#I just wanted to uh; show off that tattoo she has with flowers of those who mean the most to her... ;) and Kisuke's 'ki' is there too. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|sixteen.

chapter sixteen: coneflowers

↳ flower meanings: justice

chapter summary: fragile box, please handle with care.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst but not for tom and y/n :) , mentions of sex, timmy, cherry, fluff.

word count: 11.6K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

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perfidy ( series masterlist)

I know it took me forever to write this, I’ve been having a hard time, my dog passed and I have been grieving, however, somehow I found the strenght to write.

I know, it’s long. I know, I’m too descriptive.idc :) I liked it. it’s my writing and i’m sharing it with you, hope you enjoy it.

thanks to @erodasghosts for being a real one and helping me out.

btw stop sending anon hate it’s getting tiring

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd listen to taylor swift

Someone once said, to never fall in love, everything that falls, breaks. Y/n knew she was fragile but she’d broken enough to know she couldn’t break again. She was but pieces now. However, she could mend it with love.

There is always that inexplicable feeling of joy when you get to wake up being held by one’s love, it is believed to be one of the most pleasurable moments, or at least it was for y/n to ever think of. If not the most pleasurable one. You can always long to go to bed with someone, but to wish for someone’s mornings, when they have a new day, talks about the most intimate act of all.

She was usually the one to wake up earlier than him, usually watching as the sun would creep in from the window to warm his cheekbones. So peacefully as he was far away, dreaming. Golden streaking under his lips.

Y/n always wondered if he ever dreamed of her. Often dreams are senseless, and fun, however dreams can turn into nightmares.

Nightmares which would disappear whenever she was close to him.

As usual, she had opened her eyes before him. How could anyone doubt them? She inquired to herself, her fingers delicately traced his skin, as he was away in his own world.

There was no feeling of storms approaching and if it did, she knew she’d be able to dance with him. And they would bloom again. Though they were not right now, they would eventually.

“Y/N?” He said sheepishly, an eye half open.

Y/n jumped, slightly startled.

She smiled, “good morning.”

And it was a good one.

“Are you watching me sleep?” He asked, chuckling as his arm tried to bring her close.

She blushed, and placed a kiss on his nose, “I—I got lost….in… your eyes?”

He scoffed, “my closed eyes?” He laughed, trying still to open one eye completely.

“I—was thinking and your face happened to be the view I had,” she said.

“The only view you need,” he smirked, nuzzling into her hair.

She rolled her eyes, placing soft small kisses around his jaw.

It is never easy to understand why the heart chooses what it chooses. If someone dared to ask she wouldn’t have the answer. Maybe she did.

She could tell them about the fact that she was herself, and how she wanted to see how his eyelashes shined against the moonlight. How his silences spoke to her more than words. Or how her body was tattooed by his kiss. How after everything, they wanted to fight for their love.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he said. “We don’t have to be awake.”

She rolled her eyes, “no,” she stated before gluing her lips to his neck, kissing her way across it.

“Oh,” he chuckled and she felt the vibrations through his neck. “Or you can… do that.” He lifted his head slightly, allowing her to get her lips on the sweet spot he loved.

She giggled as she continued.

“I think I can get used to this,” his eyes fluttered open.

Love is not something that has a formula, there is no reason as to why someone loves someone. But looking at him, maybe she could think of some reasons.

To the world, and the world being the people in the house, they were the enemies who had turned into lovers. Y/N knew better, they were lovers who had tried so hard to fool the world into believing they were enemies that they ended up believing it.

“Hm, you must,” she warned him, now moving her lips up to the corner of his, he blushed and finally watched her.

“Oh, will it be like this?” He smirked and finally managed to open his eyes, he tried stretching out but his hands were too eager to hold her again.

“Maybe,” she chuckled.

Had they not had those moments alone all their life? A certain calmness they shared whenever no one was around, and even when they would mock and bicker, it would be a strange familiarity. Was he not able to make her laugh? And cry? And feel every emotion. Every single one of them, and one who is powerful enough to know how to break you but chooses to love you instead and heal you is incredible. Someone who tried to mend the delicate parts.

Being enemies had only shown them they could love each other even on their worst sides. And it had built them up, in a good way. They would have fun, competition. Even after all their battles, she found peace in him. Besides they both knew they didn’t need each other but they chose each other. They were not meant to be but damn, did they fight for each other.

She finally caught his lips in hers, as he managed to turn her around and deepen the kiss, his arms embracing her as close as he could. She knew no one understood how they could be so in love after everything.

Y/N guessed no one would understand, how after everything her eyes still shined when he smiled at her. How she wanted sunrises and sunsets, and the fun that might come in between. And to write a new story, one that the world didn’t have to know.

“Every morning?” He asked her, after pulling away from the kiss. “Is that a promise?”

She bit her lip, “Not every morning.”

He frowned.

“Some other mornings I might not kiss your neck, maybe your forehead,” she giggled.

He chuckled, as he blushed, “Oh, I like that idea.”

“Hm, you do?” She grinned. “How about…. Your ear?”

He smiled, “I like that, too.”

“Uh… your jaw.”

“Yes,” Tom confirmed again.

She kept watching him with mischief, “uh… how about your chest?”

“Yes?”

“Hm…your shoulder?”

“Y/N, let’s just agree that I like your lips on any part of me,” he laughed before getting his own lips caressed on her neck. “Though I like them better on mine.”

Maybe that had been her mistake, to try and get everyone to know a story that only them seemed to understand. Though they were always trying and running and hiding. As if they were merely prays trying to be hunted and they were scared of the very next roadblock, the next needle that would pop them.

“Hm, good, and I like yours,” she agreed. He served as a great blanket,she thought before pulling him to a deeper kiss.

And yet they’d have each other at the end of the day, and a kiss to look up to as if it was the first time. There were no other two people so different and so impossible for everyone else but that worked together so well. They saw their truth in each other, and though it was stupid, it was real.

Y/N loved Tom because she didn’t need a reason for it. And she wouldn’t feel guilty every time he told her he loved her, she did not have to. And she had not given up because she knew Tom turned everything bright, that was his goddam gift and curse, he turned everything golden. Midas touch that sometimes turned things into gold when they were not worth turning into.

Even them, who were so broken, he managed to make it perfect.

Because they were them. No one else had to understand and though she knew they had been waiting for explanations the night before she did not have to give them any because she did not want their point of view. She only wanted Tom’s. And his, it was looking so bright.

She pulled away this time, “hm are we supposed to tell them?”

“Hm,” he kissed his way down to her neck and then to the valley between the slight cleavage that could show a bit of her breasts. “Probably.”

“I guess they will ask for an explanation,” she said, as her hands landed on his hair, twirling her fingers around it. “I mean, James saw me on the verge of killing you yesterday and today you are—“

Tom chuckled as he looked up. “Right, they looked very confused yesterday.”

Y/N grinned, “wouldn’t you be, idiot?”

“Not with us, no,” he admitted as he rolled off, now resting his head on his hand, watching her.

“Why not?” Y/N frowned.

He laughed, as if it was rather obvious. “We’ve been doing this since we were kids, idiot,” he remarked the nickname. “Fight to death, then be friends for five minutes,” he chuckled as his hands traced up her body. “Except this isn’t—friendship, or not the PG-13 version of it—“

“This is definitely not the PG-13 version,” she agreed. “But this isn’t friendship.”

“No, and it won’t last five minutes,” he smirked as his eyes turned with lust at her. “Forty-five maybe?” His eyes were burning with lust as he kept kissing his way down.

“No,” she rolled her eyes, giggling. “Not right now, Thomas.”

“Why not?” He looked up with mischief.

She chuckled, “what would they say if they heard us?”

“Do we still have to be alone for us to work out?” He questioned. “Didn’t we agree on not—being secretive?”

She bit her lip, “No, but… I am not exactly fond of the idea of them listening to us have sex.”

Tom had made a point. And it was the point that they both knew it, it’s always been that way, Rome, New York, now his room. What a magical place it was when they were alone. Getting away to be happy because nobody wanted to see them tumble down.

He laughed, “Oh, I—well, we don’t have to be—uh, I thought we could-“

“Easy, Tom,” she said then, rolling her eyes. “I think I also told you I want to slow things down.”

He paused, “right—But you—“

“I know,” she gulped. “I know I can’t stop myself but we both get to put boundaries, and— I need to sort things out.”

“Yeah, right, right—“

“But—that doesn’t mean,” she coughed. “That I don’t love waking up to you.”

He watched her with a smile. “I know, I know,” he kissed the corner of her lips, more sweetly now and rolled off. “So, are we going to tell them?”

“I believe we—“she chuckled. “Maybe they’ll assume we are—in a good place.”

“Yeah, I mean—“

“I just—“ she sat up, Tom watched her, still laying down. “I need you to—understand something, I’m—Please just bear with me?” She asked him. “I don’t want to lose this, so—“

He was calm, even smiling as he watched her, his hand reached to her hair, slowly stroking it. So different, neither of them waiting to attack.

“I—“ she didn’t know how to put it in words.

“No, no, I get it, calmer, I know you need time to figure out your thoughts but I’m here—“he said. “We need to figure it out, slowly, and talk to people. Cherry, Tim.”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Yes I know, ease your thoughts. You always have something in your mind but we agreed on figuring out how to soothe your mind.”

“Yours too.”

“But we have each other, don’t we?” He asked, a calm soothing smile. “We are figuring it out, together.”

She beamed. “Yeah.”

“I like this new us,” he pointed out.

“What? The talking ones?” Y/N laughed.

“Yes,” he smirked.

“Thought you’d be more fond of the ones that ignore everything and make out,” she sassed.

“We can talk about it and then make out and other stuff, darling, they don’t cancel each other out, I like talking.”

“I hate it, I barely know how to speak my thoughts.”

He chuckled, “that’s not true, idiot.”

“No, but it was easier painting each other as villains,” she pointed out. “And we could’ve left it all behind and make out... and yet.”

“And yet, we spent all night talking.”

They had. Figuring out why they worked, and it made sense. The flowers had never dried, not theirs, at least. Y/N had finally accepted it to herself, mostly. That they would work out not because they wouldn’t have any battles but because they would win them, if they were together.

They didn’t blame each other, but they both assumed they’d hurt each other and they wouldn’t forget it. To leave it behind would let the wounds open, to acknowledge them would let the scars heal.

But they both knew they weren’t going to now. That was the difference. Both of them would excel on trying to be the best for them.

However, both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, and that’s why their decision was so strong.

“How are you feeling now?” He asked.

Not empty anymore, she thought. “Confused,” she admitted.

She had the right to be confused. Her heart had been juggling with different emotions over the last 72 hours, a rollercoaster of emotions that didn’t quite mix. She still had her own words circling in her mind, about past wounds. About the kiss she’d seen. Though she knew it hadn’t been Tom.

That was a difference, and yes, it hurt. But Tom had not been the one to kiss cherry. Tom had not kissed Cherry to hurt y/n.

The kiss had been a mistake. And y/n knew she could forgive mistakes.

That was the one difference between after Rome and this. This hadnt been a thought out plan.

“Is there anything I can do?” He questioned, holding her hand.

She looked at him, not really. But now at least she didn’t question whether he loved her or not. She knew he did.

The thing is. She hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and that’s what had shocked her the most, and now she was starting to come back from her thoughts.

“No, I just need to rest,” she said. “I think my emotions just need a break.”

“We can have a break today,” he said. “I thought we said we would have it.”

But she couldn’t have it, not yet.

The decision they’d taken wasn’t permanent, just for now, at least. Filming and then they’ll figure it out back in London, though she was slightly scared because he would be away to film, again, and she’d be left alone. But not lonely now, that would be a huge difference and she’d be looking forward to seeing him again. And she wouldn’t have to worry about the heartbreak now.

“I guess,” she plopped back on next to him.

“This week has been so stressful,” he pointed out. “I’m exhausted.”

They were exhausted, both of them, from being adorable to the heartbreak, to the fight to making up and then fighting again and then talking, and talking.

“We made the right choice, right?” She asked. Because she was sure they had but maybe it was just both of them being exhausted of feeling.

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asked. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do,” she said. “I think it’ll also be easier to talk to each other.”

“Yes,” he smiled slightly. “In the quiet and peace of this very room.”

She looked around. “It needs stuff,” she smiled.

“Stuff?” He grinned.

“Yeah, it’s too—plain.”

“I’m sure we will take care of that,” he pulled her close. “I’m sure the Polaroids you’ll take will be the perfect decor. But—Look, see over there? Vinyls.”

She laughed, “having them on the floor isn’t exactly decor.”

“It’s art, darling, it turns you on,” he mocked.

She laughed, “ah, right, it does.”

“But you’re right it’s plain,”

She nuzzled close to him, “yeah.”

“So more vinyls, right?”

“Yes.”

“And the Polaroids…?”

She grinned, “yes.”

“I actually,” he coughed. “Have some.”

She glanced up with curiosity, “the ones I gave back with the box?”

He chuckled, “yeah,” he glanced over. “Dude you really said let’s wreck this man’s emotions didn’t you?”

She pursed her lips and cupped his face, “why?”

“You literally—made a dvd,” he reminded her. “With videos of us?” He chuckled. “Like—you really said: ah yeah, fuck him, let’s remind him that we’ve done this before and that we transformed it into a relationship, and then you—Fucking saved the beer cap from that one time we—“ he cleared his throat.

“Yeah when we first hooked up. And that controller from the first kiss—“

“I’m surprised,” he admitted. “Are you a kleptomaniac?” He laughed.

“Maybe? I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just—“

“They remind you of moments, right?” He questioned,

“Yeah,” she sighed.

He looked at her, “why did you give them to me?”

“Because—“she paused, “I know what I said in the script, and I know it was awful but I also—wanted to show you that I had written another story, you know? That that story was the one that made us and built us up and that I’ve been—Though it’s stupid, trrasuring it?”

He stayed quiet.

“I—Did I give you the letter, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah—I just—-you don’t know how many times I drowned going back through the memories, trying to figure out the puzzle. When—back in Rome it was my way of bottling up, as if keeping it in a box meant keeping my broken heart in a drawer?”

He nodded.

“But I—After we—I don’t know when we were with that whole enemies with benefits things and we kind of—Broke up? Can we call it that way?”

“Uh… When was this?”

“When—“she chuckled. “I—Well I was scared because all of sudden you were getting all coupley—I mean you bloody made me have breakfast with your parents and made me hold your hand the entire time.”

He smirked, “Yes.”

“Well, after that—You learned Tim had kissed me, which by the way, he did—I wasn’t—“

Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah, seems—believable, but—Why did you—-Why did you suddenly just say no? Like—I was the one to kind of suggest—a relationship?”

“That was not suggesting a relationship,” she laughed. “Tommy I love you but your way of—“

He scoffed, “I—Okay, but what about that day?”

“I was so confused because I—I finally opened up that box and it was like—as if—As if I—“

Tom seemed confused. “As if you opened your heart?” He said dramatically. He seemed amused.

She rolled her eyes, “yes, Tom, and you should start getting used to that, all my metaphors.”

“Sorry, I forget we are dating and that now I can’t mock you,” he confessed.

“No, you can mock me but….”

“Right but then I have to kiss you?” He grinned, leaning over.

She pushed his face away, earning a glare. “Ew, no.”

He laughed, “What?”

Y/n nudged him. “No, but like—I did it as if it was—I don’t know—But like that box?” She said. “I wouldn’t mind having that dress hanging around until… It hurt, like, all of my—Like I only boxed them when it hurt.”

He remained quiet.

“And then… It just… I couldn’t keep boxing it away, you know?”

“And why did you give it to me?”

“Because when—after the engagement party,” she started, “I guess it was—“

“Did you want me to see the heartbreak?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “I realized I boxed it because everything boxed is a good thing. None of it were—sad memories. I didn’t box the yellow flowers you gave me—I mean I didn’t have them but, I boxed the one you brought after prom, what I mean is that I only stayed with the good things? If that makes sense?”

“Yeah, no I guess it’s—“

“And I gave them to you I guess as a lame excuse of trying to—Be like—Hey we have a lot of good things because we often try and forget that.”

“Right,” he coughed.

“And I think we shouldn’t, you know?” she said. “Like yes, we’ve been talking about the bad parts, but we also have a lot of good ones, you know?”

He smiled.

“What—what did you do with it?” She asked.

“It’s back home,” he said and then smiled. “Which could be your home when we come back, too…”

She rolled her eyes, “So good for taking things slow.”

He peppered her with soft kisses across her face.

“Tommy,” she giggled.

“We will talk about it, you know, eventually….” He reminded her,

“Yeah, I know,” she grinned. “No—but, yeah, that box, I have—“she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought you would burn it.”

He chuckled, “I—honestly I did think about it, like when you did, burning the flowers right in my face.”

“I was broken-hearted and petty,” she said.

He chuckled, “it was aesthetic.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Am I wrong? Don’t you do everything for it?” He teased.

“Oh, yes, I cried for months just because it would be aesthetically pleasing,” she snapped, pushing herself far from him.

“I’m joking, hey, I’m joking,” he pulled her back to him. “Can we go back to decorating matters?”

“No.”

“Ah, please, I know you’re dying to change this stupid room with your polaroids, and… maybe flowers?” He smirked.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re so stupid, yes,” she grinned before kissing him sweetly. “There’s—also, do you have some clear space for my clothes—?”

“Yeah, I think,” he gave it a thought. “Yes there’s plenty of space, your clothes will be safe.”

This was what she needed. Those little conversations about being normal, not about their past or not about how much her heart was breaking.

“Hopefully they’ll stay there all the time,” he added.

She raised her brows in confusion.

“Oh please darling, it'll be better if we wear no clothes at all,” he suggested so smoothly, y/n thought she would melt.

“You’re an idiot,” she blushed, giggling softly.

“You love me,” he stated smugly.

She grinned, “yeah, I do.”

It was time for him to blush, and kiss her, gently. Leaving soft tray of kisses across her face.

She smiled, “So, how about I— tell your brothers and you tell mine,” she suggested.

Tom laughed, pulling away nervously , “are you trying to get rid of me?”

“What? No!” She was clearly confused.

“Look, y/n, love, darling, princess, angel—“

She rolled her eyes with a knowing smile, “what?”

“I love you but I don’t think I have the balls to tell your brother you are moving in,” he said.

She laughed, “why not?”

“You’re really asking?” He cackled. “Didn’t you hear him last night?”

Ah, she had. James said: I swear to god, if they have make up sex I’ll kill him.

“I mean,” she laughed, “he wasn’t wrong, he did say that we had make up sex—. That’s kind of—“

“No, no it’s not what happened,” Tom cleared his throat. “I mean, yes a little, but it wasn’t that, like, we talked, a lot and we got to many conclusions.”

“Yes but we still—“

“So what? He said he would kill me!” He laughed. “The fact that it did happen—I mean he doesn’t know it happened but—“

She giggled, “but what?”

“I am not risking being killed by your brother.”

“You are not going to tell him that, you’re going to tell him I am moving in,” she reminded him. “Not the… sex part.”

“Please, but telling him you are moving in is basically telling him we are going to have sex on a daily basis.”

She raised her brows, “we are not—“

“You can’t keep your hands off me, dumbass, he will know.”

“I am not, but—That’s beside the point, I am not moving in because of that, did you really think—?”

“I know you—I know it’s not because of that but this is James we are talking about—He will assume.”

It was only partly why she was moving in. No, not the sex but to be with him. They’d work it out together and being together more time would help. Besides, she knew that she had to get rid of Tim. Not because of Tom’s jealousy, no, but because Tim had too much power in her mind and she did not know if she was strong enough to stop him. It wasn’t that Tim still had her feelings, no, but she had to know who she was without Tim, and who she was with Tom. She liked the version she was with Tom, the kind of person who was willing to see the best and try and show the best. Y/n liked who she was around Tom now. This version, the one that was willing to make her most complicated thoughts less complicated. The one that smiled when waking up, the one that smiled after a kiss.

Y/N didn’t need Tom, technically. She knew that she could be fine in an apartment on her own, but she wanted him. And her wishes had become so strong they’d turn into a necessity. Her body was tattooed with him, her heart had his name carved.

Her time away from him had been only a proof that she’d come back to him. Maybe he was an addiction. Maybe she was young and stupid, but she knew him too well to know that it was better to keep him around than to be away from him.

Tom was a part of her, and trying to deny it would only bring her down. So she’d said yes to his proposal to move in. Because she knew it wasn’t a proposal that came from fear, it had been a proposal that had come from passion.

The sky was clear. After the storms. They didn’t have to dance under the rain because she’d finally punched the hole through the roof. They’d come back to each other.

Though they could assume that she’d take revenge over his mistake, and he could take his own, neither of them would, because why would they ever break what they love.

And she wouldn’t because they’d be chasing shadows and she didn’t need that.

Maybe they had to drown together, or understand they’d both drowned.

But the water, though still slightly altered, was swimmable, because she had him. And that’s all she needed right now, he was the only answer to the many of her questions.

“Well, if he assumes it,” she chuckled, “it’s on him. Besides, if he assumes it that’s gross, why does he assume his little sister is having sex?” That made him laugh, “besides, I don’t care. It’s our decision, they don’t know about us.”

There was something about them that they managed to see each other.

“They do know us,” he pointed out.

“Yes, separately, they don’t see this,” she pointed out. “I think they don’t fully understand us, and honestly, I don’t need them to.”

Tom tilted his head.

“Eventually they’ll see it, but I think they do, already, they just have this version of us, and we do, too, but I think we—“

“We are more than that, yes,” Tom agreed.

“They don’t know about the things we do, they don’t know about the I love you’s.”

He closed his eyes, “did you just fucking quote One Direction?”

“They don’t know about the up all nights—“ she sang.

“Stop. You’re ruining this.”

“They don’t know—“

“Shut up, I love you but you should stop,” Tom laughed. “No—I hate you.”

“I hate you, too,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him. How marvelous, her enemies to lovers story had turned out.

“Are… we avoiding going out and facing them?” He asked in between kisses.

“Hm. I think so,” she admitted.

They would have to face them, and so they, though they’d rather stay savoring each others’ words, they went to the kitchen, where they would be received with their spectators.

Sam, James and Clark. There was no sight of Harry, y/n noticed.

They froze when they saw them. As if with a word they could destroy each other. Y/N didn’t like to think of them so fragile but she understood where they came from.

“Hello,” Tom was the one to break the silence.

They didn’t answer.

“Good morning,” y/n was next.

Clark smiled, “good morning!” He greeted them. “How did you guys sleep?” He had a mischievous and knowing look on his face.

“Fantastic,” Tom said.

Y/N smiled, “Good, how about you guys?”

“Ah, slept next to an idiot, but it was lovely,” he said.

James glared at his fiancé.

“Ah, me too,” y/n grinned. “It comes as a surprise, does it not? How incredibly soothing it is to sleep next to an idiot.”

Tom chuckled and eyed their breakfast, as if trying to decide what he would have for him. Sam watched them with irony.

“Surprising indeed,” Clark answered.

“What?” James asked.

“You wouldn’t know James, you are the idiot in the relationship. “Where’s Harry?” Y/n asked with curiosity.

Sam smirked. “Not here.”

Tom stole a piece of bacon from Sam’s plate earning a glare from his younger brother.

“Not—?”Y/n frowned, very unaware of the situation. “Alright—uh, what can I have for breakfa—“

“Alright that’s enough,” James interrupted. “You guys are going to act as if nothing happened?”

Tom took a deep breath, “good morning, James.”

“Good morning?” James mocked. “Good morning? That’s all you have to say?”

Tom chuckled, “sorry, how did you sleep, James?”

James was losing it.

“Are you kidding us?” James asked. “You—y/n almost murdered him yesterday—“

Y/N chuckled, “so? You pretended to be straight for fourteen years. And now you’re here engaged to a man, we all pretend to be things we’re not.”

Clark bursted out laughing.

“What the fuck,” was all James could say.

Clark placed a hand on his shoulders, immediately James calmed down. “Jamie, love we talked about this—“

“I’m—You guys just—“ James couldn’t even speak.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, “it’s none of your business, James, but if you must know, I made out with him for 10 hours straight and forgot about it.”

Tom was the one to freak out now, “no, no no—We didn’t—No, we—we talked okay?”

Y/N laughed, “yeah—Fine.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think what James here means is that we are tired of not knowing how the hell to act around this and we need an update.”

“Yeah. So about that,” y/n said. “First, I need you to understand that this is between Tom and me,” she cleared up. “Whatever we are going through, we don’t need you to meddle in, and we don’t want you to take sides or whatever, because there is no sides here, this is not y/n versus Tom, this is not a prank war, this is not—“

Tom cleared his throat.

Y/N closed her eyes, “we came into a realization that we—no, we’ve always known who we are when we are together. We know each other, and we love you guys but this is our thing.”

Clark smiled and then turned to James as if telling him: ‘I told you so’.

“We—“Tom was the one to speak now. “I think what she’s trying to say is that we don’t want you guys to be worried about it.”

“Yes,” she said. “And...You guys all know us, we know, I know, James, I know you know me and want to protect me, however you guys barely know who we are together,” Y/N continued.

James watched them, “We only want what’s best.”

“Yes but how do you know what’s best for us?” Y/N asked. “And it’s… Look, I’ve never meddled in your relationship with Clark, I barely even knew about it and look at you guys.”

“Yes but you guys-” James tried to intrude again.

“We know,” Tom said. “We know, though it’s not perfect, it’s our relationship, and…” Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, you’ve been witnesses to the bad parts, and only the bad parts, but… we… We also have some very good ones, like back in New York, Rome or just this morning, and maybe that’s on us, because we’ve always feared about it and… We’ve always been so…”

“Yeah, what we thought was that we… We are so scared of the outcome that we’ve always shielded ourselves by being alone, and we don’t have to,” y/n finished his sentence.

“And yes, it’s not perfect, but it is the best that has happened to us and though it’s hard to believe we've brought the best of each other..” Tom cleared his throat. “We have.”

“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe but I love the y/n I am when this idiot is around,” she admitted.

James was listening now, Clark couldn’t help but smile and Sam was, honestly, just confused.

“We’ve overcome the worst heartbreaks and we both know each other’s worst and we are willing to bring the best,” Tom said. “We are willing to work it out and step out of the idea we have of each other because we also know we are trying to become our best versions.”

Sam nodded, “Cool, now, can we just please be aware of your relationship status? Though we won’t meddle I think we’re very involved in this and might as well—you know, be aware.”

Y/N and Tom looked at each other, it was weird why they felt so insecure about it yet there was no reason to.

“She’s moving in,” Tom announced, firmly but regretted it instantly. “Uh—Just—“

The room was incredibly quiet. Of course they had expected this, they had been on the verge of breaking up right now and this outcome was nothing of what they had expected.

Y/N nodded, that’s all she could do. She walked closer to Tom.

James took a deep breath, Clark held his hand, knowing that James was probably about to lose his shit. He didn’t.

James didn’t look at Tom, he looked at his sister, who only reached out for her lover’s hand, now uneasy and kind of sweaty.

Sam wanted to roll his eyes, and not because he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure why.

Y/n thought she knew what they were thinking, that they were completely crazy. That they wouldn’t last. That it was just another stupid idea. Like back when they were children and they had decided to play at the tree house together and five minutes in y/n had climbed down crying because Tom had said something mean. Or that one time when they had gone to the movies when they were younger and said they would share the popcorn and Tom had ended up with the bucket on his head.

Like the old times when they always said they would be fine and then five minutes later they’d be at each other’s throat or on top of each other trying to hit the other.

Y/n thought they were thinking that. And they probably were.

The difference was that she didn’t care this time, because she knew that this time probably, yes, she’d be on his throat, but with her lips tracing its way and if someone was on top of each other, well, she would… really like that.

“Alright,” James said, finally breaking the silence.

That was new.

And everybody was confused.

“Just know, that this is my sister, Thomas,” he added. “Please just stay five feet apart at all times. Separate bedrooms.”

Tom chuckled nervously, he was sweating. He would actually take that in mind, he tried to walk away. He wasn’t sure why he was scared of James, it’s not like James would hurt him. Maybe it was a matter of trying not to disappoint him.

“No, thanks for the suggestion,” y/n smiled. “But I’m good. He’s a good pillow.”

James wanted to ask a million questions, and he only was squeezing Clark’s hand. Clark thought he would end up losing it.

“So—breakfast?” Y/n said with a smug smirk.

Sam kept watching them with curiosity.

“Just—Just—“James was startled, y/n could tell, “I—“He was warned with a glare by Clark. “I need—I need to know, please, I just—how the hell—How did you guys even go—from—?”

“From what? Enemies to this?” Y/N questioned.

“That I can answer, she flirted once for 20 seconds and I became obsessed with her,” Tom said and then laughed. “No, I’m joking, well, no—Not really, but she kissed me once and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

Y/n smiled. “Yeah, he smiled at me once and that was it for me, also, I’m attracted to stupid. And he happens to be—“

“No—“James tried to say something but y/n interrupted him again.

“Ah okay, well we flirted at some bar once and we—“y/n started.

“Danced! Yeah, to that song from Risky Business!” Tom didn’t let her finish knowing damn well that hadn’t happened but he would not let her say they had flirted and hooked up and ended up with this.

“Ah, yeah, but that didn’t happen until after—“

“I flirted with you on set,” Tom reminded her.

She grinned,”that was flirting? Well, okay yes—“

“No, I didn’t mean—,” James tried speaking again.

“Ah sorry,James,” y/n laughed. “Right so—In his car—“

“We got pancakes at midnight,” Tom interrupted yet again. Did she want him dead?

“And then I held hands with her having breakfast once and I realized I wanted to wake up every morning to her,” Tom said.

Y/n glared, “that’s—“

“Yes, and we danced to that song from Dirty Dancing and she ended up madly in love with me.”

“Yes and then on the plane—“y/n continued with a smirk, she was mocking him. She clearly knew what she was doing. This was Tom and Y/n in their splendor. She was teasing.

“Yes we had a date,” Tom glared, interrupting again. “And then we danced in the middle of the street in New York..”

“Why the hell is there so much dancing,” Sam asked.

Y/n laughed, “yeah, dancing.”

James rolled his eyes, “I don’t care about whatever happened—“

“That’s the thing, James,” y/n said. “I know you’re asking how the hell did I turn from almost murdering him to now moving in with him, and that’s exactly the explanation I’m giving you. All those little details in our relationship? That’s what led us here.”

James took a deep breath. Clark brushed his back trying to soothe him. Y/N knew they weren’t exactly happy with this, but this was it.

