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atxxzist · 2 years

Text

broken | c.s (01)

next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 6.3k

warning: allusion to neglect, abuse, expect some heavy stuff

there's only been a couple, rare instances where your aunt helped you with a genuine smile on her face; cooing a tune under her breath and packing your belongings with no complaints.

of course all of them relating to a time where you had to leave, whether just for a few days, or maybe now permanently.

you know she won't take you back after you walk out the door.

a part of you truly wanted to despise her, for all the snarky comments through the years, and that uncomfortable, embarrassed, look on her face whenever she'd get asked if you were her child.

a woman of her age holding a grudge against a teenage girl unheard of.

but ever since your mom dumped you on her doorstep, you know you've made her life hell since.

that although she's overbearing and would probably throw you to the wolves first chance she gets, you'd have no roof over your head and no food in your stomach if it wasn't for her.

because if your uncle wasn't out sitting on the porch with a cigarette in between his fingers or downing his fifth soju bottle by noon, he was in bed taking one of the many naps of the day.

she's had a hard life, and you've only made it worse.

so maybe after all, all you can do for her, is leave. one less mouth to feed and one less problem to worry about. she probably has been waiting for the day you become of age anyways.

the goodbye is straight to the point; no crying or weeping tears of sorrow. nothing alike any departures that you see in movies. but it's over with. a new life, new people, and a new city you go.

mingi's dad is the one to drive you guys. if there has been anyone in your life remotely close to a father figure, it would be him.

he was the one who always paid when you were too out of pocket to really do anything with mingi. paid for the school festivals, for your uniforms when it was getting dirty, and when he found out you were going to be spending the new year alone, he gladly swooped you in for a trip with them.

a lot came with mingi, after he found you under that oak tree in your freshman year of high school, lost and alone. all of them a blessing.

"how do you guys think seoul people are gonna act like? are all the rumors true?" yunho speaks from beside you; he's another blessing that came with the package.

shortly after forming somewhat of a friendship with mingi, which solely consisted of him pestering you and sticking his nose where it didn't belong, he introduced you to yunho, his best friend.

and what were the odds that the only kid who actually bothered with you, would be your next door neighbor as well.

it was then that you met his parents and it very much explained where mingi got his mannerism from. though he has his moments.

"yeah. are they as stuck-up as everybody say? do they drink until morning--"

''--mingi, almost everyone drinks until morning. even back in that old town of ours," mr. song cuts.

mingi spares his father one glance and scoffs.

"yeah tell me about it, father. tell me how you grew that big belly of yours that is two months past due."

you and yunho chuckle quietly in the backseats, accustomed to their father-son banters.

mr. song hisses under his breath and snaps a quick headlock at mingi before moving his eyes back to the road.

"if i wasn't driving, i'd slap that mouth of yours," he says, "why can't you be more like yunho?"

"what!?" mingi voices in disbelief. "he was the one who started it!"

"oh..." he continues, "i know what this is about. it's cause i'm gay and you want a daughter-in-law after seeing minji and yunho."

both you and yunho roll your eyes at the boy's dramatic act.

it was something mingi had told you only a couple weeks after you got to know him. it's still mind-boggling how fast he trusted you, but he said he just did. something about you.

and a year later, he confessed to his parents. afraid at first of course, who wouldn't be. only to get a slap on the head by mr. song, not because he was gay, but because he had snuck out with you after mr. song specifically told him to watch the stove.

safe to say, he almost burned their house down that day. but the constant stealing of mrs. song's makeups and the hidden collection of boy band posters under mingi's bed kind of gave it away.

"yeah, sure," mr. song replies with a dry sarcasm. mingi rolls his eyes.

"anyways! about the dorms, i'm excited!" he diverts.

"i don't know..." you mumble.

you had wanted a lone room to yourself--those were an option. but neither you, nor mingi and yunho knew very much about the process. everything is new to you all. so by the time you guys had signed up, there were only leftovers.

meaning you're going to have a roommate; possibly one that's gonna have to put up with you for the next four years.

you don't know how to feel about that. especially a stranger.

so while mingi and yunho are esctastic about the mystery of their new roommates, which you're sure they won't have a problem becoming best buds with within a week span, you on the other hand, is dreading it.

"come on, y/n. it'll be fun," mingi attempts to lighten from the front.

yunho nods along. "yeah. and maybe even if your roommate turns out to be a major buzzkill, think about everything else. you're in a new city now. it's a fresh start."

"right," mingi agrees, "you need it, y/n. after everything you've been through. this is going to be great, i already have a feeling."

and for once, mr. song is onboard with his son. you see a smile on him from the rearview mirror.

"you're going to have a good time, sweetheart."

"i can't wait to see who's the hunk that i'm gonna be sharing a room with," mingi suddenly says, like his father isn't just right next to him.

mr. song shoots him a glare and mingi clears his throat, drawing back.

"i mean--"

you and yunho erupt into a fit of laughters.

you're definitely in seoul's air. the hustle and bustle, chitters around every corner that you pass--much louder than the old, quiet town, and the many tall buildings overlooking the city.

after bidding farewell to mr. song, with mingi stubbornly and smugly swearing on his life he's so glad to finally be away from his parents' domineering ways, only to break down and refuse to let his father get back into the car, you made it.

some rather confusing conversation with the lady at the front desk, but somehow you manage to convince her into giving you the key to the room.

mingi and yunho are off to their own before you even make it past the elevator. some friends they are.

"43-d 43-d...." you mumble to yourself repeatedly, just in case you happen to miss said room, staring at each number plastered on the wall so passively strolling by.

"43-d!"

you stop in front of a door quite secluded and far from the main hall, taking in the big '43-d' stickered to the side, before dingling the key in your hold.

you wonder if your roommate had already made it in. wonder if she's sitting at the edge of the bed and intently peering at the door because she's equally as curious.

if she's gonna be the best thing for the next four years, or the worst nightmare all in one.

a small creak is heard at the opening of the door, and the view in front of you; a squared-room as small as you imagined. a window right in the middle separating two single beds and a girl with long, flowy hair sitting on the one at the right, her back facing you.

she turns to the source of noise and her face just as pretty as the rest of her body. she gets off to stand on her feet.

"oh my gosh! are you my roommate!" she beeline towards you. you nod at the question.

"i'm yuna!" she holds out one of her hand, a smile on her face suiting for a girl of her class. you wouldn't know exactly, but judging by her outfit, it probably cost a pretty penny.

"i'm y/n," you answer, almost whisper-like, shaking her hand in return.

now that she's standing, you realize how much shorter she is in comparison to you. a couple inches at least.

"i was afraid my roommate was gonna be a creep. but you look anything but that!" she chuckles; another thing so pretty about her.

"thanks?" you respond, a small smile gracing your lips at such thing.

