm pastry dragged through the doors, families walking and laughing in the streets. When you returned to the square, there were stalls set up, and many of the shops around were open. You decided to browse and see, maybe you could find a souvenir.

There were all kinds of trinkets and gadgets on the stalls. You spent most of the time just admiring them.

One stall, rather close to Escorpión Morado, had lots of small trinkets on necklaces. You stood over it and admired them, one in particular catching your eye. You pick it up and admire it.

It's a coin. An old coin. You turn it over in your hand, running your thumb across it.

"It's an old Sokovian coin."

You turn at the sound of the voice, smiling when you saw it was Helmut. He was smiling handsomely at you, you hoped it wasn't showing on your face that you were thinking that.

"It's quite pretty," you say, looking back at the coin.

Helmut hands the stall owner some money, you want to ask what's he's doing, but it's quite obvious as to what he was doing. He turns to you and takes the necklaces from your hand.

"Turn around."

You do as he says. Helmut puts the necklace on for you. You look down at the coin hanging over your chest.

"There you go."

"You didn't have to do that," you say, looking back up at him. He shrugs and looks at you, seemingly quite smug that he had spent money on a stranger.

"You said it was pretty."

"It is, but that wasn't code for 'buy it for me.'"

He chuckles.

"Would you like some coffee?" He asks, completely ignoring your statement.

"Uh, sure."

He gestures to the open doors of his restaurant. You thank the stall owner and walk with Zemo into Escorpión Morado. He leads you over to a table and then leaves your side to go behind the bar.

You get comfortable and watch as he makes some coffee for you both. It's quiet right now, so you assumed he didn't mind doing this.

Zemo returns. He places a cup in front of you and sits down opposite you. He smiles and looks at you intently. You narrow your gaze at him, but understand he's waiting for you to try the coffee. You pick up the cup, blown it lightly, it was freshly made after all, and take a sip.

You smile at him.

"Well?" He asks, grinning.

"That's good."

"Just good?"

"Amazing. The food, the coffee, the atmosphere, everything here is so good," you chuckle.

Zemo looks pleased with your answer.

"I'm glad to hear that. I do my best to impress," he winks at you. You glance down, feeling rather shy, and sip your coffee again.

You have no idea why he made you feel like a teenager with a crush. This man you hardly knew and have only known two days has all the power to make you feel shy.

Wanda was only teasing you yesterday, right? Of course she was.

Helmut placed his arms on the edge of the table and leaned forward a little bit. You were fighting to not look at his arms which were on view again, trying not let how strong they looked get to you.

"How is my country treating you?" He asks, sounding genuinely curious. Though you supposed he was used to speaking like that. He seems like someone who has ease getting along with others. He must meet so many different people every day.

"Sokovia is wonderful. I'll be sad to leave it when I go."

"When do you leave?"

"I'm only booked in for two more nights, then I'll be on my way to see more of Europe."

"What a shame that your stay is so short," he says, rather solemnly.

"My intentions are to travel as much as Europe as I can. Though I will be returning home soon. I'm here for my friend."

"Ah yes, you did say as much."

You drink what's left of your coffee, missing it already. Everything this man makes leaves you wanting more.

"Would you like another?"

You look at your cup.

"Maybe just one more," you say shyly, biting your lip. It was as if he was able read your mind. He chuckled and took your cup, going to make you both another cup.

Since it was so quiet in here right now, you hoped me wouldn't mind you speaking up to chat with him. Normally you would be so anxious to do that.

"I hope I'm not being too much trouble for you. It's quiet now, but I'd hate to be keeping you from your work."

He smiled over at you.

"No trouble. I am always happy to have at least one person in here. Though with the market in town, I am sure to be busy later."

"I'll be sure to be out of your hair by then," you say, smiling.

"No need to rush off," he comes back, two freshly made coffees in his hand. He puts one down in front of you, just like before, and then sits down across from you again.

"I could spend all day in here," you tell him, unable to admit that to him while looking him in the eye.

"You are welcome to," he sips his coffee.

You watch him for just a moment.

"I'll only get in your way."

"Nonsense, you?"

"Yes, of course I will. Sitting here, taking up a table. You expect to be busy, don't you?"

"I do, but you can sit up at the bar."

"You sound like you want me to stay," you laugh softly.

"Is that so bad?" He asks, eyebrow raised and grin on his face.

"Isn't it weird? We met yesterday. Are you like this with everyone you meet?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"I told you yesterday, only with the interesting ones." He finishes his coffee and sits back in the chair, hands resting on his knees as he looks at you.

"Flatter me all you like, it's not working," you say, drinking the last of your coffee and standing up.

"You'll be back."

"We shall see," you grab your things, leave some money on the table, and make your leave.

He watches you go.

Sam comes out from around the back, adjusting his sleeves. He sees Zemo staring at the open door, two empty cups on the table in front of him.

"Missing them already?"

Zemo turns his head and looks at Sam, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he rises from the chair, tucks it back under the table, and grabs the two cups.

"Mind your own business Sam, we have things to do today."

Sam would resist mentioning that despite that statement being true, Helmut had literally just sat down with you chat and drink coffee.

Zemo took the cups into the back to clean.

You walked across the square and decided to head back to your hotel room for a bit.

Wanting to prove the handsome chef wrong, you didn't go back to the restaurant the next day, and almost didn't go the day after, but changed your mind. Your flight was in a few hours, you would be leaving Sokovia behind.

You had taken many photos for Wanda. She would be pleased with seeing her country again.

Now it was your final day and the least you could do was say bye to him. He had been so friendly to you.

You enter the restaurant. It's busier today. The staff are working hard to see to everyone. You don't see Helmut out front, he must be in the back.

This wasn't really a huge deal anyway. You grab a a piece of paper from a notebook you keep on you, and scribble out a note. Nothing too long, just a little thank you. A man comes over, asking if he can get you something.

You smile at him. He's tall, dark hair, blue eyes. Does everyone who works here look this good?

"I'm good actually, could you give this to the owner for me?" You hand over the folded note, Helmut's name written neatly on it. The man takes it from you and nods, putting it in his pocket for now. You thank him and leave.

You felt a little sad you didn't to see him, but he was busy. It wouldn't matter anyway. He would soon forget you, and you would probably forget about him in time.

Your flight leaves on time and you're on your way to complete the last of your trip.

Zemo is sweating when he exits the kitchen, wiping at his brow with a towel. He steps out back for a bit of fresh air. The cool breeze is a welcome feeling as he takes a deep breath. It has been non stop today.

You hadn't come in the last couple of days. He had noticed. Helmut had been keeping an eye on who was coming and going just in case you came back. He wanted to talk to you some more. He hadn't realised just how many days it had been.

Bucky pushed open the door and looked around, upon seeing Zemo standing there, he approached him, letter in hand.

"This was left for you."

Helmut looks up and narrows his gaze on the letter. He takes it from Bucky and opens it, looking at the rather rushed handwriting. He could tell this was written last minute.

Dear handsome restaurant owner,

How sad I am that I missed you, but you were working away so hard in your kitchen. I must say it was thrilling to see your restaurant so full of people.

I return home today. I was hoping to see you once more before my flights, but alas, it was not meant to be.

Thank you for making me feel so welcome in your country and for sharing your wonderful food. I will tell all my friends about it.

I don't know if or when I'll be back, but I hope that if i find myself in Sokovia again, I'll be finding myself at your restaurant.

See you, maybe.

Y/N

He smiled at your letter. You had been here and he missed you because he was busy cooking. He almost hated how that worked out. He folds your letter and tucks into his pocket. Bucky doesn't ask about it as he goes back inside.

Helmut chuckles to himself.

He can only hope fate brings you back his way. His new favourite customer.

Wanda was at the airport to pick you up after your European trip came to an end. She hugged you tightly as you got closer to where she was waiting. She was smiling. Wanda had missed you.

"You have to tell me all about it!" She insisted.

"Where do I even begin?" You chuckle, looping your arm with hers as you walked to the car.

"Sokovia, obviously." Wanda takes your bag and puts it into the car. You climb in and wait for her to start driving before speaking.

"I went to several countries before I got there," you chuckle.

"But Sokovia is the most important. I want to hear about that man you met," she smiles, eyeing you from the drivers seat.

"What about him?"

"Exactly, tell me everything. I want to know about your little romance."

"There wasn't a romance."

"Well, whatever it was, I want to know."

"I made a friend. That's all. I told you about him. Helmut Zemo, he owns his fathers restaurant now."

"Ah yes, you didn't answer my question properly. Was he cute?"

"Yes. Cute, handsome, charming. This man has it all."

"And he can cook," she grinned. "Husband material."

"Shut up, Wanda." You shake your head at her, smiling softly.

Your hand raises to the necklace you were wearing, remembering him fondly. You were missing him.

You were missing a perfect stranger.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @zemo-is-my-muse @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #marvel #AU #chef zemo au

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

Meet you under the sun

Author: @lightlessons For: @danthegeek Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami/L Lawliet, Misa Amane, Kiyomi Takada. Rating/Warnings: M. Mature language, Swear words, Alcohol consumption. Prompt: AU Light is a popular Collage Student and invited to a beach party. He is having a lot of fun, is flirty and arrogant as we know him. He is dancing with Misa, who is not his girlfriend but has a crush on him. Then, L joins the party, somebody brought him along. He is chilling awkwardly by the buffet when Light takes notice of him and joins him at the buffet. He has seen him before a couple times on the campus, but never talked to him. What happens next is up to you…

Author’s notes: I bent the specifics a bit in that I had Light talk to L just a bit after seeing him instead of immediately, because i felt it fit the pacing I had better. Hope it’s still okay though :-)

—————————–

“Don’t tell me you’re a Beach Volleyball junior champion too,” Takada joked after Light obliterated (yet again) a team of what appeared to be sociology majors, or something equally pointless, she had that small, half-hearted smile that was so characteristic of hers but with the slight frown of someone who isn’t used to being impressed.

Light laughed humbly.

“I’m not. Maybe my experience with tennis helps somewhat? But I’ve really never played it before.”

His classmate sighed, and Light thought that being constantly made aware of his numerous skills had to be tiring for her. “You must be just naturally talented then,” she supposed as she fixed her hair behind her ear in a strange bashful gesture that must mean she was finally surrendering over to Light’s natural charm, as one would expect.

“Or those two are just awful,” Light smirked conspiratorially.

The young bourgeois laughed, which was what Light was hoping to achieve. Takada always enjoyed laughing at other people’s expense.

Light wasn’t much of a fan of the beach. There was too much sand getting into bad places and too many people acting as if the transition from monkey to hominid had never been made. Too much noise and too much sun and too many girls asking him to slather them with sun blocker, as if he’d pop a boner over touching their skinny naked backs. But, if there was something he’d learned from a very young age was the importance of having good public relations, and so when Kiyomi Takada had invited him to an exclusive beach party, he knew he wouldn’t say no to the daughter of the Sankei Newspaper’s owner. He’d gone into To-Doh not just looking for a quality education after all but in the hope of forming good connections too.

And this party, filled with Tokyo’s most important youth, was a perfect opportunity to start rubbing shoulders. Light was young and attractive and athletic, perfectly composed to be like a bug zapper for these kinds of things.

Plus, the lively music and the three margaritas he’d already had were kinda getting to him.

“LIIIIIIIIGHT!!!” A familiar voice suddenly screeched from somewhere behind him.

Oh dear God.

Five feet of blond supermodel darted towards him through the small crowd of spectators that had formed for the match. Misa Amane, bimbo extraordinaire, had finally shown up to the party in all her unbridled glory.

“Oh, that was so cool! You’re always so cool, Light,” she proclaimed with shiny eyes while all the other men around and some of the women ogled her in her small two-piece red bikini with a blackthorns and vines pattern, as characteristic of the gothic style she favored.

Now, Light didn’t dislike Misa. She was cute in a very whiny-cat kind of way. Sort of endearing at first but jarring as the volume increased and the minutes went on. The first time they met she’d claimed she felt a cosmological affinity towards him or some such bullshit and then proceeded to interrogate him for his zodiac, moon, and rising sign, whatever the hell that meant–he hadn’t been paying attention. She was useful, though, in that she was somewhat famous and happily willing to do him any favors, or connect him with any of her large contact lists, even when he’d already been clear about not being interested in any non-friendly relation with her (using the hardships that came to celebrities’ partners as an excuse), he was a gentleman, after all, and he wouldn’t toy with a woman’s feelings.

“Hey Misa,” Light gave her an easy smile that would hopefully settle her for the rest of the day.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere for the past week! Where have you been hiding? Not with Kiyomi, I hope!”

Takada at his side made an affronted sound that seemed to choke on the way up her throat.

“Behave, Misa. I’ve told you I’m not your property,” Light belittled her with only mild sternness.

Misa shook her head enthusiastically.

“Misa is only teasing, Light! She promises! Besides, Kiyomi and I have started getting along since Spanish class. Haven’t we, Kiyomi?"

Kiyomi seemed startled for a moment, as if she didn’t expect Misa to call her out like that, but recovered quickly to settle her face into her usual cold mask of indifference.

“I suppose so.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. We even planned a fake trip to Playa del Carmen together! Oh, Light, you should join us!”

“I’m taking Korean.”

“Not in class, silly, on the trip!”

"Right… then I happen to be busy around that time of year,” he joked, throwing a smirk at Takada and earning the most formal of snorts he’d heard.

"Miss Amane does have a fondness for fantasizing,” Takada replied instead, like a ready viper waiting for the perfect moment to strike at her victims. Oh, there’s no need to be mean with her, Kiyomi.

The implications seemed to get lost on the blonde, however.

“Pfft, you’re no fun. I’ll borrow him for a bit, Kiyomi. Clearly he needs a little loosening up, and you’re not exactly a party animal, are you?”

Before Kiyomi could reply Misa had already taken Light’s arm and dragged him to the bar for more drinks. Light had to admit, the cocktails options were impressive, and he sort of wanted to try everything on the menu, but in the end, following the beach spirit, he and Misa both ordered a piña colada, and while usually, he wasn’t a fan of too much sweet in his alcohol, the fresh taste felt like a blessing under the hot summer sun, enough that soon he found himself chatting amicably with Misa and even had to catch himself from -dear God- giggling at something she said.

Such was his mildly buzzed state when a sight at the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Turning around, he understood why. A black-haired man was standing under a palm tree and sipping at his own colada, with his back very badly curved in an awful posture and huge eyes fixed somewhere on the sand. Weirdly enough, he was wearing jeans to the beach with only a loose tank top to combat the scorching weather, and still, his wild mop of hair was the most recognizable part of him, which was in itself something, as Light had never in his life seen someone more particular. He’d seen the other boy around campus a handful of times before, but there had never been an opportunity for him to approach him, even though Light had always felt an inexplicably strong pull for him to ask him about his name.

Misa loudly calling his name made him realize he’d been staring.

“Misa, do you know who that is?”

Misa squinted in the direction of Light’s eyes, face lighting up with recognition.

“Of course! That’s Ryuzaki! He’s actually the inheritor of Wammy’s Co. But not many people know about that,” the model smirked like she was telling the juiciest gossip. “People like Takada probably think he sticks out like a sore thumb around here. But the truth is, he’s got more money than any of us combined.” Light’s ears perked up at that. “He’s also one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet, and I’ve met you, Light. I don’t know who invited him, though. Let’s ask him! Hey, Ryuzaki!!"

The odd student turned around towards the voice calling him and tilted his head to the side in silent interrogation.

The boy’s assemblage of quirks brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it before, but he had always thought the student was rather cute even with how little he knew of him.

“Who invited you?!”

Light winced and glared at Misa for how carelessly she had posed such a question, but Ryuzaki didn’t seem the least bit faced and instead cupped a hand near his mouth like a mock-megaphone and shouted: “I just came for the desserts!” with a wide-eyed expression that gave no indication whatsoever of if he was teasing or not.

Misa laughed like she’d heard the best joke ever and Light just blinked in the boy’s direction.

“Isn’t he a blast?” She hollered as Ryuzaki’s eyes met his.

It was hard for Light to describe those few seconds, but for one single moment, the strings holding his soul together seemed to vibrate at a different tune than they’d played previously. He was unsure if he shivered, but he had to break the eye contact like some damned school girl to pull himself back together.

Why did his face feel warm all of a sudden?

"Ooh, I love this song! Let’s dance, Light!” Misa interrupted his thoughts again with a squeal.