Even last time she was nervous about it. How would they react, and how they feared they would respond. But why did it matter?

Though she knew that they would be supportive, no matter what. They would be supportive. It was not then that mattered.

She knew her mind could easily be manipulated by someone else. Someone who was not at that house.

Y/N and Tom both expected James to say his infamous words ‘I’m happy you’re happy.’ Which would mean he didn’t agree.

He didn’t, instead he said, “Dont’ fuck it up, please, I love you both too much and I really want you both to be happy, and if you guys make each other happy then don’t be fucking stupid.”

They had his approval, not that it mattered.

Sam had been quiet. Dangerously quiet.

Y/N knew not to push him.

They had breakfast, and it had been calm. Clark had been kind enough to change the subject of conversation and brought the subject of the wedding though James had been reluctant. They did talk about it, and Tom had tried to make some points on it by recalling that he’d been the one to introduce Tom and Clark.

“Introducing me to the love of my life won’t redeem you from even holding my sister’s hand, Thomas.”

But though the sky was clear, y/n knew they had to drive to the storm, the difference this time, they’d go together.

Y/N had given it a thought, she was not sure how she would talk to Cherry. She was going to...eventually.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Sam had asked as y/n and Tom were splashing water at each other while doing the dishes.

Tom glanced at his brother.

“Alone?” Sam remarked.

Y/N chuckled, “Yeah, sure.”

And she left with him. Tom didn’t know what that was about. Though he knew he didn’t have to worry, one because Sam would get y/n against him, not that he had to, and besides y/n had made sure to make Tom know that she wouldn’t let their relationship tumble down over little doubts and fears.

Sam wouldn’t give her any. But he knew that there was something bothering Sam, he wondered what. But if it was a problem with Tom, he would’ve talked it with him.

Tom never really understood Sam and y/n’s relationship, it was very peculiar and fun, he knew. He knew y/n trusted Sam with her life. And Sam trusted her with his.

It took him a while, he’d seen them talking far away.

“What’s--up with them?” Tom asked James and Clark who were on their way to go out, Clark explained they’d go tourist.

“Dunno, maybe he’s trying to bring some reason to y/n and try and convince her not to date you,” James joked with a smug smirk.

Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes, “You’re really hating this, huh?”

Clark nudged James, “No, he doesn’t, he’s just being a bitter asshole, like the big brother he was to be.”

“Yeah,” James confirmed. “I hate any guy who dates her, she may be a pain in the ass but no one deserves her.”

Tom was slightly hurt by that, though he agreed, he knew James had never been this reluctant as when she was dating Tim. Tom faked a laugh anyway.

Clark glared at James. “You’re doing exactly what I fucking told you not to.”

“Please,” James grinned. “Tom perfectly knows I’m joking, they’re so bloody meant to be it’s making me sick, but I still forbid you to even fucking hold her hand,” he said as he put on a jacket.

Tom was slightly calmed by that statement. “‘Lright.”

“But no, I wouldn’t worry about Sam, Sam is probably talking about a theory he came up about something, he was watching Sherlock last night, I think so… You know how he is.”

Tom chuckled, “right.”

“And they haven’t seen each other in so long so he just probably took the chance.”

“Right,” Tom said, and it did make sense.

Clark and James left, eventually after telling Tom their plans. Tom was still slightly nervous.

When y/n came back, her eyes were distraught and distracted.

“Everything okay?” Tom asked, quickly.

She licked her lips, “Yeah, yeah, we…”

“You don’t seem alright,” Tom pointed out.

“Yeah, I… No, don’t worry, Sam just…” She nodded to herself, as if she was figuring out her thoughts on her own.

“You sure?” Tom pushed.

Y/N only nodded before walking away

Sam was walking by too, “Don’t worry, let her… sit in her thoughts.”

“What did you say to her?” Tom asked.

“Nothing that prejudices you, don’t worry,” Sam said.

Y/N needed some clothes and to start packing. y/n was quiet for another moments, and then asked to go to her flat, she wasn’t distraught anymore. Tom and her talked again, he didn’t push the Sam subject, but they talked, apparently it was something they were doing now. While in the car, just like they had in the morning, talking, calmly. With a few jokes in between.

Y/n didn’t know how, probably Tom either but he was teasing, like old times. Both of them making fun of each other, remembering.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked as they were climbing the outside stairs to y/n’s apartment, he reached for her hand to stop her.

She looked back, she wondered how their silhouettes looked, very Romeo and Juliet probably. Romantic.

“Do what?” She asked, “go upstairs?”

“No, dumbass,” he chuckled, as he took a step forward but she was still ahead. “Move in?”

Honestly, she did have some doubts, that had nothing to do with Tom, and nothing to do with her apartment. Y/N had doubts on herself, not with Tom, but she—still was unsure on how she would feel when they would have to leave, eventually. Back to London. She was doubting the process of going back to London. And moving in with Tom meant she’d eventually have to. Or—what if she had to stay? How would she find another apartment—or would she have to move in back with Emma and Tim? Would Emma even stay in LA? And would Tim?

No worries with Emma but—Tim.

She’d worry about it later.

“Yes,” she smiled as she pulled his hand, he climbed to the same step. “I’m sure, besides, it’s not like I’m moving in today, I’m just—getting some clothes,” she reminded him.

“Right?”

“Are you sure?” She asked. Maybe he hadn’t asked because of her but because of him. Maybe Tom was second guessing the proposal that had come in so abruptly.

Y/N had not initially answered when he had asked, after all, he had blurted it out in a very compromising position.

“What?” she had asked.

“That—was stupid wasn’t it?” It had been. But, really, y/n was used to his stupidity.

And they had remained quiet on the ride. Tom had been so embarrassed for even daring to think of it, let alone asking it.

Tom had tried to cut the silence. “I—“

“I just—“she laughed as she interrupted. “So—I was—you know, on top of you and you thought—Yes, I want to move in with her, that was what was going through your mind?”

Tom turned red, “I—no—“

“Your mind was elsewhere while we—was it that boring—?”

“No!” He coughed. “I—No, nothing like that—No, I just—It was on my mind before it happened and—“

“It was on your mind?”

“Yes. You mentioned how you had to move out and I couldn’t help but think that—I—forget it, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“What?”

She had paused. “How crazy would it be? Like—Even in New York we had to get rid of the other room because—“

“Yes but—This is months—“

She paused, “right.”

“I mean—I would love to,” he admitted. “We could—I dunno, waking up to you every morning sounds like a dream come true.”

She only smiled shyly.

“But no, it’s stupid right? Uh—should we go for something to eat?”

“Yeah—“

“I—no—I actually did mean it,” he confessed. “I do mean it, it wasn’t the heat of the moment or whatever.”

“You’re asking me to move in with you?” She questioned. As if trying to make him realize what he was really offering.

“Yes, I am,” he had said firmly. “I—just think about the perks we would have.”

“Oh, no, I know about those—“she sassed, chuckling slightly.

“Like—we could drive together to set all the time and you could—Uh, there’s this room that you could use to write? Yes—and uh, we don’t even have to be on the same room, when James leaves you can take the room he was sleeping in.”

She was amused, and watched him with a smirk, “so, roommates? Is that where we are standing now?”

“No—But if you think it’s soon—“

“It is soon,” she pointed out. “But when have we ever—been good with any timing in our relationship?”

He chuckled nervously, “true—But I mean—if it’s too soon then we don’t have to sleep on the same bed.”

She only watched him.

They did go to a drive thru, and stayed quiet again. Tom had been so nervous about it. And he knew y/n didn’t believe him that he actually was offering it to her.

“So, want to be my roommate?” He offered as he’d drove home, they had stayed at the car, sitting on the trunk, probably because neither of them wanted to face everyone in the house yet.

“I—have been thinking about it,” she admitted. “But—being honest.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think we could stay in separate rooms,” she recalled. “I—I mean—“

“Why—not?”

“Tom.”

“I—I—it’s cause, I know it’s soon but that way you don’t have to find another place, and—“

“No, no—I—like the idea but—“

“Yes?”

“But… Are you seriously offering being… roommates?”

He coughed, “Roommates who kiss occasionally.”

She rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh.”

“Look I… I don’t know, I… Ideally, you could move in and we’d be sharing a room,” he hesitated.

“So coupley,” she joked.

“I thought we… were that?” He questioned.

She gave him a smile, “Well, yes, that’s why I figured we can’t be in separate rooms, and honestly even if we were I know I’d crawl my way to you.”

He watched her with curiosity, as if he couldn’t quite understand why she was asking if he was sure. He was, and it didn’t matter if they moved in or not, she was his home, as cliché as it may sound. And it was exciting, though a bit scary, he was sure of it.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he grinned. “Why-wouldn’t I be?”

The sun had posed on her lashes as she dedicated him a very shy smile. Tom wasn’t scared anymore. Though they’d started in a very cheerful spring and ended in New York for a very nice summer, the autumn was now their very best. A breeze made her hair fly, and they kept their way, Tom could only smile at the way the sun made its way through her face, as if it was made to shine on her.

Tom knew they had to still mend each other’s hearts, delicately. But they had each other for so, and the future looked bright. Just like the sun in her face.

Y/N opened the door to the apartment, and Tom feared just a little, that their incredible drea would tumble down if Tim was there. He… wasn’t.

Was it selfish to think that he somehow knew y/n would eventually come back to him? Was it that selfish to have that feeling so strong? He had thought about it, all night. A love so stubborn that they’d find a way to each other, even pretend to hate just to have a reason to talk to each other. Maybe they were young and knew nothing about love and it was stupid, but they knew everything about each other.

He knew they’d be able to talk about the rain, they’d danced enough under it to know they would see it bittersweet. Maybe it wasn’t selfish to think she’d come back, because he knew he would, too.

Y/N walked in and stared at the couch, curiously. There were a few clothes here and there.

“What?” Tom asked.

“I didn’t see the car,” she pointed out. She headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, getting out two beers, handing him one, “I guess they’re not here… the place is…” She shook her head as she frowned. “Nothing.”

He knew it meant something, but if she didn’t want to share it then it meant she didn’t want him to know. He didn’t push it.

He followed after her into her room, he sat on the bed and looked around. Her room was so… her. She always managed to make things hers, as if she had this mystical touch to transform everything into beautiful things. He always wondered how she did it, how she managed to turn the not so nice apartment into something liveable.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t broken up with him, because she’d even turn her heartbreak into something beautiful.

There was something beautiful in them, fragile things often tend to be the most expensive and the things you care for the most. He looked at the flowers, dried out now but decorative. Pretty.

Her camera, some writings, polaroids. She was looking through her clothes, and Tom only remembered when she was packing back for New York. But she had boxes now.

He beamed as he then walked through her room, he could still smell the perfume from the flowers hanging. All of them were yellow, or some tone near yellow. She had maps, also, with some places circled. He saw her notebook that she took to set, the script with scribbles and his name circled. Flowers sketched around it, he smiled.

But there was a noise heard outside, a laugh?

Both Tom and y/n frowned and tried to peek through the door, and then a view they had not expected. Emma’s laughter echoed through the apartment as she made her way to the kitchen, topless or her bare back gave away that impression, with Harry following right behind wearing only a pair of boxers, harmonizing his laughter with his, as he ran to her and hugged her from behind, kissing her bare neck.

Both y/n and Tom widened their eyes as they turned to each other, with surprise. Tom quickly rushed to close the door, Y/N did the same as they quietly closed her bedroom door. And as soon as they had, they both tried not to laugh.

“Oh my god,” both of them whispered, red from embarrassment, still trying to contain their laughter.

“What the fuck?” Tom asked, happy for his brother, but also very uncomfortable.

She snorted, “I don’t know,” she answered quietly. “Oh my god?”

“Do you think they fucked?” Tom asked.

“That’s your brother!” She playfully smacked his arm, giggling. “But… Oh my god, they totally did.”

“Oh for fucking sure they did.”

“That’s why Harry wasn’t—oh my god?”

“I… oh my god,” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I saw her boobs,” Y/N laughed, a bit too loud and Tom quickly covered her mouth.

“Shut up, idiot,” He said. “They’re like fucking deers, they’ll be startled!”

Y/N couldn’t stop giggling so instead she buried into his chest, expecting the shirt to cover the sound.

“I… Okay, but…” Tom smirked. “Do you think they pulled a ‘Tom and y/n’ and just…?”

“I mean,” she chuckled. “It’s an effective method.

Tom chuckled. “He fucking judged us yesterday—?”

“Yes but I guess he saw us and went: huh that worked for them?”

Tom cackled. “I can’t believe Emma would give in—“

“Oh, so you—“she frowned. “Emma wouldn’t but I would?”

Tom knew he had fucked up, as he often does, cause he’s a man and an idiot. “Shit—No—I didn’t.”

“Am I that easy to persuade?” She asked.

“No—I don’t mean it, like that, I just mean that—“

“That Emma wouldn’t be up for makeup sex but I would?”

“You have—been up for—,” he stated. “Look—I didn’t—“

She chuckled, “so you think you are in control of it?” She pointed out.

“Psh, I know you can’t resist me, darling.”

She smirked, “Tommy, please.”

He gulped, “I—okay, no I’m not but I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Fine, you can do whatever you want to me, I give in.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Harry!” And a giggle was heard from outside.

Tom closed his eyes. “Wait—Please—please tell me they’re not going to—Go for it, again.”

Y/N looked up. “I—I—Hope not?” She was scared.

“Are we trapped?” Tom asked.

Y/n chuckled, “seems like we are.”

“Great,” Tom sighed as he plopped on the bed. “Do you think she—forgave him?”

“Shut up, you’re an idiot,” they heard Emma yell.

Y/N listened and nodded before sitting beside him, handing him his beer “Dunno, but did you hear? Poor thing she’s bloody in love with him.”

“She called him an idiot,” Tom pointed out, confused..

Y/N chuckled to herself, watching him comically, she smirked before drinking from her beer, “I know, dumbass.”

Tom frowned, “So, she is mad right?”

“Oh my god,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m—Oh.”

He was an idiot.

Tom, even if he would not dare to say it out loud was slightly jealous of his brother. In a weird way. In a way that Tom aspired to be the most adorable couple and Harry and Emma had always been 1st on that place.

Tom knew Harry and Emma specialized on being adorable, hence why Harry would not stand Tom and y/n.

They were such different couples. But there were a lot of similarities, Harry and y/n were very alike, very reserved. Tom and Emma were also very alike, so open and so cheerful.

But Harry and Emma had more in common, they were very different in the way they approached things, which often came as a blessing and more often than not, it was not a blessing. They were so stubborn.

Which was the difference with y/n and Tom who were so different, y/n was so into her world, calmly escaping in films, music, clothing, pretty things. While Tom escaped with the gym, golf and parties.

Y/N loved quiet, Tom loved loud and yet.

They were there, locked in y/n’s room and though there probably were a million other things to do, they both laid down with their feet resting against the wall. Trying to ignore Harry and Emma who god knows what they were doing. Talking about everything and nothing at all.

Hands playing with each other’s hands.

“No, but like—Mr. Darcy is just—“y/n sighed, dramatically. “He is a dream come true.”

Tom chuckled, “He’s emotionally unavailable.”

“Yes, he is an idiot,” y/n pointed out, “which—of course , it makes sense I’d fall in love with him.”

“I don’t understand why—Like, okay, the actor is handsome but—“

“Oh my god Thomas, no,” she interrupted. “I mean yes but it’s the story.”

Tom laughed. “The story?”

“It’s enemies to lovers,” she said as if it was obvious enough already.

It’s fair to point out now, Tom was very dumb. “What?” He proved it with that.

“I—“She chuckled. “Tommy, okay—So it’s—enemies to lovers who love each other but they don’t give in because of their misconceptions of each other.”

“Yeah, it’s in the title—pride and prejudice,” he remarked. “So what? Why do you love it so much?”

Y/N looked at him as if she was reconsidering every life choice she’d ever made. “I—It’s ironic, even, Thomas.”

“What is?”

“What were we before we dated?”

“Sad?”

“I—“she chuckled. “No—I mean.”

“What?”

“We were enemies, Thomas.”

Tom then realized how stupid he was. He closed his eyes as he finally made the realization. “Oh.”

“Yes—Oh, dumbass.”

“But—Okay, I thought we would be more like Mr Bingley and Jane”

She laughed, softly. “Please, you’re not nearly as adorable and you were just as emotionally unavailable to me half your life.”

“I was—Okay but like—I—I thought.”

“No, those two out there? They’re Bingley and Jane.”

“Oh, makes sense...so, you and I are Mr. Darcy and Lizzie?”

“No, we are idiots.”

Tom nudged her. “Yes, idiot but I meant—“

“Hm are we?”she questioned.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is so,” Tom smirked. “I love you most ardently.”

“You have bewitched me body and soul,” she proclaimed.

“I think we are like them, even better,” he grinned.

“No, I love you but no, we are not,” she smiled.“However, I do wonder how Jane and Bingley are doing.”

Tom laughed. “I am pretty sure we are good to go out, are you ready to go? Packed enough for some days at least?”

“Yeah, almost,” y/n said as she stood up after kissing his cheek.

Tom watched her, “what did you and Sam talk about?”

Y/N paused, “Stuff.”

So she didn’t want to tell him, why? Tom coughed, “Uh, but are you okay?”

“He… just made the type of questions Sam usually makes, you know, the one that… makes you think” y/n said and then took a deep breath.

“Oh, those are… dangerous,” Tom pointed out.

She turned to him,“I know-We agreed on talking, but let me just figure this one out and then I can tell you.”

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“No, not you,” she said.

“Someone should?”

She chuckled, “I… No, but… It’s just…”

Tom only watched, still nervously and anxiously sitting on her bed.

She smiled at him and dropped what she was doing, she walked over to him and wrapped her hands around him, “trust me, you don’t have to worry,” and she kissed the top of his head.

Y/N picked up some of her stuff, as she’d walked out, she made sure neither Harry or Emma were around, they did not have to know they were there. Tom followed after helping her with some more stuff. But just as they were making their way, two doors opened, Emma’s and the front door.

And then the flat was too crowded.

Too crowded.

Tim had walked in with Cherry following behind, stopping abruptly as they’d seen the other two couples. Emma was probably debating whether to watch the couple who had been already inside or the one just coming in.

Emma felt this one familiar feeling, like she could hear sirens and she could see the red fire burning all the flat, like when she’d seen her own engagement party tumble down. Her skin scorched as the flames grew stronger.

Harry felt it, too. Glass shattered for him, and now if he walked any further, he would shatter. Both of them were tired of this. Harry didn’t want to feel this fragile but he couldn't help it.

Everyone remained frozen, as if they knew they were in a minefield and any further movement would break them all apart. Tom’s only instinct was to reach for y/n’s arm, as if he was protecting her. He only looked at her, trying to figure out what exactly was going through her mind.

Y/N’s expression was very hard to read, but she gripped on tight to the box she was holding. Her skin was blazing, too, Tom could tell. Was she angry? Disappointed? Had her heartbreak come back?

Was she mad at him or Tim? Or Cherry? Her sight was focused on those last two. Her breathing was fractured.

Everyone remained completely still.

Waiting for someone to shatter the utter and raging silence still lingered in the room.

Tom was the most scared one. But Tom only glared at Tim, whichever his intentions with Cherry were, were probably not good. And he was angry not only for y/n, but for Cherry. Tom was well aware of the power Tim held with vulnerable people and Tom could tell Cherry would be vulnerable right now.

Tim opened his mouth but nothing could come out, he glared back at Tom. Tom tried to fight the urge to punch Tim in the face. Because probably Tim was judging y/n and Tim would probably try and persuade y/n into thinking this was a bad idea.

Tim eyed the box up and down, then looked at y/n.

“Please, for the love of god, do it somewhere else, whatever the fuck you’re doing, don’t do it here, don’t ruin my day,” Emma finally spoke, out loud. It’s fair to point out, they were dressed now. Fully dressed. Tom assumed they would go out.

Harry only glanced at Tom, as if warning him to listen to Emma.

Tom sighed.

Tim glared at Emma.

The next movement was made by y/n. She only walked past Tim and Cherry, ignoring them.

Tom was… surprised.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Cherry’s voice had barely come out of her mouth, as if each word had physically pained her.

Y/N stopped, glared at Tim and then turned to Cherry. “Sure.”

No one had expected that from her. Especially Tim, he thought y/n would have only ignored her and just escaped. Tim didn’t know this, but y/n didn’t blame Cherry.

“Not fucking with this,” Emma dragged Harry out the apartment, they didn’t fucking need this drama. And they wouldn’t deal with it. She snatched the car keys from Timmy and kept dragging Harry. “Good luck,” she warned to y/n.

“Bye,” Harry whispered led to them.

Y/N watched them, Tom swore he saw her smile a little, but it was quickly erased as she turned to cherry. “So?”

Cherry blinked, also baffled by y/n’s positive answer.

“Right now?” Y/N asked.

Tom only watched them.

Cherry gulped, “Yeah, yeah--”

“Here?” Y/N questioned.

“I... Don’t know,” Cherry said, but she was speaking carefully. Terrified of y/n. Not that her cousin would be harsh on her, but y/n’s blank expression was enough to scare her off.

“Your mum’s cafe is only a few blocks away, we could walk there,” Y/N suggested and then walked back to the flat, leaving the box on the counter. She gave a reassuring nod to Tom.

Tom wasn’t scared of Cherry, it’s only fair to note. Tom was actually calm; they could talk, but he wondered what Tim’s twisted mind had planned this time. Why the hell had Tim brought her here?

Tim coughed, “are you guys sure?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be sure, Timothée?” Y/N questioned. “It’s my cousin, I should speak to her. None of your fucking business.”

Tim frowned, she’d never spoken to him like that.

Tom smirked, just lightly.

“Of course,” Tim hissed. “But—“

“But what?” Y/N snapped. “You’re good to go, Cherry?” Cherry watched between everyone, she then directed a single glance to Tom. She was hurt, and Tom recognized that face. Not from Cherry, Cherry had the same face y/n had when he’d shown up at her house to give her the yellow flowers. The same damn face, so hurt.

“Do you—“Tim pushed.

“Oh my god, fucking leave her alone,” Tom interrupted again. “Can’t you for once fucking leave her alone?”

Tim scoffed, “you’re one to talk?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I—I’m not even going to—“ she left, Cherry carefully followed behind.

Tim seemed stressed.

Tom was angry, he was about to go back into y/n’s room, when Tim spoke again, “Why the fuck does she get back to you when you’re always the shittiest to her?”

“I’m not going to fucking argue this with you,” Tom snapped. “I don’t even want to bloody ask why the fuck you brought Cherry here?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know—?”

“No, fucking no, I dont bloody care and you know what? Also fucking leave Cherry alone I know your thing is going after vulnerable girls or whatever the fuck but—“

“I’m not—“

“Fucking stay away from them, both,” Tom warned. “Cherry doesn’t need a manipulative fucker like you.”

Tim watched him with repulsion, “You do realize you hurt them both by doing exactly the fucking same? You were a piece of shit—“

“And are you fucking taking advantage of that? Are you going to bloody antagonize me again?” Tom barked.

“You bloody antagonize yourself!” Tim yelled at him. “Like are you fucking serious? You really just fuck everything up, it’s so incredibly stupid. I am really just impressed by it.”

“I know I fuck up, but I own it! You have no business in my relationship with y/n—“

“No, I know that—“

“And I don’t want you to fucking come close to her, You never bloody admit what you fucking do, you just fucking paint yourself as the hero when you know damn well you are manipulating them, and you are doing the same thing with Cherry?” Tom blurted, he knew that if y/n was gullible and vulnerable she didn’t even come near to Cherry. And Tom did care for Cherry, in his own way, and Tom did not want to see it again, Tim being painted as the hero.

“Doing what?” Tim had his posture hard enough, arms crossed with his eyes burning with rage. He did not stand him.

“For fuck’s sake, you don’t even see it?”

“What I see is you slept with y/n’s cousin and fucking tricked her again, both of them,” Tim snarked. “You were not here. You always come back when she’s doing better—You we’re not here when she was crying, she was so destroyed, yet again.”

“Ah, yes I was living rainbows and butterflies,” Tom rolled his eyes.

Tim could not believe Tom dared to be sarcastic. “You made a fucking mess yourself, the script wasn’t even that bad for starters and you were the one to ruin Emma’s engagement, only because you fucking assumed y/n loved Harry. Which is the one most stupid thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Tim continued.

Tom only clenched his jaw.

“You decided to make everything big as you always fucking do and not talk, because you—“

“How many words did she not get from you? Did you not bloody tell her I am her—what was it—perfidy?”

Tim stayed quiet.

“I’m not saying I wasn’t shit but you painted me as a—monster, yes that’s the word she used. I admit I broke her heart, but you don’t bloody know a thing about me and y/n—“Tom was fuming.

“I didn’t have to.” But Tim seemed cold now, and he was hearing it,

“Why don’t you bloody realize it? Yes I’ve hurt y/n, but you’ve hurt her too much, too. She feels so guilty, you’ve managed to make her feel guilty for not loving you—That's why she does all of this—I—I can’t deal with this, there’s no bloody point. And I meant it, stay away from Cherry.”

And Tim wasn’t in love, but he did fall, and until then he finally broke. Had he been breaking y/n all this time?

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scfttwice · 3 years

Text

lines and squiggles

> chaeyoung likes doodling “temporary tattoos” on jina. fans jump to conclusions every time they catch sight of the drawings.

jina adored chaeyoung's drawings. the latter had her own unique art style that distinguished her works from those of others. sometimes when jina saw chaeyoung doodling something, she'd eagerly sit by her to watch, or try to join in and draw something as well while asking chaeyoung for pointers. and every time jina did so, chaeyoung was always happy to guide her.

jina also loved chaeyoung's tattoos; some of them were designed by chaeyoung herself, after all. two out of the ones that weren't her design—the arrow heart under her right ear and the flowers on her left fingers—were designed by jina (and modified by chaeyoung), an honor which chaeyoung offered and jina gladly accepted. during some of their few lazy evenings, when the maknaes would do nothing in particular except lie around in their dorm's living room, jina would find herself absentmindedly tracing and admiring the tattoos on chaeyoung's skin while she busied herself with her phone.

during their 'more & more' promotions, as twice were waiting in a waiting room for their turn to pre-record their performance in a music show, chaeyoung spent the time sketching in her notebook. when jina noticed this, she was almost immediately at chaeyoung's side.

“whatcha drawing there, chae?” she asked, her question accompanied by a curious head tilt. chaeyoung grinned as she looked up at jina and showed her her notebook. drawn all over the page were various fruits and drinks—strawberries, grapes, watermelons, soda cans, and cocktails, to name a few—all in chaeyoung's signature style.

“you're such a great artist, chae,” jina complimented as she continued to admire the drawings, eyes scanning over the same page repeatedly. “you can make any lines and squiggles look like a masterpiece.”

“hey, your art has been improving too,” chaeyoung reminded her. “still, i'll never be as creative and artistic as you,” jina countered with a subtle pout.

chaeyoung only shook her head slowly in amusement as a response, before she gently took jina's hand and rested it on the table. grabbing her pink, purple, and red markers, she began drawing little flowers on jina's wrist. it made jina smile, out of both happiness and feeling ticklish.

chaeyoung had drawn on jina's skin many times before, mostly on her hands and arms. although she'd get ticklish every single time, jina loved it when chaeyoung did so. “it's like getting a temporary tattoo,” jina had remarked once. “designed by someone close to me, so it's much more precious.”

“will you ever stop being a scaredy cat and get a real tattoo?” chaeyoung had asked her upon hearing her comment. jina immediately shook her head. “no way. i admit, i'm way too scared for that.”

when twice were called to record, jina performed with her members on the stage just as they had rehearsed, having had completely forgotten about the flowers drawn in marker ink around her wrist. it wasn't until after they were done recording and were back in their waiting room did jina catch a glimpse of the colors on her wrist.

“oh no, i forgot about this,” she muttered to herself as she gently rubbed her wrist. “i hope it wasn't caught on camera.”

back in the dorm later that night, as the school meal club were having dinner together, the flowers on jina's wrist still hadn't washed out. not that she was complaining though, she loved them.

“uh, jina,” dahyun, who had been scrolling on her phone, called out while eyeing jina's “temporary tattoo”. “you might wanna take a look at this.”

jina turned her attention to dahyun, who showed her her phone screen. it displayed an article posted not even half an hour ago, talking about how fans online were in a heated debate over whether jina had gotten a tattoo or not. the article made sure to provide a zoomed-in picture of jina's wrist from their music show performance earlier, which clearly showed the colorful inked flowers.

scrolling down, jina found that even the comments section of the article itself was filled with heated discussions over the matter.

“i think jina really did get a tattoo this time”

“no way, i'm sure it's just chaeyoung's drawing again”

“it's exactly like the previous issue about jina's airport picture!! the hearts spotted on her arm weren't actual tattoos!!!!”

“the flowers....it looks like a real tattoo....”

“maybe it's just make up for this stage?”

jina let out a huff of frustration after skimming through the comments of arguing netizens. “looks like i'll have to give an explanation...again.”

chaeyoung was also reading the article and comments over jina's shoulder. she gave a sheepish grin as she turned her gaze to jina. “i guess i shouldn't draw on you right before we have to record.”

“even when we're not recording anything,” tzuyu chimed in. “our fans still manage to find chaeyoung's drawings on jina in any pictures.”

“they have a really keen eye when it comes to idols,” dahyun added in a lighthearted tone.

jina sighed. “yeah, that's true. i'll start a short vlive later, to clear things up.”

she stayed true to her words. she washed up after dinner and went back to sit in the living room, turning on a vlive on her phone titled “talking about my tattoo”.

in hindsight, the vlive title was a huge click bait, but at least it'd attract the attention of more people to watch. it would get the word out faster.

“hi, everyone,” jina greeted once there were enough people in, waving using the same hand that had the flowers. “i'm sure many of you are wondering about this,” she said while holding up her wrist.

“i actually came on vlive tonight solely to address this matter. i saw an article earlier, discussing the rumor that i've gotten a tattoo according to pictures of me taken during our music show performance today. but actually, it's not real. chaeyoung drew on me again, like she had drawn the hearts on my arm a few months ago. that picture of me also went viral and rumors circulated. so this time i wanted to quickly explain to everyone that i don't have a tattoo.”

the chat section of the vlive was full of differing reactions. some fans were disappointed, some were relieved, and there were even some who boasted about knowing the tattoo was fake from the start. jina stayed on vlive for a little bit longer to continue entertaining her fans, before she wished everyone a good night just after she had passed the 15 minute mark.

once the vlive was off, chaeyoung poked her head into the living room. “you're not asleep yet?” jina looked up at her and asked, a soft smile on her lips, which chaeyoung returned with a wider one. she walked over to jina and sat next to her on the floor. “i couldn't help but overhear your vlive,” chaeyoung said. “you shouldn't have told them the truth so soon. it would've been fun to watch them make funny theories.”

jina chuckled. “true, but i'd rather not let them make a big fuss over it.” chaeyoung nodded. “you're right.”