"so y/n..." she says, reaching behind to shut the door, then proceeding to drag your wrist; the rolling of your suitcase grating to the ear. "what's your major?"

she goes back to sitting at the bed, but her stance facing you and hands in her lap. you stand there overlooking her, unsure where to place your hands or how to bend your legs.

"oh, uhm... information technology."

you weren't really sure initially, but from the years of beating both mingi and yunho at whatever games you got your hands on, and the constant troubleshooting of mingi's hardware issues, they figured you're kind of tech-savvy and highly encouraged you to consider the field.

all of your childhood being spent with some kind of distractions since your parents were too busy being elsewhere or really there for you, paid off in some ways.

"cool!" she beams, before tilting her head slightly, "so... what is that?"

you giggle, not a stranger to such question. you learned pretty early on that not many people care about the government term.

"just computers."

"ah!" she nods at it all coming together.

"and you?" you're surprise that came out, but she sounds easy-going enough.

"art!" she proclaims, the way she said it tells you it's something she takes pride in. "i was just about to hang these up!"

it's then that you notice the many pieces of artworks laying on the bed she's sitting on, all framed and to go.

the one in her hand right now of a pink lotus flower perfectly painted and almost quite even realistically. all the strokes of it are gentle and pastel, you can tell the efforts put into it.

"it's beautiful," you compliment her with a smile.

the first two weeks goes by awfully fast.

your classes and professors are alright, and your roommate is someone who you can actually see yourself becoming decent friends with, because you don't exactly plan on living the next couple of years in lingering awkwardness and dreaded silence.

but while her half of the room is padded with decorations, like someone actually lives there, your half just looks sad.

you didn't exactly have much to bring. neither mingi nor yunho brought a lot either. just a few necessities and clothes; everything else buyable with the change you carried.

problem is, you don't have a lot. just a couple bucks you were able to save through the years and some from mr. song that he so kindheartedly gave you.

so there weren't a lot of options for decoration. but at least for now, you have a pillow to sleep on and a blanket to counter the cold.

you need to start job hunting.

aside from that, you spend your days in the comfort of mingi or yunho, or both, sitting in the library and listening to their narrations of how their week or day went. who they met today and how great everything is already going.

well, that's mostly mingi.

yunho just sulks about how much he misses minji, his girlfriend. she had decided to stay back in the old town and attend university there. the program for her major was better, she said.

the names definitely tripped you at first. it also didn't help that the two were constantly at each other's throat and cursing one's parents name for the similarity. but you get used to it.

mingi's met a lot of people. a lot. but none of them he talks about as much as jung wooyoung, who also happens to be his dormmate.

the name at first hitting you with familiarity. you've definitely heard about him, from passings and whatnot. from mouths of other students.

his parents are rich rich, and although he's just a freshman like you guys, with only two weeks into the semester, he's already throwing the most lavish parties that will be the talk of the town for at least an entire year.

mingi said he didn't have to be in a dorm, he wanted to be in one. someone like jung wooyoung, barely of age, can already buy his own house right next to campus if he so desired, but you know this is probably all fun and games to him, to try to live the life of a struggling college student with restrictions.

so what are the chances that jung wooyoung, probably by far the most popular freshman, is mingi's companion. some odd strings of fate that is.

but it's mostly pathetic when they'd ask about you. how your day and week went or if you have gotten yourself into a sorority yet. you already told them about yuna, and that was mostly it.

if there is even anything remotely close to interesting from your college experience so far, it would probably be kang yeosang.

not that you would tell mingi and yunho about him, though. especially not in a place so public and exposed where words can easily get around. because if you're to say something about your encounter with kang yeosang, it's definitely not anything nice.

"intro to computers, room... ah!"

you finally found the room, after only mindlessly wandering around for thirty minutes or so, but you did it.

you're at least five minutes late. not a good look to the first day of class, but there's a plethora of worse outcomes.

when you walk in, your heels nearly dig into the flooring and a nervous speck flashes across your eyes, overlooking the population of students and seeing that it's a fucking sausage fest.

damn you for having picked a male-dominated field.

they watch you trail to a seat like you're the first sighting of a rare creature, which makes it all more nerve wracking that you can barely grasp where you're going.

just that you took a seat in an empty chair, as long as everyone stop staring at you.

then, you hear someone clearing their throat all of a sudden. you turn to the source but his eyes are gone. only his shiney, blonde hair in your view as whoever it belongs to, begins scribbling down something, but never returning your gaze.

it's only until the next day during attendence that you learn the mysterious boy's name.

kang yeosang.

you also learn within the next few sessions that he's an exceptionally gifted student, his skills in the course makes your amateur basic knowledge of computers pale in comparison.

you respect him. your professor likes him. and other students know he's in a league of his own.

he's even pretty. like the man jumped straight out of a manhwa cover. nose perfectly sculpted, features full of innocence yet deadly at the same time. and the hair color that brings an extra glow to his skin.

you feel nervous just sitting next to him, even. someone of this caliber should be starring in tv dramas or attending some prestigious university. what the hell is he doing sitting next to you in some intro class that he can probably pass with closed eyes.

that is until you actually speak to him. and all respect, any small amount of admiration you had for him, goes out the door.

because this dude is entitled and stuck-up as hell.

he's always had this aura around him that he's better than everyone else in the class; speaking very little and barely acknowleding anyone. but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

you're working on a simulation assignment, stuck on a step you cannot get past although you already double checked everything. a quick glance to the front shows your professor already occupied with assisting other students, so you bite the bullet.

you don't do it very often, you're not good with new people. but there's no other way.

seeing as yeosang is already done with his, maybe he can help you out on just this very teeny step; a favor.

but he nearly snide; click his tongue and puffs out an air of annoyance like you're a mere inconvenience when you just muttered a small "hey..." with the lightest tap on his arm.

he looks over your screen momentarily and has the most irritated expression you've ever seen on anyone.

then a scoff departs from him. mockingly.

"if you're already struggling with something as simple as this, maybe you should reconsider your choice of major, princess."

and your jaw drops.

so uncalled for, and all over something so miniscule. the nickname and his tone lets you know of the blatant sexism since you're the only girl in a class full of men.

his attitude reminds you of someone. someone you've since learned to forget. leave behind.

and from that day on, you told yourself: kang yeosang can go choke on a stick.

"it's gonna be fun!" mingi slaps your back.

god knows how the hell he actually managed to convince you to come to one of jung wooyoung's magnificent party. your first ever college party. but he had gotten an invitation from the man himself.

not even a week after talking about them, and you're already here to testify it for yourself, if they truly are as great as people say they are.

you had asked yuna if she wanted to come along, just because she's the only other person besides mingi and yunho that you know, but she had plans with her parents tonight.

yunho is running late and had given the okay for you guys to go first. said he'll show later with his roommate, who he has been hushed about except for a few small comments that they get along well.