“Uhh, sure, yeah…"

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

Dancing was decidedly not as fun unless you had a certain amount of alcohol in your body. Or at least, that was Light’s opinion on the matter. Who’d enjoy several hours of mindlessly moving your body unless somehow inebriated? That’s why Light had to drink another two mimosas to keep up with dancing with Misa for five songs straight, not because he was somewhat shaken up about the guy with the bird’s nest hair and the absent look –Ryuzaki, his brain provided– and certainly not because he was figuring out how to approach him.

He separated from Misa when the sun was already setting, bathing the sea with a last warm goodbye. Everyone at the beach stopped for a moment to marvel at it, but Light only had eyes for Ryuzaki, who was… nowhere to be seen, sending Light into a momentary panic.

He almost slapped himself when he found him below the parasol housing the buffet. It was what Ryuzaki had said before about the only reason for coming to the party. Normally, he would have remembered, which only meant Light’s brain wasn’t behaving as fast as it normally would. It couldn’t be that he’d have too much to drink, could it?

Alright, be smooth, Yagami.

“Hello!” Light chirped with a wide grin, planting himself beside the strange boy who was staring at the lines of sweets like they were study material.

Ryuzaki turned to him with a blink.

That had come higher than intended.

"We, uh, are in the same faculty? I’ve seen you around 345.”

“Light Yagami. Second-year Criminal Justice major. You’re the son of detective-superintendent Soichiro Yagami of the NPA."

"Um.”

“You respect and admire your father greatly and your intention is to become the deputy director of the NPA. You’re as ambitious as you are clever.”

“Why do you-”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re aware of how popular you are around here, word goes around. You’re not the only one I have this sort of information on."

Light wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring.

At the very least, that introduction had sobered him up.

The other student was appraising him with a curious gaze, as he was starting to learn he looked at pretty much everything.

"Is that the way you introduce yourself to everyone?"

"Hmm. Yes, usually. I told you. You’re not special in that regard.”

“In what regard am I special, then?” Light asked cheekily.

“That’s not-”

But he didn’t let him finish before walking around him like a predator would its prey. He made a show of considering what pastry he’d take and settled for a star-shaped cookie. Ryuzaki watched the whole procedure closely and Light smirked at him as he took a bite.

Yes, I made you think about my mouth now. How’s that, smart-ass?

“I think we should get to know each other better, don’t you?”

“And what makes you come to that conclusion?” Ryuzaki supposed.

“Well, I want to, for one.” Light sassed.

“Are you coming on to me?"

Light’s confident semblance cracked. It suddenly dawned on him what he was doing and where. Fuck, what if he isn’t into guys? This was why he never flirted with men unless he was sure the other person was at least bisexual! Or just let the other guys come onto him, which he never had a lack of. Shit.

Ryuzaki seemed to notice his momentary alarm because he placed a hand on his arm in reassurance.

"No, I’m into it. I was just surprised,” he explained with an earnestness Light wasn’t expecting.

“Surprised?”

“People like you don’t usually flirt with me."

"What’s people like me?"

"Now you’re just fishing for compliments."

Light grinned, feeling like his assured (but not overly-presumptuous) self again.

“Swear I’m not.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Your hand is still on my arm, by the way.”

Ryuzaki blinked at the offender, which was indeed still curled around Light’s tricep like a possessive pale spider. He only let go of it slowly, finger by finger, and Light pretended he could see a faint blush on the other’s face with the last rays of sunlight.

There was a conscious effort on his part to not brush those sharp cheeks tenderly with his knuckles, less the sudden contact spook his new sudden fascination away.

“It appears you’re not the only intoxicated one of the two of us,” Ryuzaki admitted in a low voice.

The loud party music and noises of the crowd seemed so far away.

Light took a step forward.

“We should–”

“Light!”

A group of people was coming their way, and Light recognized Takada, Okubo Chise, Kinoshita Hideo, and another fake-blond dude he’d never had any interest in talking to. Kinoshita was the son of a major tech company’s executive and was rotting in money from his million-dollar hair to the ugly fungus in his toenails. Light, sadly, had had a mild interest for him at first, but that went to shit when he came to see how much of an asshole he was.

Kinoshita grabbed him by the shoulder, while Chise and the fake-blond planted themselves in front of Ryuzaki. Takada, for her part, just stood to Light’s side glaring in Ryuzaki’s direction. What the hell?

“Light, what is someone like you doing talking with a freakshow like Ryuzaki.” Kinoshita wondered, exposing his gums in a self-satisfied smile that quickly raised Light’s hackles. "Don’t you know nothing good ever comes from involving yourself with him?”

“Come again?”

“It’s true, Light. He doesn’t have a good reputation,” Takada interjected, not bothering to hide the disgust in her face with a once-over to his new acquaintance. “I don’t know how he’d have the nerve to come in here, uninvited.”

Frowning, Light searched to see the face of the boy he’d just been so pleasantly flirting with and, outwardly, found him to appear relatively unbothered. He’d expected him to be angry, indignant, or even sad, but Ryuzaki only had his hands in his jean pockets and was yet again staring with wide eyes at some unknown fixed point as if no one were talking about him.

“You’re going to have to be more specific about whatever offense Ryuzaki’s done. But whatever the case, I find it incredibly distasteful to round him up like you’re doing.”

“It’s alright, Light. Kinoshita is probably still just angry because I exposed a nasty little online scam of his, and attained information that could lose him the already crumbling favor of his father, and also the fact that he is nevertheless unable to cause me any significant harm,” Ryuzaki answered matter-of-factly without sparing a single glance at Kinoshita’s direction.

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

Okay, that was…

Extremely attractive.

“You’re a lying little cunt!” Kinoshita snarled.

“The naive teenagers being granted false scholarships would argue otherwise.”

“What? Hideo, you said–” Takada began.

But the small elite group exploded in an argument about what Kinoshita had or hadn’t done, with the latter giving weaker and weaker arguments. Light was so engrossed in his rightful indignation and the opportunity to disgrace Kinoshita, that by the time he called for Ryuzaki’s own word in the matter the strange student had already left without saying a word.

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

“Ryuzaki!"

The hunched figure paused in his lazy gait towards the beach boulevard, but the dark disheveled head didn’t turn around. Light was panting by the time he caught up to him and he could feel the beginning of a headache already forming.

Night had already fallen and the breeze charged at them from within the sea.

"You’re already going?"

"I am indeed approximately 700 feet from the party."

"Not what I was asking.” Light rolled his eyes.

Ryuzaki turned around finally, all sharp angles and even darker eyes illuminated by the blue and purple artificial lights on the street.

“Well, your question didn’t contain your true intentions either. You’re asking why I’m going. And I assume this means you’d like to talk more?"

Fastidious asshole.

L didn’t wait for Light to answer before taking his phone from his jean’s pocket and handing it to him with the contact app open.

Light typed quickly and handed the phone back, which finally brought a blessed smile to Ryuzaki’s face.

"I’m looking forward to talking to you soon, Light Yagami. Oh and before I forget."

Long, spidery fingers settled themselves in a careful hold below Light’s chin, and before he had time to process what was about to happen, soft lips gave a feathery kiss to his own, so quick it might have been fantasy if it weren’t for the ghost of a contact searing an imprint over Light’s heart.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you at the entrance ceremony.”

#fanfiction #death note #submission #lawlight #misa amane #kiyomi takada #l lawliet #light yagami #ratings: mature #lightlessons #danthegeek #Near's Bday Finale 2k21

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

Hello, hello!! It's me again!! Here to interrupt your feed with yet another of my random genshin thought of the day! Recently, on one of Zach's (Aether's VA) streams with Poonam (Klee's VA), one of the viewers mentioned something about Klee driving a mini-car affectionately titled the 'dodocar'. This got the gears in my head turning, and I started thinking about the different modes of transport each character would use. These are some scenarios my brain came up with!! I wanted to send them your way because you always have the loveliest ideas, and wanted to know if you had any more thoughts on the matter! As such, Miss Hazel, today I present to you my offering of Genshin boys as different modes of transport! 💕

- 🔎

Diluc would drive a car. No question about this. I've always imagined him to have a sleek, modern-looking car that's maybe a little bit on the pricier side, but not completely outrageous by any means. The man doesn't really seem like the type who would want to show off his wealth, but he also can't deny that he has an eye for much of the finer things in life.

You watch as Diluc mans the car, watching the rolling hills flash by the window. There's something uniquely intoxicating about sitting in a car with someone else for hours on end. It makes you want to open up to them, makes you want to share stories which you perhaps wouldn't have wanted to share otherwise, much like a drunkard who's had one glass too many and is now blabbering on about their whole life story. Ah, but then again, perhaps this is only so because the two of you were drunk on something else entirely? You didn't know the answer to that question, but as you watched the way his sunset-eyes crinkled with mirth at your terrible, terrible Michael Jackson impression, you think you were okay with never knowing the answer to that question so long as the two of you could stay in this moment forever, just as you were.

Albedo doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who would really enjoy driving. Instead, I think his preferred mode of transport would be cycling! He wakes up much earlier every morning because he insists on cycling to work instead of driving. Albedo seems like a very practical sort of fellow. Sure, cycling is more time consuming, but it's efficient, more environmentally friendly, and overall better for his health. That makes it a win in his book.

On the weekends though, especially as the weather starts to get warmer and the air is filled with the welcomed promise of spring, Albedo would often take you out for dates in the park on a special tandem-bike. The two of you would cycle around for a while just watching the flowers bloom and the greenery come back to life, before stopping for a quick picnic lunch underneath a grand magnolia tree. You laugh as you move to wipe the little bit of cream from the cake you two just devoured which is still stuck on his upper lip. It's a sweet, saccharine kind of love, one that reminds you of fresh morning-dew and hopeful new beginnings.

Over the summer, you found out that Childe has somehow managed to get his grubby little hands on a jet ski. Uh-oh. He says he wants you to ride it with him. He's saying please. He's giving you the puppy-dog eyes. You cannot say no to that face. You do not know where he got it from or even when he learned how to use a jet ski, but really don't think this is a good idea. Come on, you cannot look at this man and try to convince me that he is not an absolute speed demon. One moment he's showing off cool tricks on the jet-ski and then the next moment he's- oh JESUS CHRIST CHILDE SLOW THE FUCK DOWN, SOMEONE'S GONNA FALL!!

Thankfully, he's a skilled enough driver that everything went relatively smoothly. This time, at least. As he stops the vehicle to give you that dopey little grin and make sure you're still alive, you take a moment to playfully hit him on the shoulder for making your heart race a million miles an hour. He only laughs. Still, it was exhilirating. And you would never admit it to his face, but he does look kind of cool showing off tricks on the water. Maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

Kaeya is a proud owner of a motorcycle. Specfically, he owns one of those lovely old-school 1980's Honda motorcycles. The people living in your neighbourhood almost went mad the moment they saw him pull up at your door with, complete with dark sunglasses and a leather jacket. You thought he looked rather stupid. Still, you were glad that he brought his bike with him. It made it easier to traverse the city traffic and get to your destination quicker. Kaeya takes you out on a ride to one of his favourite destinations for a midnight snack: a night market, filled with rows and rows of stalls selling piping hot food. You hop from stall to stall, sharing the food and tasting everything the market has to offer together before heading back with a full heart and a full stomach.

There's a sense of youthful freedom that comes with taking late-night rides with your beau like this. Your arms around his waist, the wind billowing past your face, the moonlight reflecting the stars in his eyes... It makes you feel young again, makes you feel as though you were seventeen once more, discovering the thrills of love for the very first time. You've missed this. You've missed him. Sighing contentedly against his shoulder, you silently watch the blinking city lights fade in and out of view as you drive through the city that never sleeps.

Zhongli... Has no vehicle of his own. He's broke, your honour. Sorry Zhongli, I don't make the rules here. Thankfully, he lives in a city with a great public transport system, so he has no issues getting around if he needs to. The lack of personal vehicles also means he gets to spend more time walking with you, an activity which he has grown to really enjoy, so I suppose there is a silver lining after all. The two of you often work rather late, so the streets were usually barren by the time you leave the office. You and Zhongli would often walk to the train station together after your shifts have ended, basking in the stillness of the night and the almost alien glow of fluorescent lights.

He loves chatting with you during these walks. He would ask you questions about your day, about your work, about plans for the weekend. Sometimes he would point out the different types of plants and rocks he noticed on your walk to the station. In the train, the two of you would sit silently together, content to just enjoy each other's presence. Sometimes, on particularly rough days, you find yourself falling asleep on his shoulder while waiting for your destination. He finds this incredibly endearing, and would always take it as a cue to give you a quick peck on the cheek before tucking you closer to his side.

Sometime later, you two are awoken by the train staff. The both of you had fallen asleep on the train and had missed your stop. Whoops.

i love these!

I really vibe with the Albedo one too - he’s very practical and pretty frugal, waste isn’t something he seems to enjoy creating so everything eco-friendly would be his go to ( we can be eco-friendly together my dear )

lol Zhongli!

plus you made these cute little interactions T.T adorable to the max!!

#hazelmail #🔎 anon #🔎 works #genshin impact #transportation headcanons #hazeldigsthis

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years

Note

same anon again! and totally cool with the last request :) So I popped up with a new one. Same thing daphne x reader using 15 and/or 47 from the prompt list! (preferably daphne asking out reader but anything’s cool) :))

A/N: Hi lovely anon... You're the sweetest <3 I really think you might be my official fav person rn :D And yes, yes, I'm super happy to see you again in my inbox and... oh boy, I love Daphne x Reader so much. Here you go with with the requests you asked for :)

Warnings: Might add but I consider both of those works as children-friendly lol (maybe some alcohol but that's pretty much it)...

15: “Just tell her that.” / “Such a pep talk…”

"Pansy?"

You burst into the Slytherin common room with as much energy as your legs could carry you with at the late hour as it was. Exactly, 1 am, if to be radically precise. But getting acquainted with Pansy's strange late-night habits for over seven years, you knew you could find her sprawling over the large lounge, still awake, with the Firewhisky drink in her hand per usual.

As presumed, you were right -- she was sitting, still fully dressed in her school robes and staring aloof at the fireplace, drifting more in her perplexing thoughts than she would want to. Hearing your sleepy voice, however, made her tilt her head and glance at you, standing in your emerald-green pajamas, at the entrance of the stairs to the girls' room.

She smirked. "Insomnia playing over?" she asked, teasingly, her sparkling eyes locking with your fluttery ones.

"No," you answered carefully before covering your mouth from a yawn to which Pansy's smirk widened. You flopped tiredly on the sofa, next to her and laid your head instinctively on her shoulder. "There's something I wanted to talk with you about."

"That's why you got out of bed? To talk to me about something you could do as well in the morning but without bothering your pretty face?" she asked, and though you couldn't see her face, you imagined she was frowning in incomprehension.

"Well..." you drawled, already partly regretting you had decided to come over with such a sensitive issue to her. "It's the only time Daphne is not around."

"Oh...Is that--" Pansy gasped in enthusiasm, throwing your head off of her to which you reacted with a small moan of pain, to look directly into your face. "Are you going to finally admit you're so madly in love with her and that you drool at her every time she doesn't look?"

Well, that was straightforward...

"W-what?" you sputtered out, trying to make sense of what you wanted to express. But dealing suddenly with too much confusion and surprise, you found it to be a challenging task to perform. "How would you know? I've never told anyone!"

At the raised, almost frantic tone of your voice, Pansy grinned, probably satisfied with the fact she dared to shock you. "You are the worst player in this puppy-love game if you haven't noticed yet," she said, arching her eyebrows. "It's almost hard to miss you staring at her in the classrooms or... I don't know... even when you talk to her, smiling like mad. Only concerns are for Daphne, who seems to be totally oblivious to that."

"You think? I mean, hasn't she noticed? Did she s--"

"No," Pansy interrupted you intentionally, rolling her eyes. "I think she has other doubts than that. Besides... it's also she who attempts to hide her goo-goo eyes from you."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Ughh... She has a crush on you too! Happy?"

"No, she does no--"

"Of course she does, you unheeding dolt! One time, I even caught her scribbling your name in her notebook with small hearts around. What do you think it means?"

"I--" Momentarily speechless, you dropped your gaze to the hands and unconsciously started playing with your fingers. "I don't know what to say..."

"Just tell her that." Pansy shrugged, finding the simplest solution in everything while eloquently sipping her drink. "It's a normal thing to do. Go over to her during lunchtime and talk to her. Confess."