“so now that you cleared the rumors up, can i...?” chaeyoung trailed off, continuing her question by holding up an orange marker pen while smiling cheekily. jina laughed when she understood what it was that chaeyoung wanted. granting chaeyoung's wish, she held out her arm to her.

jina watched in amusement as chaeyoung happily doodled little paw prints along her lower arm.

63 notes · View notes

novelconcepts · 4 years

Note

Modern AU where Jamie gets a tongue piercing and Dani has, uh, feelings about that

It is rare, Dani Clayton believes, that a single action can define a life. Rare, unlikely, prone only to situations where the action is life-or-death in and of itself, she believes. Most others are a matter of small steps leading down a long road.

Most.

In the event of dumping Edmund O’Mara not three months before their wedding was meant to take place, those steps start to look a whole lot less small.

In the event of dumping Eddie, informing him--and his mother, and her mother shortly thereafter--that she’d done so because she didn’t love him that way, that she wasn’t sure she could love any man that way, and wasn’t entirely certain she was willing to try any longer to convince herself otherwise, those steps start to look much more like a leap.

Off a cliff.

Into thin air.

If you’re going to do it, she tells herself grimly, might as well do it the right way. Which, in some cases, might mean a fresh dye job, a flight to a distant country, the making of a wild and unreasonable purchase. In this particular case, it means looking what it means to be Danielle Clayton in the eye, turning on her heel, and doing absolutely anything else.

The club? Packed. The music? Aggressive. Dani?

Several shots in, not nearly as drunk as she’d like, and completely out of her depth.

Even so, there’s a lot about this experience she actually finds herself enjoying. The music, though slamming into the side of her head like a vaguely-melodic sledgehammer, is easy to dance to. The dark atmosphere of the place means she doesn’t feel as though anyone is getting a chance to really stare--or, if they are, they’re staring for good reasons. Reasons she’s never allowed herself to entertain before now.

It is, after all, the right kind of club.

If she thinks about that fact, she’s going to turn and head right back out the door, and the line had been way too long for such a casual surrender. The only choice, Dani understands, is simply not to think--not to let her nerves get the better of her, not to allow adrenaline to push her into flight mode. Not this time.

Adrenaline, instead, becomes the thing she closes her fists around and twists to suit her needs. The thing to act as lightning in her bones, charging every inch of a woman who spent nearly thirty years play-acting in someone else’s show. The drinks help, wearing away the part of her that says she doesn’t fit here, doesn’t belong here, might have been wrong all along in telling Eddie she couldn’t do it anymore. The dancing, too, makes her feel better--makes her feel like someone new, someone with all the shine of her mother’s expectation scrubbed away. Someone who can throw her arms in the air, swivel her hips, laugh with delirious joy.

Flirt, even.

She can’t remember the last time she flirted with someone on purpose, but she’s certainly doing it now--with one young woman in particular. She wasn’t the first to dance with Dani--there have been a truly stunning number of women dancing with Dani, in fact, making her feel at once special and like running straight out of this club--but she is the one who has taken to it most naturally, somehow. Her eyes are bright, her curls tied back from her face, her smile the kind of charming Dani has never allowed herself to look at too closely before tonight.

They haven’t exchanged a single word, and there’s something remarkable about that--about how easily the woman seems to read her body language, tailoring her distance according to Dani’s comfort. Unlike several of the others, this woman did not immediately push against Dani’s body, too warm, arms slinking around her waist. She did not attempt to pull Dani into herself, her hips setting a theme for the evening against Dani’s better judgement. This woman, instead, had only reached out a single hand, eyebrow arched--a silver bar punched through had caught the light and Dani’s attention at the same time--and had waited.

Dani hadn’t quite been able to resist. Something about the woman’s grin, just this side of roguish, just this side of dangerous, had held too great an appeal. She had moved with a confidence Dani couldn’t imagine possessing, a swagger in her walk Dani hadn’t been able to look away from, and Dani thought, They’re pretty, but she is unreal.

She looks at the woman now, at her green-gray eyes and the shade of abs beneath a cropped tank top. There are tattoos, she notes--a vine of some kind rising from the low ride of her jeans, a pattern of tiny flowers traced around her left wrist. Dani trails her fingers along those flowers now, letting her hand slide recklessly up the woman’s arm in time to the twisting beat, and wonders what else she’s hiding beneath her jacket, her jeans, her boots.

She’s never in her life allowed herself to wonder what might lurk beneath a woman’s clothes. Never in her life let herself look at the sweat skidding down a woman’s neck and wondered what it might taste like, were she to bury her face against soft skin.

The woman is smiling, she notices with a thread of embarrassment--but it’s a good smile, as Dani wraps loose fingers around her upper arm and urges her closer. A good smile, one which teases, but doesn’t mock. This woman, with four piercings in one ear, with hands that smooth around Dani’s hips only when Dani edges in close, with eyes that watch Dani like she’s the only person in the room, is a marvel.

Who are you, Dani asks herself, almost trembling with the simple delight of this woman’s hand twirling her around, this woman laughing when Dani slips an arm around her neck and twists brave fingers into her hair. Who are you, doing this with a stranger, with a woman, in a place like this?

Happy. A single word, enormous and bright. She’s happy, with the song under her skin, with this woman moving against her like they were cut of a single cloth. Like she understands, more than anything, Dani’s need to jam a lifetime of feeling electric into a single night.

She kisses the woman first. It feels almost like a game of chicken, gazing into her eyes, letting her hand settle between jacket and tank top. Almost like a dare, letting her fingers dig into the woman’s shirt, pushing her nearer. Almost like a wish, her eyes skimming from the heat of the stranger’s gaze to her lips and back again.

She kisses her, and wonders if it was always supposed to feel like this. The woman’s arm around her waist soft and strong, the woman’s lips parting for her like the next beat of a conversation--and there is something hard and warm to the kiss, a gentle curve of metal beneath her tongue. I am, she thinks dizzily, kissing a strange woman in a gay club, a woman with a tongue piercing, a woman who is kissing me like she’s never wanted to do anything else.

She kisses this stranger, eyes closed, breath quickening as the woman’s hips push against her own, and she thinks, It wasn’t like this with him. Not once.

Happy, as the woman leans back just enough to breathe, her forehead slick against Dani’s. Happy, as the woman’s hand trails up her neck gently enough to leave shivers in the wake of her fingertips. Happy, as the woman cups her jaw, thumb pressing just hard enough to make Dani sigh, kissing her with slow, hot wonder.

She wonders what they look like to the others, to the women who had twisted and twirled away from her winces, her apologetic smiles, her tiny shakes of the head. How must she look now, in the arms of a woman she suddenly can’t get close enough to, her kiss hungry and hopeful, her hands digging into reckless curls.

She hears herself panting against the woman’s ear as her head bows, as her lips trace the edge of Dani’s jaw, her kiss smooth on Dani’s neck. She’s gripping the woman’s hair, pushing her face into Dani’s throat with shameless excitement, and she hears herself say, “I’m--”

The woman raises her head, meets her eyes, shakes her head once. Dani’s heart sinks--but the woman is taking her by the hand, pulling her off the dance floor, away from the rapid-fire pulse of music.

This isn’t me, Dani thinks, her heart in her throat. This isn’t me, as the woman guides her past the bar, past piles of writhing, necking strangers, past the line to the bathroom. This isn’t me, as the woman guides her through the back exit, out into a brick alley and the warmth of a June night.

“Easier,” the woman says, “to hear out here. Hope that's all right.”

Dani sways, the thunder of the music and the cacophony of other people replaced by a muted ringing in her ears. The woman’s voice is soft, accented, skipping a little with breathless energy.

Dani opens her mouth, uncertain of what to say--her name, maybe, or this isn’t me, or I’ve never-- “You pierced your tongue.”

The woman’s eyes widen, a laugh rolling out of her like summer rain, and Dani feels herself go hot with embarrassment. “I did, yeah. Years back. You, ah. You like it?”

Not trusting herself, Dani only nods once, too fast to look natural. The woman takes her hands, which Dani realizes she has been wringing against the front of her skirt in nervous anticipation, and sidles closer.

“Would it be easier,” the woman says, close enough to kiss, close enough for Dani to count the colors in her dancing eyes, “if I didn’t ask your name?”

Dani bites her lip. No, she thinks, and yes, and-- “I don’t know.”

“S’all right.” She believes her, this woman who speaks like she’s already got all the answers to a test Dani’s only just signed up to take. “We don’t have to. Can just be a pleasant memory, if you prefer.”

Dani shakes her head sharply, already leaning in again, and the woman tastes different out here. Better, somehow, without the fuzz of other people pressing close, without the tang of a sweaty crowd on the air. The woman tastes of new, of excitement, of metal and menthol, and she’s kissing Dani like she doesn’t need a name to cherish her.

If you’re doing the thing, might as well do it right. Her back is against a brick wall, her hands pushing under the woman’s shirt, her head tossed back with the rapture of soft lips at her throat. She hears herself making a low sound through clenched teeth as the woman pulls at her hips, slides a thigh between her legs, pushes up.

“Is there,” she gasps, one hand gripping the woman’s belt loop, one shoved into the woman’s messy hair, “is there somewhere we can--” Because this is new, this is all new and fresh and beautiful, but the idea of letting this woman fuck her against a brick wall is simply too much for a single stab into the dark.

Those eyes look into hers, the woman’s breath hot across her lips, and she almost changes her mind. Almost yanks her back in, almost says it would be enough to ride her thigh in full view of anyone who steps out for a smoke, enough to give her anything she asks for beneath the sparse suburban stars.

“My place isn’t far,” the woman says, her voice husky, and Dani nods, presses her forehead to the stranger’s, exhales shakily.

The walk is quiet, her hand looped into the woman’s, and Dani feels--impossibly--free. Free to hold tighter or let her hand slip away. Free to knock into the woman’s shoulder with her own or balance along the curb as she walks. Free to look at the stars, to look at her feet, to look at the woman’s profile in the glow of the streetlights.

“Dani,” she says. “My name is Dani.”

The woman smiles. “First night out, Dani?”

“That obvious?” She ought to be embarrassed, but the woman’s smile is still a good one. A teasing, gentle, comfortable one.

“No,” the woman says after a moment of what is evidently legitimate consideration. “No, not obvious. Just a feeling.”

The apartment is small, clean, full of potted plants and well-loved blankets. The woman, pushing the door open, ushers Dani inside and stands back as if to say, Go on. Take it in. As if to say, I know what we came here for, but you can still back out. Her hands are in the pockets of her jacket, her posture loose, as though she isn’t thrumming with the impulse to get Dani pinned against another wall.

Dani can’t quite relate.

“Do you do this often?” she asks, as she moves into the woman’s arms again, as she slides her hands into the woman’s hair, liking the weight of her head cupped in Dani’s palms. The woman smiles almost sheepishly.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you know their names?” She’s kissing the edge of soft lips, feeling the woman sigh, feeling her head turn in search of Dani. There is power here, she thinks, unlike anything she’s ever felt. Power, and assertion, and desire.

And laughter, when the woman says, “Not usually. No.”

“Honest,” Dani says approvingly, aware she’s still flirting, aware of the caress of the other woman’s hands around the back of her skirt. Her hips press forward once, and the woman grins.

“Never tell ‘em mine, either.”

“Because you don’t want them to come calling in the morning,” Dani guesses. The woman shakes her head.

“The kind of woman I bring home rarely wants that. Easier on everyone, to keep it to skin.”

Her fingertips are tracing beneath Dani’s shirt, a light pattern up her back. Dani feels her brush the clasp of her bra almost carelessly, not even trying to unhook and remove it, and shivers. There is a warmth to the idea that this woman, for all her brazen want, is just as interested in this conversation as in getting Dani naked.

“What if I wanted to know?” she breathes, her lips barely brushing the woman’s, watching her eyes flutter in response. “Your name. What you do when you’re not bringing strange women to bed.”

“Do you?” An honest question, she thinks, not a challenge. Strong fingers stroke down her back, tucking beneath the waistband of her skirt, resting without further pressure. Dani isn’t sure anyone has ever held her like this, standing in the living room of an apartment, waiting for her to take the lead.

Strike that: she’s very certain no one has done this. Very certain she’d remember the intimacy of it, of hanging suspended between a kiss taken and a yes given.

“Please,” she says, leaning back just enough to look at the woman with clear eyes. That smile again, tilting crooked on pink lips.

“Jamie. It’s Jamie.”

It’s enough, Dani decides, just to know that much. Just to know this woman, who is letting Dani kiss her, letting Dani push the jacket off her shoulders, letting Dani repeat the name against her lips, is willing to give Dani this small gift. She doesn’t have to. There’s nothing saying a one-night-stand requires names exchanged, a look beyond the curtain. Dani’s never done this before, but she’s certain of that much.

A gift, it certainly is, and she gives herself over to it gladly. Likes the way Jamie’s kisses increase in intensity, her hands roaming under Dani’s shirt, her voice coiling into a groan when Dani experimentally rolls her tongue past Jamie’s teeth. The brush of metal elicits an unexpected heat in her, matched only by the way Jamie says her name in question as she guides the t-shirt up over her head.

Just knowing her name has a place on this woman’s tongue is remarkable. Just tasting the woman’s name in her own mouth--two simple syllables extended in a surprised moan when Jamie presses her toward the bed, follows her down with seamless grace, her body soft and warm and willing--is remarkable. She hears herself repeat it for the simple joy of watching Jamie shiver, of feeling Jamie’s kiss grow hotter, her mouth sliding across Dani’s each time as though trying to swallow down the sound of her own name.

The world has never been quite so vibrant as in this tiny apartment, under the warm glow of a single lamp with Jamie’s shirt pulling up her body, Jamie’s jeans unzipped under her shaking hand. The world has never offered quite so much sensation as with Jamie blanketing her, Jamie’s hands removing her bra, pushing up her skirt, mapping along the spread of her thighs. She presses up into Jamie’s kiss, hands restless on Jamie’s skin, and wonders why it took so long to open this door.

There are more tattoos, she finds with delirious pleasure, and Jamie rolls over to allow her the freedom to inspect each. Jamie, breathing shallowly under her kiss as she traces the bracelet of flowers with the tip of her tongue. Jamie, arching into her hand as she explores the roses stamped across her ribs. Jamie, uttering a rough cry when she bites gently at the vine flourishing along her hipbone.

More tattoos, and more soft skin, and more of Jamie’s easy, eager interest. Jamie, who rolls her over and slides the skirt off her hips, following it down with a path of long, slow kisses. Jamie, whose tongue works magic across her breasts, down her stomach, hesitating between her legs.

Dani is nodding, and Jamie closes her eyes, presses down with a single sweet kiss that makes her feel as though she might collapse under the weight of its tenderness. It’s too much, she thinks, for this woman who has been pressing her into the mattress with firm, steady want, to be this gentle. For this woman who tells no one her name before taking them to bed, who has metal in her tongue and ink on her skin, to be this kind.

She hears her breath sharpen, hears herself say Jamie’s name again in a voice so unlike her own, it takes her by surprise. She folds a hand across the back of Jamie’s head, pressing her in, urging her to kiss harder, to roll her tongue across the whole of Dani, and still, when Jamie complies, she jumps. Jamie raises her eyes, and Dani pushes her closer still, her heart hammering at the particular look on Jamie’s face. The particular need on Jamie’s face, as she watches, as she flicks her tongue. The metal bar brushes swollen nerves, and Dani makes an undignified noise in her throat that drags a grin across Jamie’s lips.

Oh, Dani thinks distantly. That’s why.

The muscles of her stomach are trembling, the muscles of her legs clutched tight, and still, she can’t tear her gaze from Jamie’s. Can’t stop watching the way Jamie’s lashes flicker against her cheeks, her head bobbing gently between spread legs, her tongue tracing and stroking, pressing and curling. There is something beyond intimacy to the way Jamie’s hands flex against her thighs, her fingers splayed, her thumb stroking up and down in time with her tongue. Something beyond seduction to the way Jamie groans against her, a simple gratification that makes her twitch under Jamie’s kiss.

She winds her fingers tighter in Jamie’s hair, dimly aware she’s pulling, vibrantly aware of Jamie’s mouth wrapped around her. There is no speed, no dire rush, no pressure to come and be done with it. There is only Jamie taking her time, the flat of her tongue trading off with the brush of her lips, her eyes drinking in Dani’s expression all the while.

She knows my name, she thinks with a rush of heat, and then: She told me hers.

She’s using it almost without thinking, one hand across her own mouth, Jamie’s name staining her skin. She rocks harder, urging Jamie deeper, her voice rising as Jamie adds her fingers beneath the coaxing pressure of her tongue.

She knows my name, she thinks again, as Jamie curls deep, as starbursts go off behind her eyes. She told me hers.

Jamie hauls herself back up the mattress, drops down beside her with a contented sigh. Her lips glisten, her expression tinged with pride. “How was--”

Dani grasps her face in both hands, jerks her in for a kiss, their voices mingling in a muffled ring of pleasure. Dani, almost dizzy with the taste of herself in this woman’s mouth, presses a hand between them, pleased to find Jamie as eager for take as she’d been for give.

“I want,” she says, kissing Jamie’s neck, stroking Jamie with nerveless, uncertain fingers, “to make you feel--like that. Like you--”

Jamie makes a sound of agreement, reaches down, covers her hand gently. “Try this,” she offers, and Dani’s eyes roll back at the pressure of fingers guiding her in, at Jamie showing her with a hand that shakes exactly how she likes to be touched. She gazes at Jamie’s face, at her parted lips and tight brow, watching the tension coil, watching her smile give way to soft, repeated sounds of urgency as they work in tandem.

If you’re going to do it, do it the right way, she thinks as Jamie bucks into her hand, as Jamie’s fingers slide away, dragging up her own stomach, leaving Dani to keep up the rhythm. She presses her face onto Jamie’s pillow, lips close to Jamie’s ear, murmuring her name like a melody as Jamie’s breath catches--as Jamie’s hips jerk--as Jamie wraps a hand into her hair and pulls her close to kiss the gasp off her lips.

“I’ve never,” she says, her hand still resting against wet skin, Jamie’s hips twitching every so often as she traces with the tips of her fingers. “Before. With a--”

“Couldn’t tell,” Jamie says. Dani raises an eyebrow in disbelief, and she grins. “Didn’t mind, then.”

“You, uh.” Distracted, she traces a light circle around Jamie, liking the heat of her. Jamie sighs.

“Keep doing that, conversation’s gonna get tricky.”

“You sorry?” Dani asks, letting her fingers still. Jamie turns her head, eyes questioning.

“Sorry for...which part, exactly?”

“Taking me home,” Dani says. “Telling me who you are.”

“Didn’t tell you who I am,” Jamie says. Dani frowns, moves to take her hand back, wondering if she’s somehow read the woman completely wrong--and Jamie reaches down to gently grasp her by the wrist. “I told you my name,” she goes on mildly. “Who I am is a much longer story. One I...haven’t told in a while.”

Dani stretches out beside her, letting her fingers notch comfortably between Jamie’s, the join of their hands resting along Jamie’s stomach. “How long a story?”

“How much time d’you have?” Jamie asks, almost idly. Dani smiles.

“Sort of trying something new, with all of this. I think...that means there are no rules, until I make them.”

“Well,” says Jamie, her voice thick with exhaustion. She’s curling toward Dani, bare skin and vibrant ink and muffled yawn. “Maybe if you’re still interested in the morning? Not much of a cook, but I make an impressive brew.”

She doesn’t say you don’t have to. She doesn’t say we can pretend it never happened. She only presses close into Dani, one hand curling to tuck the hair behind Dani’s ear, her fingers spreading around the back of Dani’s head in a gesture of soft support.

She told me her name, Dani thinks, her heart in her throat as she watches sleep loosen Jamie’s features. I slept with a woman, and she told me her name, and she’s...she’s...

It is rare, she thinks as she lets her head bump Jamie’s, eyes drifting shut. Rare that a single action can define a life. It doesn’t happen often; consequences are small, tricky things. But a single action can certainly start a person walking. Off a cliff. Into thin air.

Or down a road.

#fanfiction #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #the additional prompt with this was 'dani goes on a gay speedrun'#which is just too good to pass up #(also aren't you proud it's not actually 20k. I did a modern AU concisely. ....more or less.)

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myselftalkingtomyself · 4 years

Text

Happy 10th Anniversary, love.

this gif is not mine, all the credits to the owner.

Tommy Shelby x F!reader

summary: The war against the Italians makes your anniversary plans cancelled, but Tommy Shelby surprises you to repair it.

warning: fluffy as hell bc romantic tommy lives in mine mind for free, mention of smut

w/c:1122

A/N: i got inspired by that dinner between tommy and jessie eden in s4. i wasn’t sure about this since the thing with luca started bc of grace and here she doesn’t exist, but here it’s and now i want to make an HC about tommy’s romantic side. english is not my native language, sorry for any mistakes.

The smell of fresh flowers was the first thing that hit your senses by waking up in the morning light. As you opened your eyes, you saw a bouquet of flowers and a small black box under neath an envelope with your name written on the pillow next to yours. You felt a shy smile form on your face as you smelled the flowers and opened the note.

"I left to settle some business and come back early. Charlie picks you up at 8:00 to meet me in his yard. Happy anniversary, love.

Tommy."

Before all the trouble with Luca Changretta starts and forces you and the Shelby family to go back to Small Heath, you were excited to celebrate your 10th anniversary with Tommy. You had already talked and planned with Tommy a trip, like a second honeymoon, but after the letter with the black hand and John's death you didn't mention anything else about it and decided to resume the plans when it was all over. And with all the tension hanging in the air you thought Tommy had forgotten the date.

You supported the flowers and the note back on Tommy's pillow and turned your attention to the velvet box. Inside was the most beautiful and delicate piece of jewellery you've ever seen. It was a silver necklace with a crescent moon shaped pendant encrusted with diamonds. It was simple compared to other jewellery Tommy presented you with, but you had a suspicion of why. One night, you commented on the sunrise tattoo he had on his chest and how you wanted something with a moon to match his sun. Even get a moon tattoo on you. He just laughed.

You got up and tried the necklace in the only mirror nearby. The sunlight hit the moon that rested on your chest and made reflections through the walls of the room. Luckily, you had brought your favourite blue dress that would match your new gift to wear that night. You didn't take off the necklace at any point in the day, eagerly awaiting nightfall.

Charlie arrived on time at 8:00 to pick you up. He offered his arm to accompany you and you accepted him with a smile. "So, what's he up to?"

"I'm not going to spoil the surprise." Charlie responds with a little smile.

He accompanied you to one of the sheds that had the doors closed, the only one that had a yellow light coming out through the entrance cracks. Charlie opened the door and gave you a way into a setting you never thought of seeing in Charlie Strong's yard. Tommy was sitting at a perfectly well-organized dining table, surrounded by several candles and flowers scattered throughout the shed. You walked towards the chair intended for you and noticed the presence of Curly, who pulled chair for you.

"Good evening, Mrs. Shelby" Tommy said before he smoak his cigarette. Tommy loved to call you Mrs. Shelby, probably only you noticed the pride and love that melted in his mouth by saying those words. His eyes leave yours to look at the necklace on your chest and with a small provocative smile, he turns his attention to you once again. "Beautiful. Your necklace is very beautiful too.”

"Thank you, did you like it? My husband gave it to me, he has great taste." Curly spent a few seconds fixing the gramophone while you and Tommy couldn't take their eyes off each other, drinking each other. You didn't used to show affection in front of other people, but you were so absorbed in excitement and impressed by the impromptu surprise dinner that you couldn't help but fall in love once again with Tommy Shelby's romantic side.

"Come on Curly, they want to be alone" You felt your face burn and stared at your hands. Charlie pulled Curly, walking to the exit. You turned to both of them and thanked, still a little embarrassed.

"I thought you forgot." You turned your focus to the other side of the table to find Tommy's face. "I would never forget. I just changed my plans at the last minute. We can't leave Small Heath for safety." You nodded in agreement. It wasn't worth lowering your guard for one night and risking your lives at Luca's mercy, even if you've been waiting for this day for so long.

"Hey" He reached out to touch your hand above the table. "We can travel next year. We have a lifetime of anniversaries to do that." With the war with the Italians going on you weren't so sure of it, but it was better not to mention the fact that night. That night wasn't about mob wars, it was about you two. A night to left the shadow of fear and death that hung over you in the last few weeks aside.

You have recalled some important moments in your relationship over the years; the first date, the first kiss, and obviously your wedding day. Both nervous in case something bad happened, but eager to call each other husband and wife. After finishing the meal, Tommy put on your favourite album to play in the gramophone. He stopped in front of you and reached his hand out in a silent invitation to a dance. Tommy stroked one of yours hands as you brushed your fingertips on the back of his head with the other, the rhythm of your bodies was slow.

"I planned tonight in a different way." Tommy said when he touched your forehead with his.

"Yeah? How?"

"Spending the night at London's best restaurant with a bottle of champagne to celebrate how lucky I am to have you by my side for so long.” He pushed his face away to approach his lips of your ear.

"Then we'd go to a nice hotel room and dance a little until I lay on the bed and finally do what I've been waiting all day to do." Tommy whispered, causing chills down your skin.

"You can still do that." You whispered back. "Here, London or anywhere else, just need to be the two of us, uh?"

He responded with one of the passionate kisses that, of the few loves you had in life, only Tommy was able to give and make your legs falter. The feeling of innocent affection has lost place to desire. His hands, going up and down your body were keys that opened so many doors to sensations that you never thought possible to feel.

"Happy 10th anniversary, Mrs. Shelby." Tommy smiled as he pulled your waist and took you two into the night, back to the little room that has become a refuge for you in recent weeks.

"Happy 10th anniversary, Mr. Shelby."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby headcanons #thomas shelby headcanon

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maira-writes-shit · 3 years

Text

You look cute

Tanizaki Junichirou x Tachihara Michizou

Tattoo parlor x Flower shop AU, meeting, fluff

Junichirou was a very simple person.

He loved his sister, his friends and his job.

He was a florist for one of the best flower shops in town.

Junichirou was currently working on a arrangement for one of their frequent customers. It was a old man that came by every week or so to get a small arrangement for his wife. They had been together for over 50 years now.

The redhead smiled down at the arrangement he just finished.

Their relationship is so sweet...I wish I could have that...

“Tanizaki! You’re back here, right?“

The man in question turned around to see his best friend Atsushi waving at him from the front of the shop.

The redhead nodded and walked out of the back room to the front the shop.

It wasn’t the biggest size wise and it was stacked with plants but it felt as much as home as the little apartment he and Naomi lived in.

„Aku is taking me out on a date. Could you cover my shift for today? Only if you're finished of course!“

„Sure thing, Atsushi! Don’t worry you’ll be fine!“

“Thanks you’re the best!“ the white haired boy then vanished into the back with a big smile on his face.

The older of the two looked at the closing door with a soft smile.

He had sadly been on the receiving end of most of his coworkers rants about this guy he constantly butted heads with but still somehow thought was kind of cute. It actually hadn't been that long ago when Atsushi had finally mastered the courage to ask Akutagawa out.

Junichirou was happy for him (also maybe because he wouldn't get random 3am calls of Atsushi screaming about said boy anymore...hopefully).

Since it was the late afternoon the shift didn't have many customers.

There was the old man coming to get his arrangement, a young man buying the classic (roses), a bride that came to check up on a few things and a mother and her little daughter who bought a couple of single flowers.

Junichirou helped them all and then sat back just scrolling on his phone.

He was just looking at the clock and realizing he should slowly start to close the shop, when the little bell above the stores door jingled.

The florist looked up to see a man standing slightly awkward in the door.

...a very handsome man.

He was around Junichirou's hight, with red hair some shades darker than Junichirou. The man wore a cropped green jaket and a white V-neck shirt as well as...a band aid on his nose?

Wierd fashion choice...b ut it doese look good on him.

He'd look good in everything.

Jun we don't even know his name!

I'm just saying!

Junichirou shook his head to get rid of his thoughts as he put on a smile again.

"May I help you?"

The man jumped a little but then went up to the desk at which the other redhead was sitting.

"Uh yeah. I think you can." Junicirou chuckled. "And how?"

The man rolled his eyes but his cheeks were tinted a light pink.

"I just need an arrangement for the front window of the place I work at." "Oh so you can say stuff that makes sense!"

Junichirou was usually not like this, especially to customers. He didn't know what it was about this guy that made it so easy for him to tease and joke but if he was honest...he liked it.

The redhead in front of him snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"So now that we've established that-" Junichirou stood up and grabbed his notebook and pen. "-what's the style you're going for?"

"Well it's a tattoo shop-" "The one down the street?" "-Uh yeah. Do you know it?"

The florist tapped his pen on the notebook.

"Yeah my coworkers boyfriend works there..." ,he mumbled as he walked over to some of the flowers in he coner that might be of intrest for the man.

"Oh-um well then if you've been there before you should know what type of aesthetic, I guess, we are going for, right?"

Junichirou hummed.

"'kay so I have some ideas. The thing is just you came very shortly before closing and frankly I have a sister at home that will beat the shit out of me if I'm not back on time so-"

The redhead went into the back to get his bag.

"_don't worry I'll have the arrangement finished tomorrow at noon. I'll just need you to write down your name and if you want it to be brought to the shop of course where the shop is. Please make it fast I can't be late."

The taller man in front of him looked slightly speachless but then seemed to regain his mind because he started writing the information down on the pice of paper JUnichirou had given him.

Tachihara Michizou, huh?

I'll remeber that...

Tachihara seemed to linger for a few seconds too long until he then turned around and walked to the shops door.

"Oh yeah by the way."

JUnichirou looked back up.

"You look cute." ,he winked. "Well see ya sometime, Red!"

JUnichirou just looked at the door closing with his mouth open.

"Wha-what the fuck just happned?!"

Honestly Junichirou was just confused.

He walked the short way to his and Naomi’s apartment without paying attention to anyrhing, nearly getting hit by a car.

He was so distracted that even completely ignored his sister who jumped to hug him the second he opened the door, which wasn’t good.