"i think i might throw up," you say, turning to mingi with a frown.

the house isn't as big as you had thought; quite mid-size actually and very modern, which leads you to believe that jung wooyoung does in fact, have a house off-campus as well.

"no no," mingi coos, rushing to your side immediately, arms thrown around your shoulders.

"you're going to be okay. i'm gonna be right next to you all night. i promise." he smiles. "now let's go in."

the music is blaring loud, strobes of flashy lights; all pink, green, and blue, lasering through your eyes and there's drunken bodies everywhere as mingi drags you through the front and into the house.

the space is so tight with everyone busting ass on the dance floor and you attempting to dodge so you won't get hit, you're literally holding your breath in hope you won't lose mingi, or the other way around.

he finally stops near a corner with less traffic, a couch to the right and he lets go of your hand.

"hey!" you hear a voice; a new one.

you watch as a smaller, much shorter man than mingi with parted black hair and a red solo cup in his hold, goes to handshake him.

you're guessing that's wooyoung.

"you made it!" he screech excitedly. you just realize how high he can actually go.

"i did!" mingi replies back with the same enthusiam. "and it looks awesome, man."

these two are literally made for each other, you think.

"thank you thank you," he accepts the compliment with a cheeky smile.

"ah! this is my friend i was telling you about!" mingi all of sudden pulls you into the spotlight, only for you to cower in immediately with a flustered reaction.

wooyoung chuckles.

"she's a shy one, i see."

mingi chuckles back.

"you have no idea."

wooyoung straightens his posture, eyes boring into yours and holding his hand out.

"wooyoung." he smiles.

you slowly and hesitantly reach out your own to meet his, uttering in the quietest volume known to men, "y-y/n."

when he kisses the top of your hand, you almost jump just from the cultural shock, but is able to contain yourself in just the same 'ole flustered face.

"nice to meet you."

he breaks apart the contact, and so do you. resting your hand back at the side.

"if you need anything, or have any questions, just let me know, y/n. happy to help."

you only nod in return, averting your gaze to mingi for him to say something because the nonexistent social butterfly in you is dying out.

"oh, yes!" he says out of nowhere.

you're now seated on the couch, watching the abundance of people grind against one another on the dance floor, and then moving your attention back to mingi and wooyoung still at the same spot chatting away like they have all the time in the world.

mingi had gotten you a drink just so you'll have something to do. just so he'll feel less guilty about having dragged you up in here and is now throwing you off to the side.

nothing alcoholic. just punch.

you take another sip of your drink, the cup just out of your vision and boom--mingi and wooyoung now gone. just like that.

so much for "i'm gonna be right next to you all night." your freaking ass.

a small surge of panic rushes at the comprehension of no mingi in sight and a bunch of strangers around you, stuck on someone's couch.

you pull your phone out to text yunho.

y/n: are you at the party yet? mingi just left me. i don't know anyone here ☹️

yunho: yeah i arrived a little while ago. where are you?

y/n: i don't know. inside the house, on the couch?

yunho: i'm coming

you breathe a sigh of relief, hoping yunho will be able to sweep you away soon, but proceeding to leave a message for mingi as well, just if he answers.

everything's already beginning to close in like walls and making you majorly uncomfortable.

but then five minutes passes, then ten, then fifteen, and yunho is still nowhere to be seen and mingi hasn't replied either.

y/n: are you coming?! 😭

yunho: some dickhead is out here causing a ruckus and blocking the entrance inside the house. stay put, or maybe go out to the back and see if mingi's there?

you scowl. just great. one glance to the left confirms the commotion, so you get up and shove your phone into your pocket, carrying the cup in your hand that still has a decent amount left, and going on a search for your wonderful best friend.

it doesn't seem as packed back here as it is up front, but still requiring for you to muster up some strength to be able to push past some sweaty bodies and out into wooyoung's backyard.

but it becomes a grave mistake, because if the front is bad, this is just heinous.

music from all corners of the yard, a big heated pool right in the middle and a bunch of almost-naked people in their swimsuits splashing in and out. you don't know how you're going to even make it to the other side to find mingi.

but all it takes is another once-over of the current situation for you to conclude that you'll probably have better luck of yunho finding you.

you spin around to head back inside, until a voice, almost like nails on chalkboard at this point, comes into the picture.

"i didn't think i'd see you here," yeosang mumbles, just standing slightly off to the side, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

your eyebrows furrow into madness because instead of running to anyone else, it just has to be him.

didn't think he'd see you here? why? because you look like a total bookworm who'd rather stay in her room than be out at a party? it might be true, but his generalizing ass is annoying you.

you don't give him any sort of reply that might feed into that sick ego of his. only roll your eyes dramatically and continue on your feet, trying the best to get inside once again.

but it seems like the crowd only multiplies by the minutes, more and more people coming and you getting lost in the herd.

"excuse me," you grit through your teeth, not at all giving up.

but with shoulders grazing, body parts touching, and reeks of alcohol that definitely isn't you, one lift of an arm from anywhere and the drink in your hold will be gone.

which is exactly what happens. your cup flies out of your hand to whoever's hard chest you just came in contact with. it drops and rolls onto the ground, stepped on by passersby and crushed to the sinking cement.

though not before whatever was still left in there spilled itself onto this stranger that was coming from inside while you were countering from the opposite direction.

"i'm so sorry!" you say apologetically, the sight of his drenched black shirt already embarrassing as it is.

but one push from the back and a grunt leaving your mouth, you trip and fall right forward--which would have been detrimental have an arm not wrap themself around your waist to keep balance.

your palms now on this stranger's hard chest and you're thinking to yourself: it can't be any worse than this. wetting this stranger and now he has to keep you from falling, too.

but when you finally look up to meet his gaze, it gets much worse when you see just about the most attractive person right in front of you.

his sharp eyes returning your starstruck ones and a coy smirk on his lips from having you in such a position.

you think you're about to pass out.

"you okay?" he asks, and it plucks one of your heartstrings, how mellow and soft his voice is. nothing alike his intimidating appearance.

you nod, and only just registers you're still leaning on his chest like an idiot when a small chuckle leaves him. his arm already untangled itself.

"sorry..." you whisper lowly, standing back on your toes and he smiles. you catch the indentations on his cheeks that are made of dimples and oh my gosh. this is the guy you just made the worst first impression on.

"hey, it's okay," he assures.

you observe him peeking his head out, checking either sides before swooping your wrist so fast, you almost gasp.

he turns back around and leads you inside the house. the process is much quicker, considering he's taller, stronger, and able to squeeze his way through without all the pitiful pleadings.

you're not sure where he's going, but he seems to know his way around just fine.

but such a handsome stranger gripping onto you so tightly does do a little something to your heart.

you take the time to admire him from the back and you notice he has some broad shoulders. manly, sexy, broad shoulders.