You huffed, suddenly feeling a stream of sarcasm dancing on your tongue. "Oh, really? Such a pep talk, you know... Thanks, Pans."

She nudged you with her elbow. "C'mon. You've wasted plenty of time daydreaming about her. It's a moment to take up action. Tomorrow, it's your round, or otherwise, it might pass."

Sighing, you peeked at her with seriousness. "I don't know about that."

"Then you'll never know," she commented aptly, and you knew she made her point. "I realize it might be confusing. But hey, no matter what happens, I'll be always there for you. Remember?"

"Remember," you repeated, somehow feeling more confident than you had been ten minutes ago.

XOXOXO

47. “Are you asking if I’m a single?” / “Okay… I-I will.”

The party night was... disastrous, to say at least.

And you really didn't want to be here. But all thanks to your best friend, Susan, who was definitely a go-go type of a person and had been insistently persuading you to get out with her ("This'd be so fun, Y/N!" said she with already a little too drunk tone), by now you were being pushed in the crowd of inebriated people, soaking in sweat due to the heated breaths that were puffing and blowing at your neck from all around. Making your best attempts to push your way, conflict-less, to some less teeming space, you met with a failure by being shoved to your previous position by someone's hips from behind and a loud 'Watch it!'.

Frustration and exasperation accumulated in you, and you felt truly flustered with a situation. As it turned out, flustered enough to provoke the combative self you hadn't known existed in you, to start jostling everyone around to move away from your path to freedom. It required a few angry 'ouches' and curses sent towards you, but finally...Finally, you succeeded in getting away from the bustle and a disgusting odor of sweat that hurt your nostrils just too much.

"Double Scotch, please," you said breathlessly to the bartender as you had reached the bar and casually leaned over the counter. "Triple if needed. Make it extra strong."

The bartender nodded merely, giving you a perfunctory smile, before taking care of your order by grasping some liquor from the shelf and pouring it professionally into the glass. Too distracted with exhaustion from too loud music and screeches from the crowd singing along the songs' lyrics, you hadn't even noticed a blonde girl with a glint of explicit interest in her eyes staring at you. Well, not until...

"Is it a way of dealing with the party?" the girl asked, smiling. "Or are you trying to forget you're here?"

"Both, I guess." You laughed, turning your head to behold a nice-looking gal who was casually sipping her Mohito drink. A really nice-looking, actually. Her hair was laid in the smooth curls on her broad shoulder, emphasizing her soft facial features and shiny, blue eyes. Dressed in the tight gleaming-black dress with the heals lengthening her legs, she looked more than appealing. "I was forced by a friend to come. Not my intention."

"Tell me about it," muttering under her breath, she playfully rolled her eyes and smirked suggestively. Then with an outstretched hand, she proffered you an inviting smile and introduced herself, "I'm Daphne."

You took a hand invitation, shaking in lightly and reciprocating a smile. "Y/N."

"So, you came here with a friend?" the girl, now as you knew Daphne, asked you with an arousing curiosity. "Or girlfriend, or boyfriend?"

Alcohol being the best solution for straightforwardness as it was, forced you to express your first-moment thought without any earlier contemplation. "Are you asking if I'm single?" You took a gulp of your drink and squinted suddenly at the realization of your words. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that! It's just--"

"It's okay, I'm aware of the after-alcohol effects," Daphne soothed you down and tried her best to hide her pre-momentary shock from her face, though you could still detect it.

You fucking idiot!

"Yeah, I've come here with my roommate. She loves parties and said it would be a crime to miss one, especially on Friday night," you answered her question, attempting to get slickly out of your faux pas.

Smiling, forgetting about your little confusion, and ignoring the noise from the background, you chatted, relishing each other's company and treating it as a make-up for ruined Friday plans, fault laying on both of your friends' sides. How much time had passed while you were sitting there, taking the next rounds from the bartender and goggling at each other you didn't know, but one thing was sure -- you both definitely enjoyed it.

The things came, however, to the end as soon as Susan, plastered as you had never seen her before, approached you in a stumbling manner. She was giggling like mad, which clearly indicated one thing -- it's about time to export her back to the house.

"What the heck?! It's not a funeral, peach. Come dance with me!" she screamed as if she was on the opposite side of the room, putting her arms around your shoulder and dangling on you to keep her balance. "Cooooommmmee..."

"No," you shot back, also drunk but much less than her, which made you take responsibility in your hands. Instead of looking at Susan, however, you glanced at Daphne apologetically. "We're calling a cab."

"But, I--"

"Shut it," you said, a little angry with her intoxicated state but yourself having a bit of a problem creating a coherent sentence. "The party is over. We're- are go-ing home."

Susan made a small groan but said nothing, to which you were very thankful because you wanted to end the conversation with Daphne. The sudden influx of bravery had overtaken, and you asked her to hand over her phone. So she compliantly did, and you tapped your phone number on the screen, saving it on the contacts list before handing it back to the proper owner.

"I'm sorry it turned out that way. In these circumstances," you apologized to Daphne, the weight on your arm becoming gradually heavier as your friend wriggled in her place, still grasping your shoulder like to necessary sanity. "It was nice meeting you."

Daphne smiled at that. "You too. Good luck with..." She didn't finish her sentence, but you concluded she was referring to the little situation with drunken Susan.

"Thanks. Oh, and..." You suddenly changed the timbre of your voice to a little deeper one, almost exigent actually. "...don't forget to call me."

A coy smile spread on Daphne's lips, and she said, more in the murmur than a normal tone, "Okay...I-I will..."

And then, you were strolling away, satisfied with how your Friday turned out, much less lame than you had initially assumed.

Maybe the party wasn't such a bad idea after all.

XOXOXOXO

A/N: I enjoyed writing those actually. These had to be drabbles but somehow turned out to be full-length one-shots. But no fault of mine; these were just my hands doing most of the job! I'm taking a break to spend some quality time with my friends (yes, it's me bragging I have a private life lol), and I'm sitting at my computer to write the next goodie :) See ya in some time!

Btw, as I've counted (via my computer) it's almost 2k words. What's wrong?!

#Daphne greengrass x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Drabble night #prompt list #asks #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter characters #slytherin #pansy parkinson x reader #Daphne greengrass #pansy parkinson #Daphne greengrass x pansy parkinson #draco x reader #requests #send them over #!!#lol

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yoontopia · 4 years

Text

sobremesa | kth

pairing: kim taehyung x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers(?). tiny amounts of smut in the form of grinding, heavy makeout sessions in a car, mostly fluff, microscopic amounts of angst HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAE!!!!

rating: M

word count: 9.1k

sobremesa: a spanish word for that time spent after a meal, hanging out with family or friends, enjoying each others’ company

summary: you’ve known Kim Taehyung practically all your life – your parents are best friends and that inevitably leads to the two of you being forced to hang out at family gatherings – being the same age and all. But you don’t really know Kim Taehyung beyond cramped bedrooms, family potlucks, and annual New Year’s Eve parties. He’s never been a part of your picture and you’ve never been a part of his. You know Kim Taehyung in snapshots, periodic glimpses into his life over shared meals that will never overlap with yours outside these little moments. Or so you think.

-2006-

“This is my boy – Taehyung – he’s twelve too!” Mr. Kim announces, with a wide smile on his face. You stare curiously at the little boy hiding behind his father. He’s got a tuft of dark hair and he looks over at you curiously, like you’re a specimen at a museum. Your dad pats you on your back and one look at his face tells you that you’re meant to entertain this Taehyung kid.

“Oh, um,” you say, stepping forward. “We can just hang out in my room, I guess.”

“We’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” your mom tells you, smiling encouragingly. You nod and beckon Kim Taehyung upstairs. He follows you wordlessly and you usher him into your bedroom. He looks around, that same curious expression on his face before making himself comfortable on the beanbag chair you keep in your room.

“So, do you wanna like—watch a movie or something?” You don’t have a lot of experience with boys. Taehyung is small for his age though, and you can look at him in the eye if he stands up. He’s a lot smaller than the boys you’re used to at school, and so you find yourself more comfortable with him. He shrugs in response and you heave out your beloved laptop your dad had so kindly let you use for the night. Taehyung’s eyes flicker towards your bookshelf and his expression visibly brightens.

“You like Cardcaptor Sakura?” he asks, and you hear his voice for the first time. You look at him in surprise. No boy at your school likes Cardcaptor Sakura, but you love the series and your parents bought you a couple of volumes for your birthday.

“Yeah! It’s really cute. Uhm… do you wanna watch that instead? I have the DVD set.” Taehyung nods, looking far more enthusiastic than before and the two of you binge the entire first season, sitting shoulder to shoulder on your double bed.

-2007-

You don’t know anyone here. It’s somebody’s birthday, but they’re an adult and you don’t really care. These kids are unfamiliar and rowdy and honestly all you want to do is go home and read Harry Potter until you fall asleep. You’d hang out with your parents, but they’d ushered you to go play with the other kids. Looking through the various bedrooms in this ridiculously large house you hear voices coming from behind a shut door.

Knocking before opening it slowly, you peek in only to find Kim Taehyung with his arm around some kid’s neck. They’re on the floor, wrestling. Boys, you sigh mentally. Taehyung looks up, hair in his eyes, a sheen of sweat covering him.

“My phone—get my phone!” He’s yelling your name and you’re surprised he even remembers you. You’d only hung out a handful of times after your first, fateful meeting after all. You glance down and pick up the small black device the other boy is trying to reach for. Taehyung lets the other kid go and he’s gasping for air as you hand the phone back to its rightful owner.

“I’m Jungkook,” the boy introduces, voice high. “Junghyun’s younger brother,” You have no idea who Junghyun is, but you nod and introduce yourself anyway. “Are you Tae’s age?” Your eyes travel to Taehyung, who’s scrolling on his phone now.

“Yeah,” he answers for you, and you’re surprised to hear how his voice has deepened. “She’s my age. Close the door, will you? We’re watching Claymore and Kook’s mom will have a stroke if she finds out—he’s only ten.” You shut the door behind you cautiously. At least he hadn’t demanded you leave.

Feeling weirdly accepted and elated, you sit down to join the boys.

-2008-

Jungkook becomes a part of your small family-friends group. None of you even go to the same schools, but you see each other occasionally when your parents want to spend time with their friends. You like Jungkook, even though he’s younger. He’s friendly and bubbly and likes manga as much as you do. You’re still scared of his older brother though, but Junghyun is old (three whole years older than you!) and he’s allowed to stay home alone when his parents leave so he never comes anyway. Rumor has it that he even has a girlfriend.

You’re making it through life like any middle-schooler would. You have two close friends at school that you do everything with and it’s the year your dad presents you with your first phone. It’s got a full keyboard and you can text Jiyeon and Solhee whenever you want. You spend hours into the night talking about Jung Hoseok, who’s a ninth grader, and how cool he is. You have the tiniest crush on Hoseok – he’s the dance team captain, and he always smiles at you in the hallways even though he doesn’t know you. Hoseok smiles at everyone, it’s just how amazing he is. You’re too shy to talk to him though, envying the girls he speaks to on the daily. You think you and Hoseok would be good friends if you were braver.

-2009-

“You’re going to a French immersion high school? Seriously?” You don’t know if you’re more impressed or exasperated. Maybe both. Taehyung nods and accepts the cup of tea you offer him. You can hear your parents heartily belting out to some 80’s pop song in the basement – it seems the karaoke session is going well.

“Figured its never too late to learn,” he shrugs, taking a sip of the drink and wincing because its piping hot. His voice has deepened now that the two of you are fourteen, sounding like it’s dipped in honey. “Plus, all my friends are going there, and I don’t wanna be that guy who knows no one at his high school on the first day.” You try to laugh along, but it comes out all awkward—you don’t want to admit that that’s going to be you at your new school. Taehyung eyes you suspiciously.

“But of course,” he continues, in that same airy tone. “I think it’d be cool to start over somewhere where no one knows you. A clean slate.” You smile privately at his tact.

“It’s nerve-wracking though. What if I don’t make friends?” you sound small as you voice out the one fear you’ve been too scared to admit. Taehyung hums and sips his tea again.

“You will,” he says easily. “But if you don’t you always have me and Jungkook. We’re practically forced to hang out with you.”

You throw your wet teabag at him. He laughs, the sound rich and deep and you find your mind cleared of your anxiety.

-2010-

“Ay here comes the Frenchie,” Jungkook wolf-whistles and you turn around to see Taehyung making his way toward you. “Are you fluent yet?”

“No, but I can tell you to fuck off in more than one language now,” Taehyung grins, giving you a one-armed hug in greeting. He smells like vanilla and clean laundry – a refreshing contrast from the boys at school that drown in Old Spice. You want to bury your nose in his sweatshirt.

“Wow, school fees well spent,” Jungkook nods sagely. “I can’t believe I’m the only middle-schooler left.” Taehyung is taking his seat in the chair next to you, your hand still grasped in his, much larger and warmer one. Taehyung has always been physical – not just with you, but with everyone. You’re all at a restaurant this time, celebrating the fact that Junghyun not only got into his dream university, but managed to survive without flunking his first semester. You don’t know why you had to squeeze into a dress for this occasion, but alright. You barely even know Junghyun – he doesn’t fraternize with his kid brother’s best friends. “Oy, here’s Jimin.” The two of you look up to see another boy making his way towards you. “My mom’s best friend’s kid,” Jungkook whispers to you two, rather like he’s divulging the nation’s greatest secrets.

Jimin sits down next to Jungkook and you mutter polite hellos at each other. As it turns out, he’s the same age as you and Taehyung.

“So, this is the kid’s end of the table, huh?” Taehyung murmurs in your ear and you laugh.

“Don’t complain – would you rather sit next to my dad and have him clap you on the back hard every minute?” Taehyung winces at that, clearly having multiple war flashbacks. Jimin stares at you two.

“So how do you all know each other?” has asks. Taehyung blinks.

“Oh me? I’ve known her—since when—? We were like twelve,” you nod. Has it really been that long? You’re sixteen now. “And I met Jungkook not long after, I think.”

“The three musketeers,” Jungkook cheers, raising his glass as if its not full of just orange juice. Jimin nods. Taehyung rolls his eyes

As the dinner progresses, you find out you like Jimin too. He’s friendly and before you know it, you have each other on Facebook. Jungkook proclaims that all of you need a way to keep in touch and that’s how you find yourself in a group chat with three noisy boys.

-2011-

“Uno motherfucker!” Jungkook dramatically throws down his second-last card onto the pile. You groan. How is this boy so ridiculously good at literally every game?

“Not so fast, Jeon,” Taehyung is next to you, wearing pajama bottoms with ducklings on them. Throwing down his only wild card, he’s changing the color of cards up. You laugh delightedly because thank-you-Tae-you-lifesaver. He gives you a hearty fist bump. Jimin is on your other side, and as always, the man is more action than words because he quietly puts down a +4 that has Jungkook screaming into his pillow.

You’re all cooped up in your bedroom. Taehyung’s parents have already told him he could stay over, and he’s promptly changed into his sleeping clothes. It isn’t a rare occurrence for him to crash in your guest bedroom every time your parents hang out late into the night. Jimin and Jungkook are still in their jeans getting more and more uncomfortable by the hour. It’s past midnight and the parents downstairs have no intention of ending the party any time soon.

“You should’ve just stayed over too,” Taehyung says, watching Jungkook trying to change his sitting position for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

“I live literally down the block,” Jungkook snaps. It’s true – Jungkook’s family had moved onto your street only last year. “I’ll sleep in my own bed thanks.”

“Besides, is Jooyoung okay with you staying over at another girl’s house?” Jimin mutters, picking up a card and frowning. “Won’t she have a fit?”

“Who?” you and Jungkook ask at the same time.

“His girlfriend,” Jimin giggles next to you, and Jungkook is practically yodeling. Taehyung’s ears go slightly red. You look at him in surprise.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you tell him and his ears, if possible, go even redder.

“He’s been with her for a whole month,” Jimin proclaims proudly and you’re looking at Taehyung again because wow—that seems serious.

You have no expertise in dating. There’s a cute boy in your English class called Choi Seungcheol that you like to look at. He’s got a nice smile and really long eyelashes over eyes that look like they hold galaxies in them. One time, he lent you his dictionary and you almost melted into a puddle of goo. But Seungcheol runs with the popular kids, even though he’s always been sweet to you, and you’re still somewhat of a recluse. All of a sudden, Taehyung seems really grown up and faraway.