“Hey! Are you ignoring me?!“

“H-huh? Oh! Sorry Naomi!“

“Something must have happned at work today.“ the redhead could feel his cheeks heating up. „So I’m right!“

“Yeah ok ok you’re right.“ Junichirou walked around his sister into the kitchen, where he opened the cupboard to get out two bowls.

“So tell me!“

„You‘re a noisy one, aren’t you?“ „Hey! Don’t be mean to your adorable little sister!“

The siblings sat down as the water started to boil.

There was a comfortable silence between them even if Junichirou could practically feel Naomi‘s questions floating in the air.

“Ok it has to do with a customer.“ Naomi gave the happy little squeak she always gave when he told her, as she called it, „The tea“ from work.

“So I was just about to close where this guy came in.“ his sister seemed to visibly get even more intrigued.

„He was like really handsome. He was tall, had red hair, intense eyes and I’m pretty sure he wore eyeliner. He had an interesting fashion style and had a bunch of tattoos, because he works at the tattoo parlor Atsushi‘s boyfriend also works at.“

Naomi hummed with a smirk on her lips, as she held her head in her hands.

“Well he walked in last minute and asked for an arrangement for the front of their parlor. And of course I was like: „sure I’ll do it. It’ll be done by tomorrow just give me the name of the place and I’ll deliver it“, right?“ Naomi nodded.

“And everything is fine everything is normal.“ his sister raised an eyebrow. „Ok normal with a little bit more blushing.“

“Anyway! He walks out but just before he leaves he turns around to me and says, and I quote: „You look cute.“ and then he winked at me and left!“

The black haired girl in front of him gasped. „He winked?! No he didn’t!“ „Yes he did!“ „Oh god!“

The water was finally done boiling so Junichirou stood up to get it and finish their dinner.

“Well he seems to like you. Wait- did you get his name?“ „Uh- yeah I did. I need it for the delivery and everything, remember?“ „Yeah yeah. So what is it?“ „Tachihara…Michizou Tachihara.“

Even if Junichirou didn’t like the expression on his sisters face he just ignored it and sat down in front of her with the food.

„Good Morning Jun!“

„AHH Oh god Naomi don’t scare me like that!“

“Yeah yeah whatever. Come on I need to show you something!“

„Wait don’t I need to go to-wait it’s 6am. What the fuck Are you doing awake?“ „Pssst!“

Naomi basically ran through their small apartment dragging a very tried Junichirou behind her.

On the small couch the siblings own sat a girl with red glasses, long brown hair and tried looking green eyes.

Haruno, his sisters girlfriend.

„Good morning Haruno.“ „Good Morning Junichirou“, she said giving him a small smile. They suffered together by the hands of the one, Naomi Tanizaki.

“We found something out. Sit down.“ The black haired girl grabbed to open laptop sitting on the table in front of the couch.

With „we“ she probably mean Haruno, and she was just cuddling her half the time…

“Michizou Tachihara, 22 years of age, Tattoo artist. He’s currently single and a bisexual. He has been working at Port tattoo for about 2 or 3 years, not sure about that one. He’s pretty good friends with someone called Gin Akutagawa, but don’t worry they have a girlfriend.“

“Also before you ask: yes Gin is related to Atsushi‘s boyfriend. They are siblings“, Naomi‘s girlfriend piped up.

Junichirou was just stunned.

“Wha-what? When? How? Did you guys even sleep?!“

“No we did not but that is not important! What’s important is that we now know that he is single and probably attracted to you.“

He had no words.

Junichirou was distracted again.

He was just working on an arrangement for a handsome bisexual guy who told him he looked cute…

What the actual fuck?!

He took a step back.

The arrangement was beautiful, one of his best works he’d say.

A lot of dark blues and purples.

The hyacinths blending beautifully with the cornflowers. Just all in all pretty.

Sure he thought it was kind of embarrassing adding the cornflowers, he knew a lot about flower language after all but most of his customers didn’t really care especially for these types of jobs so the redhead bushed those thoughts to the back of his head.

Junichirou took a deep breath.

Lets do this!

Be confident!

He took the arrangement.

The walk wasn’t going to be long so it was fine for him to just carry it.

“Ok I’m off, Atsushi! See you in a bit!“ „Yeah sure thing, Tani!“

…

The walk to the tattoo parlor was blurr and now he was standing in front of it.

Oh fucking god-

Deep breaths Junichirou

Deep breaths

And he walked in.

“Hello how can I help you?“

The woman at the front was a little older than him, had blond hair that she had in a bun and had warm brown eyes. She looked nice.

“Uh I need to talk to uhm Tachihara?“

She eyed him a little bit visibly inspecting the vase in his hand.

She gave him a smirk.

“Yeah he should be free I’ll tell him.“

“Thank you…“

He had only ever been in here once. He had to wait in the front room as Atsushi and Akutagawa were at each other’s throats agin. Oh how happy he was they were dating now. Less fighting…less.

The place looked nice though.

Even if it had a rather cool color palette with a lot of blues, purples and blacks it still seemed very cozy and the seats were the softest things Junichirou‘s ass had ever touched.

Some of the work by the artist that worked here was displayed on the walls. These people were so goddamm talented.

#my fanfiction #tachihara michizou #tanihara #tanizaki x tachihara #tanizaki junichirou #bungou stray dogs

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Note

sirius/hestia: sirius being romantic and love's fool

hello anon thank you so much i love writing about them

I took a while, but then I thought a lot about this scene, and I loved how this fanfic turned out, so I hope you like it.

*It's 1995, just before Jily and Harry need to go to Grimmauld Place

They had fought over something stupid, honestly, Hestia knew it was something too silly for the two of them to take so seriously.

But of course it hadn't been stupid at the time, and the two of them took fights very seriously, so when they had to go to that stupid Aurors dinner, they weren't trying very hard to show that they didn't want to be there and that they had had a fight a few minutes ago.

Hestia couldn't even remember who started the fight, but she was irritated with work and Sirius kept being pessimistic about this stupid dinner, listing everything that could go wrong, and she freaked out because she didn't need to think about someone being rude with them, because she had already spent eight hours listening to people being rude to her, and being mean to her because they thought they knew better. She needed to have some faith that for at least two hours she was going to be able to smile and have fun, even the slightest bit.

She had gone into hiding in the bathroom when one of the Aurors came to talk to Sirius, she didn't have the patience to deal with Mr. Santiago, however well intentioned he was, Hestia didn't want anyone asking her if she was getting pregnant in the next few years, or she would wait to get older.

Sirius would handle it better than she did, she knew that. Santiago was his boss after all.

Sitting on the toilet, she sighed, glad to finally be silent.

She wanted to quit, wanted to tell Sirius that it had been a mistake that they had moved from their quiet, cozy house to a more central apartment, wanted to call her dad and yell at him for being a jerk last week when he saw her and Sirius at the market and ignored him, she wanted to tell Lily that it wasn't fair that she was so far away and she wasn't allowed to see her best friend because a lunatic nearly killed her son even though she knew it wasn't her or Potter's or Harry's fault.

Hestia buried her face in her hands, wanting to disappear.

When the bathroom door opened she was ready for her cabin door to open too, it was probably Sirius wanting to see if she was alright, and Hestia felt ready to be able to lie and say yes, even if he wouldn't believe it.

He knew her too well.

But instead, she heard female voices, cheerful and full of life, probably not expecting anyone else there; ''He's beautiful.''

''Yes, so, so beautiful.'' The other sighed passionately, which made Hestia chuckle softly, remembering when it was she, Lily and Marlene doing that, running to the bathroom of the muggle ice cream shop that was on the corner of her house, only to daydream about Elliot, the boy who works there. Older, charming, helpful, and very polite.

Hestia still remembered how they all screamed and jumped when Marlene kissed him.

"I'd give anything to kiss him," Girl A said, and the noise of things being placed on the marble sink made her believe they were both touching up their makeup or something. She had done so much with Lily and Marlene to forget what it felt like to just worry about looking pretty.

There was no war, people dying, hidden friends, nothing, it was just them putting on lipstick and making sure they were all perfect to try and get someone to kiss in some dark corner of Hogwarts by the end of the night.

Hestia remembered when Sirius saw her doing this. The two of them on James's seventeenth birthday, after making out warmly in his bedroom, Sirius showed her the bathroom and watched her touch up her makeup. It was so silly and natural when she thought about it, because he still does it, he still watches Hestia like it's for the first time.

''You know what I wanted? Kiss every tattoo of his.” Girl B said, and Hestia almost laughed when she heard her sigh loudly, imagining she was fanning herself. "So sexy."

‘’He's usually already a hottie, but when does he show off his tattoos? Urg, I feel like I'm going to die.” Girl A moaned irritably. "I hate that he's married."

Uh, married men, she had been through that with girls too, not that Hestia liked Johann, but she couldn't help saying he was hot. Lily was the one who thought he was most beautiful, she melted when he got close to her. It was funny, she should send her a letter talking about it.

''These days I saw him training, they were the best ten minutes of my life. '' Hestia chuckled softly, thinking of the times she had gone to the gym only to see Sirius sweating and exercising, every now and then he would lift his shirt to dry his face and make her feel on the clouds. It was her weakness.

"Lucky his wife who sees him naked every day."

"He bought her flowers yesterday, I think it was their birthday." Woman B said.

"He always buys it, or flowers, or something she likes to eat." They were silent, probably breaking up. "I heard one of the Aurors who works with him flirted with him."

‘’Yes, Felicity. She asked if he didn't want to go along with her to the convention in France… I mean, I understand, he's a hot guy, but he's married, hold your pants woman!’’

''Do you know what he said?'' Girl A looked curious, and Hestia was too, because Sirius was going to this convention in France and he didn't say anything to her about it, and he usually told her about Auror gossip.

‘’No, but she didn't look happy when she left his office. But Juan told me that Ester told him that he told her not to let her into his office anymore, and that he looked kind of furious. Not that Felicity was happy, of course, I think she expected him to agree to go out with her.”

“Ah, he would never do that, he's clearly in love with his wife.” Girl A laughed. ''Once, during one of our trainings, he told me that when they were at Hogwarts, he only started paying attention in Muggle Studies classes because of her, and that his favorite class was DADA because they sat near one of the another.'' Hestia frowned, thinking that this could only be a bizarre coincidence.

"Yes, I've seen them talking, and seriously, I hope that one day someone will look at me the way Mr. Black looks at her." They sighed, and Hestia became more attentive to their conversation. ''He has a picture of the two of them in his drawer, I once went there to get a paper for a meeting he asked for and I saw it, they are in a mountain of snow, and she is without her glove showing her ring.'' Sirius still kept this photo? It had been so long now, they were twenty-two and he had asked her to marry him.

“So cute.” The noise of makeup being put away resounded through the silent bathroom, and Hestia fingered the ring that had a lovely diamond set in it. Their names were still delicately engraved on the inside of the ring.

‘’Do you think that's why Felicity won't travel to the convention? Because did she flirt with him?” B asked.

''Probably. Not that I think he would cheat on her or anything, but he probably wants to avoid drama at all costs, you know how he hates it.” Sirius hates drama? Hestia didn't really agree with this, but probably because at work he was much more serious and reserved than at home, because she still remembered him saying that he would die after getting a fever and vomiting from eating bad food.

"Yes." The two continued talking, but now the voices faded as they exited the bathroom, soon leaving her alone in the bathroom again.

Hestia knew Sirius was a hot guy, she remembered how she had almost drooled every time she was admiring him in the common room, sitting sprawled on the couch as if he didn't realize that the more he tried not to draw attention, the more people looked at him, his chin resting on his hand as he watched Peter and Remus play chess.

He was handsome even when he didn't want to be.

Like the first time they slept together, and when she woke up she saw him sleeping. With his face scrunched up and his hair pinned up, so fluffy and helpless it was hard for her to decide to wake him up - but she was getting really hungry and she couldn't remember where her clothes were.

But she didn't know anyone was flirting with him. With her man.

And she didn't want to think like that, because she was an idiot, but it was the thing that was going through her head at that moment. Imagining some woman, much prettier than she, flirting with Sirius. Touching his hair, his face, his tattoos.

Hestia loved kissing his tattoos, all of them, and she liked to remember that he had made one just for her. But it disturbed her peace to think of someone else doing it.

And why hadn't he told her about Felicity? Hestia had met her once before, a nice and kind woman with short black hair and a body to envy.

"Hey, where were you, I was-" Hestia wouldn't let him finish, she'd come out of the bathroom on a mission and their stupid fight wasn't going to get in the way. Ignoring his coworkers and what Mr. Santiago was saying, she cupped Sirius' face as she had been doing since she was seventeen and ran away from home at night on winter break to meet him, and kissed him.

Hestia still felt those butterflies in her stomach when she did that, like she felt when he kissed her near the Potters' house in the rain, or when he took her for a walk in Muggle London, even though none of them knew where to go. She still remembered how she had jumped for joy in Lily's room, telling her and Marlene how he had made her jump over a gate so they could enter an old amusement park, the two of them going to sit on the old Ferris wheel, sharing an ice cream he had bought.

"Wow, okay." Sirius blinked as she pulled away, her hands still on his face. ''Hm, this is good... Where have you been?’’ He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her farther forward as she smiled. "Is this your way of calling for a truce in the fight?"

"Fuck the fight." She stared at him, feeling her chest burn. “Coming with me to get a drink?” She looked away quickly, just to check that the other guys had left them alone. It looked like Santiago had managed to drag everyone over to the cold cuts table, which was a good thing, because she didn't want his co-work to think Hestia was dragging her husband aside to have mad sex with him.

As much as they had already done it.

And as much as she was a little mad at this talk of someone flirting with him, Hestia wasn't making a big scene in public. Never.

"Of course." Sirius still looked a little stunned, but he followed her wherever she pulled. Hestia could see that there were indeed some people giving Sirius a second check, only to look at her afterwards as if wondering what he had seen in her.

She didn't take away their reason, she had already asked that same question to him a few times during her crises.

"You know you don't have to lie to me, don't you?" She asked as they reached the farthest part of the room, no one seemed to notice the two of them there.

"I know… Did something happen?" Sirius put his hands back on her hips, a smirk on his face. '’I thought getting a drink was code for getting laid, or for going home to get laid until we lost our wits, but I think I got it wrong?'’

“Don't be an idiot, I'm on my period.” She rolled her eyes when she heard him chuckle.

"And I don't care." He shrugged. "So what's this about me not lying?"

"Felicity flirted with you?" To his credit, Sirius looked confused for a few seconds before letting out a oh. ''Is that a yes?''

"Doll, don't mind that, it was the most shameful thing I've ever been through, and there's no need for you to worry." He grimaced at the memory. ‘’I didn't tell you before because it doesn't matter, I didn't even remember it. Who told you?''

"I heard it in the bathroom… It seems like there are a lot of people who think you're hot," Hestia said, trying not to be affected by the closeness Sirius was putting between them, his mischievous smile growing.

‘’Jealous babe? I thought we were past that stage.” His smug smile was the worst, his gray eyes gleaming as if he were a beast and Hestia his next prey. "I don't really care what other people think, you know that."

"I know," Sirius kissed her, gentle and calm as he did whenever he was teasing her. "And I'm not jealous, I was just curious why you kept it from me… Afraid I'd do something, Black?"

"Nah, I can handle you and calm your beast."

“Don't be cocky.” She lifted her chin to let him kiss her neck, smiling at the feel of his lips there.

"I didn't tell you because it was Valentine's Day and I wasn't going to spoil our dinner for something as dumb as that." He looked at her, hands firm on her hips. ‘’It's idiot, you know I only have eyes for you. But if you must know, I hated every second from the time she walked into my office, until she left."

"She's not that good then?" Hestia bit her lip as he kissed the sensitive flesh near her collarbone.

"She's not you, Hestia." Sirius raised his head, as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Urg, you're so cheesy.” It wasn't a real complaint, but she liked the way he smiled when she said it. "It gave me a toothache." They chuckled, Sirius returning his hands to her hips, creating a space between them. Hestia knew what he was going to ask even before he opened his mouth.

''What happened today? You don't just look like this.” Hestia grimaced, not wanting to talk about it now that they were all right again, but she knew if she didn't, he would make her talk sooner or later. It turned out that the two of them always needed a little push to talk about their feelings, and the other almost never liked the silence that came between them when that happened.

"It was a shitty day at work, and… I don't want to work there anymore." She accepted his embrace, laying her head on top of his heart, feeling Sirius kiss the top of her head. "I miss Lily, I don't like living in that apartment and…the drama with my dad last week?" She looked up at him, wanting not to cry but not able to keep the tears from stinging in her eyes. ‘’I thought it was over, it's been almost twenty years, why does he continue with it? I'm so tired… And today listening to those girls in the bathroom, I don't know, I know you won't cheat on me, that's not it, but… what are you still doing here?’’

''Like this? I'm here because I love you, where else would I go?’’

"To the arms of a prettier woman with a less troubled family?" She ventured, dropping her face back into his chest because she felt ashamed for saying that, and for feeling that. She didn't like to look him in the eye when one of her crises started, Hestia was always silly afraid that she would see in Sirius that disgusted and slightly annoyed expression she had seen in her father's eyes when that happened.

“I don't think there's a woman prettier than you, and about your family, it's not like mine is a bed of roses, is it?” He hugged her tighter, like he did when she was sad. Hestia knew Sirius would never look at her with that accusatory look that she was going crazy. "You know what I thought when Felicity walked into my office and started telling me about how Paris was a romantic city and all?"

''What?''

"That we never went there, which is ridiculous because it should have been the first place for us to go together." He chuckled softly. ‘’Paris is indeed a very romantic city.’’

"Yes, you're right." She sniffled, tears stinging in her eyes again.

‘’I don't care if someone is flirting with me, or I don't know if there are women talking about me in the bathroom. Sure, it's really good for my ego, you know,” Hestia chuckled, rolling her eyes. "But none of them are you, and I'm not saying this because I want to convince you to have shower sex later, because you know we're going to-"

''Disgusting.''

‘’-You love it. But it's because I love you Jones, and for you I can put up with your father pretending I don't exist for hours if it'll make you happy, and, I can find a way to get you inside Lily's house without Dumbledore knowing and staying talking to us about everything we already know. She needs you too, James told me she's feeling pretty lonely... And I don't like that apartment either, and Joe is looking to sell his house, so we can go visit if you want.'' Sirius was quiet, his chin resting on top of her head, his arms holding her securely in his embrace.

"I hate feeling like this," Hestia grumbled.

''If it's any comfort to you, last week I thought I'd cut my hair because you told me about that guy from your job.'' He admitted, and when Hestia lifted her face to look at him, Sirius' cheeks were flushed. "Don't look at me like that, it's been a tense week."

"Noooo, you're perfect like that." She brought her hands up to his hair, smiling at the familiar feel of his silky strands. "It's the only reason I married you, so if you don't want to deal with the divorce bureaucracy, don't cut it."

Sirius chuckled, looking pleased to have gotten her out of that cloud of self-deprecation. He was very good at it. ‘’Don't worry, I don't want to deal with these papers anytime soon.. Hope never actually...want to go home?’’

“Are you going to get that massage you promised me two weeks ago?” His gray eyes sparkled, his cheeks still a little flushed and a beautiful smile on his lips. Hestia remembered the girls talking about how he looked at her, and she didn't blame them for wanting that either.

‘’Of course, and then we can enjoy the shower-’’

"No way." They laughed, Sirius sighing in defeat.

"I'll still convince you and you'll regret not listening to me sooner." They intertwined their fingers, Sirius pulling her towards the exit, nodding casually to his coworkers, a little hastily.

'I'll let you try, but I promise nothing…'

#sirius x hestia #my babies #sirius black #everyone lives #marauders #padfoot #hestia jones #my fic

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Miss Piggy

Summary: You are head over heels for your elder brother’s best friend – sadly he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Rogers!Reader, Steve x Sister!Reader, Sam Wilson, Brock Rumlow, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, language, Bucky being a douche, mentions of violence, remorse, awful dates, mentions of sex

Music blares through the night. You can smell the booze and beer in your brother's living room, just like cheap perfume and sweat as his friends talk, drink, and laugh.

Steve insisted that you shall join the party. Working the whole week and spending your time in your room is not the way he imagined how you spend your life.

“Get a beer, relax and dance with the girls.” Steve tries to make you feel comfortable around his friends, but most of the time you feel like you do not belong.

Nat, Wanda, and Carol are nice, but the other girls drawn to your brother and his friends, are always bitching around.

While Steve’s female friends are nice, even drag you out of your shell sometimes the other girls seem to do not like you.

Maybe it’s as Steve focusses his attention on you, his sister, when you are around or that you do not drink until you pass out, but they always find a reason to make you feel unwelcome.

“You look pretty tonight, Y/N. I bet all the guys in this room, except for your brother, of course, will lose their heart to you.” Sam Wilson, Mr. Charming in flesh and blood takes your hand to lead you toward Clint and Wanda.

“There she is!” Wanda smirks, looking you all over before she gives you an approving hum. “You bought a pink one! Me too!” Wanda wears a pink top, white skinny jeans and matching pink heels. “We look like twins.”

“I must admit, Wanda is right.” Clint snickers as the redhead gives him a thumb up at his comment. “You look stunning, just like Miss Maximoff. I bet Bucky will finally make a move.” You like Clint, but sometimes his mouth is faster than his brain.

Just like right now. While he blurs out the words two of the girls who tried to get Steve’s and Bucky’s attention start to giggle before they run off.

“I don’t think so…” Grumbling you take the beer Sam offers, returning his soft smile. “I am not the kind of girl Bucky would ask out. We are friends, that’s all.”

“He calls you doll; Y/N. Bucky never called any other girl like that.” Natasha insists as she steps closer.

“Our shy guy is watching you since you entered the room. I can tell he does not want to hold hands or crap. His looks are full of hunger…”

“Don’t scare her, Nat. Let’s make sure he will dance with our fledgling.” Clint grins as he strides toward Steve to distract your brother long enough for Bucky to make a move.

“Go and get the guy. Just walk over there and ask him about his new bike. You know, he bought a new one last week. It’s black and he asked someone to give the bike a nice ‘tattoo’ in a week.” Wanda shoves you toward Bucky.

You want to talk to him, want to ask him about the bike, just like Wanda suggested but two girls flank his side and he seems to enjoy their company.

Before you can even say ‘hi’ to your brothers’ best friend one of the girl's eyes you up and down, snorting at your pink dress.

“What does Miss Piggy want here? Did Stevie invite everyone in town or is she a clown?” The girl snickers and you feel your heart drop.

You liked the dress, Wanda liked it too, but that girl looks at you as if you are wearing a clown suit.

“I guess Stevie wanted her to have fun,” Bucky smirks as you look down your body to find a reason why the girl laughed about you. “I guess she stole the dress from Miss Piggy to impress the boys.”

The words coming from the man you admire, even secretly are in love with feel like someone stabbed your heart, twisted the knife, and carved it out of your chest.

“Look at the little girl. I guess she’s about to cry…” The other girl coos and you turn on your heels before you storm out of the room to run upstairs.

Natasha and Wanda call your name, even run after you while Sam storms toward Bucky, followed by a very pissed Clint.

“Y/N, Sweetie…wait…” Natasha tries but you slam the door to your room shut. Locking your door, you sniffle silently as Natasha calls your name. “Open the door, Y/N. Come on. Tell us what happened…”

“Ask Bucky and his girls.” Turning toward your bed you open the zipper, shove the straps down your shoulders to let the dress pool around your ankles.

“Y/N?” You can hear Steve’s voice from the other side of the door, but tonight you will not open the door for your brother either. “Cupcake, open the door or I’ll kick it open!”

“Stevie, go back to your party and have fun with your friends and those girls. I am just having a headache.” Changing into pajamas, fluffy socks, and your favorite slipper you sit onto your bed, wiping the tears away.

“I will break it, Y/N.” Steve rams his shoulder against your door and you get up, sighing.

“Why did you cry?” The moment you open the door, Steve, cups your cheek. “Baby sis?”

“It’s stupid, Stevie. I should have known better than to try to talk to your best friend while he’s surrounded by two chicks. I am Miss Piggy to them and Bucky. Just let me have some sleep and tomorrow I’ll go and have some fun.”

“I will rip him a new one! I swear he’ll not survive this party!” Steve’s voice booms through your room as he stands there to watch you curl into a ball onto your bed.

“Save it, Stevie. We both know that this was my fault. I had to buy this stupid dress and go to a party where I do not belong. They are your friends, not mine. I should stick to the men asking me out.” Steve covers you with your blanket, not knowing what to think about his friend’s behavior.

“Y/N, I’ll be back later. Sleep a bit.” Your brother presses a soft kiss to your temple before he leaves your room.

His hands balled into fists he storms down the staircases to beat his friend into a pulp.

“Wait! Stevie, you can’t do this…” Natasha and Wanda drag the girls bullying you out of Steve’s house. Natasha even fisted the girl’s hair to drag her out.

“You were not invited. Out of my house and I dare you to get close to my house, my club or my sister, the girl you harassed, ever again. I know you like to be close to the big bad bikers, but do you know what happens to people hurting my sister?” Steve towers over the girls and they flinch when he steps closer.

“We didn’t know she’s your sister…Sir.” The girl calling you Miss Piggy whines.

“I don’t care if you did know shit! You came to my house, uninvited and harassed one of my guests. My sister or not, if you come to my house, you respect the people in there or you will pay for it. Get out of my sight before I forget my manners!”

Wanda never saw Steve that mad before. Even she flinched when he made another step toward the girls.

“Let’s get back inside, the show is over.” Sam tries as the girls run away. “We should talk to Bucky. I want to know why he pulled that shit after you allowed him to go out with Y/N. I don’t get him…”

“Same, Sam. I told him he can ask her out and he has the guts to hurt my baby sis at my party, at my house.”

“I want to hear it coming from you Buck. I want to hear why you broke my vulnerable baby sis’s heart.” Arms crossed over his chest Steve glares at his friend as Bucky runs one hand down his face.

“I had to scare her off. You know that I am no good for your sister. We are the bad guys, bikers and my job is it to beat the shit out of people disrespecting you, the club and our members. All I know is how to drink, hit people and fuck a girl behind a bar.”

“I knew this when I told you that Y/N is no longer off-limits to you. She is in love with you since she turned sixteen, Buck. My baby sis wants you, so she will get you. Now find a way to make it up to her and come back tomorrow.” Steve steps closer, jaw ticking, hands balled into fists he nods at Sam.

“Bucky, you should go now. Have a shower, wear clean clothes, and buy flowers for the girl. You better prepare a speech before you come to the inquisition.” Clint hums, watching Brock flirt with Natasha.

“Dude, hands off my girl!”

“I did not touch her, Barton. I got a nice girl right over there. Her ass is even nicer.” Snickering Carol gives her boyfriend a wink. “Where’s Peggy, Steve?”

“At her parent's place. She has to explain why a biker is the right guy for her – again by the way.” Sighing Steve falls onto a chair, running his fingers nervously through his hair. “I don’t know if she will stay with me.”

“You’re a catch, Steve. Now let us talk about how to kick Bucky’s ass for hurting our girl.” Clint’s eyes meet your brothers. “Kicking his balls? Scratching his new bike? Cutting his hair…or wait – he already did so as the colleague Y/N flirted with has short black hair…”

“Shut up, punk…” Bucky was silent the whole time but now he grits his teeth. “I did it to make sure she can find a nice guy…”

“And a nice guy she’ll find…”

“Where are you going?” Watching you walk down the stairs, wearing a brand-new cerulean dress and a fake smile you stop in your tracks as your brother looks at you.

“I do what you told me to do. I will have more in my life than work and hiding in my room. Alexander Pierce junior asked me out weeks ago. I refused to go out with him but after last night…”

Stiffing you give Steve a cracked smile. “Bucky is out of my league, I got that, so I’ll try to find a nice guy appreciating me and my Miss Piggy dress.” Pecking Steve’s cheek, you ignore Sam’s worried face, or the way your brother’s jaw ticks.

“You sure about that?”

“I can’t wait for the rest of my life for your best friend to fall in love with me. I thought, no believed, that Bucky is at least my friend, but I was wrong.”

Steve cannot do anything but watch you walk out of the house. While you step out of your brother’s house, Bucky sprints toward the gate as you keep your eyes trained toward the car waiting for you.

“Doll…uh—hey.” Bucky tries, opening the door but you ignore his presence, his words, and the single rose in his hands.

“Mr. Barnes.” Your voice is cold, eyes not meeting his you pass him by without acknowledging him further.

Steve’s eyes follow you to the parked car, the one belonging to your date and he nods at Sam. Signalizing him and Clint to follow you to make sure your date behaves like a gentleman.

“She has a date…” Huffing Bucky looks at the single rose in his hands.

“Yeah, with Alexander Pierce junior, the world's biggest asshole. Follow that girl and get her.” Brock grunts, pointing toward Bucky’s brand-new bike. “We all know you want that guy to spray Y/N’s name on your bike.”

“Maybe that guy is the better choice, Brock. We are…” Fisting Bucky’s leather jacket Brock glares at his friend.

“Listen, Bucky. We had our conflicts in the beginning, but I hope you know we are friends. I would not let my girl go for anything in the world. Am I an ass? – yes! Did I do stupid and dangerous stuff? – yes! Would I let Alexander Pierce junior fuck my girl? – no fucking way!”

“Fuck her?” Pale Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. Panic rises in his chest and he nods at Steve. “I need the club…all of us. I will get my girl…”

“You heard my first lieutenant. Let’s ride…”

Dinner could be pleasant if your date would be more subtle while staring at other women’s ass or at least try to listen to what you have to say.

The whole time the man asking you five times to go out with him has nothing better to do than playing with his phone, telling you about his newest car and on top of all – he stares at your waitresses ass.

“That’s nice…” Poking the food he ordered with your fork (He didn’t even give you the chance to decide what you want to eat.) you try to remember why you agreed to go out with this awful man.

Outside the restaurant, Steve’s club parks their bikes. Steve smirks, as Bucky nervously straightens his clothes.

“I’ll go and get my girl now.” Bucky takes the roses from Natasha before he rushes toward the restaurant. He is nervously opening the door, but the moment his eyes land on you his back straightens, and he walks toward the table.

“Excuse us, but we are trying to have a conversation. We don’t need…” Your date glances up at an incredibly angry-looking biker and you can help yourself but giggle as his jaw goes slack and his fork drops onto the table.