"let's get you cleaned up."

his melodic voice snaps you out, seeing that he brought you to the kitchen, right next to the sink.

it's surprisingly peaceful in here. the muffled music still audible from an earshot, but nothing barbaric like it was before.

maybe this handsome stranger is a regular at wooyoung's parties.

he starts ripping the paper towels from the holder and you can only stare in amazement at how he manages to make such a simple task look so... captivating.

he hands you a bunch of them and it takes a hot second for your words to unclog itself from your throat.

"oh no. only a little bit got on me, and some on my shoes, i think," you refuse the gesture.

he giggles silently and switches his gaze to your sneakers.

"cute shoes." he smiles, and it also just sinks in right now how unreal the lighting from the kitchen makes him look.

you feel your cheeks heating up. hopefully he doesn't notice.

"thanks..." your eyelashes flutters once, and a faint smirk crawls onto him from the image.

"you don't go to parties often, huh?" he says, dabbing his shirt lightly with the paper towels.

was it the way you looked? that excruciating expression on you that tells him you've never been to a single party in your life, or maybe the clueless, dim-witted act in such a setting that speaks volume.

"not at all actually. i was looking for my friend."

"oh!" he perks up, some kind of interest sparking. "i might be able to help if you tell me who she is, or maybe he?"

"well, i'm sure you know jung wooyoung."

a smile so handsome cracks on him at the name drop.

"i know jung wooyoung. he's your friend?" but something about the way he said it feels like he knew more about wooyoung than just know.

you shake your head.

"my friend went off with him. mingi. song mingi."

he squints his eyes.

"name's not ringing any bell. but shouldn't be too hard locating wooyoung. he's usually upstairs entertaining the guests or down by the pool hosting some games. i'm guessing you already checked outside?"

"i was out there, but... there were too many people. that's why i was coming back."

he nods and settles on a gentle smile.

"we can check upstairs then, you okay with that?"

you nod and wait for him to finish, keeping quiet as he throws the used towels to the trashcan. but you can still spot some wrinkles on his shirt where it has been untouched.

"you're not going to clean all of it?" you ask so genuinely, innocently, he thinks you're already too endearing.

he releases a chuckle and shake his head.

"you get used to drinks spilling on you the more you attend these events. might not be the last one of the night, you never know."

"oh..." all you say, a little embarrassed from the remembrance of your doing, but he finds the pink blush decorating your cheeks incredibly cute.

he smirks, only to replace it with a smile shortly after.

"let's go find your friend."

you nod and follow behind him. almost wishing he'll reach around to pull you along with those veiny arms as he guides you just like he did before.

baby steps, y/n. baby steps.

but you guys aren't even out of the kitchen yet, when something goes off in the pocket of his pants.

he stops instantly and you could've knocked right into his back, but manages to keep a safe distance.

you only observe with wide-eyes as he pulls his phone out, the screen reflecting on his perfect face and something about him changes that second.

a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that lasts longer than the one he gave you before, shooting a quick glance your way, moving back to the screen and thrusting the device back.

he turns around and you await in your stance.

"unfortunately, i won't be able to. something came up. think you'll be able to navigate your way around? turn right after you exit and the stairs should be there. wooyoung is usually in one of the rooms upstairs."

it's a bit disheartening but this stranger has already done so much for you, especially given the starting circumstances. and you couldn't ask for more.

"i should be able to," you tell him.

"perfect." he shuts his lips into a smile. "and if you don't mind me asking, may i know your name?" a more cheekier one arises.

"y/n..."

"y/n. i'm gonna remember that. well, then i'll see you around on campus. you go to the one across the street, right?"

you nod. "same one as wooyoung, yeah."

"awesome! see you then, y/n."

a part of you conflicted, wondering if you should ask for his name, too. you would want to know the name of such a kind, handsome stranger that helped you.

but you open your mouth to say something, and he's already gone. ponder about the possibility of ever really seeing him again, and acknowledge the two or three butterflies in your stomach.

you just might have developed the tiniest crush on someone you barely knew and have barely spoken with for under an hour.

a defeated sigh leaves you, eyes moving back to the kitchen exit and meeting yunho's surprised ones.

"y/n!"

when mingi suspiciously brings up you not being upset, or at least not upset enough that he ditched you, you tell him that it's fine. it happens. college party shit.

you won't really tell him that because he's an awful, promise-breaking friend, it eventually lead you right into the chest of a cute, handsome, dimpled stranger. literally.

and you also won't tell him that you're still thinking of this stranger; so much that you didn't even realize you had carelessly accepted an invitation out to dinner until he comes knocking at your door.

"how do you accidentally say yes to an invitation? i gave you a whole ass speech about it, girl. and you were nodding with hums and 'uh-huh'." he rolls his eyes.

"you talked a lot, mingi! i clocked out halfway." you shrug.

"you're a shit ass friend. just awful."

you scoff and lightly push him by the shoulder.

"you literally dipped on me for some dick, what are you talking about."

"okay, first of all, wooyoung is as straight as a ruler, believe it or not. and second of all, what happened to it's fine."

you blow a raspberry.

"so that's why he invited you out to dinner? you guys are friends now? and people can change their mind."

"more than friends," mingi corrects with a smile. "best friends now."

you roll your eyes and shake the statement off.

yunho's room is just a floor above mingi's, already able to spot the room number he gave you guys from where you're standing.

"oh shit," mingi suddenly voice out.

"what?"

"i forgot my phone."

he checks the pockets of his jacket, then patting down his pants, and... nothing.

"you go first. go wait in the lobby if i'm still not back yet by the time yunho's ready."

"fine."

he walks off, and then there was one.

lately, luck seems to be working against you, doing the most to make sure you're excluded from your friends. that includes being in the same dorm building.

you knock the door just twice, afraid of coming off annoying.

yunho also have a roommate, you have to keep in mind. mingi had mentioned his roommate will be dining with you guys.

you're about to knock again, when it flashes open with a squeak of the frame and your jaw drops at the person standing before you, having to nearly rub at your eyes just to make sure this isn't some sick joke.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you spit so bitterly.

yeosang grimace, before letting loose an irksome laughter.

"this is my room."

and that's when it hits you that...