“She already knows,” Taehyung says testily, and gestures wildly at you, “Plus it’s not like the two of us are even remotely close enough for her to care too much.”

You find you’ve suddenly lost all interest in the card game.

-2012-

“Can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Jungkook pouts as he stares at you and Taehyung. “Can’t believe I only have Jimin from now on.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin quips. It’s your graduation party – the third graduation party you’ve attended in the last two weeks – Taehyung had his first, then Jimin, and now you. You’ve chosen a university that’s three hours away. Jimin chose to attend college in town.

Taehyung, surprising you all, is moving a whopping six hours away, across the country. The art program he’s chosen is super elite and you’d all had a potluck at his house with your families when he’d gotten accepted. You sip on your wine, still getting used to the taste of alcohol. You turned eighteen only last month, but Jimin and Taehyung are still minors, and are both sporting matching cups of sparkling apple juice.

“We’ll be back for the holidays,” you tell Jungkook. “I can even drive back on some weekends!”

“Yeah, but when our families hang out, I’ll be the only one there,” Jungkook continues, looking genuinely upset. “Gonna just stay home from now on.”

“What about me?” Jimin asks indignantly. “I’m still here!”

“You have, like, a billion friends,” Jungkook huffs. “And a girlfriend.”

“Good point.” Jimin agrees. You and Taehyung laugh.

“Well, we still have all summer,” you say. “The four of us should find some time to hang out before I move at the end of August.” Jimin nods at that, reaching forward to eat the chips off the plate in front of him.

The four of you look at each other. Your lives really don’t overlap outside the confines of your bedroom and while Jungkook is upset, you know he’s got his own horde of friends back at school. He’s on the football team, and in the multimedia club. Your best friend’s little sister goes to his school and you’ve heard through her that he’s basically the school’s heartthrob. A little hard for you to believe though – Jungkook will always be that small child who Taehyung tackled to the ground for trying to steal his phone back when you were twelve.

You look around your room. You only have around ninety days left in these four walls, in this particular life, before all of you move into the next chapter.

-2013-

You’re shut up in a bathroom stall at your dorm, tears threatening to spill. Your first year as an engineering undergraduate is almost over, but your mother’s voice over the phone has opened all the flood gates you’d been so carefully keeping close these past few months.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’re bumbling, and your mother can hardly make sense of you. You know that it’s probably coming as a huge surprise to them. You’ve spent so long pretending you’ve been fine all year that your family hasn’t had a clue how rough things really had been for you. “I want to drop out, mom, my grades are so bad, I’m so close to flunking out.”

Your mother is comforting you over the phone, but you continue to sob, months and months of tears and anxiety finally getting their chance to flow freely. You don’t care if your dormmates hear you – they were never really your friends anyway.

Weeks later, when your parents have picked you up, and have driven you back home, you know you’ll never go back to that place. You lie in your bed staring up at the ceiling, feeling void of any emotion. You’d always done fairly well in school so the significant drop in your grades at university had taken a toll on your mental health. The sun shines outside, the first signs of summer peeking through, but you can’t bring yourself to push open your curtains. You feel like a failure. You are a failure.

At some point during the day, Taehyung comes into your room, knocking quietly. He doesn’t speak, and you haven’t seen him for a whole year. Contact was few and far between and seeing Jimin and Tae do so well in their respective programs had made you put up a front with them too. He probably had no idea that anything was ever wrong.

Even if he had, you tell yourself, there was nothing he would really do. You find you barely know Taehyung, are only obligated to spend time with him because your parents are friends with his folks. But he’s here, in your room now, and you can’t hear Mr. Kim’s booming voice downstairs. You selfishly wonder if he came to see you by himself. Only for you, and not because of his parents.

He quietly lies down next to you, and the two of you lie there, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

He stays like that until you finally fall asleep.

-2014-

You scream when you open the mail and Jimin jumps next to you, spilling milk all over the kitchen island.

“I got in!” you scream and Jimin blinks owlishly up at you. “Chim, I got in!”

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Now Jimin is screaming, grabbing you out of joy and pulling you in. The two of you are jumping up and down in your kitchen and your parents are here wondering what the ruckus is. You’re merely shoving the letter towards them, too overjoyed to speak.

After taking the summer off, and pulling out of your old university, you’d applied to the college in your town – the same one Jimin attends. You figured you were better off in a program that genuinely excites you and come September, you and Jimin would be attending the same school.

“We gotta party,” your dad exclaims, a big grin on his face. You know your parents had partially blamed themselves for everything that had happened last year. For maybe forcing you towards a program you weren’t really interested in, only because the employment opportunities were higher, and you had the grades to get in. You’re pleased to see them so proud and happy for you. You’re in a better place now, have gotten the support you needed to help you get through that rough patch. Last year feels like a fever dream, like it belongs to someone else, someone that’s not you.

Your dad is calling the usual crowd up to celebrate, and you can’t wait to see Jungkook and Junghyun. It’s been months since you saw them last and you know Jungkook is a senior and is swamped with college admissions and his football games.

Taehyung doesn’t come home this year – working at an internship somewhere on the other end of the country that’s been keeping him busy. You don’t hear from him much at all.

-2015-

You gratefully accept the glass of wine from Jimin and glance over at the giant Christmas tree in his living room. The Parks have decorated it up to the nines, a real step-up from last year.

“Your ugly sweater is so not ugly,” Jimin groans from next to you, and you look down. It’s a simple grey sweater with a giant ornament on it, the baubles are three-dimensional.

“It was the only one I had,” you sigh, leaning back into his couch. “Where is everyone?”

“Jungkook is spending Christmas at his girlfriend’s,” Jimin tells you and you roll your eyes. “But he says he’ll see us for New Years. Tae’s family just arrived actually – he’s in the kitchen saying hello to everyone.”

“Bet all the moms flocked to him,” you mutter. Taehyung is the group’s golden boy – the success story. He’d secured himself a fancy internship and was pretty much guaranteed a job straight out of university when he graduated in a couple years. Jimin nods sleepily next to you. You cozy up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung arrives in the living room then, his eyes travelling from the giant Christmas tree to the two of you folded onto the couch. You wonder if you’ve had too much wine already because you’re definitely imagining the strange look that crosses his face when he sees Jimin lean into you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person – Instagram pictures really don’t do him justice. For some reason, Jimin quickly pulls away from your embrace.

He’s grown taller, and his hair is dyed a soft honey blonde falling into his eyes, a piece tucked behind one ear. He’s wearing a sweater that’s literally the same color as the Grinch but he manages to effortlessly pull it off. Taehyung has always been pretty, you tell yourself, but somehow, he’s managed to get even prettier. He’s half-tucked his ugly sweater into black slacks and looks more like a runway model than someone you’ve known since you were twelve.

He fist-bumps Jimin before collapsing into the couch on your other side.

“What’s the plan tonight Park?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“I brought my poker kit,” Jimin says over your head. “Thought we could play.”

“Poker,” you sigh amusedly. “When only yesterday Jungkook was beating our asses at Uno.” Jimin laughs with his whole body and you giggle sleepily next to him.

“And, how are you?” It takes you a while to notice that Taehyung is talking to you. You straighten up, letting go of Jimin

“M’fine,” you murmur. Taehyung hums. There’s a strange sort of silence that befalls you. You and Taehyung never had a chatty relationship, but it was never like this either. Taehyung feels more and more like a stranger these days. You know facts about his childhood that you’re sure no one else does – the time he broke his arm falling off a bike you had dared him to get on, or the time he’d accidentally eaten a cookie with hazelnuts in it despite being allergic to them – but you don’t know this Taehyung. You don’t know the first thing about him. And it makes you sad.

The two of you make small talk – the weather, Taehyung’s internship, your finals – but it just doesn’t feel the same.

-2016-

It’s really been a whole year since you’ve seen any of these people – except Jimin, you see his ass on campus every damn day. The music is in full swing and your parents are laughing at something Taehyung’s mom is saying.

You’re sitting in a chair next to Jungkook, fresh off his first semester of university. His hair is longer, he’s inked up his right arm and smells like expensive cologne. Despite that, he’s still the lovable goofball you’ve known practically all your life. He lets you tease him about his ink, good-naturedly pulling at your cheek. He towers over you now, has for a few years.

Taehyung sits directly across from you. His hair is back to black, curling and long. He’s wearing thick black-framed glasses today, complaining about leaving his contacts back at university. Jimin isn’t here, having made plans with his dancer friends. It feels like every year, the only constant at these end-of-the-year parties, is you. The only one who makes a conscious effort to attend, who doesn’t treat these family gatherings like back-up plans.

“Jieun said she wants to meet you,” Jungkook is saying. He’s been dating this girl for six months now. “She’s gone home for the holidays, obviously, but maybe in the New Year. When do you go back Tae?”

“The twelfth,” Taehyung answers, mouth full of mashed potato.

“That’s later than usual,” you say in surprise. Taehyung shrugs.

“Didn’t come home for the summer, so figured I’d stay for winter break longer,” he answers, and you nod. You’re still on the “kids” end of the table, despite all of you now being full-grown adults. Some things really never change.

“Y’know we really should hang out,” Jungkook is saying. “I haven’t seen Jimin in two years – isn’t that crazy? Hey, remember when our parents would hang out and drag us with them. At least that meant we saw each other constantly. Now that we have our own lives, I don’t even go when our families hang out.”

You ruffle Jungkook’s hair and he gives you an adoring smile.

“I miss you guys,” he pouts, and something warm floods through you.

“I miss you guys too,” you answer, a little melancholy, a little sad, and Jungkook gives you a dopey grin, completely clueless. But Taehyung doesn’t return your smile, only surveying you quietly through his glasses.

-2017-

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung said they weren’t going to attend this year’s annual New Year’s bash. You can’t say you aren’t crestfallen at the news. It’s clear they all have lives outside their family. Taehyung and Jimin have graduated already. Taehyung doesn’t have enough time off to come home, and Jimin has plans with some guy he’s been seeing lately. Jungkook is going home with Jieun this year to meet her family.

You make plans with your friends from college, and the four of you end up at a bar. It’s fun – you sing karaoke and drink copious amounts of alcohol. You even makeout with strangers.

But somewhere deep down, you know you rather be sitting at the kids end of the table, stuffing your face with food.

-2018-

Taehyung hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked into his house. You’re wearing a dress and some heels because Jimin insisted that the four of you dress up for the occasion, considering you hadn’t been able to get together last year. It’s been a while since the gang was back in town at the same time, and you’d just graduated and secured a decent job right away. Jimin claimed it was a cause to celebrate.

The four of you are at the usual family party this winter, because where else would you be?

Taehyung is very obviously drunk. He isn’t rowdy like Jimin or Jungkook, but you can tell. He sways faintly to the music and his eyes are dark.

At the end of the night Jimin goes home to his boyfriend, and Jungkook to his girlfriend, leaving you and Taehyung to clean up the messes they leave behind. Your parents have long gone home, no longer caring if you stay a little longer, or stay over. Taehyung’s family is practically your family.

You eye him subtly as you’re putting away the board games – his hands are in the pockets of his burgundy trousers. A cream dress shirt is tucked into his pants. As always, he looks good. Taehyung suddenly turns to look at you and you feel your face go warm at his stare.

Before you know it, he’s reaching over to kiss you, large hand cupping your face, head tilting so he can slot himself better against your lips. Your hand grasps at the front of his shirt as you pull him closer and you don’t hesitate to intertwine your free hands.

He wordlessly pulls you towards his bedroom in the basement, careful not to wake his parents. He pushes you down on his bed before climbing on top of you to continue where you’d left off in the living room.

That night, you fall asleep in his arms, naked and satisfied.

-2019-

Kim Seokjin whispers in a terrible joke in your ear, making you giggle. He’s your date for the night – but the two of you aren’t actually dating. Seokjin was a friend from college, albeit your senior, but you’d asked him to accompany you to this year’s New Year’s party and by some miracle he’d said yes.

You know Jin doesn’t think about you in that way – you’re at most like a baby sister to him – but he plays his part and holds your hand and sits next to you and brings you refills whenever he sees your drink is running low. A part of you thinks he knows what the deal is, if the soft way he looks at you is any indication. You owe Jin a big one.

You didn’t want to be the only one in the group without a date. Jimin has brought Min Yoongi, his boyfriend of two years and Jieun is here with Jungkook.

And then there’s the pretty girl on Taehyung’s arm.

You bite your lip. After spending that one night together last year, you and Taehyung had woken up with smiles on your faces. It had been a happy moment, until you’d had to sneak out of his house without his parents noticing. He’d laughed, kissed you on the lips and you’d left. When you’d seen him next, you’d been with Jimin, Jungkook, and all your families. The two of you had shared secret smiles but hadn’t got a moment to yourselves and before you knew it, Taehyung had had to head back across the country – back to his life without you in it.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to discuss whatever had happened between you, and you didn’t think it would be appropriate to discuss over the phone. You’d carried on talking to him like normal, assuming that you’d discuss this whenever he came back home next, and he never brought it up either. You hadn’t realized then that Taehyung only ever came home once a year – for Christmas.

Your heart sinks now, watching as he leans in quietly to talk to her over the loud bass of whatever rap beat Yoongi has chosen. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your college friends, about what had happened. You feel used – that whatever the two of you had, was maybe just a drunken one-night stand. But it hadn’t felt like that to you. It had felt… right. Like the conclusion to something that had been building up for many years now. But looking back, maybe it’s just you that thinks that.

Taehyung has never shown any interest in you in that manner, and you’ve known him for years. He’s dated in that time – even had relationships (Jooyoung from high school comes to mind, and you rack your brain trying to think of other serious girlfriends, but you only come up with girls he’s mentioned once or twice and then never again). Jimin already lives with Yoongi and Jungkook and Jieun are discussing moving in together. In your little group, only you and Taehyung have no strings when it comes to relationships.

You’ve dated too – of course – but never seriously. Your longest relationship lasted three months.

“Is he the one?” Seokjin leans over to ask you in a low voice. You turn to look at him nestled comfortably on the couch next to you, long limbs spread out. “The one you like?”

“Like...huh?” you take a large gulp of your wine. “I’ve never thought about him that way.”

“Then pray tell me why your face has longing written all over it?” Seokjin is astute.

“Thanks for coming today,” you say instead. Jin smiles lazily, long lashes casting shadows on his elegant cheekbones.

“I’ll even peck you on the lips at midnight if you want me to,” he says cheekily, and you slap his face away laughing.

“Aren’t you two adorable!” Jimin collapses on the couch next to Jin and offers him a friendly fist bump. Jimin knows Jin isn’t your boyfriend but is smart enough to not say anything.

“Are we?” Jin grins, throwing his arm around your neck to pull you towards him, your cheeks smushing together. “You hear that babe?”

“Oof,” you groan against him and he lets go of you to stand up. Motioning towards the bathroom, he flashes one of his infamous grins before making his way through the living room. Jimin slides over towards you, neatly taking your drink from your hand before taking a sip.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“His parents called, he’s talking to them out on the deck,” Jimin looks at you. You look at him and raise your eyebrows. “You okay?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I dunno, you always get this look on your face when you’re not,” he hums, sipping your wine again. “How long do you think I’ve known you?” You roll your eyes. You’re eyeing Taehyung again. He came to the party late and hadn’t as much as introduced his lady friend to you. He hadn’t even looked at you. Was this how your friendship with Taehyung was going to end?

“Who’s the girl?” you can’t help but ask, jutting your chin in the direction of the pair. A knowing look crosses Jimin’s features.

“Yoona something,” he says. “They work together, I think. Her flight home got cancelled so Tae brought her back here.” Jimin looks at you again. “They’re not dating – if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Fucking, then.”

“Well, probably,” Jimin laughs. “It’s Taehyung,” Of course. It’s Taehyung. You huff sarcastically. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” You groan. What is with your friends today. “When will you admit it to yourself?”

“Admit what?”

Jimin gives out a short laugh and stands up.

“You’re both so painfully alike, I’m going to get frustrated,” he mutters, half under his breath. You tilt your head curiously at his wording, but he doesn’t elaborate. “One is horrible with making a move and the other too dense to realize what’s staring at them in their face.” You watch Jimin head off, muttering to himself and shake your head.

When Jin returns with another bad joke about the toilet and pinches your cheek adoringly, taking up his spot next to you on the couch, you’re far too busy laughing to notice the way Taehyung’s eyes flash across the room.