“What do you want here?” Alexander juniors’ eyes widen as you bark at the biker right next to him. “I have a nice dinner right now. I don’t think Miss Piggy has time for an audience right now.”

“Doll, I tried to help you hate me. Stevie allowed me to ask you out for a date and I panicked. I believed someone with a regular job and a not so shitty past would be better for you.” Humming you place the fork next to the plate.

“Interesting. So, you believed that I would like to go out with a guy not giving a shit on me. With someone not even listening to what I have to say while he’s busy looking at every girl’s ass in the restaurant?” Your words make Bucky chuckle and he holds out his hand, but you get up without taking his hand.

“Y/N.” Ignoring Bucky you grab your purse, toss some money onto the table before you turn to leave. “Please, doll. Let me apologize for acting like a douche.”

“You’re an idiot, Barnes.” Bucky follows you outside, rushing to your side to walk with you. He tries to guide you toward his bike, but you walk toward your brother.

“Guys, Girls.” Nodding at Steve’s club you want to get on Steve’s bike, but he shakes his head. “Steve?”

“Cupcake, he’s your man now. Teach him a lesson but let him drive you home.” Your eyes narrow as Steve motions the club to start their engines. The whole club let their engine roar before they drive away.

“Doll…please…” Huffing you turn around to look at Bucky. “I am the first lieutenant of the Howling Commando. I’d like to drive you home and more…”

“More, Mr. Barnes?” Humming Bucky shows you the roses and you let your eyes drink him in.

“I want to know why you cut your hair.”

“You flirted with that guy, admiring his new haircut. I thought you did not like my long hair and cut it. I wanted to get your attention, Y/N. Can I drive you home now, doll? Please?”

“I need to be at home at …” Smirking you shrug. “I don’t know when. I mean, it depends if you want to feel my big brothers’ wrath.”

“We could go for a walk with my bike, Y/N. I mean…uh—doll. I’d like to spend some time with you.”

“It’s 2 am, James Buchanan Barnes.“ Eyes narrowed, hands balled into fists your brother watches Bucky and you walk upstairs. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Stevie. You said I am her man now. The lady wanted to go for a ride with my bike, then she wanted some ice cream and now we are going to her room and watch her favorite movie. It’s called redemption.”

“Did you touch her?” Steve cocks his head, poking a finger into his friends’ chest. “I dare you to say yes…”

“I held her hand and helped her off my bike. I may or may not kissed her lips and touched her neck with my lips. I think I’d like to touch her some more, but we did not even reach the first base…” Bucky smirks while you tug at his jacket.

“I want to watch a movie.” Whining you look at Steve. “He won’t get any until he made everything up to me.”

“Fine. You can watch a movie with my sister. No touching. No kissing. No making-out.”

“Yes, Sir.” Bucky follows you upstairs as Sam, Clint, and the others watch the both of you. “Our girl grew up so fast…” Sam sighs.

“We need to make sure he uses condoms,” Clint adds while the girls dreamily watch Bucky grasp for your hand.

“I guess they will go at it like animals soon enough.” Brock snickers and Steve feels his stomach tighten.

“Fuck! I did forget they could have sex…”

Laughter fills the house and Steve can feel his heart race as you turn around to press your lips to his first lieutenant.

“Yeah, Steve. Sooner or later he will ruin your baby sis…”

All works Tags

@yolobloggers

@meganywinchester

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@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@the-broken-angel-13

@trumpettay

@zxph-yr

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Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore

@notyourtypicalrose

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@officialmarvelwhore

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Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@rynabarnesrogers

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@buchanan-lover

#Miss Piggy #bucky barnes #biker!bucky #biker!steve rogers #steve rogers x sister!reader #angst #steve rogers #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #biker au #biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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yslkook · 4 years

Text

#take it offline (3)

#corporate masterlist summary: in the weeks leading up to the first workshop taking place in tokyo, you find yourself having several epiphanies and become better acquainted with jeon jungkook. word count: 7765 warnings: cursing, parental death, a mom who walked out, discussion of mental health, alcohol a/n: enjoy the VIBES. i like using appa because appa means dad in my language, and eomma is pronounced the same way for mom in my language too (i’m not korean)

***

After a year passed after your dad’s death, you had gotten a tattoo. It’s big and bold and colorful on your thigh, filled with all of the flowers that your dad treasured the most. Your dad had been so artistic and soft, taking time to enjoy the beauty of small things. He had a small garden in your childhood home, and you remember how meticulously he took care of his flowers. Namely, his favorites were cherry blossoms, pink hibiscuses, white roses and lilies.

There’s always a vase of flowers at home, on your nightstand. As your little tribute to him.

You remember the first time your dad had seen a sunflower- he’d seen it on the internet, and had been fascinated. He had picked you up and twirled you around, promising you that he’d take you to America to see it, to see mazes and fields of sunflowers.

Of course, you never went. Still, the memory is a fond one for you.

You often think that your mother must have been a cruel woman, and that you had received all of her personality and none of your father’s. Your father, who was quiet, soft, and steadfast. And then you, who was brash, impulsive and always angry.

You gave up trying to understand how she could leave your father- she had left when you were just two. Appa never hid her from you, always wanting you to know that you did have a mother. He would show you pictures of her throughout your childhood, telling you bits and pieces of her. It had made your heart ache at the time. That your dad had at least had time with her, and you had nothing to remember her by.

He wasn’t perfect. He tried his best, but you wonder what was worse- never knowing that you had a mother… or knowing that you had her, she left, and then hearing stories from your father about her.

It didn’t matter, not anymore. You only think of your absent mother fleetingly these days, and it’s been years since you’ve thought of her as anything more than a minor side character in your book.

Once you got the first tattoo, you couldn’t stop. There was a small lion below your heart, because your dad and grandma always called you their lion cub. An arrow on the inside of your wrist. It was an itch, a craving that you could never quite satisfy. The desire for fresh ink came and went in waves.

Today is the fifth death anniversary of Appa, and you contemplate whether you should get another tattoo. To celebrate, or mourn really, five years without him.

Ultimately, you decide against it. Instead choosing to continue the tradition of dinner with Grandma and with Seokjin. You and Grandma cooked all of Appa’s favorite foods and desserts on the day of his death anniversary. Jin, as your closest friend and as the person who quite literally picked you up at your lowest, always came every year for Appa’s dinner.

You think Jin saved you from yourself all those years ago, and you don’t even know if he knows that. And how could he know? If you had never properly voiced it?

Appa’s dinner is usually a quiet, but fun affair. Just the way your dad would have liked it. You and Jin fill the silence with your banter, and Grandma even jumps in, taking sides when neither of you expect it.

Bowls of meat dishes, even seafood (because Jin liked seafood even though you hated it), rice dishes and vegetables were neatly arranged on the table. The flavorful aromas wafts into your nose and your mouth waters. Looking over to Jin, you see the same thoughts reflected on his face and grin at him.

Appa also loved seafood, specifically fish and octopus- both him and Jin would often tease you about how you had no taste. To which you always responded, “I would rather die than eat something that crawls on the ocean floor. You don’t know where it’s been!”

“The same could be said about chicken and beef-”

“I prefer my meat to be a land animal, thanks.”

“Jin,” You say suddenly, “How are your parents? Your sister? I texted her the other day, but I’m sure she’s busy with school...”

“You tell me, Ma told me that you called her the other day,” Jin says wryly, “You probably talk to her more than I do.”

“You should call your parents, Seokjin,” Grandma scolds and Jin gives her a sheepish grin, “Go visit them soon. Your Ma told me she misses you.”

“Oh, fine, everyone can just gang up on me then, I guess,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Next time I go home, you and grandma should come with me. I’ll get scolded by them too if I don’t bring you.”

“Oh, well when you put it that way, you make it sound so enticing, Seokjin,” You scoff, getting up to get a drink, “D’you want soju or wine?”

“Wine,” Grandma chirps.

“Soju,” Seokjin replies.

“I’ll drive you home, Jin. Enjoy yourself,” You wink at him despite his protests.

***

Jin is quiet in the car, his attention undivided to his phone. You don’t mind, but you see his phone lighting up every few seconds. An occasional smile and breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he types away.

You even see a heart emoji or two on the screen.

“Who are you textin’? You got a secret lover or somethin’?” You tease. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t deny you. Instead, the tips of his ears go red and your smile fades.

“Uh,” Jin says, “Not a secret lover… Just a girl that I met a few weeks ago.”

“Oh,” You say, in a strangled voice, “Cool. Awesome. I’m happy for you.”

It hurts you more than it should, that Jin hadn’t told you about the woman he’s been seeing for the last few weeks. He knew it too- your heart and your emotions are always on your sleeve, at least to him. He starts to ask you to come inside so that you can talk, but your face is tightened in hurt, and the words die on his lips.

Your smile was forced when you had dropped him off at his apartment building, ignoring the sudden wave of sadness that tumbled over you. Did he not trust you enough to tell you? Have you been a bad friend to him, that he felt like he couldn’t tell you?

You can’t recall the last time he had intentionally hidden something like that from you. You swallow tears down nervously, wiping your eyes and subtly shaking your head to focus on driving home.

Maybe you have been a bad friend lately. Have you asked about him enough? Does he know that you cherish him? Memories of the last few weeks replay in your head, wondering if you had done something to push him away.

But before you can leave the curb, Jin is sprinting from the building and towards you like a madman. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and hair blowing with the wind.

In all of your years of friendship, Jin never lets you leave him when he knew you were upset. He knew how your silly mind worked, how if you revelled in your own thoughts you would end up spiraling further and further away from him.

He slides into the passenger seat of the car, not even admonishing you for leaving the doors unlocked after he had left.

Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“Listen to me,” Jin says, turning to you and holding your face in his hands as if you’ll break, “I didn’t tell you about her because… if I told you about her, it would make it so much more real. I don’t know if me and her are real yet. I can’t introduce you to her yet because I don’t know. And you know I need your approval, otherwise she’s gone.”

He says it lightly, to get you to smile and it works but tears drop from your eyes anyway.

“You could’ve still told me you were seeing someone,” You say in a small voice, “You’ve told me every other time…”

“This time feels different,” Jin admits, “But you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you’re being too clingy. You scoff out loud, already wanting to curl into yourself and forget about your stupid heart.

“God, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry I freaked out,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes, “I know you’d tell me if it was important.”

“Don’t apologize for me hurting you,” Jin says, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Have I been a good friend to you, Jin?” You whisper after a beat and Jin’s eyes widen. He feels terrible for making you doubt yourself and doubt your friendship with him.

“What? Of course you’ve been a good friend. What’s going on?”

“I just- Maybe you didn’t want to tell me because I haven’t been a great friend to you. I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t showed you-”

“Stop,” Jin whispers, “Stop that.”

And that’s so very you, thinking that you had done something to upset him. When really, it was him who actively chose not to tell you out of his own fears.

You normally don’t really like hugs. Or being touched. Except by Jin. The exception has always been Jin.

“Can I have a hug?” You mumble quietly, looking up at him with red eyes.

Jin coos softly at you, pulling you in tightly to his chest over the console of the car. He rubs your back, waiting for you to calm down as you inhale him in generously.

“If I was upset with you, you know I would tell you. I love you too much to let you get away from me,” Jin murmurs into your ear, “You’re my best friend. When I say that I didn’t tell you because it terrifies me to be in something serious, that’s all it means. Telling you makes it serious, and that’s all it is. Please trust me?”

“I do, I do,” You mumble, face pressed into his purple sweater, “Of course I trust you. It’s my own mind I feel like I can’t trust sometimes. That’s… that’s not a fair reaction to have. It’s not fair...

Jin looks at you for a long moment, and you already know what is going to come out of his mouth. Because it’s something you’ve been thinking about more and more frequently over the past few weeks.

And because you both seem to almost always be on the same wavelength.

There’s a far away look in his eyes. He waits for you to say something, not wanting to upset you further.

“I think… I think I should see someone. Sometimes I feel like I’m just losing control. It scares me how quick I spiral,” You mumble. Meeting his eyes is difficult for you in your vulnerability, so you just don’t.

Jin yanks you into his chest again and hugs you tight. You’re both silent for a few minutes, your grip on his sweater starting to loosen.

“Hey,” Jin finally says, “I’m proud of you. I’m here for you, and I’ll help you find someone.”

“Jin,” You breathe, shaking your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Last time we talked about this, we fought so much. We didn’t even talk for like, three days. Which is a record for us,” Jin chuckles, “Of course, I’ll help you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly in gratitude, giving him a tender smile.

“Hey. When you finally do decide that you like this girl,” You say, “Let’s have drinks together. She’s different, I can tell. Haven’t seen you blush at a text like that like… ever. And I want to meet whoever makes you this happy.”

“Yeah,” Jin nods, cheeks reddening at the mention of the woman he likes, “Yes, I’ll coordinate with her-”

“Like, remember that girl you were seeing during our third year? The one who threw up in your shoes, forgot about it, and then blamed it on me? Let’s hope your new girl won’t throw up in your shoes, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jin says and elbow you gently, “You hated her from the beginning.”

“The vibes were just off, Seokjin. You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” You laugh.

Silence falls between you both again, the setting sun pulling you away from your comfortable bubble.

“I should get going. Grandma’s probably wondering what’s taking so long,” You lament and almost shyly give him another hug.

Jin presses a long kiss to your forehead. You’re certain you might combust, you’re not used to being touched like this. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.

“I mean it,” Jin says, “I’m really proud of you.”

He says it so strongly, so full of conviction and love for you that you’re almost proud of yourself, too.

***

Tonight is a late night with Jungkook and Sana. Namjoon had entrusted the next slate of deliverables to you this week, as he was out of the office for the majority of the week. So, you had straightened your back and got to work, outlining exactly what had to be done for the first workshop taking place in Tokyo in exactly one month.

You booked the conference room, your favorite one with the big projector and the nicer chairs, for the later half of the day. When it began to look like you were going to have to stay late, you told Jungkook and Sana to go home.

But they both vehemently refused to leave you, and that itself brought a small smile to your face.

But Namjoon is still neurotic enough to text you at least twice during the week to see how things are going. At first, you had been startled- hardly anyone ever texts you besides Grandma and Seokjin. But then you relaxed when you realized it was just Namjoon texting you for work.

It had thrown you off when he had continued the conversation, speaking to you as if you were more than coworkers, and as if you were friends.

Jin had looked at you like you had three heads when you voiced your confusion-

“What are you talking about? Namjoon talks about you all the time, he always says how funny you are and how you keep everyone in check at work. He even mentioned those recipes you sent to him. Of course you both are friends,” Jin says, his eyes softening when your lips open in surprise.

You’re rendered to contemplation by that. Had you always been that dense? Not realizing when people liked you?

It was something to discuss at your next appointment with your therapist.

“Your boss is stressing me out,” You joke to Jungkook, “Dude’s on vacation and he’s still worried about work.”

Jungkook freezes, his tongue seemingly stuck in his mouth. You’re looking at him with a disarming smile and he’s just not used to it.

“Uh,” He manages, “I’m still trying to figure out what makes him tick. But I think he’s always had to carry the load for projects, maybe it’s a habit to break…”

“Yeah,” You snort, “Because he’s never had me as a lead on one of his projects. Namjoon’s been cursed with shitty teams before. But not this time.”

“What does that mean?” Sana asks curiously, looking up from her laptop.

“It means that sometimes directors and senior directors don’t know what the hell they’re doing and they don’t know how to strategize,” You say dryly, “The Tokyo team won’t know what hit them. And we’re gonna make our bosses look great.”

The last bit comes out bitterly without it meaning to.

You lean back in your chair and take your blazer off. Jungkook gulps despite himself at the sight of your tanned arms and the brief expanse of your neck. He feels like he’s twenty-one again, shyly watching you speak animatedly to him at your favorite coffee shop.

The sound of your voice yanks him back to reality and he blinks at you.

“I think we still have just one more thing to finalize…” You murmur, flipping through your notes, “It’s already late, I can finish the rest at home-”

“Wait, I really want to stay, but I can’t- I have to take my dad to an appointment,” Sana says, about to apologize but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“Go then, seriously. You should’ve told me you couldn’t stay late,” You scold lightly, “Work will always be there, Sana. Time won’t.”

You offer her another smile and she smiles nervously back at you.

“Wait, before you go- let me get your phone number,” You murmur, ignoring the way your heartbeat rushes in anticipation.

Your therapist has been helping you get comfortable in your own skin and allow yourself the apparent luxury of leaning on others. You figure that part of that is accepting and seeking friendship from others. You’ve only had several sessions with her, but you feel something after each session.

“Our boss never asked for my phone number when I started,” Sana says dryly when she gives you a missed call and you text her so she has your number.

“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if he even remembers my name,” You say lightly, keeping your face in a warm smile.

Jungkook has never seen you smile so much. Not recently at least. It’s… different. He hates to revel in the past, in the version of you that he knew. But he wonders if he ever really knew you at all. The only thing familiar about you is your smile and your eyes.

He doesn’t even realize it, but his tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek.

He wonders if you still even have his phone number. He wonders if you’d even ask for it.

“Jungkook, I can finish this at home if you have somewhere to be,” You offer with a shrug and stretch your arms outward.

“Nah, let’s finish this now,” Jungkook says shortly.

He’s nothing if not a perfectionist.

“Yeah, tomorrow’s Friday anyway. D’you wanna do one last review tomorrow morning and then we can go home early?” You pose it like a question, but really, it’s a demand.

“Sounds good.”

“Wanna order dinner? Since we’ll be here for a while,” You suggest, already googling takeout options.

Jungkook shrugs noncommittally, instead working to spell check the document you had been working on previously.

“How do you feel about fried rice? Or… pizza? You used to love pineapple on pizza right?” You ask airily.

Jungkook has whiplash. Again. How can you remember something so insignificant about him and still be such a stranger to him?

“Yeah, pineapple on pizza is a way of life. Pineapple and jalapeno on pizza, specifically,” Jungkook says, not looking up from his laptop.

His tongue is poking his cheek again, but you don’t notice. At least, he doesn’t think he does.

“I’ll get a pie of pineapple and jalapeno then. And maybe some garlic bread,” You muse, putting your credit card information into the website.

“Wait, I can pay, too,” Jungkook protests when he sees you whip out your card.

“You can get it next time,” You shrug carelessly and absent-mindedly scratch at your forearms, then your cheek.

Next time? Jungkook barely gives it a second thought, his eyes catching on the smattering of tattoos and the swirl of colors on your wrist. He doesn’t know how he missed it, but it’s not often that he is ever this close to you.

Those are new, and he subtly looks at his own tattoos before sneaking a glance at yours.

You lean back in your chair, watching what Jungkook is doing on the projector. You pull up several documents on your own laptop to fact check the document. You both develop an easy rhythm of you telling him what to add and him typing away, and you continue like that even as the pizza and garlic bread arrives. You had quickly dipped out and brought the food to the conference room before Jungkook could even protest.

He reads each paragraph after it’s completed, briefly scanning to see if anything more needs to be included.

“Can you check this sentence, on the acquisitions piece? It doesn’t sound accurate…” Jungkook says thoughtfully. The smell of the pizza leaves his mouth watering but he just wants to finish this one last sentence...

You hum in agreement, leaning back further and relaxing your hands behind your head. You feel like your eyes are beginning to cross as an initial wave of hunger passes through you.

“Let’s eat instead,” You announce, standing up abruptly.

You quickly send a text to Grandma, telling her that you’ll already have eaten dinner by the time you get home. You toss a set of plates and napkins to Jungkook, gesturing for him to take as many slices as he wants.

Jungkook watches you inhale three slices of pizza in less than seven minutes, a small spattering of sauce at the corner of your lips.

“Can’t believe I was ever the type of person to openly hate on pineapple on pizza,” You moan, kicking your legs up onto the chair next to you and looking at Jungkook, “Remember how much shit I used to talk on pineapple on pizza? As if it didn’t belong…”

He does remember. He remembers how you would always make fun of him for it, until he had convinced you to try a slice. And then you had fallen in love. But your hot and cold behavior stings and he doesn’t want to entertain it. Or entertain you. You spent so long acting like you didn’t know him, and now you want to talk about old memories?

Nah. He could be petty, too.

Jungkook shrugs, “Not really. It was a while ago.”

His normally warm, brown eyes are distant, and far away as his glance passes over you and to his laptop. Jungkook turns away from you, his hair nearly covering his eyes and typing rapidly.

Like he’d rather be anywhere but next to you.

You don’t really blame him, but you ignore the brief, dissipating sting at his sudden coldness.

“Do you have roommates?” You ask abruptly.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks, taken aback by the question.

“Roommates? There’s a lot of extra food and I live with my grandma. She won’t eat this,” You explain, waving to the boxes of food in front of you.

“Oh. Yeah I’ve got a roommate, I’ll take it home,” Jungkook replies.

Your grandmother?

You nod and swallow to alleviate the sudden dryness of your throat. You both work the remainder of the hour in silence for the most part, occasional questions and thoughts being thrown around as Jungkook types. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jungkook finally stands up, stretching his legs and his back. You avert your eyes when his baby blue dress shirt rides up a little as he stretches his arms. You catch the inky trails on his forearm (his sleeves are pulled up at the elbow) and his fingers and you wonder, not for the first time, how this was the boy you knew all those years ago.

All those years ago. The words, the memories that you’ve somehow forced into a box have slowly been unfurling. The mental block that you’ve had over your time in graduate school is linked to memories of your dad getting sick and passing away. You’re not dense- you know why you avoid Jungkook, at the heart of it. Seeing him that first day reminded you so much of when you were happy.

Your therapist put it in words when you couldn’t. It’s quite embarrassing you think, how much Jungkook has come up during your therapy sessions. The appearance of him also brought on seemingly unwanted memories of your father. It makes sense.

“We’re done,” Jungkook exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, “We’ll look over it tomorrow with Sana and send it to Namjoon.”

“Yeah,” You say a little breathlessly, “Thanks, Jungkook. For… for everything, I guess.”

His eyes are wide, doe-like and familiar.

“Thanks for the food,” He grins, flashing you his bunny smile.

“It’s on you next time,” You say easily, packing your things up and slinging your blazer over your shoulder.

You don’t care. You know that your boss and other men in general have looked at you in offense when you show skin. But you don’t care. What did it matter, at the end of the day?

Even if Jungkook is annoyed at you for whatever reason, you don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your body. At least you’ve got him there, even if he can’t stand the sight of you.

You elicit a laugh from yourself that Jungkook doesn’t hear.

You both walk in silence to your respective cars. Before you part ways, you dig some courage out from your spine and ignore the way your hands tremble-

“Hey,” You call softly, “I-uh- still have your phone number. Don’t flatter yourself-” When you see him grin confidently at you, “I’ll start a group chat with us and Namjoon. And umm… Great work today. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

You visibly cringe. You’re going soft.

“I knew it, you’re obsessed with me,” Jungkook teases and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips.

“It’s only ‘cause I kept forgetting to delete your number,” You shoot back, without any real heat behind your words.

Jungkook smiles warmly at you, teeth on full display and eyes sparkling and god, you never want him to look at you with emptiness in his eyes ever again.

***

You look, simply put, like shit. Despite the concealer you had dabbed to your undereyes, you feel every bit as exhausted as you look.

But nobody picks up on it, except for you. Your lipstick is meticulous as it always is, not even a single hair is out of place and your outfit is crisp. Despite the misery coursing through your veins, you still have an image to upkeep.

Fake it till you make it, as you’ve always said.

You’re currently in a half day team meeting with your submissions team and your respective bosses. Today is not the day to be tired. And yet, you’re on your second cup of coffee and it’s not even 11 AM yet.

It’s been a rough few weeks since the last late night planning session you had with Jungkook and Sana. Therapy has been getting harder and more frustrating to work through- your therapist, Dr. Lee, is asking you questions that you genuinely don’t want to answer.

Your session a few weeks ago had ended with you being a smartass and avoiding every single question. And she took all of it. She was truly an angel, you think. And then you decide to give it a chance, give her at least an inch.

She asks you about graduate school. Why you don’t want to talk about it. Why Jungkook sets you off, why the mention of your former mentee sent you into a frenzy. She asks you about your dad. About your mom.

She puts the pieces together for you, until you sort of see the fully painted picture. That it’s all connected- school, your dad, why the last five years have felt like a blur to you. Because you’ve been avoiding all of it, and what all of it means.

You feel especially vulnerable and exposed. You’re not used to it- you feel like everyone can see right through you. You feel like everyone can see right through you and see you for the person you are.

You don’t know what’s more terrifying- being seen, or not being seen at all.

It’s two weeks until the first workshop in Tokyo, which is why you’re gathered with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook and your respective bosses.

You at least straighten your back for this meeting, not wanting to allow room for your boss to criticize you. You don’t think you can handle it, not today. You’re struggling with staying focused, but you try your best.

When you present your portion of the slide deck, outlining exactly what you’ll be doing with the team in Tokyo during the first workshop, your boss cuts you off with a derisive chuckle that makes your blood boil.

“You should put some emotion into it and smile a little. It wouldn’t kill ya,” Your boss says with a smug grin. As if he knows how much it gets under your skin. Which he does, you’re certain of it.

You could take it to HR, you know you could. But you don’t want trouble. You don’t want to be painted as the villain. You wanted to rise above it, but right now, you just want to cry.

“I’ll smile with the Tokyo team, don’t you worry,” You grit your teeth. When I actually have something to smile for.

The air is tense all of a sudden, and it’s your fault. Of course it is. Your boss and Namjoon’s boss look at you as if you have ten heads. Nobody says a word, and you want to scream at all of them. And cry at the same time.

“She’s doing great,” Comes Namjoon’s steady voice from the head of the table.

“Yeah, she put this presentation together. She’s got this in the bag,” Jungkook adds, offering you a small smile. His eyes sparkle at you.

“We’re a great team, you know. It’s really great that you put us together,” Sana says, looking at your boss with acid in her eyes. Not that he can tell.

This time, you really do want to cry. You don’t think anyone at this godforsaken company has ever stuck up for you that way, besides Seokjin. You swallow the tears down and give them a watery smile before continuing on.

You continue on.

***

The first workshop in Tokyo is in two days, and Namjoon wanted to have a little teambuilding night before you all left, just to loosen the nerves. You’re about ten minutes early to the bar, as you usually are to places that you’re invited to. You hate to be late- that was something your Grandma had instilled in you from a young age.

You text her saying you’ve arrived and thank your Uber driver for the ride. Normally, you would’ve just driven, but you know better than to go out for drinks with Jin and think that you’d be okay to drive at the end of the night.

You’re glad Jin will be coming. Seeing your colleagues outside of work unnerves you to no end. So you’re glad that Jin will be there as your buffer. Namjoon had asked him to come, as they were friends outside of work, too.

You grab a booth for the five of you and tap your freshly done nails on the sleek, matte black table. It’s a nice place, you observe. Namjoon has good taste. It’s not often that you come out like this. To bars, and so far outside of your comfort zone. The only time you would ever be seen at a bar was with Jin, and it wasn’t that often to begin with.

You take to admiring your newly painted mint green nails as you text your group chat with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook letting them know that you’ve arrived. And you send a loud ‘where the hell are you’ text to Jin.

It’s a relatively mild evening, so you had decided to wear your heeled boots, a black flowy top that showcases a peek of the tattoo near your clavicle and dipped generously into your chest tucked into black jeans and you had even done your makeup up more so than what you usually do for work. Grandma had jokingly asked you if she should stay at her friend’s house for the night, in case you were bringing someone home.

To which you had protested and rolled your eyes.

“Look at you,” Jin says loudly, sliding into the booth next to you. He startled you and caused you to jump, “Brought out the lipstick, huh?”

“Shut up, I always wear lipstick at work,” You roll your eyes.

“Red lipstick?” Jin asks with a suspicious arch of his eyebrow.

Okay, fine, that wasn’t as normal. But still, it makes you feel pretty.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You grumble, elbowing him. He laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing tightly.

“I’m not. You look pretty tonight,” Jin says and you give him a beaming smile.

“That implies that I’m not always pretty.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Hey!” You gasp and shove his shoulder. You know he’s only joking, evidenced from the way you both burst out laughing.

“I’m only friends with pretty people, I told you,” Jin says cockily.

“You’re such a dick,” You mutter and roll your eyes for the millionth time already.

Before you can pester him about his mysterious woman that you have yet to meet, Jungkook, Namjoon and Sana eventually trickle in as well. Jungkook waves a quick hello, smile beaming at Jin, and sits across from you. Sana sits next to him and Namjoon sits next to Jin.

You can hardly meet Jungkook’s sparkling eyes, but you force yourself to. He looks good, great even- his hair is soft and wavy over his eyes and he’s dressed in all black. You wonder what the majority of his wardrobe is- is it all black? Does he like bright colors? His lips are dewy and red tinted, as if he had just swiped some cherry chapstick on. The silver of the small hoop on his ears glints in the dimness of the bar.

Jungkook forces his eyes away from the darkened red curve of your lips, from the swell of your chest and meets your gaze with a smile. The moment is broken when Jin squeezes into you to get you to move over and you nearly shriek at the sudden weight thrown to your side.

“Jin! What’s wrong with you,” You shake your head.

“There’s so much space over there! Move over,” Jin says petulantly, “Namjoon’s basically falling off the seat!”

“You could’ve just said so,” You grumble, “Dumbass.”

You say the last bit under your breath but Jin hears it, and Jungkook does, too. Sana breaks out into laughter, hiding her giggles behind her hand. You shoot her a faux glare that quickly melts into a smile.

“What shall we order, ladies and gentlemen and Jin?” You say, ignoring Jin’s affronted gasp.

“Soju,” Jungkook and Namjoon say at the same time and grin at each other.

“No wonder he’s your boss,” Sana says, earning a chorus of laughs from the table.

“The only question Namjoon asked me during the interview was ‘what’s your favorite alcohol’,” Jungkook says and his eyes flit to you when you laugh.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Namjoon knows how to have a good time,” You wink behind Jin at Namjoon and he winks right back at you.

“I’ll have… blueberry,” Sana says definitively and sees your skeptical glance, “What? Blueberry soju is one of three flavors with rights.”

“Strawberry, peach, and pineapple are the best ones,” You protest.

“Are you kidding? Apple and green grape are the best-”

“Why are you yelling? I’m right.”

“Peach and green grape are the best,” Jungkook chimes in, ignoring the stutter of his heartbeat when you beam at him.

“See? Jungkook has taste-”

“He said green grape, too-”

“But he said peach first-”

The waitress comes and all of you cease your bickering to give her your orders of drinks and snacks. She looks guilty for a minute for interrupting your conversation, but Jin waves her off.