"hey y/n!" yunho speaks from behind, fixing at his shirt. "about almost ready."

well hallefuckinglujah. might as well run you into the ground at this point. and when a smirk dashes across yeosang's lips, you can picture how red your knuckles are from all the clenching.

you're greatly disappointed in yunho, and in mingi.

okay, maybe they didn't know you knew kang yeosang and your rather unpleasant experiences with him since you didn't tell them, but it does make you question how they're able to stand someone like him. especially yunho.

someone so... egocentric and self-absorbed, when yunho is anything but that.

makes you want to shudder even more thinking back to him talking so kindly about his roommate that he gets along with so well.

even right now as yeosang's sitting across from you with that stupid smirk still on, it makes you want to lounge forward and wipe it off his equally stupid face.

"my treat, guys! eat to your heart's content," wooyoung announces. he's in the seat next to yeosang and even he, already likes him, too.

"don't have to tell me twice," mingi replies, flipping through the menu.

"oh, right," yunho snaps up. "about this friend of yours, he coming?"

wooyoung had talked about inviting another friend along, but he's running late. very late.

"he should be on his way, yes."

you're listening to wooyoung when you suddenly feel a soft kick to your ankle, almost giving it away by your reaction.

you move your focus from wooyoung to yeosang and see that he's trying to hide an amused smile.

two can play at a game.

so you kick him back, with actual force and gratification when his face twists in pain.

you're too busy playing footsie with yeosang and lasering each other deathly glares, that you miss the opening of the restaurant's door, and even wooyoung standing up.

"ayyy, he's here! my best bud, my partner in crime!"

only at wooyoung's louder voice, do you turn to the new arrival and immediately, heart eyes overcome your vision when you realize who it is.

and when he locks gaze with you, his mouth draws into a smile; those cute, cute dimples showing. and he's so, so handsome.

"my man, choi san!"

next // series m.list

taglist: @sorryimananti-romantic @revehosh @cookiechristie @avantalem @atiny68 @belletiny @shibera @mochibabycakes @justineasian

#san x reader #san smut #ateez series #choi san x reader #san angst #ateez angst #fic: broken

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myreygn · 6 months

Note

Hellooo! :3

I just thought of a kny hc and would like to share it with you!

So, you know how Nezuko is a demon, but she doesn't really have fighting experience? (I'm talking just roughly about episodes 1-5, season 1 of the anime here)

Well, I was thinking, and she slept for 2 years (I think?) And in episode 5, she was awake because she hugged Tanjiro and all that. So I've thought of a headcanon in which Nezuko woke up the day after Tanjiro went to Finale Selection and Urokodaki trained her for the entire week so that she had a bit of experience

I don't know what else to say, and I'm tired, so I'll leave it at that, but yeah, I just wanted to share it with you! :3

koku so great to hear from you!! :D how have you been? i hope the universe treats you kindly! 🖤🖤

OH MY GOD THIS HEADCANON 😭 i love urokodaki and his relationship to his students and nezuko so much and let me just say YES

when nezuko woke up he spent a lot of time to just try and connect with her and once she was ready to listen he told her everything that happened while she had been asleep. of course she wanted to go and help tanjiro and urokodaki had to say no i'm sorry you can't go there - you probably couldn't do much anyway, you might be a demon but you're still just a child that has never really left her home, let alone had to fight.

but urokodaki knows that she's gonna go with tanjiro once he returns and his next thought is hey maybe i should teach you some moves. nezuko is a big fan of that idea and urokodaki holds a speech about how this is gonna be very tough and they won't have the time to let her get accustomed to the new schedule slowly. nezuko nods in understanding and when urokodaki goes to wake her the next night, she's already waiting for him outside. they practice all night every night and at the end of the week urokodaki has to admit to himself that he's a teeny little bit exhausted but it was worth it.

nezuko even starts to get up in the afternoon after two days and they spend the extra hours sitting together and urokodaki tells her stories or plays music. he often hears her humming his songs in her sleep and when he watches tanjiro leave with her it breaks his heart in more than one way.

#i love them so. fucking. much.#water breathing family is so dear to my heart #thank you for this headcanon you're amazing!!#ily my dear make sure you stay hydrated and sleep enough ♡♡#rey answers #rey's moots #koku 🌻#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #urokodaki sakonji #nezuko kamado

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lpwrites · 2 years

Text

pass/fail

Day One - A Teenage Boy

Scott had a weird relationship with Spanish. His parents both spoke Spanish, and he got the gist of it most of the time, but when it came to figuring out conjugations and irregular verbs and whether a noun was la or el or both, Scott wouldn’t have known where to start. His mom had suggested taking Spanish with Stiles, and the idea of it had felt good at the time.

Sitting in class, watching Mrs. Flores pass out tests face down, Scott liked it less and less.

(It wasn’t that he hadn’t studied, or that he didn’t care about the class. But his nightmares were getting worse, and he kept waking up with leaves in his bed, like he had spent the entire night running through the preserve, and the nagging feeling that his dreams weren’t dreams but memories of him hunting people and hurting them made focusing on the test material near impossible.)

He braced himself as the paper slid across his desk, waiting until Mrs. Flores moved onto Stiles before flipping it over.

The words were written in red ink, stark against the black and white of his test: See me after class please.

No grade, though there was enough red ink dancing between the answers on his test for Scott to assume it wasn’t great. Stiles winced when he saw the paper, quickly tucking his own into his backpack, but not before Scott spotted a passing grade in green.

“I really wish she wouldn’t color code tests,” Scott sighed, slumping in his seat.

“Hey, it’s the ADHD vibe, don’t hate.” Stiles squeezed his shoulder in support. “Besides, you can make it up, right? Mrs. Flores is cool, she’s probably just gonna make you retake it next week.”

“I don’t have the time to retake a test, I barely had time to study for it this time.” Between work, struggling to control the urges that came with being a new werewolf, and figuring out what was going on with Derek and the Alpha, Scott barely had time for himself, much less for schoolwork. The test in his hands was only one of many low scores he’d received during the week, but the first with any comments from his teachers.

“It’s fine,” Stiles insisted, dropping his hand off Scott’s shoulder as the bell rang to dismiss the class. “It’s not like she’s gonna give you detention. She’s not Coach.”

“Yeah…” It felt like it took ages for the class to empty, Scott lingering awkwardly by the door while pretending he wasn’t waiting. Mrs. Flores, for her part, didn’t seem to mind, putting up homework assignments into their corresponding drawers on the shelf beside her desk.

Once the last student left, and the door shut, Mrs. Flores turned to face him with a smile.

“Take a seat, Scott.” She motioned towards a seat in the front row, waiting for Scott to drop his bag before she moved around the front of her desk. She smiled again, reassuring, but there was something weird in the air, a taste Scott had never experienced, or a smell he’d never noticed, thick and not quite bitter, oppressive enough to get stuck in his throat.

(Apprehension was not a smell Scott thought he would become so accustomed to, later, but he supposed there could be worse things.)

“Scott…” She began but faltered, pausing to measure her words as the smell in the air got stronger. “I’m… concerned about a couple of things I’ve noticed, recently.”