-The Present-

“Tae’s coming home this year, isn’t he?” you mother casually asks. You’re in the middle of putting the cakes in the oven and you pause.

“Is he? I haven’t asked,” you answer, schooling your voice carefully.

“His mother mentioned that he doesn’t seem too happy lately,” you mom continues on from the other end of the kitchen. “They want him to move back here, or somewhere closer to here.”

“Good luck with that,” you snort. There’s three feet of snow that arrived last night and you’re not looking forward to shoveling it all by yourself. You haven’t seen Taehyung properly since the two of you had… fooled around some two years ago. Whatever idea you’d entertained about the two of you after that, it had all just been clearly in your head. Taehyung was barely home long enough for you to hang out as a group and if the rumors amongst the parents were anything to go by, you weren’t surprised he wanted to avoid the gossiping small town feel of this place.

Frankly, you’re dreading seeing Taehyung this year. This year’s party is definitely more exclusive than last year’s. It’ll just be the four of you this year. Like the old days. And Jieun and Yoongi, but you’ve known those two for years now.

“He’s such a good-looking boy,” Oh god, your mother is still talking. “I’m surprised he hasn’t thought about settling down yet. Of course, how can he think about settling down without a stable career first – freelance photography was it?”

“Mom, it’s none of our business,” you mutter.

“Oh, I know,” she says quickly. “But I’d always thought he’d go places, you know? He did so well at one of the country’s best universities, got that amazing job right after. And now what? He quit it after all this time and that Jimin who only did community college is earning twice the amount Tae is!”

“Mom!” you snap. “Let. It. Go.” Your mother stares at you in disbelief, closing her mouth quickly, and thankfully shutting up. “I’m gonna go shovel the driveway,” you mutter, taking your apron off, and shoving it onto its usual hook by the pantry.

You’re just opening up the garage and grabbing the big purple shovel when you see Jungkook floundering through the snow towards your house.

“When did you get home?” You ask, forgetting about your mother for a second.

“Two days ago—look,” Jungkook’s face is serious. “We need to throw Taehyung a totally bitchin’ birthday party.”

“What?! Why?” You begin shoveling while Jungkook stands there. You’ve never thrown Taehyung a party before – usually that goes hand in hand with the annual New Year’s Eve bash and the two are celebrated together, even though Tae’s birthday is the day before.

“Because he’s been weird ever since he came home – he never says anything, but I know, alright?”

“What? He’s back?” You stop shoveling and stare at the younger man.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks, after hesitating. You bite your lip. You’ve always been the first to know whenever Taehyung decides to visit. “Is everything okay?” You sigh.

“Yes… I don’t know… probably not,” you groan. Jungkook blinks down at you, utterly clueless. “We…fooled around, alright?”

“When?!” Jungkook’s voice has gone up three octaves. “Oh, holy fuck.”

“Two years ago,” you hiss, motioning him to pipe down. “After that party at his house. We never spoke about it and I just assumed he wanted an easy fuck.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jungkook says and you wonder at his wording. “A blind idiot.”

“What?” you’re so confused. Jimin had mumbled something similar last year. Jungkook shakes his head, bits of snow falling off his beanie.

“Aside from that, I think the dude is just going through an overall rough time,” he says. “And no, it’s not because you two fucked. You in?”

“What—yeah fine,” you give in.

“Cool – then my house on the 30th. Bring your own booze. Wear something cute but comfortable.”

“Who else is coming?” You yell after him, watching Jungkook shuffling back down the street. He turns to look at you questioningly.

“It’s just us,” he says, surprise evident in his voice. “Who else?”

“Right.” You say, sighing inwardly.

That night, you run straight into Taehyung outside Jungkook’s door.

“Uh,” you say, wincing at yourself for sounding so horribly awkward. Taehyung stands in front of you, readying himself to knock on. You’d hoped to avoid him for a little bit longer but here you were, running into him right as you arrive. You grip your bottle of Merlot tightly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, raising an eyebrow at you. Taehyung is intimidating – has always been. You vaguely remember a time when he didn’t scare you, when you were both young and Taehyung was this small scrawny kid with big eyes and a mop of hair. “How’ve you been?” He towers over you now, all broad shoulders and long legs.

“Good,” you clear your throat. “You?” A ghost of a smile flits across his features.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard,” he says, almost bitterly.

“That you quit your fancy job? Yeah, I heard.” Maybe it’s your offhanded tone that throws him off but he’s gawking down at you before chuckling to himself. “What?”

“Nothing,” his face breaks into a bigger smile. “Should’ve known that you of all people wouldn’t give a shit if I quit my job or not,” You’re rushing to correct him that that was not how you intended to come off but he’s grinning, raising a hand to stop you. “No, it’s a good thing. I’m sick of people pitying me for something that was so obviously the correct decision.”

“Pity, huh?” you grin back at that. “Do they give you the sad head-tilt too?” You tilt your head mockingly to the side to demonstrate.

“Oh my god yes,” he snorts. “I’ve been getting those all week.”

“Welcome to the world of failures Kim,” you grin, holding out your hand in an honorary handshake. “We hate it here, but at least the expectations are now at a rock bottom. You can only go up from here.” Taehyung is about to reach for your hand when the door opens.

“Can you two quit flirting out here and come in?” Jungkook is indignant, holding a bottle of beer in each hand. Taehyung gives you a look you can’t quite decipher before heading in. You follow in after him, setting your wine down on Jungkook’s kitchen island. His apartment is small – only one bedroom – but it’s so Jungkook that you smile.

You hug Jieun as she comes out of their shared bedroom before moving on to join Jimin in the kitchen. Jieun is hugging Taehyung, wishing him a Happy Birthday. You watch them as you open your wine and reach for a glass from one of Jungkook’s cabinets.

“Not drinking tonight?” you ask Jimin. He’s dyed his hair blonde and it curls slightly. You think you like this look on him.

“I drove here,” he says easily. “What about you?”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grin. Taehyung comes up to dump the cheesecake you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding earlier on the counter. “Want me to put that in the fridge?” You address him.

“Yes please,”

“Not drinking tonight Tae?” Jimin throws your question at the dark-haired boy, as you shove the cake into Jungkook’s fridge. Taehyung’s eyes quickly glance at you before he speaks up

“I drove here,” he mutters and Jimin snorts.

“It’s your birthday party and you’re gonna stay stone cold sober? That’s sad man. Not to mention you brought your own cake,” he says, chin resting on his hand as he leans on the counter. Taehyung shrugs.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask and Jimin motions towards the living room where Jungkook and Yoongi are deeply immersed in what looks like Super Smash Bros Brawl. Judging by the way Yoongi is yelling, you assume he’s already tipsy. Taehyung comes up behind the counter to stand next to you to observe their game. You’re only faintly wary of his presence next to you as you sip on your drink. You don’t even realize Jimin has left the two of you to yourselves to go join Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, still staring at the TV. If Taehyung is surprised at your question, he doesn’t show it. “Your job, I mean.”

“It’s not what I went to school for,” he answers, hands in his pockets. “It became less about the art and more about kissing the asses of big corporations so they would fund us. I took the job because it paid well but at what cost?”

“Yeah, I understand,” you say softly. Taehyung looks at you.

“I know you do,” He says after a while, and your heart blooms at the honest faith in his voice. “My parents are disappointed. They don’t say it out loud, but I know they are. They think I’m going through something when the truth is that I know exactly what I want to do.”

“And that is?” you’re looking at him now and things suddenly fall into place. It’s as though the last few years never happened, that there was never a distance between the two of you. It reminds you of a different time – a time when you and Taehyung would tell each other everything even if you didn’t see him every day.

“Photography,” he answers. “My own studio. Maybe even sell my work – I don’t know. Just me, and art.” You smile.

“That sounds nice,” you say. “You know, Jungkook threw this party thinking you’re going through a quarter-life crisis,” Taehyung snorts at that and you can’t help but giggle along. “I wanted to tell him that he was crazy, but I didn’t have the heart to.” Taehyung is looking at you, questions evident on his face. “Call me crazy, I don’t know, but there has never been a day where you’ve been lost in your life. You’ve always known what you want, and you’ve made sure you get it,” You look down at your wine. The words unlike me are at the tip of your tongue but you don’t voice them. You know what—who you want, but you’re a coward.

You weren’t lying. Taehyung had always been ambitious – a go-getter. If he wanted you, he would’ve made it clear. The realization is heart-breaking.

Taehyung doesn’t reply to your statement, and only hums in response.

The night gets rowdier after that – Jungkook and Yoongi are a deadly combination when drunk and you’ve made it through your bottle of wine by yourself so you’re not doing too badly either.

Jimin and Yoongi leave first – Jimin basically dragging the older boy out. You’re scrolling through the train schedule when you notice Taehyung come up to you.

“I’ll drop you off,” he says. “You’re on the way to my parents house anyway.” You can only nod at that before he’s helping you stand up. The two of you bid a goodbye to Jieun (Jungkook has long since been put to bed and she’s collecting the myriad of beer bottles for recycling), and before you know it, you’re comfortably seated in Taehyung’s car.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place,” he says at last, sounding only slightly guilty. You laugh and tell him your address and watch as he plugs it into the car’s GPS system. You had moved out only last year, finally in a place to be able to afford. The two of you drive in silence, with you watching Taehyung.

He’s wearing a dark button down, tucked into equally dark jeans, hair falling over his forehead. Rings adorn his fingers that are gripping the steering wheel, and you swallow as you eye his thighs in those pants.

The wine was a bad idea.

“Something on my face?” he asks lightly, eyes still on the road. You start in your seat. The wine has lowered your inhibitions considerably.

“No, just admiring how pretty you are,” you say and Taehyung chokes on air. “Did you know you’re pretty? You always have been,”

“Is that so?” There’s a wry smile on Taehyung’s face. You prop your elbow up on his window, chin resting in your hand as you look outside.

“Yeah, since the fucking beginning,” you snort. “Even when you were scrawny and twelve, you were this pretty little thing. Next to you I looked like a drowned rat.”

Taehyung scoffs, running one hand through his hair, pushing it back.

“The day you wake up and realize your self-worth,” he mutters. “You’re far too intelligent and beautiful to belittle yourself like this,” You freeze and turn to look at him. “What? I’m telling you a truth. Stop undermining yourself – you’ve done it all your life.”

“Do you want me to pull up photos from that one trip our families took in 2010? Your puberty kicked in and turned you into a teenage model. My puberty kicked in and I looked like Phineas and Ferb’s long lost sibling.”

“Chat shit all you want, but Jungkook and I spent that trip sneaking glances of you in that bathing suit.”

“You two did what?”

“And I told Jungkook to back off,” Taehyung says it so easily. He pulls up in front of your building and turns off the car. The two of you sit there in silence. “Do you know how hard it is for me to control myself around you?”

You’re dimly aware that Taehyung hasn’t had a single sip of alcohol tonight – that he’s completely himself.

“Then why are you controlling yourself?” you whisper. Taehyung gives you another one of his wry smiles, this one rather sad.

“Because you’ve never seen me the way I’ve seen you,” he says, voice just as hushed. “And for a while, I didn’t mind. It was just a little crush – and I only saw you once or twice in a year so how could it mean anything? I had an entire life outside of you that you weren’t even a part of. So how could any of this be real?” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“But then… That Night happened,” and you know what he’s talking about. “And I thought ‘finally’ and once I’d had a taste, I wanted to keep coming back for more.” He looks up at you now, eyes distant. “And because you never brought it up again, I just thought that it didn’t mean anything—”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, heart racing so fast you can hear it thrum through your ears. “I thought you wanted nothing more.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he whispers. “When I never heard from you, I tried to move on—I had to move on, y’know? And this year I told myself that when I saw you, I’d be content with being your friend. I know I’ve been distant these past few years, but I needed that time to pick myself up—it was too hard to see you and know nothing could come of it.”

“Wait wait wait,” you wave your hands in front of your face, eyes tightly shut. “B-but you never mentioned that night again! I-I just assumed it was a one-night thing!” Taehyung blinks.

“A guy would have to be completely blind to only want you for one night,” he says quietly, and your heart soars. He’s reaching over for you and you shyly intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” you whisper, tracing patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb. “Because I’m stupid and I won’t believe it until I’ve heard it—”

But Taehyung is reaching over to your seat and pressing his lips to yours. You’ve missed this taste and you reciprocate almost instantly. He tastes like the strawberries that were topped on his birthday cake and you lean into the kiss, sighing in pleasure.

Before you know it, he’s undoing your seatbelt and pulling you over to his side. It’s uncomfortable and you almost ram your head against the rear-view mirror, but eventually you find yourself comfortably straddling his lap, back to the steering wheel. Taehyung’s large hands span the width of your back as he holds you in place.

“I think I like you,” he says. You smile down at him, running a hand along his cheekbone, jaw, finally resting it on his shoulder.

“I think I like you too,” you say back. You lean down to capture his lips in yours one more time and this time he doesn’t hesitate in sliding his tongue into your mouth. You grasp at his shirt on his shoulders, while his hands travel down to rest on your thighs where they travel under the flowy dress you’re wearing, moving over your thighs and finally resting on your ass. You whimper into the kiss and Taehyung doesn’t miss the opportunity to explore more of your mouth.

It’s when you let yourself sit down on his lap completely that you feel it – the hardness in his pants. You gasp before straightening up, but he pushes you back down onto his crotch. You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen.

“T-Tae!” you’re gripping his shirt almost painfully right and he smirks up at you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers. “We’ve barely done anything except swap spit and I’m already so hard it hurts.” Your ears go warm at his dirty words and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. You squirm on top of him and he groans in pleasure. “Any more of you moving that cute little ass on top of me and I’m going to cream my pants right here and right now.”

His lips latch onto your exposed collarbone where the strap of your dress has slid off and he sucks a bruise there. Your hips are swirling on top of him of their own volition and Taehyung has to throw back his head to let out a deep moan of pleasure. You stare at him in wonder – he looks so beautiful like this, dark hair clinging to his forehead, eyes blown out, lips swollen – and at your complete mercy. You kiss up his neck, biting his earlobe, before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m soaked,” you say, blushing. Your hand reaches down to tease your clit and you whimper before bringing your slick fingers up to show him. “See?”

Like a man starved, Taehyung is wordlessly reaching over to take your fingers into his mouth, and you watch in awe as his tongue swirls around them, licking up your juices instantly. His gaze doesn’t leave you for even a second and you’re so mesmerized. When you kiss him again, you taste yourself on him.

“You’re gonna have to stop here,” he puts a hand on your thigh to halt your ministrations. “I’ll seriously cream my pants.”

“I’m okay with that,” you mutter, leaning in to kiss him again, but he pulls back, a sly smile on his face.

“No, I’d much rather cream your pussy,” his grin is so wolfish that you feel a new wave of juices flow through you.

“Lucky for us we’re at my place though isn’t it,” you smile against his mouth. He laughs, a low, comforting sound before opening the door. You climb off him and out onto the sidewalk and straighten your dress. Taehyung gets off after you, hair mussed (thanks to you), and shirt half unbuttoned (also thanks to you). He reaches for your hand, which you take with a smile. This time, there is no hesitation, no hidden meaning.

-Sometime in the (not-so) distant future-

“Will you hurry up?” You hiss at Jungkook, but he’s too busy brushing his hair to pay any attention to you. “We’re so gonna be late!”

“You’re trampling on my mojo,” Jungkook tells you, straightening his tie and staring at himself in the mirror. Taehyung is next to you, tapping his foot in impatience.

“Okay, Jeon, that’s enough, you are not going to be late for your own wedding.” He says, face impassive and Jungkook sighs.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll be right out – you two go take your positions. Tae – you got the rings?” Taehyung rolls his eyes and pats his front coat pocket pointedly. Jungkook grins, face guilty and Taehyung is opening his mouth, probably to tell Jungkook off once and for all.

You laugh, knowing this is your cue to interrupt the fight before it actually happens, and pull Taehyung away from his best friend and push him out of Jungkook’s dressing room.

“Let’s go – if he’s late that’s on him but I don’t want us to be late either and you’re in the wedding you need to be up there.” You push Taehyung towards the main church towards the altar.

“God,” Taehyung is grumbling. “Promise me, our day won’t be so anxiety inducing.”