“Don’t feel bad, they’re all idiots,” Jin says, and you shove him on behalf of your colleagues. He rattles off the order to the waitress and she’s on her merry way.

Once your drinks arrive in the middle of another heated conversation about seafood, Jungkook takes a long swig of his soju to calm his nerves. Specifically, his nerves around you. He’s quiet generally, but he’s not this quiet. He wonders if you remember. If you remember that he dislikes clubs and crowded places, preferring the quiet of a bar or even better- the quiet of home.

You absently rub the back of your neck, your shirt slipping a little off of your shoulder slightly. And revealing another tattoo, as if it was a present just for his eyes. How many do you have? Are they hidden? Do you keep them hidden on purpose?

He could keep it together around you at work, under the pretense of professionalism. Never offering more than what you offer. If you smile, he’ll smile. If you bark at him, he’ll stay silent. But this is uncharted territory. He can forget about how cold you had been in the beginning, he can forget about how much it hurt. But only if you look at him the way you’re looking at him right now. Only if you look at him with those starry eyes that wrap around him and choke him from inside.

Jungkook doesn’t understand- he doesn’t know you, not really. How is he still this attracted to you? He had chalked it up to the same crush he had when he was twenty-one. But it feels different. And you have no idea. It’ll continue to stay that way, until he can move past it. He deserves better than someone who was as cold and callous as you.

But you weren’t cold or callous, were you? No- the sunburst of a smile on your face says otherwise. The way you rib Jin and try to make sure that everyone feels included in the conversation says otherwise.

Before he can continue his train of thought, you turn your gaze sharply to him. Your red lips break apart to call his name, and he realizes you’re talking to him.

“Jungkook? Here’s your drink,” You say, passing his peach soju to him, “I got peach, too.”

“Because we have taste,” Jungkook murmurs and you grin.

“Cheers to Tokyo,” Namjoon says, “We’re gonna be great. I’m glad we’re a team-”

“Hey, I’m not on your team,” Jin protests and you elbow him again.

“Shut up, Jin, just let Namjoon toast to us. Not everything’s about you,” You hiss at Jin and he pouts. You tip your bottle to the center to meet Namjoon’s bottle and Jin dramatically follows suit.

“As I was saying,” Namjoon glares at Jin playfully, “We’ve done great work, and I know this team can do anything. I’m glad it’s us. We’re going to knock it out of the park.”

“Cheers, Joon, you’ve been a great team leader,” Sana says with a bright smile.

“Yeah, a little neurotic, but the best leader I’ve ever had,” You wink at him.

“Glad you’re my boss, Namjoon,” Jungkook says, sincerity dripping off of his tongue, “I’m honored to call you my boss.”

Namjoon beams at you all, dimples on full display and eyes shining. You clink bottles eagerly and take a long swig of your drink, meeting Jungkook’s swirling eyes briefly. Once he pulls his bottle away from his mouth, you’re instantly drawn to the wet sheen of his lips and his tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip.

Your cheeks heat up, and has it always been this warm or is it just you? You can’t help yourself, watching Jungkook’s tongue poke out once more and circling his lips again. You itch your chin nervously, out of habit before ripping your eyes away from him.

You pull away immediately when you remember where you are. And who you are. He’s your colleague, nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

It’s two and a half bottles of soju later, two peach and one green grape that you’re currently nursing, when your cheeks feel hot and you’re certain your words are starting to slur. You can hear the tipsy higher pitch of your voice when you speak.

You haven’t felt tipsy like this in a long time, and the fact that it's in front of your colleagues sets you on edge. You try to stay as quiet as you can so you don’t make a fool of yourself, but you want to engage with them. They don’t feel like just colleagues. They feel like your friends.

Or they feel like they could be your friends. If you allow them in. Your heart grows fond of the sentiment. The sentiment grows when Sana brings you to the dance floor to dance and sing along to songs with her. The bar has gotten considerably more packed since you had first arrived, and you don’t recall the last time you were surrounded by this many people your age. The lights are dimmed but bright enough that you can see Sana’s bright, happy eyes.

You subconsciously look for Jin, spotting him at the bar with Jungkook and Namjoon. He waves the both of you over and you gesture to Sana.

Jin already has shots lined up for you and Sana but you hesitate.

“I don’t know Jin,” You protest, “I don’t do well with shots…”

Before Jin can tease you and tell you that he’ll take yours for you, you hear Jungkook’s voice on your right side.

“I’ll take yours for you,” Jungkook shrugs, “Since Jin already got them.”

“Oh- uh- thanks,” You say sheepishly.

Your face feels warm again and your heart does a funny thing that you don’t recognize. You shift closer to him to hand him your shot glass, and you lean closer to him without realizing it. The warmth he radiates is intoxicating, more so than the liquor in the shot glass you think.

Jungkook only spares you a quick glance before throwing the shot glass back easily, as if it was practiced. A glint of a silver necklace around his throat catches your eye, the column of his throat nearly glowing with the dimmed lighting.

“Tequila, Jin? Really?” Jungkook winces, washing the taste down with the drink in his hand.

Jin only shrugs and makes his way over to you and Jungkook, wrapping his arms around both sets of shoulders.

The three of you haven’t been together, not like this, since-

“Feels like old times, huh?” Jin says, lips pursing into a tipsy grin, “We were stupid kids.”

“Now we’re stupid adults,” You laugh, but your laugh fades away quickly at the pensive, somewhat cold look on Jungkook’s face.

“Old times…” Jungkook muses, “It was so long ago. We’re all so different now, huh?”

Even if he’s looking at Jin, you get the feeling he’s talking directly to you.

“A lot of time has gone by, a lot has happened since then,” You reply airily, raring up on the defensive just in case.

Jungkook says nothing, only shifting his gaze to you. The iciness around his brown irises breaks apart slowly, but his jaw is set and his lips pursed in a line.

“Oh, really? A lot happened since then?” Jungkook says, voice leveled. It’s unfamiliar, the uncharacteristic coldness in his voice. You’re only used to his bunny smiles and warmth. Again, that was from years ago. And like he had said- you were all different now.

You say nothing, holding your secrets back with your red lips. You owe him nothing. He’s only a colleague, right?

Then why does it hurt the way it does?

Jin releases his hold on the both of you, picking up on the sudden tension between you both. There are a thousand things Jungkook wants to say to you, a thousand questions- How have you been? What have you been up to, all these years? Why are you living with your grandma?

Instead, steel curls in his eyes and ice in his throat.

Jungkook shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll end up hurting you. And he can’t do that. But apparently, he can’t just ask you how you’re doing, either.

You don’t really blame him for his sharp tongue.

Jin looks between the two of you with concerned, raised eyebrows, clearly feeling the unspoken tension. You want to melt into the floor so you diffuse the situation the only way you know how.

“I gotta pee, I’ll be back,” You mutter quickly and don’t bother to meet their eyes before making a hasty exit.

Jin already has texted you, asking if everything’s okay. You text him a quick yes before touching up on your lipstick and giving yourself room to breathe. You stay in the bathroom for a few minutes before heading back out and pretending like the look in Jungkook’s eyes isn’t piercing every part of the wall you’ve built up.

You avoid speaking to him directly for the rest of the night, and he avoids you. You can’t help casting glances at him when you think he isn’t looking. You feel like apologizing, but you don’t know why. So you don’t, and you bury it.

But at the end of the night, he tells you to get home safe. And that he’ll see you at the airport on Friday. You reciprocate his sentiments, carefully looking into his irises to make sure that the coldness in his eyes isn’t directed toward you.

Jin pulls you away from the group for a minute-

“Stay the night with me. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with a stranger for thirty minutes in an Uber,” Jin suggests, “And Grandma will kill me if she finds out I let you go home alone.”

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I’ll text her.”

You and Jin say your goodbyes. Normally, you’d be worried about how the optics of you leaving to go home with Jin looks to your colleagues, but tonight you don’t really feel like caring. You know Namjoon knows of the nature of your friendship with Jin. The rest doesn’t matter.

Jungkook watches you leave with Jin. Namjoon and Sana have already called an Uber together, since they lived in the same apartment complex. Neither of them see Jin drape his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of them see you wrap an arm around Jin’s upper arm and lean your head against it as you walk further and further away.

Neither of them hear his heart ache in this crowded street of Seoul, when his brain was telling him that it had no reason to.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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annabeth707 · 3 years

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@collecterofshinythingsgremlin You asked for a Psych fic so here is what may be the worst thing I've ever written.

Psych AU, where Lassie and Shawn used to be a couple before a break up.

Chapter 1: The Pilot

1986

“You do your homework?” A younger Henry asks Young Shawn.

“Uh-huh.” Shawn replies.

“Finish those beets?”

“Yep, can I have the fudge cake now?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Dad, I don’t wanna…”

“Now.”

“Ugh,” Shawn replies, shutting his eyes.

“Which letter in the exit sign is out?” Henry asks.

“The x.”

“What color is the vinyl?”

“What’s vinyl?” Shawn asks.

“The stuff these seats are covered in.”

“Purple.”

“Maroon, close enough. What’s the manager's name?”

“Who?”

“She’s wearing a name tag. The woman standing at the front door when we first walked in, you saw her.”

“Marie. Can I have the cake yet?”

“How many hats?”

“Ugh, come on Dad!” Shawn says exasperatedly.

“Shawn, you want a piece of cake? How many hats are in the room?” Shawn his eyes closed, thinks hard.

“Does a beanie count?”

“What do you think?”

“Three.”

“You didn’t describe them.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Times almost up, Shawn.”

“One has a flower, the one the lady’s wearing. One has a picture of some kind of lion, on the weird guy with the crooked tooth. The last one is on the chef,” Shawn replies.

“What about the beanie?”

“A beanie’s a can not a hat.”

“Alright, open your eyes,” Henry says, and Shawn does.

“Thank you!” Shawn replies.

“Wow that’s amazing,” the manager Marie says.

“It’s adequate. Get him his cake,” Henry says.

“I guess I know what you’re gonna be when you grow up,” Marie says.

“Oh, I’m never going to grow up, ma’am,” Shawn replies.

2006

Shawn stumbles into his apartment with his date for the night. As they lay down on the couch Shawn bumps the remote accidentally turning on the TV, and the news starts playing. On the news is the coverage of a police investigation of a Stereo Shop that got robbed Shawn leans over and grabs the phone. “What are you doing?” His Date asks.

“Calling the police, I think I just closed a case.”

“Are you a cop?”

“Oh, no, no, no. Definitely not a cop,” Shawn says before talking into the phone. “Ah, it’s the store manager he did it.”

“Pardon me?” The woman asks.

“Uh, the stereo robberies, at Divisions chain store. He’s on Channel 8 News right now. His hands, nervous tick, dead giveaway. And he won’t look the reporter in the eyes.” He pauses as the woman asks for his name. “My name? My name is Shawn Spencer.” He hangs up the phone before saying to his date, “Also, the tags on the news van have expired but that’s a completely other issue.

Later at the Police Station

Detectives Carlton Lassiter and Lucinda Barry, are questioning the manager of the shop that got robbed.

“Fine, I confess I did do it, but I had a partner in,” The manager eventually confesses. They have Officer McNab come in and take him to a cell.

“So, now we just need to find this partner of his,” Lucinda says.

“What was the name of the man who called this in?” Lassiter asks.

“Shawn, Shawn Spencer,” she replies. Lassiter feels a twang in his chest at the name. “You think he’s the partner?”

“He did tip us in on the manager when he wasn’t even really a suspect.”

“Let’s see what we can pull up on this, Shawn Spencer,” Lucinda replies.

Later

Shawn walks into the Santa Barbara Police Station, hoping to get commendation for calling in his tip. He gets directed over to a bench but not before he notices the cop’s desk covered in lucky charms. As Shawn takes a seat on the bench he listens in on the cop’s phone call. “Eighty dollars is a lot for a reading. But she was astounding, I mean, she knew about Granny’s childhood, and the curious she left Bobby, I mean, I could literally feel her spirit in the room,” The cop says to her friend. Shawn turns his attention to the man next to him who has the word Bloodthirsty tattooed on his forehead.

“Get out of here,” Shawn says. “You know I have the same tattoo. They spelled bloodthirsty’ wrong on mine, can you believe it?” The man lunges at Shawn but is handcuffed to the bench. “I can’t believe you didn’t test that out first.” A door opens and Shawn spies Buzz McNab practicing his dance steps. Shawn returns his attention to the man next to him. “What did you do? Bust up your ex wife’s car?”

“Her new boyfriends,” he replies.

“That’ll teach her.”

“They got no witnesses.”

“Sweet. But you might want to brush the taillight off your sleeve.”

“Gee Thanks,” He brushes them off but they fall into his boot. Buzz comes and escorts Shawn to an interrogation room where two detectives are waiting.

“What’s going on?” Shawn asks. The detectives turn to look at him, and with a pang in his chest he recognizes the male detective. It was Carlton Lassiter or as Shawn used to call him Carly. He had dated the detective years before but they broke up when the detective had left for the police academy and they had decided it would be easier to break up then have Shawn move with him.

“Where were you on the night of the last robbery?” Lassiter asks him.

“I was robbing a stereo store,” Shawn says sarcastically. “I wasn’t and I don’t know, I guess I was doing the same as you were doing. Not solving crime. So what happened with the manager?”

“He confessed but he said that he had a partner.”

“And you think I’m a suspect? Really Lassie? Should I call you Lassie or go back to Carly?”

“You’re our lead suspect, Spencer.”

“Do you guys know each other? Lucinda asks.

“We used to be friends before I entered the academy.” Lassiter says. Before turning back to Shawn goes on to explain why Shawn is the lead suspect. A little while later the officer from the front desk, Officer Allen shows up and cuffs Shawn, they move out into the hallway next to some holding cells.

“Oh, come on, cuffs? What? For the walk back to the lobby?”

“Or you could give us a plausible explanation,” Lucinda says.

“Okay, okay. Fine, you win. I got the information, because… I’m a psychic.” Officer Allen drops the cuffs.

“Get him out of here,” Lassiter says.

“Oh, boy,” Shawn says. “You grandma would be proud,” he says looking at Allen.

“You spoke to her?” She asks.

“I did. She’s safe, comfortable. She wants you to stop spending all your money on those charlatans.”

“The palm readers?”

“The palm readers,” Shawn confirms.

“Okay, just to be clear,” Lucinda says. “You’re claiming to be psychic, Mr. Spencer.”

“How else would I know that you two have been sleeping together?” he says to the detectives.“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One…” he turns to Buzz. “When’s the wedding?”

“May 3rd,” Buzz replies. “Wait how’d you know?”

“I’m getting dance lessons for a wedding reception. And you are getting good.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

“Oh, come on. Who’s buying this?” Lassiter asks. Buzz and one of the prisoners raise their hands.

“I got it,” Shawn says. “Go to detention room number two, shake down your vandal. You’ll find all the evidence you need.” Shawn starts shaking his left foot. “All the evidence is in his left shoe.” A little while later Shawn leaves the precinct before getting stopped by the Chief.

(You know what happens, might fill in later)

“It’s him!” It’s McCallum! I can see his face! The killer is McCallum. Check his wrist! Check his right wrist! The teeth marks will line up!”

“How did you do that?” Lassiter asks Shawn a few minutes later.

“I wish I knew,” Shawn replies.

Later that Same Day

Shawn was in his apartment when he heard a knock on his door. He got up from the couch where he was sitting and walked over to the door. Shawn opened the door to reveal Lassiter standing there. “Can I talk to you Shawn?” The man asks.

“Yeah, come on in.” They walk over to the couch. “Can I get you a beer?” Shawn asks walking over to the fridge.

“Sure,” Lassiter replies. Shawn grabs two beers and joins Lassiter on the couch and hands him one.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Shawn asks.

“Well,” Lassiter says. “When I saw you in the station and when we were together while working the case, I could feel my feelings for you returning and I tried to suppress them the entire time, but I don’t think I can anymore Shawn.”

“Lassie,” Shawn says. “I’ve never been able to get over you, no matter how many girls or boys, I dated you were the one I couldn’t get over.” The two men moved closer together and their lips met. “I missed that,” Shawn says a few seconds later after they break apart.

“So, Shawn, are you going to be calling me Lassie or Carly?”

“How about Lassie in professional setting and Carly in more.” Shawn leans over and whispers into Lassiter’s ear. “Intimate settings.” Lassiter moves and presses their lips together again, and as they move into Shawn’s bedroom their beers lay forgotten.

All of the Spellingg Bee episode that I have rewritten will be in my next post

#psych #pineapple #lassie

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years

Text

Two broken hearts with matching sides - Chapter 1

Summary: Freed and Laxus were inseparable friends, they always spent their days together ever since they were children, so much so that they were considered indivisible.

That’s why everyone was surprised when during the last year of high school, the two boys no longer spoke a word from one day to the next. That’s why everyone was surprised when Freed left for Germany and Laxus knew nothing about it.

After three years the two will be forced to see each other again, and for a period to live under the same roof. [Freed/Laxus]

Link: AO3

Hi everyone. I had this idea and I decided to throw it down.

Just two small notes before starting: it’s set in Italy and there will be many flashbacks (parts in italics), practically it will be a double story that will address the university present of Freed and Laxus, and their past in high school.

Hope you like it. Enjoy the reading!

Back to Magnolia

If there was one thing he didn’t expect, it was to see Bickslow so different. The last time he saw him he wasn’t so full of tattoos, while he now even had one on his tongue, something that immediately caught the eye when the boy started talking. Besides, if possible, he had risen even more, and his hair had grown and he was holding it tied in a high ponytail.

“So, what’s it like to come back here after being in Germany? Magnolia must be rather sad in comparison” Bickslow asked enthusiastically seated at the bar table in front of him. Freed smiled, pleased to see that despite the past three years apart, their friendship hadn’t changed. Normal, since they had spoken on the phone quite often. One summer Bickslow had also taken the opportunity to take a trip and reach him. Freed had hosted him and they had spent two weeks together having fun. That apparently was enough to keep their relationship the same way it always has. Just like they had been friends in high school. Nothing had changed, and Freed hoped it was the same with Evergreen.

“Not really, I really missed Magnolia,” Freed replied. He missed old friends more than Magnolia. Bickslow, Evergreen, Lucy, Mirajane… a little thought also passed to Laxus, but he chased it away before he could even stop.

“Do you do the last two years of university here and then go back to Germany?” Bickslow asked.

“That’s the idea,” Freed replied, stirring the coffee. Magnolia still had a good university, and if he could get a double degree in two different countries, so much the better. It would’ve given him a nice advantage.

“Well, then let’s enjoy these last two years together. I don’t know what Germany is like, babe, but we’ve a lot of fun here!” Bickslow exclaimed.

“Is there any news?” Freed asked.

“Well, actually Magnolia is always the same. Oh, the old bar we used to always go when we played hookie from school is closed. The owner went bankrupt and now there’s a clothes shop”.

“You know what I mean,” Freed smiled, curious about old friends and where they had ended up. Bickslow began to giggle.

“Well, Ever and Elfman have something... I don’t know what, because she’s like a wall and she doesn’t want to tell me anything, but there’s something tender” he revealed. Freed frowned slightly.

“Elfman Mira’s brother?” he asked surprised.

“How many Elfman do you know?” Bickslow asked in a laugh.

“Not many, just... it’s weird,” Freed commented, picturing the two boys together. He remembered that in high school they did nothing but fight. Evergreen hated him, and Elfman made her nervous all the time. He just didn’t understand how they managed to be together.

“Yes, everyone says it. But they look pretty good together. Oh, and Lucy and Natsu are a couple. It’s official, finally,” Bickslow added.

“Well, those two would’ve ended up together sooner or later,” Freed chuckled. It was since high school that the two were inseparable. He remembered how Natsu always dragged the blonde into her disasters, and how the two defined themselves as ‘just friends’ despite being always close to each other. Everyone made fun of them and everyone knew that sooner or later they would end up together. They practically grew up together, a bit like him and Laxus. As the thought came Freed pushed it out of his mind.

“Gajeel?” he asked taking a sip of coffee.

“Gajeel is super engaged to Levy. There was also a rumor that she got pregnant for a while, but it was bullshit. But many still bring up the subject of her and make fun of her for it,” Bickslow said as he picked up the phone. He took a look.

“Uh, anyway, Ever just wrote to me, she wants us to go to the apartment so that she can show it to you and... um... so that she can introduce you to the other roommate,” he said a little awkwardly. Freed nodded, not understanding why his friend was suddenly so agitated. Maybe the roommate was someone Bickslow was interested in? As far as he knew, Bickslow had never had a serious relationship, but it could all be and it would’ve made sense.

“You don’t mind having another roommate, do you?” the boy asked. Freed looked at him curiously. It really seemed that Bickslow really cared about the two getting along. He shrugged.

“If he doesn’t mind, that’s fine with me” he then simply said to reassure him. If the roommate was friends with Bickslow and Evergreen, he certainly wouldn’t argue.

“Oh good. Yes, very good,” Bickslow commented still agitated. “Let’s go,” he said as he stood up and Freed picked up his suitcase again, starting to drag it through the streets of Magnolia.

They were not very far from the apartment, and in a few minutes they reached it on foot. They entered the elevator and went up to the second floor, reaching the door. Bickslow took out the keys and let him in.

“Ever! We’re at home!” he screamed as he stepped inside. Freed entered looking around. The friend had sent him some pictures of the apartment but he had never seen it before with his own eyes. He had trusted. In any case, even though it was small for four people it was more than enough. There was a large sofa that looked comfortable, and a nice TV was positioned in front of it. Simple, but nice. There were also a couple of flower pots on the shelves that had probably been placed by Evergreen. From what he remembered, the friend had always been a plant lover.

Evergreen came out of the kitchen and the brunette smiled warmly at him as soon as she saw him. In a few steps she reached him and hugged him in a warm embrace.

“You’re finally back in Magnolia! I hardly believe you’re here!” she exclaimed. Freed returned the hug.

“In flesh and blood,” he replied with a smile. They pulled away and Freed started to ask her how she was, but when he saw the fourth roommate come out the kitchen door, his words died in his throat.

A single glance at Laxus was enough to upset his whole stomach, filling his mind with old memories he wished he could forget. For a few seconds he couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, painfully noticing how he had grown even more handsome. He had stood up a lot and had put on some muscles but his gaze was exactly as he remembered it. Intense to hurt, and beautiful to take your breath away.

Freed couldn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, still surprised to find him in front of him after so long. Laxus didn’t say anything either, just staring at him and perhaps studying Freed as he was doing.

“Um… well, how about putting the suitcase down? I’ll show you the room, okay?” Bickslow asked a little agitated. Freed looked away from Laxus with a vague sense of melancholy and nausea.

He should have greeted him, at least that. Why the hell was he still so agitated in his presence after so long? It should have changed, right? A normal person after three years would have forgotten the crush he had had all through high school. A normal person would have pretended nothing had happened, greeted politely and, perhaps after some initial embarrassment, would have spoken forcing himself to be normal.

Freed could do it, he had done it for years in high school, and over time he even perfected the control over his face. He could pretend that nothing had happened, create an impassive facade and let no emotion shine through.

He just didn’t want to do it.

He didn’t want to start over like in high school. And as much as he could pretend on the outside, on the inside he already felt bad. Living with Laxus? Impossible, he couldn’t. He already knew that if he stayed there, he’d hurt himself, because no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that he had forgotten, he knew it wasn’t true.

“Hi Laxus” the greeting surprisingly came out as emotionless as he wanted. The blond didn’t reciprocate, stared at him in silence with an expression that Freed couldn’t understand. Maybe he was pissed off, or maybe he just didn’t care.

Freed turned his gaze to Bickslow.

“You know, there’s no problem with the apartment. I know there should be another one not far from here, and they should have a free room,” he said in a controlled tone.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Evergreen exclaimed. “It will be like old times, we’ll have a lot of fun,” she said and started to take his suitcase. Freed tightened his grip, however, realizing that Evergreen and Bickslow had set him up there. Maybe Laxus was right too, or maybe not, judging by his expression. He honestly didn’t care. He had to get out of there, and quickly.

“I’ll look for another apartment,” he said harder.

“But you just got here,” Evergreen pointed out. Freed started to speak but Bickslow wouldn’t let him.

“Ever’s right. We’ve got your room fixed by now. And we made dinner for four,” he insisted. Freed tightened his grip on the suitcase and noticed that Laxus was approaching. He was silent as his gaze ran back to the blonde, not knowing what to expect. Without even realizing it, he held his breath when he found Laxus in front of him, closer than he had expected. The blonde looked him in the eyes for a moment, then turned and walked to his room.

“Yes, go away,” he told him harshly. Freed blinked for a moment in a daze, and his words hurt him more than they should have. “Again,” Laxus growled, showing all his irritation. Then he entered his room slamming the door behind him.

The noise roused Freed, who quickly turned to the door and practically ran out. Bickslow followed him.

“Hey, wait,” he told. Freed didn’t listen to him and started down the stairs. But it was useless, he was carrying a suitcase and that meant he was slower than Bickslow. “Freed, can we talk for a second?” he asked. Freed stopped on the first floor and turned to his friend.

“You did it on purpose, right?” he growled at him.

“Listen Freed...”.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was him?” Freed snapped.

“Because you’d never have accepted. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two but...”

“None of your business!” Freed snapped.

“Okay, but you can talk about it, I know you miss him and...” Bickslow tried to say hastily, but Freed interrupted him again and raised his tone.

“You’ve no idea how I feel. And I tell you clearly, Laxus and I no longer get along and it’s none of your business why we quarreled. I’m leaving” he said annoyed as he started down the stairs again.

“Freed, you’ll never find an apartment now” Bickslow tried to dissuade him following him, but the undeterred boy reached the door of the building, and then went out quickly.

“It will mean that I’ll go to a hotel”.

“Freed!”

“Leave me alone,” Freed growled, determined not to set foot in there again.

***

“Laxus, open this damn door!” Evergreen exclaimed. The blonde threw open the door exhausted to hear her screams and the girl jumped, probably not expecting it.

“Who the fuck was that idea? Your? Of Bickslow?” growled the blond, who had to vent his anger against someone. Against Freed maybe it would’ve been better, the asshole deserved it. Throwing a punch in his face would’ve been satisfying, but he was so surprised to see him again that the only thing he had done was staring at him. Only at the end he had recovered, growling at him.

And Freed was gone.

Again.

Without even saying anything. What was he surprised at? He had left three years ago without saying a word to him, what the hell had to change now? Just because three years had passed, did he think Freed would apologize or talk to him? Of course not, Freed had run away, throwing away their friendship as if all the years they had spent together were nothing. And Laxus was still sick after all that time? Pathetic.

“Both,” Evergreen admitted. “Listen, can we talk quietly? I know something happened between you two, but now that he’s here, don’t you think it’s a good time to resolve?” the girl asked calmly.

“No”.

“Laxus…”.

“No,” Laxus interrupted, raising his voice, furious as ever. Why couldn’t his friends have their own way? No, they had to continually meddle in his life. Everyone asked him where Freed had gone, why he had gone, as if he was having a good time in Germany, and Laxus didn’t have a shred to tell them.

A little voice in his mind told him that it was also his fault but he chased it away badly. “Listen to me. You knew we had a fight. You and Bickslow knew it, and you got in the way anyway,” he growled.

“I know but…”.

“No but,” Laxus interrupted her again. “I don’t give a shit about why you did it. I don’t want him here, I don’t want to see him and what happened between us is our fucking business!” he yelled. Evergreen fell silent and at least didn’t try to argue or remind him of the good old days with Freed. But she didn’t need to do it, they came to him alone, along with all the melancholy.

“He doesn’t have an apartment to stay in,” the girl murmured.

“I don’t give a shit,” Laxus growled and started to go back into the room, but knowing full well the meddlesome nature of his friends he turned back to her. “And leave me alone. I’m not kidding Evergreen. Don’t you dare put yourself in the middle of my life anymore” he warned her threateningly, hoping that the message had arrived. After that he locked himself in the room and threw himself on the bed, taking the headphones and turning the volume up to the maximum, hoping that it would help him not to think. The problem was that it didn’t work at all. Freed’s return had affected him more than it should have.

***

“How does it look to you?” Freed asked showing the two skateboards and Laxus smiled as he glanced over the two boards. Freed’s was red, with lightning bolts drawn across the top. Laxus’s was black, even that had lightning drawn on it. Under both was the word ‘Thunder’. Freed had decorated their skateboards after they both decided to make them alike.

“Fantastic” smiled the enthusiastic blond taking his own with his free hand, turning it between his fingers and observing it. With the other hand instead, he was holding a half-smoked cigarette. He was already about to get up and skate around when his phone vibrated. A little annoyed, he took it from his pocket and remarked that it was Jenny. He snorted lightly.

“Who’s?” Freed asked.

“Jenny, she probably wants to ask me to go to the cinema together to watch one of those boring fucking movies” he blurted out and put the phone back in his pocket, not wanting to talk. Besides, he had to think of an excuse not to follow her. The last time he was bored to death, the only fun part was commenting on the movie with Freed. But in the end the girl told him to turn off the phone and she was angry that Laxus refused to do so.

“Another one of those romantic comedies?” Freed asked as he got on the skateboard and tried to ollie. Laxus watched him and nodded, taking another drag on the cigarette.

“Probably yes. It will be a total bore,” said the blond. “What excuse can I come up with this time?” he asked. He didn’t even know why he kept dating the girl. Well, maybe because everyone said he was lucky. No one in their right mind would’ve rejected Jenny. She was beautiful, intelligent, nice to everyone even if a little vain, but she was something that took second place given her talking with which she dragged anyone into a good conversation. Only Laxus wasn’t attracted to her, but it would’ve been weird not to be, and if he just had to go out every now and then to see some movies, it was fine.

“Tell her you’ve to help your grandfather fix the car,” Freed replied, continuing to skate and try the ollie over and over.

“Yes, if I put my grandfather in the way, she usually doesn’t complain. Hey, you fucking succeed.” Laxus observed and Freed stopped taking the skateboard back in his hand, with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t waste time watching romantic comedies,” he teased. Laxus laughed and threw the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with his foot and then climbing to his feet on the table.

“I can too,” he said trying it out himself. He had to do it a couple of times before it was perfect, but when he did, he was fully satisfied. He looked up at Freed, who had already left along the way.

“Whoever arrives last pays for a drink!” he yelled. Laxus smiled and pushed his foot to reach his friend, ready for a race to their favorite bar, where they would then spend the whole afternoon fooling around like they did every day. And those afternoons were definitely more fun than the afternoons he would spend with Jenny.

#fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfiction

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k-laconia-bug1 · 3 years

Text

Celestial Wind

Posted on Ao3

Luz had screamed herself awake that morning. The entire owl house had heard her rushing in thinking she was being attacked.

Truth was it was a memory of hers

Her big sister Lucy had been murdered infront of her, the future version of sister was killed by future Rouge she doesn't remember ever being so angry and sad at the same time.

She remembers looking at Nastu she's never seen him like that either so scared for lucy future if she didn't already know that he loved that would have solidified it.

Eda was also concerned for along with King and Hooty with how many times she was screaming or crying herself awake. They had made her stay in bed for breakfast it wasnt until after bed she was aloud to get out.

Which was perfect timing as she was supposed to meet with Hunter today

When she had arrived in their usual meet up spot Hunter was already there

With a quirked eyebrow Hunter turned towards Luz "What took you so long your never late?" Luz blushed embarrassed "Eda made me stay in bed until after lunch i-uh had a bad dream.. I woke up screaming" Hunters eyes shine in concern "want to talk about it" Luz pauses for a few moments seeming to think about it 'Could she trust Hunter about Fairytail? About her real life? Well he hadn't sold her out to BBelios he seems to really care about her'

Luz smiled softly with a hint of sadness in her eyes "yeah I'd like that Hunter"

Hunter eyes had widen not expecting her to say yes but happy at the trust shown to him, he really cared for Luz. He patted the spot next to him when Luz sat down in the grass and waited for her to talk.

"It was less of a nightmare well It was but it was a memory" Hunter nodded showing he was listening

Luz scrunched her eyebrows

"One thing you should know I guess is well how do I put this? ... I don't come from the human realm? No wait I do.. just a different universe of it.." She spoke softly

Luz had turned towards Hunter to watch his expression

His eyes had shot up in surprise at the confession "Wait really I didn't even know something like that was possible!"

Luz smiled a bit brighter at Hunter "yeah it was called EarthLand there was magic there too but it was different.. Guilds were formed to protect those who couldn't protect themselfs"

Hunters looked curious but urged to her to get to what her nightmare was about

Luz looked down eyes filled with pain

"I had watched the future version of my older sister get killed infront of me"

Hunter eyes widen at the thought of Luz seeing something so brutal he wrapped his arms around her to comfort her

Luz smiles gratefully "it didn't help that there was a huge battle going on during it... Mavis... I miss my guild" Luz looks down at her right hand taking off the fingerless glove she wore

Hunter eyes followed her movement

"You have a tattoo?" Luz eyes widen

"What no it's my guild mark it was applied with a magic stamp by Mirajane! Lucy would kill me!!" Hunter was surprised at such a reaction from Luz

"Oh so like was proved your from a coven? And I assume Lucy is you sister?"

Luz blushed "yeah that's right"

"Is magic different there?" Hunter questions curious

Luz looked up in surprise

"Huh yeah it is quite a bit when I think about it!.... one key difference is that if you use the last bit of your magic you'll Crack like your glass and turned into seeable magic... Oh! And we don't have a magic sack attached to the heart with have containers within us 'Luz suddenly pales' and when someone with time typ magic.. she can open a second container with out training 10 out of 10 do not recommend that fudging hurt" By the end of her sentence she was glaring at the ground if looks could kill that flower would be dead

"How bad does it hurt?" Hunter asked nervous Luz stared him dead in the eye

"I'd rather do over 100 missions in one day nothing could ever hurt more my pain tolerance went screw you gramps for choosing me to compete at GMG!!"

Luz blushed hard in embarrassment

"Ahh sorry I guess I should tell you... I do have magic as you could guess after all I work at a magic guild!" By the end of her sentence she was smiling brightly

Hunter again surprised and intrigued asked "if there a certain kind of magic you spealize in?" Luz eyes brighten she jumped up "Yes! Infact..!" Luz closed her eyes and stretched her hand out and a key appeared in her hand she twisted as if opening a door "Open gate of Madien Virgo" suddenly a doorbell sound was heard and in a golden flash there was a women with short pink hair in a maid outfit infront of them "Punishment time princess?" The pink haired girl asked bowing Luz face turned a bright red "VIRGO" Luz let out a miserable sigh "no Virgo how man times do I have to say I'm never going to hurt you?" Virgo pouted and turned towards hunter her head tilts to the sized at Hunters jaw dropped expression "Princess? Who is this.. Virgo gained a smug smile Is he your Lover? Aquarius and Hime would be proud!" She finishes off with cheerful smile

Both Luz and Hunters Faces were red as Erza hair "F-Force closher!" Luz stuttered out after Virgo dissappear along with her key in her and her sister shared space pocket as much as she was grateful for the Celestial King blessing the Heartfilia siblings to share Celestial contracts it could get a bit tiring sometimes ..

Luz turned towards Hunter both of there faces still red "I shouldn't have summoned Virgo first but she's better then Loki or Taurus ehh then again like half our spirits are pervs " Luz face breaks out into a smile "oh I can show you Plue! And I show you star dress an a form of Celestial magic only known by the Heartfilia's!" Hunters blush had died down "star dress?.. Wait what do you mean by half your spirits are pervs!?"

Luz who purposely ignores him summons plue "pun punn puun pun!" Hunter stares at the snowman like thing that's shaking "oh really plue fairytail rebanded!!" Luz nearly yells in surprised but happy the snowman like creature shakes it head "oh right" Luz says as she remembers she needed to show him stardress "w-wait a minute" Luz cheeks flame up "what gate key do I use?"

"Luz why does it look like a snowman?"

Luz sweat drops "it's a dog.. now back to where I was.. oh right" she pulled out another key out of thin air expect she didn't turn the keys and summons a spirit like the past 2 times. "Star dress leo!" A flash of gold surrounded Luz and when it died down Luz was in formal attire wearing a fancy Black and gold strapless dress that had a slit all the way to her hip she wore grayish black thights underneath it a black ruffled choker and small black high heels and hair in a tight bun with a pink rose along with a tattoo mark appeared on her chest

Hunter was blushing at how beautiful Luz looked "uhh what does it do exactly"

Luz smiled devilishly "watch!" She walked towards the tree "star dressing allows me to Fight beside my spirits better! It gives me the ability to use there magic" Luz got in a fighting stance with a deep breath she yelled out "Reglus Impact!" As her fist made contact with the tree Hunters eyes widen as the tree expoled "your spirits are only as powerful as your magic! So the stronger you get the stronger they get!" Luz smiled "Leo or Loki as I said his name before is the leader of the Zodiac Spirits there golden gate keys his a fist to fist fighter"

Hunter still in shock "your world's magic is so different then ours" Luz blinks

"You don't think this is the only magic right on my world?" Hunter jaw drops

"There's more?!"

Luz giggles "yeah Me and my sister mainly use Celestial magic with Minor use of Requip magic" Hunter eyes gleam with awe "can you tell me more

Luz happy to have some one to talk to about her family agrees

"Let's see There's Nastu he has Fire dragon slayers magic he can replenish his magic stores by eating fire! He super strong to! He's also inlove with Lucy my sister

There Erza she has the most advanced forms of requip magic! You should see her!! She can bring out so many swords in under a second

Oh and Gray he has Ice make magic anything he has touched he can create with ice! And works just as well as what he touched! But he has a seriously bad stripping habit! He asked me for my underwear once! Lucy beat the crap out of him that day 'she grins' the boys say she was scarier the Erza that day

Of There's wendy to! She a sky dragon slayer! Her Element is good in both fighting and Healing! Truth be told Healing Magic been dieing out!

Oh and there's the exceeds to! There talking flying cats Happy and Carla they drag around their dragon slayer parent because a side affect of dragon slayer magic is motion sickness! And of course my older sister Lucy anything I can do she can do to! All of us together make team Natsu! The strongest team in fairytail!" Luz says proudly hugging plue close to her chest "punn pun" plue exclaimed

Hunter was in awe at the magic they have Luz had looked down at plue in thought before a giddy smile overtook her "Your right Plue he does have the Potential for Ethernanos Magic! Or right that's what we call our worlds Magic"

Hunter eyes turned hopeful and ready to cry he voice breaks as he speaks "re-ally?" Luz nods "yeah but be prepared it's tuff to gain access to it and you don't exactly chose your main magic"

Hunter giddy at thought of not having to rely on his staff "please teach me!"

Luz smiles softly "I will but not today we'll make a schedule ill consult capricorn for the best way to train you"

Luz breaking out in a yawn looks at Hunter "we should head back see as scheduled? I'll have everything ready by then" Hunter excited nods "same time" he confirms that night he could barley sleep

Over the course of next few weeks he was trained hard and he required alot of meditation but by the 2nd month he showed signs wind magic he was happy because Luz had told him that wind magic users had the potential for healing spells but only if they were strong enough that could also perform enchanting magic

By the 5th month mark Luz had told his progress at 2 years worth even though he just trained for 5 months she gave him braclet from Celestial spirit realm

When he hit 7 months Luz told the he was going if he ever met Wendy she wound most likely share healing spells that aren't connected directly to her sky dragon magic that had made his month he was really happy at the thought of being able to heal others

At 8 months Luz said he should just focus on expanding his magic storage which meant take it easy but not to easy she had said she would start to train with him after a week and if he thought

capricorn trained him hard he doesn't know what to call Luz's training he wanted to ask but he didn't

At month 10 he finally asked her why capricorn trained her so hard she told him it was because of the Heartfilia family Duty to the Celestial Realm the Heartfilia bloodline was practically royalty to the Celestial Realm that being the reason they were Givin the title of princess, Hime, etc Heartfilia were the Gaurdains of the Celestial Realm and its not a stretch to call them the princesses of the realm if a Celestial Spirit was ever being mistreated by there summoner it was the Heartfilia's duty to take care of it. She had also made the comment of him making 5 years worth of progress no doubt that was due to capricorn being a drill Sargent

It was a full year before Luz sat him down to tell him what his power level was capable of here that technically he was stronger then his Uncle now that when he was just at month 2 his magic pressure could have defeated belios that team Nastu was quite famous for being destructive during missions people thought it was because of them not watching where there spells go but it was actually of there mp and that through Virgo her sister asked Wendy for some low level healing spells that he could learn she had also Givin him a bracelet that if he sent magic to jewel in it that it would notify her that he's in trouble

It was 5 months after that she sat him down again and gave the ins and outs of magic it was a week after that they had confessed there feelings for each other

At a year and half Luz told Hunter that if he wants he could become a fairytail member she told him stories of fairytail

She told him how one person tears were everyone's tears and how no one cares about members past just who they are now. That month she told him everything about the Heartfilia horizon about her father about being frozen in time for 7 years about the eclipse gate and what happened to the Celestial Realm right after about the Anima.. she told him everything she also told him about one magic.. and how it was only accessible through certain circumstances she told him one magic was basically the purest form of love the knowledge and power of one magic was to Heartfilia line

She also said her sister could use it because of Natsu and that Luz herself can use it Because of him basically she just gave him the biggest I love you ever and that made him feel so loved to know that

When it came time to finish the portal to back home to earthland she had told everyone of her real origin with hunter by her side

And with the help of the Celestial Spirit King who by the scares the crap out Hunter Luz how can you call that man Stache face? To his face! Created a portal in the use of jewelry Givin to everyone Luz and hunter cares for

#luz #luz noceda #hunter x luz #huntluz #luz x hunter #lucy heartifilla #lunter #Virgo #capricorn #plue #training #lucy and Luz are siblings #celestial magic #wind magic

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moon-stars01 · 4 years

Text

~Sugar Rush~

Hoshi x Reader

Author:pseudomint

Summary: Kwon soonyoung finds himself becoming a regular customer in a local ice cream shop after meeting mingyu’s cute co-worker. Sounds normal—unless you leave out the fact that he dislikes sweets.

Pairing:Hoshi(Svt) x reader

Gene:Collage/University,Ice Cream polar,attempt at humor,flirting,Smitten Hoshi,Mingyu third wheeling,Jun and his pick up lines

Rating:Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count:6100

———————-

~SUGAR RUSH~

Hoshi stares at the cute, pastel building, decorated with stickers of ice cream illustrations on the big, glass windows and door. He checks his phone screen once again, only to see the exact picture of the building he found on the internet glaring back at him mockingly.

This is the place. He finally knows where Mingyu’s secret workplace is. Don’t ask him where he got the address from (he might have.. owed a certain pink haired devil named Jeonghan). All he has to do now is to storm inside the ice cream shop and make fun of Mingyu for all it’s worth.

Being friends with that guy for a long time, Hoshi has a vague idea of why would Mingyu hide his workplace. The guy has always been vocal about his worship for anything hip-related, evident by his love for classic Pop, several ear piercings, and fashion style. He’s studying art so that he can become a tattoo artist. Moreover, he has a history as a delinquent back in middle school.

So, working in a local, cute ice cream shop near their campus might not be included in Mingyu’s list of Top 10 Dream Jobs, even as a part-timer.

Hoshi stifles a grin as he pushes the door open, earning a chime from the bell above. The shop is quite vacant, save for three customers, minding their own businesses in three different seats, the ice cream on their plates or cups half-eaten. One of them is bobbing their head to the popular pop song that is heard through the wall speakers. As Hoshi continues to scan the pastel themed shop, his eyes finally land on the glass display, filled with various flavors and colors of ice cream.Hoshi can already feel a toothache—he’s never been a fan of sweets, after all.

Noticing the absence of the employees behind the counters, Hoshi spots a bell placed beside the cash register. His hand hovers above it, uncertain whether calling the shop clerk with a damn bell is even polite—obviously, this isn’t some kind of five-star gourmet restaurant. Not that Hoshi has ever been into one.

Thankfully, before Hoshi could dive further into his impromptu crisis, an employee emerges from the back door. He’s wearing a pastel blue uniform shirt and a pink apron with the shop’s logo on the left side of his chest. Such soft colors, contrast with the dark scowl on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bastard?” Mingyu snarls, clearly aggravated by the mere of Hoshi’s presence alone.

And Hoshi can’t hold it back anymore. He laughs, folding his body in half, one hand clutching his gut as the other supports himself by gripping the counter. Fuck, this is funnier than he initially thought. No matter how he imagined it, the image of Mingyu and a cute ice cream shop just can’t be merged. Yet, here he is—the reality presented right before Hoshi’s eyes.Hoshi wheezes again.

“Stop fucking laughing,” Mingyu hisses, hands clenching on both of his sides. His face is flushed from anger with a mixture of embarassment. “This is why I’d never fucking tell you about this place!”

“Oh, it’s never about the place, ‘Mingyu,”Hoshi replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “It’s always been about you.”

Mingyu growls. “I’m seriously gonna kick you out.”

“I’m a paying customer,” Hoshi smirks back. “Treat me like one.”

“Then act like one,” Mingyu snaps, folding his arms across his chest, frown deepening. “Though I bet you can’t even handle the sweetness.”“Gimme the menu.”

“There’s one behind me, written on the chalkboard, asshole.”

“Wow, brilliant customer service,” Hoshi deadpans. “Don’t you have the printed one or something?”

“Aren’t you spoiled?” the hipster grumbles as he magically pulls out a menu, printed on a laminated paper from behind the counter. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to slap it against Hoshi’s chest.The act, however, is caught by one of Mingyu’s co-worker who’s suddenly coming out of the back room.

“Mingyu-oppa! Why did you do that to a customer?!” She screeches, horrified at her oppa’s rude behavior. She’s way shorter than Mingyu, and shorter than Kazuya. She has a (h/s) (h/c) hair that somehow looks soft and fluffy as the strands bounce everytime she moves.When their eyes finally meet,Hoshi’s lost the ability to speak.

Now, Hoshi’s never been one to believe in love at first sight, albeit having heard the idea of it in many sappy romance films. Hoshi’s also met many girls he considers as good-looking, but that’s it. There were no imaginary flowers or love-shaped bubbles or sprinkles of glitters around them, like a typical page of shoujo mangas. He didn’t feel his heart pounding harshly against his ribcages. He’s positive that he had never blushed at someone without any good reason.But his cheeks have never felt warmer than this moment.

The girl in front of him is unbelievably cute; she has an air of innocence around her that makes Hoshi want to scoop her up (no ice cream puns intended) in his arms and pinch those slightly chubby, round cheeks. Her cute button nose is perfect for a nose boop, and oh, how Hoshi wishes to nip her pink, plump lips.The girl’s tongue darts out to lick the very same lips, before she opens her mouth.

“Um.. are you okay? Is my co-worker hurting you?” She asks, brows furrowing in worry. Hoshi forces himself to look at her in the eyes, which is apparently a bad decision, because for the love of baseball, he’s never seen someone having such beautiful, molten e/c eyes—

“He’s fine,” Mingyu answers, shooting Hoshi a knowing look. “Sadly, I gotta admit that he’s a friend of mine, so don’t worry about him, y/n.”

“Oh!” Y/n brightens up, giving Hoshi an impression of a cute dog perking up its ears and wagging its tail. “Finally this l/n y/n gets to meet one of Mingyu-oppa’s friends!” She says joyfully with a voice a bit too loud. “May I also have the honor of knowing your name?”

Hoshi briefly glances at Mingyu, as if asking whether he should be concerned of Y/n’s odd, archaic way of speaking, but Mingyu’s expression works as a wordless assurance that it’s nothing to be worried about.Then, after eyeing Y/n’s extended arm as an offer for a handshake, Hoshi takes it firmly with a smirk.

“The name’s Kwon Soonyoung but you can call me Hoshi,” he purrs, his thumb tracing a circle on the back of Y/n’s hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Y/n.”His smirk broadens when a blush blooms on the girl’s cheeks.

“Uh—likewise!” Y/n retracts her hand too quickly. “Um, I’ll let you proceed with your order with Mingyu-oppa—“

“The thing is,” Hoshi cuts her off, leaning on the counter, showing a feigned, saddest expression on his face. “Mingyu was bullying me,” he sighs. The said guy promptly sputters a series of denials. “And this is my first time here. I think I deserve a discount for the bad customer service, don’t you think?”

Y/n lets out a scandalized gasp, giving Mingyu a nasty, chiding glare for treating their customer poorly, even if they’re ‘friends.’ “Then you have my approval!” She declares, jabbing a proud thumb at her own chin. “Don’t worry! I’ll tell boss about the discount later! Now, please pick any flavors!”Hoshi’s mouth twitches as a bubble of laughter arises from his chest. This kid is so gullible, so genuine, so interesting. He almost feels bad for tricking him.Mingyu kicks Y/n’s legs, “Idiot! Can’t you see that he’s tricking you?!”

When y/n shoots a puzzled look at Hoshi, Hoshi’s laughter breaks free from his mouth. In return, he gets a bristling y/n who goes out of her way to be on the other side of the counter just to shake Hoshi’s collar and send him colorful insults. Not the most professional thing an employee should do to a customer, but it’s worth for Hoshi’s own entertainment.In the end, Hoshi’s the one who gets kicked out of the shop before he causes more commotions.

Hoshi comes back at Mingyu’s next shift, mentally convincing himself that he’s here to annoy the hell out of the hipster, not because Mingyu accidentally reveals the fact that y/n has the same schedule with him.Yeah, right.

He peeks over the big windows, and hesitates. The shop is more crowded than his last visit, as expected from weekends. It’s mostly filled with couples and giggling high school girls. Hoshi decides to sit on the unoccupied outdoor seats by the window, waiting for the beeline to lessen.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for the patrons to decrease. By the time he enters the shop, the jingle of the doorbell earns him an automatic response from y/n who’s not even looking at the door. “Welcome to—“ she glances at Hoshi, then frowns. “—oh, it’s you.”

“Oh? Do I see another bad customer service?” Hoshi smirks, strutting closer the counter.

“I’ll show you customer service,” Mingyu threatens, glowering at him.

Hoshi holds up his hands in defense, grinning, “easy there, ‘Mingyu”

“So, are you going to order, Kwon Soonyoung?” Y/n squints at him in suspicion. Pushing aside his inner glee of noticing a mundane detail such as Y/n remembering his full name, Hoshi ponders of giving her an honest reply or not. Will they kick him out once again if he admits that he can barely handle sweet things?

“Hoshi?” Y/n’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his previous scorn is replaced with an owlish blinking. It makes Kazuya more aware of how y/n’s long eyelashes brush her cheeks whenever she closes her eyelids for a brief second.Pretty.“Hoshi!”Hoshi coughs and answers distractedly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll order something.”

Mingyu stares at him like he’s grown a pair of horns, but it’s more like that he can’t seem to grasp that Hoshi, of all people, agrees to order something sweet.

“You sound uncertain, but worry not! The ice cream here will change your mind,” Y/n chirps with an eye smile. Hoshi can feel a thousand of cupid arrows piercing through his fragile, gay heart.

“Right, because Hoshi absolutely loves ice cream,” Mingyu mutters under his breath beside his co-worker with a blatant sarcastic tone.Y/n doesn’t seem to hear it, much to Hoshi’s relief.

“So...” Hoshi drawls, scrutinizing the menu near the cash register. “Do you have a flavor that isn’t too...” he grimaces at the next word, “sweet?”

“That’s impossible, go home.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mingyu.”

“I can recommend you some,” Y/n replies, ignoring Mingyu and Hoshi’s glaring contest. “We have wasabi flavor, bitter melon flavor—“

“Some extreme recommendations you have there,” Hoshi sweatdrops.

“Hey! They taste fine, I guess,” Y/n looks hesitant herself. Hoshi wonders if the girl even understands basic marketing strategies—she could’ve at least pretended to be confident with her promotion. “I mean, I’m sure they’re better than natto flavored ice cream or anything.”

“You hate natto?” Hoshi smiles in amusement, inwardly happy to know one fact about Y/n.

“I despise it!” Y/n huffs, not even bothering to conceal her disgust. “Anyway! If you’re not interested with our out-of-the-world flavors, maybe you’d love our triple shot espresso ice cream! If you’re still not convinced, we still have a variety of diet frozen yogurts that are guaranteed to be low-sugar!”Hoshi hums at the mention of anything caffeine-related, “triple shot espresso ice cream doesn’t sound bad. Get me the smallest cup, y/n.”

“Roger!” Y/n beams, giving a military salute before she busies herself with Hoshi’s order. Her moves behind the counter are swift, practiced, and surprisingly not clumsy. Her hips sway a little to the beat of the music—whose great idea it is to play a suggestive jazz music at a fucking ice cream shop in Saturday afternoon?—but Hoshi’s not really complaining. In fact, he enjoys the show a bit too much; he doesn’t even realize that he’s been propping one arm on the counter to support his chin while watching y/n with a mushy smile.“Wipe that disgusting expression off your face,” Mingyu comments, unimpressed.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? As if I could overlook someone who looks like they’re seconds away from jumping my co-worker in public!” Mingyu hisses this time, still considerate enough to lower his volume.“Don’t worry, I’ll do that in private,” Hoshi winks.

“That’s not what I—“

“Do you want any additional toppings, Hoshi?” Y/n unintentionally interrupts their bickering. She’s now holding a small paper cup of a coffee-colored ice cream, head slightly to the side in an adorable manner, waiting for Hoshi’s response.

Although Hoshi’s brain is already short-circuited due to the amount of metaphorical sweetness that Y/n radiates, he still manages to croak out a reply of “almonds are fine”, in hoping that if the ice cream is still too sweet for his liking, the almonds would be able to balance the sugar.

Mingyu handles the payment without initiating any arguments with Hoshi for once, probably wanting to speed up the process of Hoshi leaving the shop. Either way, Hoshi has to leave indeed. He has other things to do, too.

“Thank you for purchasing, please come again~” come a chorus of synchronized phrase from Mingyu and Y/n; the former sounding bored and forced, while the latter sounding more cheerful.“I will,” Hoshi retorts jocosely, then flicks his gaze over Y/n, “if Y/n calls me her oppa, too.”

“Okay, Hoshi-oppa,” y/n breathes out without missing a beat. Her face instantly bursts into a myriad shades of red, complemented by a small, shy smile etched on her lips, and-Hoshi suddenly thinks he has a severe case of heart palpitations.

He inhales sharply, and turns his heels towards the door. “It’s decided, then,” he chuckles over his shoulder, giving his last smirk towards y/n, and exits the shop.

(He eats his ice cream on the way to his apartment and is genuinely surprised at the rich taste of coffee instead of sugar.It adds one more reason to visit the shop again.)

Hoshi’s next visit includes an unwanted guest, much to Hoshi’s distaste.

For a better term, he was following Hoshi in secret. Usually, Hoshi would easily sense something behind his back, but the particular street that the ice cream shop is located at is always busy. It’s to be expected from a street that connects commercial, academic and several residential buildings. That being said, the crowd of people makes it hard for Hoshi to notice whether someone is following him or not.In the end, Jun makes his presence known loudly by the time he enters the shop.

“Oi, Hoshi! You refused to hang out with me just to buy some ice cream?!” he stomps his foot on the ground. “Wait, I thought you don’t like ice—“

Hoshi, who’s currently leaning on the counter right in front of Y/n, automatically massages the bridge of his nose and quickly interjects the purple haired before he spouts something unnecessary. “Jun, did you really follow me all the way here?”

“Does it matter?” the purple haired shrugs, sticking his nose up in the air. “I’m here now. That’s what you get from ditching me.”

Hoshi sighs in exasperation, “I did not ditch you. I told you to reschedule our hang out.”

“Same thing,” Jun scoffs stubbornly.

Mingyu bashes his forehead on the counter, emitting a depressed aura all over the shop. “Great. There goes all of my peace at work.”

“Oh, Mingyu! Fancy meeting you here!” Jun greets with a grin. “So you’re the reason why Hoshi’s here?”

“No,” both Mingyu and Hoshi say flatly.

“Um, are you going to order?” Y/n, who’s been observing the situation, speaks up, attracting a pair of black orbs towards him. Then, Jun regards Hoshi and Y/n, back and forth, in a thoughtful manner.

“Oh ho? I see now,” he grins wickedly, elbowing Hoshi to the side and takes over his place, resulting in the dancer stumbling and hitting the glass display of ice cream. Paying no attention to Hoshi’s heated glare, Jun leans over the counter and brings his face closer to Y/n. “You’re pretty cute, I guess. Hoshi has a good taste.”Y/n makes a choking noise from her throat, and Hoshi’s left eye twitches.

“Who the heck are you?” Y/n scrunches her nose, taking one step backwards defensively.

“Wen Junhui, but you can call me darling,” Jun smiles flirtatiously. Y/n only stares back with a palpable discomfort on her face.

“...Then, are you going to order?” She repeats hesitantly.

“Sure. As long as you’re included as the bonus.”

“Uh,” y/n frowns deeper. “May I know the flavor of your choice?”

“Anything would do,” Jun answers, “but if you were an ice cream, you’d be my favorite flavor.”

“What?”

“And I know you’d like me too,” jun then lowers his voice into a whisper, like he’s going to tell the world’s deepest secret, “because I have an 8” popsicle down there.”

Mingyu’s shoulders are shaking from laughter, finding the whole situation amusing and ridiculous. Any other day, Hoshi would, too, but right now, he only feels a second-hand embarassment from Jun’s abhorrent pick-up lines. Even y/n looks utterly unimpressed by Jun’s flirting.

“Alright, Jun, that’s enough,” Hoshi interjects impatiently. “No one wants to know about your nonexistent 8” popsicle dick.”Mingyu laughs louder.

“Tch, you’re no fun, Hoshi,” Jun glares at him childishly, then whirls his body towards Y/n crossing his arms in his usual bossy manner. “Fine, I’ll order something. Get me a big cup of butterscotch and vanilla ice cream with marshmallows and oreos on top.”

“...Coming right up,” slightly taken aback by the change of attitude, y/n mutters and wordlessly scoops the ice cream into the cup, while Hoshi is inwardly cringing from the amount of sugar Jun’s order has.

The purple haired pays and finally leaves the shop, not before gesturing a V-sign to his eyes and then to Hoshi’s—indicating that their conversation isn’t over.

Hoshi shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be discussed in the first place,” he mumbles under his breath. Jun dragged himself into this situation. Then again, Hoshi’s known Jun long enough to tell that the purple haired wasn’t seriously flirting with Y/n. The dancer could properly make his fangirls swoon if he wanted to.

Looking back to his prior act, however... it’s almost as if he was testing Hoshi, because his eyes were holding a familiar knowing gleam—the exact glint in Mingyu ’s eyes when Hoshi first met y/n.

“But seriously, who is he?!” Y/n fumes. “I can’t believe he made a dick joke straight to my face!”

“He’s Hoshi’s ex,” Mingyu grins, nudging

y/n with his elbow. The younger blanches, mouth gaping upon hearing the information.

“Yup, and I’m totally dating you, Mingyu,” Hoshi rolls his eyes.

“R-really?!” Y/n’s eyes grow as wide as a saucer. Hoshi bites back a grin, almost forgetting how gullible Y/n is.

“Relax, we’re lying,” he snorts. “Can I take my order now?”

“Oh, right!” Y/n straightens her back, although she doesn’t seem to be convinced by Hoshi’s reassurance.

Hoshi selects the exact menu he ordered on his last visit, although this time he chooses a cone rather than a paper cup. He also makes a mental note to try another variety of topping next time.

“You two looks close,” y/n comments all of a sudden as she works behind the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to know who Y/n is talking about.“Jun’s my childhood friend,” Hoshi

smiles, quirking an eyebrow at Y/n’s pout. She’s sulking, for some unknown reason, albeit Hoshi has a silly, vague (and hopeful) idea of it. “Rest assured, there’s nothing between us,” Hoshi continues, watching how Y/n subtly relaxes her shoulders. “That goes for me and Mingyu, too,” she adds as an afterthought. Mingyu has never nodded so aggresively.

“That explains why you guys are on a first name basis,” Y/n says abashedly, avoiding Hoshi’s gaze. “B-but! Your relationship is none of my business, of course! This

l/n y/n was just curious, please forgive me for prying!”

Still blushing, she shoves the cone under Hoshi’s nose. Hoshi chuckles and takes it, purposely brushing their fingers together, deepening y/n’s blush. Satisfaction sprouts inside his chest—even without any cheesy pick-up lines, y/n’s naturally a blushing mess around him.Adorable.

“This is sickening to watch,” Mingyu groans, “now pay up, bastard.”

Out of reflex, Hoshi gives him another snide remarks about bad customer service (again), to which Mingyu retaliates with another empty threats.