“Like what?” Normally, Scott liked Mrs. Flores. Her lessons were great and her class never dragged, but he’d never seen her like this – anxious? Uneasy? It was strange, seeing an adult look so out of their depth, more so because it seemed to be because of him.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright at home?” She finally broached, mouth twisting at how awkwardly the words fell from her mouth. “Is your mom doing okay?”

Startled, Scott sat up, the lump in his throat solidifying into something cold and heavy. “Yeah! Yeah, my mom’s fine… why? Is something wrong? Did something happen to my mom?”

And maybe it was the anxiety in the room, the issue Mrs. Flores seemed to be tip-toeing around, that shot Scott’s heart rate up, drumming against his ribs, the pounding almost deafening. He fumbled for his bag, making to scramble out of the room and run all the way to the hospital if he had to, before his fingers caught on the straps. Or rather, his claws, fingers twisted awkwardly into the material, tangling with the much sharper nails on his hand.

“Scott!” The roaring in his ears ceased all at once, jarring as he realized Mrs. Flores had lunged forward, holding his shoulders, the sickly smell of anxiety and her orange scented lotion overwhelming. “Scott, you need to breathe! Where’s your inhaler?”

Weakly, Scott lifted his backpack, waiting for her to step back before he shoved his hand into the open pocket, fingers wrapping around the plastic casing of his inhaler. His fingers had gone back to normal, though his heart still pounded uncomfortably in his throat.

He took a pull of the inhaler for posterity, making a show of holding his breath, releasing it after a ten-count, though all it did was make his throat taste of chemicals and metal.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mrs. Flores said, and it was nice to know she meant it, guilt mixing sickly sweet into the air. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Scott croaked, clearing his throat in an attempt to swallow past the swirling scents around them. Mrs. Flores didn’t look like he believed him.

“Your grades have been slipping since the year started, and we’ve all noticed. You’re a good kid, Scott. You’re an incredibly hard worker, you’re a model student, you get along with your peers, you’re always a pleasure to have in class but…” She waved her hand, letting it drop heavily. “Is it problems at home? Is there someone bothering you at school? Is it your dad…?”

“N-no, my dad’s not around.” Scott frowned, breathing out slowly to let his heart rate settle. “I mean, like, it’s fine, he’s just not. We don’t talk. B-but it doesn’t have anything to do with him, I promise.”

“Is there something else?” She walked around her desk, digging through one of the drawers for a moment before returning to stand in front of Scott, holding out a bottle of water and a slightly crushed granola bar. “You have a job, right? Everything’s okay there?”

“Yeah, Doctor Deaton’s really good, he’s not…overworking me or anything like that!” Scott bit his lip, feeling himself shrink under Mrs. Flores’ raised eyebrow before taking the offered snacks.

“I didn’t imply he was,” she said gently, holding her hands up, palms out. Relax. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Everything’s fine,” Scott insisted, feeling the words fall flat in the empty room. The temptation was there, for a second: Mrs. Flores? Actually, I’m a werewolf and there’s hunters that are trying to kill me, but also the werewolf that bit me is murdering people and we don’t know why, and I don’t know what to do, and I’m scared, and I can’t focus on subjunctive conjugations even if you make them really interesting, and I’m sorry.

“Everything’s fine,” Scott echoed, letting his shoulders slump. “It’ll be fine.”

Mrs. Flores frowned, crouching enough to meet Scott’s lowered gaze. “Do you need tutoring, maybe? You know we have programs for that after school, right? Or, if you need to you can come in during lunch. My door’s always open, Scott.”

“Yeah. I know.” Scott swallowed the last of the lump in his throat, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder, half holding it against his side. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. Flores sighed, then nodded slowly, straightening to lean back against her desk. “Scott, before you go…” She cleared her throat, sending him a sad little smile he couldn’t quite figure out. “I know high school is…hard. Lots of things are changing, and you’re becoming more independent… But if something is wrong, you have people who can help you and support you. You’re growing, but you’re still a kid. It’s okay to ask for help. We’re all happy to help you, but you need to talk to us first.”

Scott nodded, swinging his bag fully onto his shoulder, hoping she didn’t notice the faint clink of chains as they knocked around. “Yeah… Thank you, Mrs. Flores, I know.”

He scrambled out the door before she could continue, leaving behind a cloud of guilt. Hopefully, some day he'd be able to be the student they believed he could be, but until the issue with the Alpha got resolved, Scott had more important things to worry about.

#teen wolf #scott mccall #scottmccallweek #god forgive me my typos #all i want more than ever is for an adult to look at scott and tell him its okay! he's a child! it's okay to BE a child!#i'll ramble more later i have work in the morning

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao).

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait.

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key.

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster.

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it.

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back.

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you.

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards.

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity.

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in.

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you.

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out.

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it.

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay.

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week.

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone.

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house.

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho.

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening.

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day.

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around.

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son.

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying.

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his.

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it.

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever.

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out.

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car.

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part.

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

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eunwhore · 2 years

Text

8th Member Of BTS - You're announced as the 8th member

Feel free to request if you have any idea !

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Namjoon:

When their manager announced to the whole group that they were about to welcome a new member and that this new member would be a girl, he was a bit confused, not gonna lie. But not in a bad way, it's just that it is so unexpected after living with 6 other males. Though, he was very curious about you. Who was crazy enough to accepted to spend your career as the only feminine member of a group. You must a strong girl so he couldn't wait to meet you and learn more about you.

"She must be crazy for being okay with living with us"

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Seokjin:

Seokjin was beyond happy and excited. He praised a lot about the idea and couldn't wait to meet you. Just the fact that you accepted to join them already made him believe that you'll be the funniest girl he'll ever meet. Maybe he placed his hope a little too high or maybe not.

"She will be my partner in crime, I know it"

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Yoongi:

Yoongi was a little suprised and, not to be rude or anything but he kinda questioned if it was a good idea or not. It's just that one girl in the middle of seven guy sounded like a bad joke. But he was still curious and didn't to listen his first impression for once, so he was excited to meet you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea ?"

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ J-hope:

Every announcement of a new member in BTS was a source of excitement for the dancer but this one was different for sure so he was even more excited. Meeting new people is always exciting right ? He couldn't wait really, asking every three seconds when they'll get to meet you. He's the cutest of them all.

"So, when are we meeting her ? In only a week ? Can't we meet her tomorrow ?"

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Jimin:

So, this little tease. Park Jimin isn't Park Jimin if he doesn't have at least one dirty thought throughout the day. So of course, when he heard about the possiblity of having a girl in the group he couldn't help but thinking about flirting with you. Little did you know that he got scolded by Namjoon as soon as he shared this thought.

"A girl ? Interesting..."