“How can it be when you’re such a micromanager,” you smile. “I expect our day to run like a German train schedule.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and glances at a dainty ring on your left hand. He does that often, as if to reassure himself that this is the reality, that you’re here and present and beside him. It makes you unbearably fond. Because even now, years later, Kim Taehyung still can’t believe he has you.

“Honestly, we could do it at city hall and I wouldn’t mind,” Taehyung hums. “Without all these clowns present.”

“Fine,” you play along. “Wanna go this weekend?” You’re not expecting the raised eyebrow he gives you, or the coy answer that follows – but it does make your heart race in a way only Kim Taehyung has ever been capable of.

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung #tae #bts v #bts #bts fic

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hidiingplace · 3 years

Text

• @recordsstraight • cont. with Ella & Todd 🥰🥰🥰

Auctions weren't a place that Ella typically got her horses from, since she had a specific list of things necessary in a horse before she bought them. She had been there purely on the fact that there was a list of high end tack that was going to be auctioned off right before the horses were sold - and with some new items bought - Ella had no choice but to stick around as her Dad continued to chat ... he always had been the friendly type. She had caught Ella's attention from the moment she had stepped into the ring ... she wasn't anything spectacular to look at. Her coat was almost as dull and lifeless as her eyes were, various signs of grief from her previous owner passing away evident ...

And if Ella hadn't bought her, she would have went right to a kill box. But what Ella didnt' know, was that lifeless look in the mare's eyes wasn't entirely from grief ... but from being drugged into being docile.

With Mateo on his way to check her hooves, Ella had chosen to work her a bit, ensure that the mare was used to her hooves being handled. She had enough of a mindset to ensure somebody was there ... and with Alex and her Dad being out harvesting, it left Todd there, listening to him quipping jokes and chatting about his day, leaving Ella smiling some as she listened. Granted, she kept half her attention on the mare ... but being in a chair came with many disadvantages ... including being unable to move quickly.

Feeling the bite of the mare at her shoulder before she saw it happening, Ella yelled out in agony as white hot fire shot through her shoulder, the sound startling a mare coming from her drugged state. Attempting to use one hand to pull herself back, the mare's movements only served to knock Ella over backwards, an act that wound up saving her from being kicked on top of it as the mare spooked and shrieked.

Looking back, Ella knew she should have just let the mare go ... but her heart didn't agree. "Ouch ouch ouch ouch ... la perra estupida.." gritting the words out as Todd patched her up in her folks house a few minutes later, Ella still refused to look at the wound that was left over. Already the teeth marks were surrounded by a deep purple, a sight that indicated she had been bruised to the very bone.

"If I was lesser of a person, I'd send her right back to that auction..." it was her own fault though, and Ella knew it. She just wouldn't say it out loud ... not until at least Mateo got here and she had to explain it to him

Todd knew nothing about horses. His paternal grandparents owned a few horses, and aside from tormenting playing with them a little in the field he has no real experience. His father was not a fan, and wouldn’t even go near them. Todd didn’t really know why until a horse tried to kick him, and then he got the message. But Todd’s reckless nature and general lack of fear never stopped him from doing dangerous things, and he knew horses were dangerous by default –– especially because he couldn’t read them like Ella or her family could.

He tagged along the whole way through, not really asking many questions but watching things happen from a backseat. He was totally out of his element the whole time, and watching Ella and Mateo at work was some kind of poetry. Honestly, he knew Ella and Mateo were close, and he knew they worked together whenever she went to the Rodeos, but he’d never really seen him in action. It was weird, watching him move around the horse and play with their legs and feet. He must have been looking for something, but Todd hadn’t a clue, nor any real interest in horse feet to bother asking.

He was sat on a hay bale in the aisle when he saw the horse’s large mouth descend on Ella’s shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something –– give a warning maybe –– but he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening in the first place. Not until the chaos unfolded.

Getting her to the house was the easy part, keeping his own wild heart in control was another. He had a newfound fear and respect for horses now, and his heart leapt out of his chest with worry at the sight of it. He wouldn’t say he was traumatized from watching all that, but he sure was shaken.

Standing at Ella’s shoulder, he presses a cool cloth against her bruised, soon to be welted, shoulder. There’s spots of blood, tears in the skin that will no doubt make it hard to heal. It makes him grimace a little when he pulls the cloth away.

“So yer gonna keep ‘er?” Todd asks, folding the cloth so there was a fresher spot placed against her shoulder. He’s careful not to apply too much pressure as he lays his palm across the cloth and presses down just to make sure the cold actually reached her skin. He looks sideways at her, his chest still racing. He leans over, kissing the top of her head and letting the touch linger.

#( BABES )#todd rebane ( thread ).#todd rebane ( v. catch me if you can ).#todd rebane ( rel. ella reyez ).#recordsstraight

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

Text

Curiosity

Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi runs into an old friend yet again. Second chances don't come often so will he able to make a move before their time is up?

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers

The day had gone by quicker than Hajime Iwaizumi thought it would. It was now or never.

It all began last week, when he ran into Hiromi Miura, a friend from college, in a small Vietnamese restaurant in Ginza a month after he moved to Tokyo. As he lined up for a seat, he noticed the figure in front of him was familiar. He tapped her shoulder and waved. Hiromi was so surprised that it took her a moment to realize it was her old classmate.

“Iwa??” she said in disbelief.

They got a seat together to catch up. Normally, Hiromi would be nervous about have lunch with one other man, but she had been on so many failed dates lately that at least she knew lunch with Iwa would not end in disappointment.

“You’re eating here? This place must be legit huh?” he said, remembering that she worked for a food publication. She chuckled.

“Definitely has my seal of approval.”

The restaurant was small and Iwa was rather tall. He could feel his knees touching hers from time to time. She crossed her feet behind her chair so they didn’t have to apologize mid-conversation when they bumped into each other.

“I’ve been meaning to call you by the way. Do you know any good markets around where I live?” he pulled out his phone to show her the area where he was staying, “I’m not too familiar with the area yet, so you’ll have to tell me where is it on the map.”

Iwa lived almost at fringe of the city. His home was located not too far away by bike to one of Hiromi’s favorite wet markets. She took his phone a little more enthusiastically than he expected her to and pinned a location.

Hiromi loved showing people around her favorite food spots. If being a food guide was more lucrative, she would ditch her dayjob altogether.

“Here! There’s a wet market where I’m friendly with the stall owners right here.” she pointed, “It’s about a 15 minute bike ride away from your place. I can help you get good deals. Not too many tourists too.”

And that was how Iwa found himself inside a wet market with Hiromi, on an early Monday morning. On most mornings, Iwa liked to jog and not do chores, but Hiromi had been so enthusiastic about the market that he let himself get sucked in. He tried not to yawn as she waved at every other stall.

“Another market day for work? Did the production team ask for your help again?” tutted an old woman at a vegetable stand.

Did he really look that dressed down?

“No, I’m bringing a friend around, hopefully a soon to be regular. Yamagata-san, this is Iwaizumi. He just moved here.” she chuckled, gesturing at him. Iwa politely bowed and greeted her.

As Iwa picked out some vegetables, Hiromi continued to chat with the old woman, guiding him every now and then to a vegetable that looked fresher than what he had picked out.

“I thought he was a production boy., You know one of those boys that drives your company van and carries your stuff.” Yamagata-san commented good naturally, “Too handsome for a production boy.”

When Iwa was about to pay up, Hiromi disappeared over to the next stall. He sighed and made his way to the counter at the back. Behind the desk, he saw a simply framed black and white photo of Yamagata-san with a candid smile, reaching out to a customer. The background seemed to blur and the old woman was the star. Next to that was a smaller photo of Yamagata-san and…Hiromi.

Was Hiromi some sort of MVP for this stall or something?

“Miura-chan took that photo of me,” said Yamagata-san, taking notice of Iwa, “I told her that I didn’t need such a big photo of myself so I insisted on having one with her.”

“What was the photo for?” he asked, peering again at the two photos.

“She ran an article on the oldest stalls of the market saying we were the heart of the community or something like that. When the story came out, she even gave us a glossy magazine that had my picture on it. She made us sound big and important. She was really grateful that we let her talk about us so she gave us a framed photo of ourselves to remember her milestone by. It was her big solo article I think.”

After hopping from one store to another, sometimes to say hi and others to buy produce from, they settled in for early lunch at yakitori or grill restaurant. The sun was high in the sky. While waiting to be seated, Hiromi bought cool green tea for the both of them.

“This is so good! Damn!” he sighed in pleasure. The drink relieved the sweat gathering at his back. Hiromi grinned in satisfaction.

“Iwa can I ask you something?” she tilted her head towards him.

“Shoot.” Suddenly he felt unnerved and tense. What could this be about? He bit down on the tip of the straw.

Her eyes were with amusement, “Did you not notice that the fruit vendor was making eyes at you?? She’s totally into you and I tried to wingman for, but you just shrugged and paid up.”

“Wait, for real?” he asked, taken aback by his lack of self-awareness.

Hiromi nodded her head vigorously, “That was cold!’

He slapped his hands on his forehead, “Well, I wasn’t really interested in her anyways.” he sighed, his eyes flicking towards her before looking away.

Hiromi recalled a time in college, when a circle of their friends were having lunch together. One of the girls that had a crush on Iwa tried to make a pass at him.

“I would date you if I could, Hajime-kun,” she blushed. Everybody’s eyes turned to Iwaizumi who continued eating and only stopped because someone had nudged him.

“Thanks, I’m flattered,” he nodded. It had taken him weeks to realize that she was trying to confess to him.

“Do you remember that time in colle-“ she began but was interrupted. He was cringing as he remembered the same memory.

“Don’t bring up that lunch incident, Hiromi. I know you’re going to. Just NO.” he groaned, “I get it! I’m dense.”

Hiromi was trying to restrain her laughter. He could hear her stifle her giggle beside him. She tried not to look at him. He straightened up beside her and nudged her knee with his.

“I wasn’t interested in her anyways.” he said, thoughtfully looking at her.

“Clearly not,” she snorted, browsing through the menu, “You should see what you want to eat before they seat us.”

He placed his hand a little bit behind her and peered over her shoulder. He could feel her arm pressed against his chest. They were seated so closely his nose almost touched the side of her head. She remained oblivious to him.

After they were seated, Iwaizumi finally brought up what he had been noticing.

“How does everyone here have a photo by and with you?” he asked, “Are the photos really required by your work?”

Hiromi looked a little embarrassed. She cleared her throat and sighed, “People like to take. They take stories and never give the people they take from. They take their food and their ideas, which is really not fair.

“It took me a while to earn the trust of the community here but once I gave them a copy of their story, it made them realize I was sincere about wanting to give back to them. The black and white framed photos, that was on me. We had some budget left so I got them their own photos because they’re important even if their job is not glamorous.”

“You’re really passionate about your job huh?” he said. The food had just arrived and they began to rearrange their bowls and plates on the table.

“It’s not my job I’m passionate about, it’s people and their stories. I’m just lucky enough to be paid enough to do this.” she smiled.

“Don’t you feel the same way about your job?” she asked, “You like volleyball so much you turned it into a profession.”

“I do, but I’ve just started in my new job. Passion takes time if not at least a little bit more experience. Maybe by next year, I can feel the same way about my work.”

———————————————————————————

“Thanks for bringing me here.” he said as he loaded up his bike with his morning purchases.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said. Iwaizumi had paid while she was at the restroom to thank her for introducing him to her community market.

Urgency prodded at his back. It was now or never. As she handed him some of his packaged vegetables, he hastily turned to her.

“Can I see you again next week?” he said it so quickly, he wasn’t sure she fully understood him.

“Oh, do you want to try a different market?” she asked, carefully taking out the strawberries from her bag and transferring it to his bag.

“No, no this market looks great —“

“I know right! It’s not the best or most comprehensive market, but it’s a good market if you’re looking to build a community with.” she beamed with pride.

Iwa straightened his back and cleared his throat, “No, like a date.”

She paused and stood to meet his eye. “Oh…I guess this is why you weren’t interested in the vendor huh. I really thought she would be your type! She even plays volleyball.” She looked away while slowly recalling signs from earlier today: the knee nudge, the lunch, his lack of interest in other women in the market.

Iwa could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He forgot how nerve-wracking it was to ask someone out. Sweat was pooling around his temples just standing there.

“Ahh not really, I am actually interested…in you. I thought you might like me too, that’s why you agreed to go out with me today…y’know to test the waters…” he stuttered, “but..ah…turns out you just really like markets. I realized that I should have been more forward.”

Hiromi was simultaneously flattered, mortified and a little confused. She kept quiet. In the back of her mind, she entertained the thought that maybe this was an unofficial date, but she had convinced herself that Iwa was invested in buying cheaper fresher produce.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to. You look uncomfortable,” he said, waving his hands side to side, breaking her out of her reverie, “We can pretend like this never happened.”

She hesitantly replied, “Well, I’m on the weekend and my hours are flexible on Thursday because it’s a reading day for me…” She was praying in her heart that she got her schedule right.

Her reply caught Iwa off guard. Nevertheless, he jumped to the chance to spend a day next week with her.

“That’s great! I’m away next weekend, but Thursday sounds great.” he smiled, looking hopeful, “Let’s meet then?”

“I know it’s kinda early, but I think I have to put it out there that my schedule’s really erratic some days. That’s kind of put some people off.” he shrugged. His schedule was one of his occupational hazards.

“We’re out on a Monday, I think I’m aware.“ she nodded. Although outwardly calm, she was ready to faint. She couldn’t wait to tell Itsumi that she had a date with a seemingly decent guy?

“Oh and Iwa?” her face schooled itself into a more serious expression as he gave her his full attention, “It’s non-negotiable for me. If you want to insist on being able to date other people, I’ll have to cancel next week.”

“I had a small spat with this guy I was dating and I…walked in on second date while he was making out with someone.” she gritted her teeth, heaving a sigh.

“Ok, I won’t see anybody else while we’re seeing each other. Deal?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not very good at dating. I haven’t been in a good relationships in awhile. I’m gonna need your patience.” she said softly, turning to him, her eyes wary.

“I’m kind of aware.” he nodded, “I’ll make the most of the time you can give me.”

When she left she felt dumbfounded. She had recently sworn off dating and now she was on another date?

“Itsumi, you’ll never guess what just happened!” she called up her coworker.

----------------------------------------------------------

This is part 2 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. If you’d like to keep up with the next chapters (which will include questions to help them fall in love *hint hint*), comment or message!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Series taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

#iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #hq iwaizumi #hq iwa #hq fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #hq fandom #aobai josahi #timeskip iwa #hajime iwaizumi 27 #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi x you

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missusk · 3 years

Photo

Rolling With the Punches (Raihan x OC x Leon) Commissioned by @poneshyay Commission info

~~ “Fritter, move,” Aminia huffed in exasperation, again nudging at the Appletun lounging in the middle of the walkway behind the counter. “I can’t risk dropping another dozen rolls.”

The Appletun let out a lackadaisical yawn as he bumbled to the other side of the walkway, though his large abdomen only left room for maybe a foot of space. Aminia rolled her eyes and stepped over her lazy Pokémon, careful not to drop the freshly baked rolls. As she set them into the glass case, she wondered that may have been Fritter’s plan all along – to get a free roll by tripping his Trainer and causing them to rain down from the platter. The woman chuckled to herself, pat Fritter on the head, then stepped into the back room to continue her work.

It was an early morning at the Biscuit and Fritter bakery, though the owner didn’t mind too much. The time before opening gave Aminia space to efficiently prepare for the day, and she was absorbed in her tasks until the front door opening caught her attention.

“I’ll be right with you!” she called from the back. The greeting was just a formality, seeing as she could count on three fingers who had a key to her bakery, and she was one of them.

“No need, Mini,” came a familiar voice, and Aminia smiled at the sound when she poked her head out.

“Hi Rai,” she said. “Give me maybe 5 more minutes? I can chat for a little bit before the shop opens.”

Raihan nodded and pulled out his phone, content to wait for his girlfriend to finish her opening duties. He did pluck Fritter off the ground though, since the Appletun was doing a great job of extending the shop-opening process. Fritter was happily snoozing on Raihan’s lap when Aminia stepped out - it was certainly a cute sight, but what really caught her attention was Raihan’s face. It was stoic with a cold anger, his eyes wide and mouth in a straight line – certainly not what she was expecting from her usually cheerful boyfriend.

“Rai?” she started as she rushed over. Raihan was still looking at his phone. “What is it, are you okay?”