The doorbell jingles as two chatting customers enter the shop, and at the same time, it’s Hoshi’s cue to leave. He looks back at Y/n, who’s unexpectedly staring at him in silence, and grins cheekily when Y/n flinches due to being caught.“See you next time,” Hoshi says in soft tone, before he playfully boops y/n’s on the nose.

Y/n doesn’t—can’t—reply because she has to serve the next customers, but she manages to send a meek smile towards Hoshi’s direction.

Fuck, Hoshi thinks later, as he ambles back to his place. He can’t believe he finally had the balls to nose boop y/n. He can’t erase y/n’s blushing face from his mind. He can’t stop smiling giddily right now—passersby are probably whispering about him, but he couldn’t care less.All he cares is that he’s honestly in some deep shit.

~~~~~~

Hoshi spends the next few weeks coming to the ice cream shop. He sometimes misses a day or two, partially due to being exhausted by dancing practice or just college in general. Another reason is because he’s fed up with eating ice cream (no matter how much he’s come to tolerate it a little ever since coming to the shop) and his diet as an athlete doesn’t allow him to overeat anything sweet. Which is ridiculous, since he doesn’t have other excuses to see Y/n; visiting the shop frequently without buying anything would be weird. Though, as days go by, he becomes more creative with his orders, like switching to low-sugar frozen yogurts or an iced Americano float (with the float being removed, much to Y/n’s confusion). Soon, he also finds out the existence of food—such as toasts and grilled sausages—in the shop’s menu.(“You need to stop ogling at Y/n and pay attention to our menu instead,” Mingyu once chastised wryly.)

Regardless, Hoshi enjoys most of his visits. Y/n is a fun person to talk to; Hoshi is often swayed by her personality and ends up being more talkative than he actually is, earning a frown from Mingyu. Later, Y/n reveals that she’s a dancer at Hoshi and Mingyu’s rival college, and she has jokingly asked Hoshi several times to dance against her.Hoshi’s never given an outright answer, however. As much as he wants to meet up with Y/n outside of the shop, he wants it as a date.

And that’s where the problem lies. He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up. He could ask Y/n in the shop, right beside Mingyu, but getting rejected in public would be awkward. In the end, that thought is always buried to the back of his mind.

Today is no different. Hoshi visits the the shop again—after being absent for a week prior—with no intentions of bringing up the date. As usual, he only wants to see the dancer. Even before stepping his feet inside, his heart thumps in anticipation to Y/n’s welcoming smile. So, as soon as he pushes the door open only to notice the absence of one of the workers behind the counters, his face falls.

“Asshole, I should’ve gotten offended of how disappointed your face is when you saw me instead of Y/n,” Mingyu scowls, to which Hoshi grins sheepishly. “She’s gonna be late today. I know what you’re thinking—she’s fine. There aren’t any dangerous emergencies or something like that, calm down.”

“I am calm,” Hoshi replies, burying his hands into his pockets. “I know she’s gonna be fine. She has such a caring co-worker after all,” he smirks at Kuramochi, who huffs in slight embarassment.

“Shut up. Who knows what stupid thing she’s gonna do,” the hipster’s lips curl downwards, an attempt to hold back his smile. “Anyway, since she’s not here yet, I can finally interrogate you.”

“What is there to interrogate?”

“What is y/n to you?” Mingyu ignores his words, giving him a pointed look instead. “If you’re only playing with her, Hoshi, I swear – “

“Oi, can’t you trust me a little?” Hoshi sweatdrops. “Do I look like some kind of heartthrob? You know me better than that, ‘Mingyu.”

“With your face, it’s easy to become one.”

“Very flattering.”

“Anyway, I’m being fucking serious right now,” Mingyu glowers at the dancer solemnly. “Tell me what you want from her.”

Hoshi eventually sighs, and briefly scans the whole shop. Luckily, it’s one of the weekdays, so there aren’t many customers inside. Besides, they’re too engrossed in their conversations or electronical devices to eavesdrop on Hoshi and Mingyu.

“Look, I don’t want anything from her,” Hoshi begins slowly, but he’s only rewarded with a skeptical look from Mingyu. “Okay, maybe I’ve been meaning to ask her on a date, but—“ he narrows his eyes at the hipster. “Wait, she’s single, right?”

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be asking that?” Mingyu purses his lips into a thin line.

“Oh, Hoshi, you’re here!”

Both the hipster and the dancer whip their head alarmingly to the familiar voice. There stands y/n with her trademark grin, her bag slung around her shoulder. Panic blossoms inside of Hoshi’s chest—he didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell, and judging from Mingyu’s startled response, he didn’t, too. They don’t know how long has the dancer been standing there. It’d be bad if Y/n managed to hear their conversation.

So, Hoshi studies y/n’s facial expression, searching for something, but the dancer only looks perplexed—probably due to Hoshi’s sudden stillness.

“Hoshi?” Y/n blinks up at him, making Hoshi more conscious of their height difference. Eyes trailing down to her neck, the pastel-colored collar of the shop’s uniform peeks out of her oversized sweater that falls until her mid-thigh, with the sleeves covering up her whole hands.

Sweater paws, Hoshi’s mind shuts down as tiny Hoshi’s inside his brain run in circles, screaming “ABORT! ABORT!” with high-pitched voices. She’s fucking wearing sweater paws.

“Hoshi-oppa!” Y/n frowns, successfully drawing Hoshi’s attention. “Don’t zone out like that, you’re scaring me.”

“Right, sorry,” the dancer mutters as he watches Y/n disappearing into the back room, before she shows up again without her sweater while tying the apron on her lower back.

“I see that you haven’t ordered something!” Y/n grins brightly, this time placing both of her hands on her hips. “So, what are you here for today, Hoshi?”

Hoshi, still distracted, racks his brain to all of the menu he’s ordered in the past. Triple shots espresso ice cream with almonds. Iced americano float, but without the float. Wasabi ice cream because he was feeling adventurous. Hazelnut spread and sliced banana on toast—

No, that’s not What hoshi wants all of this time. He wants—

“You,” he blurts out, mumbling, unaware of Mingyu choking in the background. However, when he notices the lack of response from the dancer, the haze in his brain suddenly dissipates, and everything becomes crystal clear again. “Shit, I mean—“

“Okay,” Y/n says, e/c orbs shyly peeking from underneath her lashes towards Hoshi.

“I was—huh, what?” Hoshi pauses, dumbfounded.

“I said okay,” Y/n averts her eyes, playing with the hem of her apron. “You can have me.”

Hoshi stares and stares, trying to process Y/n’s affirmation. That sounds too suggestive—too good to be true. Maybe his brain is tricking him. Maybe this is only a scene that he unconsciously creates inside his mind which is brought to life in a form of hallucination.

But when Y/n starts to fidget under his gaze, Hoshi lets his brain register the fact that this is, indeed, a reality.

As the gears inside him begin to work again, Hoshi doesn’t pass the chance to poke some fun at Y/n’s answer which basically serves as a free teasing material for Hoshi to use.

“Oh? How bold,” he then comments, smirking in satisfaction as he observes how realization gradually dawns on Y/n’s face.

“I didn’t mean to phrase it like that!” the dancer exclaims defensively, her cheeks now tainted with red. “Y-you were the one who blurted out weird things in the first place!”

“Sorry, sorry~” Hoshi grins unapologetically, to which Y/n pouts at. “But, as tempting as it sounds, you should let me take you on a date first, y’know,” he continues, his playful grin faltering a little due to slight nervousness.

To his relief, Y/n utters a timid “okay” and nods, a tint of pink still decorating her cheeks. At that, Hoshi doesn’t bother to hide the ever-growing smile on his lips and an excited glance to Mingyu who’s pretending to read a magazine and acting all disinterested, albeit the small curl on the corner of his mouth tells otherwise.

The next thing Hoshi knows is him exchanging phone numbers with the dancer and discussing their date in a short stretch of time due to the arrival of a group of customers.

Hoshi doesn’t get any ice cream that day, but he does get something—someone—sweeter in return.

~Three months later~

Hoshi sips on his hot, black coffee, the steam fogging up the lenses of his glasses. He steps aside when a patron comes out of the shop hurriedly, but he manages to halt the door from closing with his right knee. Hoshi then opens the door big enough for his body to get inside as the familiar chime of the doorbell greets his ears. The shop is silent, empty without customers, highly caused by the “CLOSED” sign on the door with a red, thick font.“I’m sorry, we’re already closed—“ Y/n says from Hoshi’s left side while stacking some brochures. When she finally turns her head towards the door, a beatific smile appears on her face. “Oh! Hoshi.”

Hoshi smiles back, placing his coffee on the counter and leans towards Y/n, to which the latter eagerly closes the gap between their mouths. They share a quick kiss as a greeting, before Hoshi withdraws slightly.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lips brushing over

y/n’s. He steals one or two more kisses, just because he can’t help himself.

“Hi to you too,” Y/n whispers, giggling. Hoshi cradles his lover’s cheeks with one of his palms, prompting Y/n to nuzzle against it. From here, he can also make out Y/n’s e/c eyes twinkling in delight—so captivating and blinding that it stupefies him.

“For someone who’s on her last day of work, you sure look happy,” Hoshi comments, arching an amused brow.

“I am happy!” Y/n replies, pulling away fully to finish her tidying duty. She moves swiftly behind the counters, the sole of her shoes creating noisy sounds against the tiled floor. “But not in a way you’re thinking.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Hoshi says, bringing the paper cup of his half-drunk coffee to his mouth and takes a sip.

“I like this job,” Y/n confesses, finishing her work and untying her apron. “My co-workers are nice, and my boss is generous to give me discounted ice cream.”

“I think the latter plays a bigger part,” Hoshi teases, knowing Y/n’s sweet tooth.

“Shut up,” the dancer juts her tongue out. “Meeting you here is what makes this job more special,” Y/n casually states, offering a smug smirk at Hoshi’s flabbergasted expression.

“Wow, Y/n,” he breathes out, before whistling with a shake of head. “You sure become bolder with your words nowadays.”

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?!”Y/n questions, pupils turning cat-like.Hoshi hums. “Well, you used to blush so much around me—“

“That’s – “ as if on cue, red creeps up to y/n’s cheek. “That’s because you always gave me those kind of eyes and used that kind of voice—!”

“What about now?”hoshi smirks, revelling in the way Y/n gets all worked up because of him. A nasty personality he has, indeed.

“Ugh, I’m not gonna talk about it!” the dancer scrunches her nose, a habit that Hoshi’s taken to notice whenever Y/n is frustrated. “Anyway! I was talking why I feel happy to quit work! It’s because I can spend more time with you now!”If Hoshi’s heart pulsates rapidly due to the abrupt swarm of affections in his veins, he does a great job of hiding it. “The real reason why you quit is because of the upcoming dancer season. We’d still be busy, either way,” he points out instead.

“Must you be so pessimistic, Hoshi?” Y/n pouts, looking a little dejected. Hoshi exhales guiltily.

“My bad,” he chuckles, ruffling the crown of Y/n’s head. “You know that I’d always try to make time for you, right, Y/n?”

“Of course you do, you whipped asshole. Only you would come to a shop that sells something you dislike.”

“Mingyu-oppa!” Y/n jumps due to

Mingyu’s unannounced appearance from the back room, before gawking at his revelation. “Wait, what? Does Hoshi not like ice cream?”

“Ask him yourself,” Mingyu shrugs.

Y/n immediately whirls towards Hoshi, displaying her best puppy face to lure the truth out of her boyfriend. And concede Hoshi does, not before shooting daggers at a snickering Mingyu.

“Yes, y/n, I don’t eat much sweets. You happy now?” he admits reluctantly, tugging the collar of his jacket in embarassment.

“Oh my god, Hoshi!” Sawamura bounces on her feet. “After all of this time, you didn’t come here for the ice cream?!”

Hoshi sighs, not before downing the remnant of his coffee and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. “I don’t see what the issue is. It’s not like I exactly loathe ice cream, I just can’t handle it if it’s too sweet—“Y/n, however, wastes no time to approach Hoshi on the other side of the counter, circling her arms around Hoshi’s neck and kisses him hard on the mouth.

The hipster groans in agony, covering his face with his right palm. “This isn’t the outcome that I wanted,” he bemoans, lamenting in his misery.

Hoshi laughs nasally, eyes closing in pure mirth as Y/n continues to pepper kisses on his face. It eggs Mingyu even more as he seethes in irritation.“Okay, stop it, Y/n! Why the fuck are you so pleased at the idea of Hoshi trying to get himself diabetes for you?”

“Oi, that’s too exaggerating, don’t you think?” Hoshi sweatdrops.

Y/n ends her ministration and frowns at Mingyu. “But Mingyu-oppa! If I were in Hoshi’s shoes, I’d do the same! But currently he’s not working in a natto-based restaurant or something, so I shall reward his bravery in some other way!”

“Don’t do it here,” Mingyu snaps, “I’ve cleaned and locked all shit in the back room while you were busy with that idiot. Grab your bag and sweater and just go home.”Teary-eyed, Y/n beams brightly, “I express my sincerest gratitude for you,

Mingyu-oppa!” She exclaims, before dashing to the back room to collect her belongings.“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu waves her off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s my last day too, figures I’d do more than usual.”

“Aw, it wouldn’t hurt to admit that you care for her, ‘Mingyu,” Hoshi coos.

“And you!” Mingyu then throws the dancer a resentful look. “You owe me for all of the time you’ve made me into a fucking thirdwheel, bastard!”

At that moment, Y/n has come back, already clad in her warm, oversized sweater, and proceeds to stand next to Hoshi. That’s when an idea strikes him.

“Thirdwheel?” Hoshi asks, tilting his head at Mingyu in a faux innocuousness. He pulls his unsuspecting girlfriend closer by the waist, to which Y/n lets out a soft gasp. “Whatever do you mean by that, Mingyu?”

“Huh?” Mingyu croaks out, widening his eyes when Hoshi lowers his head to Y/n’s face with a shit-eating grin.

“What are you – shit, don’t you two dare making out again – give me a damn break, I’m trying to close the shop here! If you two don’t stop right now, I’m gonna kick out both of you with a fucking broom – oi, did you hear me?! Alright, for fuck’s sake, Y/n, save the moan for later and GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE—“

#hoshi-x-reader #hoshi #kpop #seventeen #stories #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #hoshi fanfic #kwon soonyoung

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yikeswtfmate · 4 years

Text

Peonies

Pairing: Tattoo Artist! Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve has a new client who knows exactly what she wants. And a tattoo.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language; filth F I L T H, i’m not joking this is smut (praise kink; slight daddy kink; fingering; slight spanking; unprotected sex; hair pulling??? Steve Rogers’ face??????????)

A/N: listen. LISTEN. Steve Rogers has been the bane of my existence for too many days to count now, so i had to let it all out somehow, ok? @the-chocolate-moose is the sole reason for me unleashing this filth on you all so go yell at her if you don’t like my first ever attempt at smut, i can’t be held responsible

A/N2: THIS is what prompted this whole thing; have these images in your heads as well, so now sit back and enjoy this fuckery

A/N3: @the-chocolate-moose suggested i name this Peonies bc “it’s nice and close to penis”; i thought “just fuck me up man idc anymore” would be more fitting

masterlist

Steve is not in the mood today. He’s not in the mood to listen to Nat constantly blowing and popping her gum, he’s not in the mood to watch Sam obsessively clean the leather seats in the entire studio, he’s not in the mood to smell the acrid odour of cigarettes that Bucky brings in with him after he’s had his break.

He’s definitely not in the mood to feel his tshirt sticking to his back and shoulders as he’s working on the design of a new tattoo. With the AC broken, he’s more than grateful for the small autumn breeze that occasionally wafts in through the open doors. Maybe he should just close for the day. After all, none of them have any appointments left and who even comes in to get a tattoo at 4 pm on a Friday?

“Hi.”

Steve looks up from his notebook to be greeted by a woman leaning on the high counter. She’s smiling, a cheeky grin that he’s only ever noticed in regular customers whenever they come up with a new idea for a tattoo. Her fingers tap on the mahogany, indicating nervousness and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear when he hikes his glasses up on his head.

“Hi.” Steve smiles – customer service force of habit or just because she’s so damn gorgeous? “How can I help you?”

“Well, uh – I’m here for a tattoo obviously.” She says, eyes flashing down for a second. “My friend recommended your studio and I was in the neighbourhood anyway, so I thought I’d stop by to make an appointment.”

“What do you have in mind?” Steve asks, taking out the planner, ready to find a free spot for her.

“Oh, I want my hip covered in peonies.” She says with such nonchalance as if she’s just going to buy some milk.

A quick inspection of the upper part of her body over the counter makes Steve wonder if she does have any tattoos and whether she knows what she’s getting into. His weariness must be written all over his face because she just giggles and waves her hand in dismissal.

“Don’t worry. I have a pretty big back tattoo. I know I’m going to be yours for at least five hours.”

And the way she says it, a corner of her lips raised into a tiny smirk and her head tilting to one side makes Steve lick his lips. He chuckles, shaking his head because he’d be damned if he doesn’t like the way she’s making it sound. He’s more than aware of her eyes on him as he stands up and invites her to take a seat on the couch. Planner and notebook in his hands, he settles down next to her, without failing to notice the way her tight skirt rides up her thighs when she scuttles closer to him.

“Tell me.” He says, glasses back on the bridge of his nose and pen on paper.

“Right, well I want it big.” And there it is, that amused tone in her voice again, but he’s more focused on her fingers brushing the top of her hipbone to the middle of her thigh. “And I want it in illustrative style because I can’t deal with blackwork and watercolours are just too much for me.”

Soon Steve has a pretty clear idea of exactly what she (Y/N, he found out earlier, after she’s repeated his name, tasting it on her tongue like a particularly delicious candy) wants; she seems to know a lot about tattoos, and he would be lying if he would say that doesn’t turn him on just a little bit. Maybe that’s why he can’t help himself from biting his finger, while listening to her. He’s excited to start to work on her tattoo, and he’s more than excited to spend some time with her, so when she asks him whether they’re open on Sunday he doesn’t even take time to consider.

“No, but I can open up only for you.” He offers and he doesn’t miss the thought that can be clearly seen on her face for a split fraction of a second.

“So it would only be the two of us in an empty studio while you’d be working on me for – how many hours did you say? Four?” Her eyes narrow, her voice purring and her fingers lightly graze his forearm.

“At least.” He nods, playing into her game with a smirk.

“Well, then. Being yours for at least four hours does not sound bad at all, Steve.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Y/N.”

Bucky and Sam give him hell after Y/N’s left, hooting and hollering like two fucking teenagers. Steve just rolls his eyes at them, ignoring their jabs and lewd jokes, but he doesn’t miss Nat’s knowing smile.

“What?” He snaps when she wouldn’t look away. “What???”

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “It’s just funny how you wouldn’t even show her our portfolios.”

“Why?” He asks defensively. “You don’t do big ink, Bucky only does watercolour and Sam’s on holiday next week anyway.”

“But she’s coming in on Sunday.” Sam points out, chuckling.

“And you seem to have all the answers to support your already possessive behaviour there, punk.” Bucky laughs.

“Fuck off, all of you.” Steve grumbles, already on his way to the back of the studio where he can work in silence on what must be now his new favourite flowers.

“Just make sure you don’t drool on her when you’re gonna tattoo her, bud!” Nat yells after him and he slams the door shut on a wave of laughter.

It’s Sunday and Steve looks at the clock right when it turns exactly 4 o’clock. His gaze instinctively turns to the door, but of course he shouldn’t expect her to be there right on the dot. Instead he looks down at the paper, trying to decide whether it’s detailed enough or too detailed? Is it too big? Too small? Would she like it? Would she want to have his work on her body for the rest of her life? And then another shiver runs along his spine, fingers twitching in anticipation, and his cock might pulse just one second at that particular thought – his work on her body for the rest of her life.

Steve’s startled out of his thoughts by a quick rapping on the glass door. She’s standing there, smile already evident on her face and he takes his time observing her as he makes his way over. He silently praises her for choosing a flowing skirt today, he knows that last tight one would’ve been hell on freshly tattooed skin; yet she’s making up for it with a very tight tiny top. Thank fuck for this particularly warm autumn.

“Hi!” She beams, stepping in and letting him lock behind her. “Ready to do me?”

Steve chokes on fucking air, but he has the good sense to start laughing. He’s thankful her back is to him because he already has to adjust his fucking jeans. She’s throwing her bag on the couch, takes in a big breath and turns to look at him, practically vibrating with excitement. Steve raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on it – he knows how addictive the experience can become, his plethora of tattoos can only stand as an example.

“We’re gonna be in the back, babe.” Steve says absentmindedly, as he goes to pick up the hectograph paper.

“Babe?” She remarks, closer to him than he thought, her breath right on his cheek. “I hope you don’t call all your clients that.”

The tips of Steve’s ears turn pink. He hadn’t realised what he said, and he definitely wouldn’t have said it out loud, but every time he’s thought about Y/N in the last days his mind only supplied him with the image of her saying his name, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, her fingers on the tattoos on his right forearm while staring in wonder – babe, be a doll and suck my cock. Pink on his cheeks now as well.

“Come on, big boy. Show me where you want me.” Y/N winks and she’s already sauntering off to the back door.

It’s not his fault that all his blood is rushing to his dick now, it really isn’t. It’s her swaying ass and those long legs that will be completely bare in just a few seconds. Or maybe her inability to say anything without making it sound like an innuendo. Whatever it is, Steve has to readjust his jeans again.

He’s behind her in a few seconds, and he knows she’s doing it on fucking purpose when she steps back into his chest to open the door. She smells like vanilla and patchouli and Steve grunts deep in his throat; she doesn’t even apologise, instead she just tilts her head back until she can look at him and grins.

“You’re really big, did you know that?”

Steve just smirks and with a well-placed hand on her hip, he guides her forward. He can hear the faint giggle; the little minx is playing and she has him lapping from her hands, but two can play at this game, and he doesn’t like losing.

The room is definitely darker than the sunlit reception, but the bright lamp right next to the leather bed makes up for it. It almost feels as if it’s night, and Steve notices the way her back arches just an inch.

She hops on the bed, feet dangling over and she’s holding out her arms, reaching for the paper in his hand. Steve hands it to her without much preamble, and sits down in his chair, set to prepare the ink and his gun. He’s suddenly very aware of the closed door and how small this room is so he’s trying to distract himself in case she’ll be disappointed.

A gasp escapes her lips, making his head snap up. Now or never he supposes, but she’s grinning widely.

“I love it.” She whispers and there’s relief rushing through his entire body. Pleased, more than pleased to be entirely fair – he’s fucking aroused by her praise. Interesting.

“Do you want me to make any changes to it?” Steve asks, remembering that he’s actually supposed to do his job right now, and not get a fucking boner over her glinting eyes. “You’re gonna have this on you for the rest of your life so now’s the time to voice any concerns, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s perfect.” She promises and hands him the paper. Hopping off the bed, she looks at him, maintaining eye contact as she speaks. “Now. Should I get this skirt off or do you wanna do it, babe?”

And there it is. Back to being a little shit, especially when throwing that ‘babe’ back at him. Steve grunts and waves his go ahead, turning back to his gun. He refuses to look at her, to watch her shimmy out of the flowery thing, to look at her legs stepping out of it, to see the smirk on her face that he’s more than sure she’s sporting. He hears that small huff of air she lets out when she lays down, hears the creak of the bed under her body, hears the big inhale he has to take in before he moves his chair to finally face her.

Oh, fuck.

It’s not the long legs or the curve of her thighs or that very glaring dip that he’d so like to explore that do it for him, it’s the panties she’s wearing – red, lacy, small. His hands are hovering above her, blinking lazily over the expanse of skin and she must know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, exactly what he’s thinking.

“You know,” she purrs from somewhere to his side. He’s not sure, because her thighs are rubbing together now. “I think I’ll have to take these off as well, considering how big it’s going to be.”

And that’s it. Steve’s had enough of it. He looks down at her, sees her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, one hand right above the line of her underwear, the other squeezing the edge of the bed. He grumbles deep in his chest, which makes her pupils dilate even more. Does she want to play then? Fine, he’ll give her something to play with.

“Yes, I think it would be best if you would.” He says, leaning back into his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest.

She’s startled then, confused for a moment at his blatant answer, but it’s easy to read his smirk. Easy to read what an arm over the armrest and a finger in his teeth means, as his tongue darts out to wet his lips – waiting. Are you going to do this? Daring her.

“Come on, baby, are you going to take them off for me?” He prods further, and it seems that does it for her.

Fingers slip under the waistband and he watches as she lifts up her ass, dragging them over her thighs, knees up and completely off. The piece of cloth dangles from her finger, as she offers it to him in her own silent dare. Are you going to do something about this?

“Any other requests, sir?”

His cock twitches once more, as if he isn’t already fucking hard with her half naked in front of him, an inch away from his touch. He stands up, grabs the panties and tucks them in his back pocket.

She squirms under his stare, legs pressed together but he doesn’t like that. One finger on her knee, and he pushes it to the side, then does the same thing with the other one. Pussy on display, his mouth is watering just as much as she’s dripping on the leather.

He leans closer, hands now behind his back and she’s shivering under his breath on her ear.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He grunts.

A whine and her fingers grab his forearm in a vice like grip. “You know what I want.”

“You have to use your words, Y/N.” Steve tuts.

She groans in frustration, letting her head fall back. “Please, Stevie, I need you to fuck me.”

He smirks then. An eye for an eye, wasn’t it? But she’s pleading and he’s been thinking about fucking her for three days straight already. He’s not in the mood to delay this any further – he’ll have time to savour her inch by inch later. For now, he just wants to fuck her.

He takes off his jeans, already feeling some of the tension leaving him. His boxers follow and he smiles like a Cheshire cat when her reaction is to lick her lips and sit up on the bed in anticipation. She wanted to play, didn’t she?

Steve sits back down on his chair, slowly, languidly and looks up at her. She’s waiting, but he notices the twitch in her fingers, the way her legs press together and she’s squirming on the bed, trying to find some kind of friction. He smiles then – benevolently, like a generous benefactor and raises his eyebrows. What do you want?

“Please.” She moans – practically drooling.

Steve pats his thigh, “Come on, baby. Come here.”

Y/N is on top of him immediately, straddling him, fingers grazing his scalp, tugging at his hair. His hands circle her waist, big hands on her hips and he’s guiding her down until she can rut against his legs. Her lips are on his then, biting, tugging, moaning into his mouth, lapping at each corner, saliva dripping just like her pussy.

“Please, Steve. Please.” She whimpers, because fuck she needs more, she needs so much more, she needs to have him fill her up and Steve is just there, his cock twitching right on her stomach and she can’t take it anymore.

“What do you want, baby?” He grunts, right when his fingers slip inside her folds and yesrightthereyesfuckohfuckStevefuck. “Are you going to cum for me, honey? You going to cum for daddy?”

And shit, she must’ve not known that was something that she likes, because the moment those words leave his lips, as his fingers so expertly pump into her and his thumb is circling her clit, she throws back her head with a scream. Blinding stars and all the lights in the world play right in front of her eyes, and Steve can feel her pussy clenching around his fingers before he takes them out and licks them clean.

Steve waits for her to regain her breath as he kisses her collarbones softly, before he gets annoyed with the fabric between them. He tugs at her top until she weakly raises her arms, allowing him to throw it somewhere she doesn’t really care about. She does, however, care about the fact that he’s also still wearing his tshirt and that’s just a shame because underneath that it’s the most glorious sight she’s ever seen.

The sleeve tattoos are usually entirely on display, but Steve would be lying if he’d say he doesn’t know the effect the eagle on his chest has or the way that BROOKLYN on his abs is always either licked or touched. And of course, her fingers also instantly follow the letters’ path.

“Fuck.” She whispers.

“That’s what I intend to do, sweetheart.” He grins and with one arm around her waist, he has her standing up, pushing her into the bed, ass in the air.

He’s surprised for a second to see the massive lion tattoo on her back, her previous words forgotten somewhere in his hazy mind. She looks at him over her shoulder when his hand traces the lines, before his tongue licks a strip right through the middle of her spine. She arches back, a shudder going through her whole body when she lines herself just perfectly to him. Steve has to steady her with his hands on her hips before she starts rutting against him again.

“Steve, please.” She mewls and he hears the leather hissing under her fingers.

“Manners.” He grunts, lining himself just right.

“Oh, fuck you, Steve!” She seethes, but her words turn into a moaning hiss when a slap crackles on her ass.

“I said manners, baby.”

A low growl, but she knows what he wants. “Please, daddy. Please, I need you to fuck me, please, I can’t. I just – please, please, please.”

Her chant fills the small room, turning into an entire litany of profanities and obscene noises the moment Steve enters her. He groans when he feels her so tight and wet and warm around him and fuck he’d stay like this forever, if she wouldn’t push back into him, asking him to move already. She settles her forehead on the bed when his large hands squeeze her hips almost painfully, dragging himself slowly back, and then thrusting into her with force. He continues his ministrations painstakingly slowly, until she starts meeting his thrusts.

“Fuck, faster, please. Please, Steve.” She pants, hands scrabbling at the edge of the leather.

Steve grunts when she starts moving again, but a hand in her hair keeps her in place. He starts thrusting deeper, faster, rougher, and her head falls back into the bed, letting him do all the work because fuck if she could keep up with this.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? You wanted me to fuck you hard?” Steve grunts.

Her words are slurred in response, but he picks up the slew of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ and his name – his name falling off her lips like a delicious chant, and he’s never heard anything more perfect than the sound of his pounding into her, her moans and his name from her mouth. He can already feel her walls clenching around his cock, so he drags her up by her hair, until her back is pressed to his chest, hand around her throat. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, giving him plenty of access to bite along her neck.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

His movements are becoming frantic, and he removes his hand from her hip to bring it to her clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. She’s whimpering now, breathless and a fucking mess, yet he’s never seen her more beautiful than right in this moment, right when she’s coming undone around his cock. He’s right behind her, the moment he sees her eyes roll back into her head, feeling her go slack in his arms. A growl deep within his chest and they’re both sagging over the bed, spent and fucked into oblivion.

He slips out and she lets out a low hiss at the sudden emptiness. Steve watches the way his cum drips along her thighs, and would care more about how much cleaning up and disinfecting he’s going to have to do later if it weren’t for her nails on his forearm. He looks at her, a smile on his own lips in reply to her blissful grin.

“I think I’m relaxed enough to have that tattoo now.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #tattoo artist!steve rogers #tattoo artist! steve rogers #tattoo artist! steve rogers x reader #tattoo artist!steve rogers x reader

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