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Taehyung:

Taehyung was surprised to say the least, when their manager arrived and announced that he had a surprise for them, he was expecting anything but a new member, a girl, moreover. But his surprise quickly changed into curiosity and excitment. Being the social bird that he is, he was happy to meet someone new !

"For a surprise, this is a surprise ! I thought we were getting free food..."

⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Jungkook:

It's complicated to explain what was going on in Jungkook's mind. He was confused, for sure, he even thought it was a joke at first but seeing his manager being all serious, he understood that it was real. For the first minute he was okay about it, being a bit curious but that changed when a detail got out. You were younger than him, which means he would be the maknae of the group. He, who had grown accustomed to having the full attention of his hyungs, could help but feel a little poke in his heart at the revelation.

"So...I won't be the cute one I guess ?"

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xiaojusaur · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven

Pairing: Friends to Lovers! Hendery x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Comedy

Warnings: car sex, fingering, squirting, dirty talking, multiple orgasms, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 6K

Description: Hendery was the new guy in class who didn’t know how to talk English well, that’s how you first start talking and then became good friends. You had a crush on him, but he didn’t know. Everything changed at a frat party; you shouldn’t have played 7 minutes in heaven with your friend.

You were accustomed to arrive early to the classroom because there was a certain desk you liked, plus you didn’t like being either too close or too far to the professor. Sometimes you really didn’t feel like paying attention, and today was one of those days.

On the way, you met with your best friend, but you couldn’t enroll in the same classes this semester, so she had to leave quickly.

When you got to the classroom, there was a new face and he was sitting on your favorite place. The shock froze you in place, he hadn’t noticed you were there as he was writing something down on his notebook and his dark mane was covering his face.

You decided to be nice and just sit on the desk on his left. When he was aware of your presence, he turned his head to you, your eyes meeting when you raised your glance. You smiled and he smiled back. He was cute. You both kept quiet until the rest of the classmates and the professor arrived.

“Class! We have a new student with us! Hendery, please say hello!” Your professor introduced the new guy to your right. He waved shyly. “Please be patient with him, he doesn’t know much English. He came all the way from Macau. If you guys see him struggling, please give him a hand,” your professor continued.

So that’s why he was so silent! He seemed so nice and you having a lot of empathy, could feel he was feeling anxious. It must’ve been hard not being able to communicate well.

The class continued and you were distracted with the fact that maybe Hendery couldn’t understand well what was being discussed. He looked so focused, you didn’t dare to interrupt him because maybe he was trying to do his best. So you waited for the class to be over and when he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute!” You whisper-shouted.

He turned around and his face seemed to light up.

“Are you okay? Did you understand the class?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I tried my best,” he shrugged and then giggled.

You giggled with him and then said, “If you ever need help to understand something, just ask me, okay?”

“Alright! Thank you!” He seemed genuinely happy that you were willing to help him.

“Do you know anyone around?” you didn’t want him to be alone.

“Yeah, I have a friend. I will meet him now to get lunch,” he explained.

“That’s good!” You nodded.

“Do you want to join us?” He asked you.

“That’s alright! I’ll meet with my best friend too,” you answered.

“Oh okay, see you later then,” he was about to leave when he remembered he didn’t know your name. “Oh! Wait! What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you smiled to him one last time before he nodded and left.

The months went on like that. Hendery occasionally came for help, he liked teaming up with your for group projects, and he even invited you to lunch a few times. You liked spending time together and slowly, he merged into your group of friends, bringing his group of friends also.

His English got better and better, he was almost and expert, even though he had a cute accent.

You found yourself having a huge crush on him, but you swore you would never tell him. For you, he was way out of your league, you weren’t his type, and you didn’t even know about his language, though he had tried several times to teach you some words and expressions.

“Hey!” He arrived to your apartment without notice to find you curled up in your sofa watching a movie.

“Hi! What’s up?” You said while checking your phone to see if he had texted you, finding an empty screen.

“So, tonight’s there’s this frat party from the frat house Yangyang is in, do you maybe wanna go?” He then smiled widely, trying to convince you.

“I don’t know... I’m not in the mood for partying today,” you replied while cuddling the cushion.

“Come onnn!” He flopped by your side on the couch, “Lyndsey is gonna be there! She’s gonna stalk me the whole night!” He groaned.

“Well, that’s your own fault! You dicked her down and she got addicted,” you shrugged, laughing at him later.

“Hey! I was in need!” He explained unnecessarily.

“You guys can’t last a week without pussy, that’s sad, you know,” you were mocking him.

“It’s in our nature, what can we do? Plus, how long has it been since you got laid?” He was smirking, trying to make fun of you.

“Shut up,” you pushed him playfully.

“So come on!!!! Let’s go to the frat party!” He started shaking you by the arm.

“Alright! Alright! Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You jumped to your feet and went to your room to change, your quick choice being a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, a bomber college jacket, and some sneakers. You texted your best friend.

Hey! Are you going to that frat party?

Idk... are you?

Dery is making me go. Something about Lyndsey and stuff

Sucks. I can accompany you

Please! It’s possible he finds someone else and leaves me alone there surrounded by strangers

Fine, I’ll throw something on and see you there.

You got out of your room and Hendery was there, laying back on the couch while watching the TV. He looked so cute. You couldn’t believe you had a crush on him and he hadn’t noticed.

“We’re ready to go,” you announced and he looked at you from head to toe and back up. He catcalled you as a joke, “Look at my bestie gooo! She’s gonna seduce some men!”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Fine, let’s go!”

At the party, you met with your best friend while Hendery went with his friends. Everyone was wilding, playing beer pong, dancing, drinking, making out on the corners.

You stayed by your friend’s side, dancing and drinking. Hendery found you in the crowd and started dancing with you too, after all, you were that comfortable with each other. He grabbed your hips and was grinding on you while you followed his hips. When the song finished he said he was gonna get more alcohol while you ran to your best friend again.

“Are you not gonna tell him ever?” She asked you, talking about your huge crush in Hendery.

“I don’t think I will. I mean, we’re okay as we are,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lose his friendship and you thought that if you told him, everything would turn awkward, so you just decided to keep it to yourself.

As the night went by, people started to get sleepy, some passing out on the couches, others disappeared who knows where. Only a few were still alive and among them were Hendery, your friend, the infamous Lyndsey, and you. Someone had the bright idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven just for the sake of relieving high school memories, so you all sat on the floor in circle. Some random guy looked for an empty bottle that would choose the lucky couples. You were sitting across Hendery, who looked spaced out, probably drunk already and being stalked by Lyndsey. The poor girl’s eyes were shining with high hopes of getting a chance to be alone with Dery again. You were mocking him and he was acting annoyed.