Raihan didn’t speak, but instead held out his phone. There was a news article on the screen, its title in big bold letters:

CHAMPION LEON’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP?

Aminia’s heart dropped. What was just a warm and cozy morning smelling of fresh bread and sweet frosting was now suddenly dark, dank, and filled with dread. The three of them had successfully kept their relationship secret for this long, how on earth did someone find out? Raihan answered the unspoken question by rewinding the article’s accompanying video.

“Leon, Mr. Leon!” came a reporter’s tinny voice from the screen. “You’ve been invited to collaborate with Kalos’ Pokémon League – why?”

“The details are still in the works,” came Leon’s ever-friendly response, even to pestering paparazzi, as he waved to fans crowding around him. Something seemed off about him… his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his shoulders seemed stiff. While his cheerful tone could convince almost anybody, Aminia was not so easily fooled. She knew her boyfriend well, and for whatever reason, he was not liking the attention this time around…

“Is it because of a secret relationship with Champion Diantha?” the reporter pressed. “Are you visiting Kalos just to spend time with your girlfriend?”

“Aminia doesn’t live in Kalos, she’s got her bakery here,” Leon said absentmindedly as he tried to make his way through the crow. He stopped mid-track when gasps erupted around him.

“Who is Aminia?”

“Mr. Leon, is Aminia your girlfriend?”

“Leon! Champion Leon, are you in a relationship?”

“Leon!”

Leon quickly regained his composure, flashing a grin to the crowds. “I’ve got to get going, but more details about the collaboration are soon to come! We’ll definitely have a champion time, though!”

The frame froze, and Aminia and Raihan locked eyes. The only sound in the bakery was Fritter’s soft snores as the two processed what they both witnessed. Raihan was the first to react. He slammed his fist on the table, causing Fritter to leap off his lap in shock.

“Ugh!” he spat, standing from the table and pacing around the empty bakery. “It’s that rubbish reporter again! She always knows just what to say and when to say it to get everyone to spill their guts on accident!”

“What?” Aminia asked, standing as well. “What reporter? Rai, what are you talking about?”

Raihan stopped pacing. His eyes flicked around the bakery, never once meeting Aminia’s, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t until she gently took his hand that Raihan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“There’s been news about me having a girlfriend too,” Raihan mumbled defeatedly. “Same broad, she’s a nosy thing. That same reporter cornered me after an exhibition match when I was distracted, I let it slip I was going to my girlfriend’s place after.”

“When was this?” she asked. “And when was that video?”

“…Both were yesterday,” Raihan confessed, and Aminia let out a groan. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I know you don’t want the attention from the press. I tried to play it cool, but it turned out just as bad as Leon’s.”

After a few seconds and a deep sigh, Aminia regained her composure.

“Okay, that’s fine,” she said, slowly finding the light in the darkness. “This won’t be so bad. You just mentioned you had a girlfriend, and, well, Lee said my name and profession, but that doesn’t mean everything is ruined! Maybe no one will put the pieces together.”

Raihan’s scowl slowly shifted back into a smile, and after a roll of the eyes, he stepped over to pull Aminia into a hug. His chuckle rumbled through her, and he gave her another squeeze.

“I love you,” he said through a laugh. “Always so positive.”

Aminia squeezed Raihan in return, reveling in the feeling of her boyfriend’s arms. She let herself be held for a moment, before offering another squeeze then heading back to wipe off the front counter before opening.

Maybe it really would be fine. Yeah, some people knew her and her bakery, but who listens to news stories like that, anyway? It wasn’t even news, just tabloid rubbish. People always wondered if Leon and Raihan had partners, being that they were the most attractive bachelors in Galar, so this wasn’t really anything new, right? Minus the part where Raihan confirmed he had a girlfriend, and the part where Leon shared her name and profession…

“So, is anyone else here?” Raihan asked, his voice tearing Aminia from her thoughts.

“Not yet,” Aminia replied. “The morning staff don’t come in yet.”

She didn’t pay the question much mind, until she felt something pressing against her back. She turned to see Raihan’s tall frame hovering over her, quickly bringing a blush to her cheeks when her eyes met the mischievous glint in Raihan’s. He was biting his lip suggestively, then leaning in, only for Aminia to turn.

“Rai,” Aminia mumbled as her cheeks flushed. “I’m on the clock.”

“You run the shop,” Raihan purred, whispering against her cheek. “Why don’t we take a quick break in the back?”

“Raihan,” Aminia said more sternly. When he offered her a puppy-dog pout, she let out a laugh, rolled her eyes, gave him a chaste kiss, then froze when a flash erupted from the front of the shop.

They both whipped their heads to the source of the light, only to see a retreating reporter kicking up dust as she sprinted away. Aminia’s blood turned cold as the bakery yet again fell silent.

“Shit,” Raihan grunted.

“Yeah,” Aminia agreed before letting out a defeated sigh.

“Maybe… it’ll be fine?” Raihan offered, though neither of them believed that. Their attention turned to a noise in the back of the shop.

“Rai, Aminia!” came Leon’s voice from the back entrance. “You in here?”

“Unfortunately,” Raihan called. They both quickly hid away in the back of the bakery, where a frazzled Leon was waiting for them.

“I take it you saw my slip up?” Leon asked guiltily, eyes flicking between the two.

“Not your fault,” Raihan replied quickly. “That reporter gets the best of anyone she talks to.”

“I’m sorry,” Leon said, stepping forward to give Aminia a hug. “Maybe no one will put the pieces together?”

“I said the same thing,” Aminia chuckled. “But looks like that same reporter followed you here. How long do you think it’ll be until-“

Aminia’s sentence was interrupted by a pounding on the front door. The three inconspicuously peeked their heads out of the back room, only for all their jaws to drop. Outside the glass doors stood a crowd of people, all peering in, standing on their toes, each trying to get a glimpse of the no-longer-as-mysterious girlfriend of Champion Leon and Gym Leader Raihan.

“My guess is not long,” Leon sighed.

“So, shall I start making more rolls?” Raihan asked suddenly. “Looks like you have quite a few new customers.”

“I can frost the cookies,” Leon offered, immediately catching onto Raihan’s offer. “I’ve always wanted to use one of those frosting squeezer things.”

Aminia’s gaze flicked between her two boyfriend’s. While this wasn’t exactly how she was planning to start another day of business, their eager faces reminded her yet again of why she fell in love with the two. Her lips tugged into a smile, then she stepped up to offer both a kiss. After tying her apron securely, she stepped back, filled with a new confidence because of the men beside her.

“Let’s roll.”

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minimitchell · 4 years

Text

callumhighwayweek day 4 - “you’re not jealous, are you?” (ao3 link)

Callum likes working at ‘Roasted’. It’s a nice enough job, the pay is better than with most student jobs around here and he meets lots of interesting people. Granted, a lot of them are kind of snobby and definitely a lot more of the hipster variety than what he’s used to, coming from the East End and all, but it is a fun job.

And it’s not like he’s going to be here forever.

He started working at the coffee shop in his second year of Uni, having seen their job listing for a barista on Instagram of all places. It’s pretty on par for the shop though. The owners, an older, alternative couple he’s only met a handful of times, are living in Bali for the better part of the year and the coffee shop is mostly being managed by their daughter. She’s laid back and funny and a really great boss.

And Callum has learned a lot in the last year and a half he’s been working here. He’d only done bar work in the past, pulling pints and washing dirty glasses, but he genuinely likes being a barista. He feels good whenever he remembers an order from someone who comes in regularly, he likes seeing their faces when they discover some new latte art he practiced and he doesn’t even mind serving teen girls for the sole purpose of them taking a picture with their names on their cups afterwards.

He likes it because he likes making people feel good, even if it’s just with a coffee, and he likes putting a little smile on their faces - and it also doesn’t hurt that he gets free drinks and free cake samples all day long.

“And a wonderful day to my favorite colleague as well.”

Oh yeah, there’s also Ben.

Ben had started two months before Callum even got the job here but by the time Callum had completed his training, Ben was already working like a seasoned pro.

He’s also in his last year at Uni, but he’s in a completely different department than Callum is. He’s a business major, spending most of his time across campus from Callum, who’s studying social work. On paper, they shouldn’t really get along considering their wildly different interests and plans for their future jobs, but they immediately clicked.

At one point during a quiet shift they got talking about their aspirations and Ben had told him he’s planning to take over his dad’s businesses when he’s done with Uni and maybe even expand them further. Callum thinks Ben can easily do that; he’s dead smart.

He’s also devastatingly handsome, as Callum noticed the very first time they met. Ben has these captivating blue eyes and an easy, welcoming smirk on his face at all times. He’s definitely a people person, able to make easy chit chat with just about anyone that comes in. He has this aura of confidence and assurance around him but it doesn’t make him come across as arrogant, not at all.

They spend most of their shifts together talking or teasing one another when they aren’t swamped with work. Ben likes to try almost every cake they’re offering that day, feeding little bites to Callum when he deems it ‘worthy enough for him’ and Callum likes to use Ben as a guinea pig for his latte art, trying out new designs or perfecting his existing one’s.

And when business is slow or when they’re about ready to close up in the evening, they get to talk with one another. What started with them talking about their degrees and course work quickly moved onto deeper and more substantial topics.

Callum talks about being the first person in his family to go to Uni and the pressure he feels on himself because of that. He tells Ben about his desire to make a difference in the world, to help children who come from the same rough parts as himself. Ben on the other hand talks about his family a lot, about the need to prove himself in a big family you otherwise get lost in, about the feeling that he needs to compensate for his dad’s disapproval.

Disapproval stemming from the fact that he’s gay.

Yeah, he told Callum about that as well. It was a small revelation to him and Callum couldn’t help but tell him it’s the same for him. It feels like a new, deeper, level to their friendship.

It’s also the full source of Callum’s misery.

Because before this revelation, Callum could accept that the little infatuation he’s developed for Ben was entirely for nought. He was under no impression that this crush was ever going to be reciprocated because, to be completely honest, Callum had just assumed that Ben’s straight.

But since he knows that this isn’t the case at all, it almost feels like his crush has doubled or tripled in size; like maybe it has grown even more because there’s now this tiny, traitorous voice whispering that there might be a chance for them. Assuming he’d ever actually have the courage to ask Ben out.

He hasn’t so far; every time he even thinks about asking Ben to go out with him he chickens out in the end, afraid that Ben will laugh at him. Or even worse, that he’ll never want to work with him ever again. Because while he does like working here, he likes it even better when he’s working alongside Ben.

“How did your exam go?”

Ben joins him behind the counter, going to wash his hands before he starts taking over for Callum behind the till. He’s wearing a black polo underneath his burgundy apron and his hair is nicely tousled; Callum is itching to run his hands through it.

“Aced it. Hopefully.”

He pulls a face, trying to play it cool even though they both know Ben understands Advanced Marketing better than most people in his course. Callum didn’t expect anything less than an ace from Ben.

“‘Course you did.”

Ben sends him a wink, strolling over to the display counter and observing what they have on offer today. There’s a fresh carrot cake there Callum’s dying to share with Ben later. He steps next to Callum behind the till, logging in with his cashier number once Callum signs off and the way he rests his hand on Callum’s lower back while doing so, makes his heart throb in his chest, hammering all the way up into his throat.

Maybe today is the day he finally has the guts to ask Ben out on a date.

The shop gets busy shortly after Ben gets here and they don’t even really have time to get a breath in-between all the coffee and cake orders they have to prepare. It’s a fairly small shop and only two people are always scheduled to work on weekdays so they’re busy until the midday and after-work rushes are over.

Callum saves the last piece of carrot cake for Ben - even though their manager always yells at them for not giving everything to the paying customers - and Callum is just about to get it from the stock room to surprise Ben with it when this guy leans on the counter in front of the till.

He’s seen him before a couple times - tall caramel latte, Callum thinks. He doesn’t look much older than him and Ben, probably a fellow student, and Callum doesn’t like him for the sole reason that he always flirts with Ben when he comes in, trying to make him laugh or smile bashfully at the ground.

Callum hates even more that it works most of the time.

It’s no different this time. The guy says something that makes Ben laugh, making a show of dropping a five pound note into their tip jar after he’s paid just so Ben can see him do it and leers after him when Ben goes to make the drink for him.

He leaves with a wink in Ben’s direction afterwards and Callum eats the whole piece of carrot cake by himself in the stock room as some weird form of silent protest.

They don’t always work together.

Ben has a lot of afternoon classes and works late or mornings, whereas Callum is almost exclusively at Uni in the mornings and comes into work afterwards. So yeah, sometimes their shifts don’t line up. And then some other times, it’s just bad luck.

Callum tries not to sulk when he hears that Ben called in sick today. He knows it’s probably nothing too bad but they’re advised to stay home at any possible sign of illness regardless, for hygienic reasons and all that.

He likes working with Keegan, who came in for Ben today, as well but he was really looking forward to seeing Ben.

It sounds dramatic but the day drags on and on without Ben here, cracking jokes and making Callum weird drink combinations to try. Callum thinks it can’t get any worse but at close to five a very familiar face walks through the door.

It’s the guy who always flirts with Ben and Callum watches from behind the counter as he scans the area, looking around to see if he can spot Ben presumably. Callum almost feels bad for the devilish glee coursing through him at the knowledge that he won’t be successful today.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

Callum is trying hard to stay composed and give at least the impression that he’s being friendly. The guy gives him a barely-there smile, obviously not very interested in making a good impression on anyone other than Ben.

“I was wondering if Ben is working today?”

“Sorry, I can’t give out that kind of information.”

He tries not to revel in the eye roll the guy gives him but it’s hard not to. Yes, it’s incredibly petty but Callum can’t help it, he’d rather work the morning shift every day for a whole month than see Ben go out with this cocky prick.

The guy heaves a sigh and gives his order - one tall caramel latte just like Callum thought it was - and Callum punches it in for Keegan to prepare. Callum tells the guy his total and waits until he presses his card against the reader, nodding when the transaction goes through.

Callum thinks he’s about to put money in the tip jar but instead, the guy fishes a white business card out of his trouser pocket and slides it across the counter towards Callum.

“Can you give this to Ben? My number is on the back.”

He doesn’t wait for Callum to take it or even agree, moving along the counter to get his drink from Keegan. Callum tries not to openly show his annoyance at the bloke, grabbing the card and stuffing it into the pocket of his apron.

Over the next few hours he forgets all about the little piece of paper still hiding in the fabric of his apron. He’s cleaning the appliances, waiting for Keegan to be done with mopping the floor so they can close up for the day, when he realizes the business card is still in his possession.

He pulls it out of his pocket, looking at the bland text written across it in bold letters. Which student even carries a business card around with them? Even his name is obnoxious - Tristan, ugh. He doesn’t even feel bad when he, completely accidentally of course, lets the card fall, watching it sink to the bottom of the trash bag and getting covered by the old coffee grounds a moment later.

Oops.

Callum forgets all about Tristan and his stupid little business card, mostly because his next two shifts are spend with Ben again. To be completely honest, Callum could probably forget anything else around him exists whenever he’s in a room with Ben; it’s gotten that bad for him.

He’s completely determined to ask Ben out today, spurred on by the all of a sudden very real chance that someone else might get there before he can, and he doesn’t want to risk that. He’s been in love with the guy for close to a year now, he won’t waste another day.

Callum is in the back room, restocking the cups and lids before the evening rush begins when he hears Ben laughing at something behind the counter. He pokes his head through the door to see what’s so funny, but he doesn’t feel like laughing at all when he sees bloody Tristan standing there, arrogantly smiling at Ben.

He’s too busy seething at the fact he probably missed his chance with Ben now, can already see Ben accepting the number and going on dates and probably falling head over heels for this stupid guy, to remember he chucked the guy’s number in the bin. The one, he’s apparently asking about judging by Ben’s confused face and slight head tilt.

The distance between the stock room and the till is too great to make out any coherent words so he doesn’t know what Ben is saying in return, but it’s pretty clear this Tristan guy will throw him under the bus any moment now. God, how is he going to explain this to Ben when he inevitably asks why Callum didn’t forward the guy’s number? This is so not how he wanted this to go today; he could cry at the thought alone.

Ben turns his head to look in his direction and Callum has to duck back into the room in a flash, praying that Ben didn’t see him spying on his conversation just now.

He isn’t exactly proud of hiding in here afterwards, waiting for Tristan to leave and just staring at the different sized lids and brown paper cups with their logo emblazoned on the side. It’s definitely the most cowardly thing to do but Callum honestly feels like crying right now. He can’t bear to hear the guy he’s so stupidly in love with talk about going out with someone else; he just can’t do it.

It hurts knowing he’s never going to get the chance to make Ben see how perfect they could be for each other. Because he just knows he could make him so, so happy; Callum’s sure of that. He feels it deep in his chest, right where his heart is slowly twisting and turning.

“So, uh, you got something you wanna give me?”

The sudden shock at hearing Ben’s voice right behind him makes Callum flail his arms around, knocking over a whole stack of lids and sending them cluttering to the ground right in front of Ben’s shoes. He doesn’t really know what to say, whether he should admit he’s thrown the number away in a fit of pure jealousy or not, and the conflict must show on his face because Ben immediately takes pity on him.

“I told him we hadn’t seen each other since then so you didn’t have the chance to give it to me.”

“Thanks.”

The ground seems much more interesting to him than Ben’s expectant face right now and he’s scuffing his shoe along one of the many stains littering the light grey linoleum. Ben tries to catch his eyes, leaning down to enter Callum’s eyesight.

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t?”

Callum remains silent, only giving Ben a slight shrug in response to his question. Ben waits him out though, leaning against the doorframe until Callum finally sighs and meets Ben’s eyes. Time to get it out, he reckons.

He’s about to confess, to lay his feelings bare, when Ben preempts him.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

His voice is light and joking but there’s an undertone to it. Something that sounds almost daring and hopeful; like the prospect of Callum being jealous of someone wanting to ask him out doesn’t annoy Ben but that he’s actually maybe hoping it’s true.

The thought makes Callum pause, taking in the slight smile on Ben’s face and the bright sparkle in his eyes. It makes him brave enough to finally admit his feelings, to finally take that plunge into the unknown, uncertain.

“I was working up the courage to ask you out for weeks now, months even.”

Ben’s smile stretches out across his face, transforming his face into something even more beautiful than normal. He takes a step towards Callum, tangling his hands around the straps of Callum’s apron, pulling him further into his own body.

“So ask me.”

Ben is smiling up at him, his fingers running up and down the skin underneath the straps and he feels the touch burn through his shirt. He looks loved up for lack of a better term and Callum has the brief thought that they could’ve spent so much time being with each other already, but it doesn’t really matter now. They got there anyway.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Ben pulls him down against him, sealing their lips together in a careful kiss. It’s the most perfect thing Callum’s ever tasted, ever felt in his entire life. His hands settle on both sides of Ben’s face, guiding him back onto his lips again and again and again. Until their lips are red and puffy and customers are yelling to be served.

They get fired two weeks later for spending a little too much time in the stock room.

It’s worth it.

#chweek2021 #callumhighwayweek2021 #ballum fic #my writing #yes i watched too much love victor and wrote a coffee shop au sue me

28 notes · View notes

mcheang · 5 years

Note

I'm back and with an idea i just had to share with you a fic with Alya knowing Lila was lying but wanted to knock Marinette down because he felt jealous and inferior to Marinette who had talent and headstart to her carreer and celebrity connections (she was still friends with her cuz Mari had a lot of perks )so she has an excuse to lash out her frustration and Mari calls her out saying Mari has been nothing but a good friend and she's been nothing but a bad person bcuz of her insecurites

Jealousy doesn’t become a hero

I very much prefer writing Lila and/or Bustier salt. But I hope this draft satisfies you.

When Volpina had been defeated, Marinette went to check the Ladyblog and was relieved to have found the interview deleted. Adrien must have informed Alya.

Imagine her surprise when Lila kept lying about her time with Achu. Despite her evidence, Alya dismissed it as jealousy.

Um...maybe Lila decided posing as her BFF was a bad idea and asked Alya to take the video down?

When Chameleon came about and was given the most embarrassing defeat of all time, Marinette sat watching Lila give her class a full-detail tall tale about how she rescued (defeated) her.

Then, struck by inspiration, Marinette went back to class, a triumphant air about her, her smirk barely repressed.

Adrien saw but shrugged it off. He figured Marinette realized Lila would get caught sooner or later. He joined her at the back later and soon their old seating arrangement was back.

That night, Alya was surprised when she heard a voice in her bedroom window.

“While I am glad that you don’t run after every akuma now, I hope you still check your sources, Alya.”

Alya turned and beamed. “Ladybug! What’s up? Do you need me for another Mission?”

Ladybug leaned against the wall. “No. I’m here regarding Lila. I’ve been hearing rumors that you posted an interview of her claiming to be my BFF- without checking with me.”

Alya blinked. “Oh. You think I’ve been suckered. Don’t worry, Ladybug, I know Lila’s nothing but a liar.”

Ladybug blinked. “But your interviews?”

Alya nodded and went to open a page on her laptop. She figured one of her classmates must have spread the rumor until it reached Ladybug’s ear (she doesn’t know why Lila was akumatized into Volpina). “I did post her interviews. But do you know how you can control who sees what you post? I made sure those interviews could only be seen by our class. And I have to approve what comments appear on every post. The comments you see are made by our classmates solely, but Lila doesn’t know all that because of their usernames. Like I’m going to ruin my journalistic career for a tabloid post!”

Ladybug blinked again, confused. “But why indulge Lila? Why let her lie to your friends?”

Alya shrugged. “It’s a weird way to make friends, sure. But maybe once Lila realizes how cool we are, she’ll learn she can trust us with the truth.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. Manipulating their classmates to serve her food is not a way to make friends. (And dismissing her was not very friendly of Alya either!) “You are lying to me, Alya Césaire.”

Alya started backward, and started to get nervous. Ladybug was the reason her blog was so popular, and her only chance to become a hero. She was the smartest girl in Paris and could see through lies like glass.

Alya had 2 choices. Lie again and be exposed (and never be a hero again or granted interviews), or tell the truth and never be a hero again (but at least Ladybug is more likely to forgive her)

“Fine. I indulge Lila because it’s nice to see someone else in class get the spotlight.”

Ladybug tilted her head. “I’m sure Chloe has been improving.”

Alya shook her head. “No, not her. I mean Marinette.”

Ladybug was shocked. “The bakers’ Daughter?”

Alya wasn’t surprised Ladybug knew Marinette, not when she was the one who arranged her first official interview with Ladybug.

LB: How is she in the spotlight?

Alya sighed. “She’s the most popular girl in class. She gets confessed to on a regular basis. Even my own Boyfriend was interested in her before me. She knows Jagged Stone, which is probably how she knows Lila is lying. Marinette even got her designs praised by Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois. Her parents are owners of the most popular bakery in Paris. Clara Nightingale and Adrien Agreste both think she is star material, and worthy of being called Ladybug.”

Alya kept going on, noting that Ladybug’s surprised face wasn’t exactly discouraging her. In fact Marinette was still too stunned to react.

“I just wanted someone else to be in the limelight. And if it couldn’t be me. I’d rather it be anybody else, even a liar.”

Ladybug gathered her thoughts. “So you’re just jealous? That Marinette is popular? But you’re popular too.”

Alya gave a bleak laugh. “Hardly. In class, I’m dismissed as the obsessive and nosy reporter. I don’t know any celebrities and they certainly don’t follow the Ladyblog. More people download apps for akuma alerts and hero sightings than subscribe to my blog. I’ve been dismissed for proposing crazy theories, which in hindsight is reasonable.”

LB: I’m assuming you didn’t tell Marinette you know Lila is lying because of that.

AC: Obviously. Because then I’d have to back her up and she would be the hero again. I used the excuse that she was jealous, and she was. But I knew Marinette is above jealousy. It’s annoyingly. She was ready to give Adrien up to an ice queen.

LB wrinkled her eyebrows, drawing on her professionalism and burying her own hurt for later. “If you are upset by Marinette’s success and annoyed by her attitude, why befriend her?”

AS: Because of her connections! Thanks to her, I got to star in Clara’s music video. She somehow got you to agree to do an interview with me. I persuaded her to take over as class president so I didn’t have to do the real work and Chloe wouldn’t be in charge anymore. She gives me free custom designed clothing. And no offence to my mum, but Marinette’s pastries are the best breakfast in the world.

Ladybug finally stood up tall. Alya had been so lost in the relief and satisfaction of finally venting out her jealousy and frustration that she had momentarily forgotten that her listener in the shadows was a very influential idol whom she wanted to make a good impression on.

Ladybug said coldly, “From what you are saying, it sounds like Marinette has been a better Friend that you have ever been. You are as bad as Lila Rossi. You lie for your own gain. And if there’s one thing I despise above all else, Miss Césaire, it’s liars.”

As Ladybug launched her Yoyo out, Alya rushed to make her plea. “Wait! Please wait! I’m sorry!”

LB: No, you’re only sorry you got caught.

ALya cried out, “what can I do to make it up to you?”

Ladybug gave her one last impassive look. “For starters, I’d say tell the truth. To everyone.”

Ladybug left Alya in horrified and torn silence.

As Ladybug returned home, she detransformed and wept on her balcony, amid the perfume of flowers. She could finally face the betrayal and sadness she had kept away in front of Alya.

Tikki sadly cozied up to Marinette’s neck, trying to offer comfort.

Hawkmoth was alerted by a teenager’s despair, agony and betrayal.

Hawkmoth: Hooray, I get to akumatize Marinette after all!

He doesn’t. Adrien saw Ladybug outside and went out to join her. As he searched for Ladybug, he saw the akuma heading for a weeping Marinette.

“Marinette, move!”

Marinette looked up in surprise (Tikki quickly hid among the flowers) “Chat?”

“Cataclysm!” He destroyed the butterfly in front of her face.

Marinette gasped.

Chat quickly steadied himself on the balcony. “Marinette, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Because she was definitely not alright. Those were tear tracks on her face. Chat felt sad that his princess was sad, and wanted to rip out the face of whoever made her cry.

Marinette shook her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Chat was doubtful. An akuma appeared. Clearly she couldn’t handle it. “Are you sure? I’m here for you, you know.”

Marinette finally burst into sobs. She leaped into Chat’s arms. Chat held her close as she confessed the source of her troubles.

“I just learned that Alya wasn’t really my Friend at all. She was just using me.”

Chat was confused. What was she talking about?

Marinette saw his confusion and explained. “I was the one who told Ladybug about Lila first. She got mad and went to confront Lila, i assume that got her akumatized. When Lila got akumatized again today, Ladybug went to visit Alya to make sure she knew Lila was a liar.”

Ok...Chat guessed that explained Marinette’s attitude just before lunch ended.

“And it turns out Alya knew Lila was a liar all along. She never really posted her interviews to the public. She’s just been indulging Lila because she wanted to knock me down.”

Chat was shocked. “And Ladybug told you all this?”

Marinette let out a bark of laughter. “She didn’t have to. I heard Alya myself. I was near her bedroom door when I heard voices saying my name. Once I heard what Alya had to say about me, I didn’t bother knocking or to announce myself. I doubt Nora would bother mentioning me since she was preoccupied with the twins and her parents weren’t home.”

Chat guessed Marinette had new evidence that Lila was a liar and wanted to show it to Alya. But instead she happened to hear a conversation that revealed Alya’s true colours.

Marinette wiped her cheeks bitterly. “She did everything today willingly. She left me to sit in the back alone, without consulting me. She dismissed me and accused me of being jealous. All along, she was the jealous one, and I actually thought she was my Friend!”

Marinette buried her face in her hands.

Chat rubbed Marinette’s back consolingly. “Cheer up princess. You still have the rest of your friends, and me.”

Marinette sniffled. This was not comforting to her. Her friends weren’t much better. And she didn’t see Chat regularly.

Chat sensed he was failing at comforting her and tried again. “So what are you going to do tomorrow. Will you confront Alya?”

“I don’t know. I sit next to her and she is the first person I talk to every morning at school. But I can’t see her face without wanting to shout Liar now. And if I do, she’ll just turn the whole thing against me, like Lila did. (Lila did what now?) I don’t know what to do.”

Chat’s heart broke at how lost Marinette sounded. He tiled her chin up so she would look at him.

“Tell you what, princess. Tomorrow, you are going to walk with your back straight and head proud into that classroom. You are going to give Alya Césaire a polite greeting and ignore her. Talk to your other classmates. Listen to music. Write in your notebooks. Revise old lessons. Do whatever. But don’t give Alya the time of day until you are ready to face her.”

The next day, Adrien was prepared. He ignored Lila and gave a confused and sad Alya the cold shoulder.

When Marinette arrived, Adrien was all sunshine and immediately invited her to a conversation.

Marinette gratefully accepted. And though she stumbled, she kept Chat’s advice and ignored Alya’s nudges and comments.

They kept talking until class started. The girls were thrilled to see progress.

Throughout the first half of the school day, Alya kept trying to talk to Marinette or slip her notes. Marinette ignored her.

Alya guessed what had happened and braced herself. She had to tell the truth. She didn’t want to know what Ladybug would do otherwise if she didn’t.

When Lunch came and Adrien invited him to join her; Alya firmly grabbed Marinette’s hand and said in a low voice. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Marinette reluctantly followed. Unbeknownst to her, Adrien and Lila decided to eavesdrop, for different reasons. Adrien wanted to be there for Marinette and Lila wanted dirt.

In a deserted classroom, Alya finally said the words. “Ladybug told you about last night, didn’t she?”

Marinette’s answer was vague. “She didn’t have to. But she did give me a brief warning this morning. I connected the dots on my own.”

Alya laughed bitterly. “Of course, even Ladybug chooses you over me.”

Marinette stayed silent, waiting for Alya to continue.

“Let me be clear, Marinette. I’m only being honest because of Ladybug. I’ve only been your Friend because of what you do for me.”

Even though Marinette was expected it, it still hurt. Thankfully, her only controlled response was an audible exhale.

Adrien: How could you Alya?

Lila: oh snap!

“I know Lila’s lying but I indulged her because I wanted someone else to take the stage instead of you.”

Lila: she knows?

Marinette raised a brow. “Even at the risk of your blog’s reputation?”

“The interview is only seen by our class. The public can’t access it.”

Lila fumed. She had been played. Alya had used her instead of the other way around. Silently, Lila brought out her phone to record the conversation. Despite Adrien shaking his head, Lila glared at him, daring him to lecture her now.

Lila got the whole juicy bit. Alya admitted what she was jealous about, her betrayal to Marinette. And at the end of it, Marinette was still composed. Adrien had to admire her for it, standing strong in the face of such betrayal.

Marinette: you did all of that just to hurt me? Out of petty jealousy? That you accused me of envy- you resented me that much? and you only used me for free stuff and have been my friend when it's convenient? (This was part of the request) you know, I actually felt hurt that you were just taking advantage of me Alya. But now I just feel sorry for you. Some people like Chloe and Adrien are lucky, they are born with opportunities we can only dream of. But the rest of us, like Nathaniel, like Kitty Section, like myself. We work hard. Sure we have help from our friends, but we never take advantage of them. We have struggled and yes, we do face setbacks, but throughout it all, we have stayed true to ourselves. But you, the moment you see someone thriving, you don’t focus on improving yourself, you just try to leech off that person, like you did to Lila, and like you did to me. You can’t think of safer methods to record akuma fights. You never listen to anyone’s reasoning and criticism of your theories. You are stuck in your own entitled world, that you can’t see the bigger picture. You’re a parasite, Alya Césaire. So...I won’t expose you, because I have no doubt you’ll turn everyone against me. But I won’t be your Friend anymore.”

Alya wasn’t bothered. “Fine. So we agree to never speak to each other again unless necessary?”

“Yes.” Marinette walked out first. Adrien and Lila scattered before she could open the door.

Adrien immediately went to grab Marinette for lunch and did all he could to distract her from her recent ordeal.

Meanwhile, Lila edited the video to avoid incriminating herself and sent it to the class group chat.

She hates Marinette sure, but no one plays Lila for a fool and gets away with it.

The class is shocked and angry at Alya, who tries to claim that Lila is lying. She runs away from the mob and returns as Lady Wifi to punish Lila.

Ladybug defeats her but Alya demands a question if Ladybug is friends with Lila. Feeling sorry for Alya, Ladybug announces that her only Best Friend is Chat Noir. She does not befriend civilians.

Alya is sentenced to switch seats with Nathaniel. Adrien takes her place as Deputy. Nino dumps Alya. Lila and her new desk mate keep sabotaging each other.

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