As the game progressed, many random couples got to be locked in the darkness of the closet. Your friend matched with the very hot Jaehyun guy from English class but she didn’t spill anything. While you were teasing her, you heard Hendery’s name along with some noise by his friends. You were about to start mocking him too when you noticed the bottle was pointing at you.

You swear your surroundings froze in time. Your friend’s eyes widened because she knew how you felt. Hendery tho, was excited because after all, it was you and he wouldn’t feel so awkward.

“Aren’t you going?” Said the guy who had the control of spinning the bottle, Lyndsey looked at you and then to Hendery, expecting you to not go. Hendery actually helped you to stand up and basically dragged you into the closet with him. Before locking the door, the guy with the timer said, “Whatever you do, you have 7 minutes. Nothing more,” and with that, he left you two alone in the darkness of the closet.

You were holding into Hendery’s arms, maybe to know he was there, maybe as a support, or perhaps because you wanted to feel him close.

“Well, at least I’m saved from Lyndsey,” he laughed nervously.

“Yup, once again, I am your savior,” you remarked.

Being alone with Hendery wasn’t awkward usually, but there was some weird tension going on in the tiny space of the closet.

“What should we do?” He asked in a whisper, the air emitting from his lips blowing you right on the face because he was too close.

“I don’t know... talk? We’re friends, this isn’t weird,” you tried to convince yourself.

“I mean... yeah...”

“These had been the longest seven minutes of my life,” you stated.

“Let’s kiss, maybe that would make it less awkward and the time will go faster,” Hendery suggested and you swear the butterflies in your stomach made a tornado.

“You think kissing between friends is less awkward?” You asked confused.

“Well yeah, I mean, we’re friends. It shouldn’t be weird, it’s only a kiss,” he said, ignorant of your feelings for him.

“Okay then,” you agreed, “but let’s not allow this to make us awkward after, alright?”

“Promise,” he gave you his pinky to hook with yours.

In less than a second, his lips crashed on yours. You thought it was just gonna be a peck, but then he started moving his lips, and automatically, yours responded. His tongue darted between your lips, looking for yours to tangle with. Your arms snaked around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist, bringing you even more closer. Having him like this sparked the feeling inside you more: you were in love with this guy without remedy.

When you two were getting comfortable with it, you heard the alarm outside, indicating time was up. You detangled from each other, fixing your hair and your clothes to make it seem that nothing had happened. Everyone knew you two were best friends and to give the tiniest hint that you had done anything in there would be enough for your group of friends to start teasing you. When the door opened, you went on with your normal friendship and acted as if you haven’t kissed passionately a few minutes ago.

You were too overwhelmed, so you decided to leave with your friend. Hendery stayed. He was probably gonna crash in with the boys.

On the way back, your friend was telling you about her experience with Jaehyun, and then she remembered your time with Hendery.

“Did anything happen in there? You two looked pretty normal to me,” she inquired.

“Well... we kissed,” you shrugged.

“I knew it -wait what?!” She was shocked! “You kissed? As in a peck or-?”

“As in full tongue,” you nodded.

“Oh my God...... how do you feel?” She was concerned now.

“Like I’m in love... I feel like as soon as his lips touched mine, I was done, I completely fell in love with him,” you confessed.

“Oh no.... what you gonna do now?” She asked.

“Try to not be awkward and act as if it was nothing. Friends can kiss right?” You fake-smiled.

“No they cannot! Friends with benefits do... but I don’t think you’re there yet,” she scratched her neck.

“I’m fucked aren’t I?”

“Very...”

You tried avoiding Hendery until you felt better and collected your thoughts, but that was kinda impossible since he was everywhere and he looked for you everyday. So you did your best to not looked like you were having a turmoil of feelings every time you saw his stupid, beautiful face.

There you were, having lunch all together. He was talking about how he wanted to talk to a cute girl who was a few tables away. Your friend placed her hand on top of yours in silent support.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was up with you. He usually talked to you about his affairs with other females and you weren’t this affected, but today you were bothered by it. While his friends celebrated that he was going to get her number, you stood up and left with the excuse of having to study because of a test. Your friend followed you.

“I think you need to talk to him,” she suggested.

“I don’t know. I feel is going to be useless,” you grunted.

“Y/N, it has gotten to a point where you’re always fuming. He will start noticing your behavior soon if you keep this up, so my advice is that you two sit down and talk this out,” she stepped in front of you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! He doesn’t feel the same way I do. I’m the one trying to ruin our friendship,” you said as you threw your hands in the air in frustration.

“First of all, you don’t know that. Second of all, if you keep bottling it, you’re gonna explode and it’s going to be worse. And that’s not ruining a friendship, it’s only natural you like him. You spend time together, he knows you well, he brings you snacks...” Your friend was trying to talk reason back to you.

You whined, “But how am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just sit him down and tell him, ‘Listen, I have this huge crush on you, please love me back’, he’s a guy, he won’t understand.”

“Well, if he feels the same way he WILL understand,” she said matter-of-factly.

“That isn’t helping! Ughhh! I need to plan something... something that looks casual but it’s the right moment, you know what I mean?”

“How about... how about you invite him to watch a movie? That’s something you guys do often, right?” She suggested and you nodded. “You watch a movie, you have your snacks, you cuddle as you always do, and then you tell him. What do you think?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you laughed.

You gasped, “How do you know we cuddle? Are you spying on me?!”

“Come on, let’s be realistic. You two look like cuddly people,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah true... your plan sounds good. Imma try it. You’re the best! I don’t know how my life would be without you,” you embraced your friend in gratitude.

At night, you texted Hendery to start with your plan:

Hey, dumbhead

Sup, headache

Do you have plans on Friday night?

Not yet, 为什么？(weishenme - Why)

Why are you texting me in Chinese?! You know I don’t understand! I mean, I’m deducing that means why.

🤪🤪🤪

Anyways! What do you think if we watch that new movie on Netflix?

Sure, I’ll bring snacks

Kay

好！

Now that you had everything planned, you started thinking about what to say and how to say it. You couldn’t just shoot it.

A few hours later, when you were about to go to sleep, you received another text from Hendery. It said it had an image attached. It was strange but you decided to open it. And then regretted it.

Hendery had sent you a spicy picture. It wasn’t a nude but it was pretty suggestive. He was holding his member over his pants, as if to show how big he is without actually showing. Almost a dick pic.

You panicked, you were sure that wasn’t for you. A sudden jealousy took over you because, why was he sending these pics to someone else? But also, your friend-self told you to keep calm and let him know.

Wrong number! Dumbass! Look at the number before sending these kind of things!

He didn’t answer for a while, but then he appeared

I’m sorry!!! Oh God! I’m so embarrassed!

It’s all good. At least you’re not showing anything. My eyes aren’t bleeding yet!

I’m really sorry!

It’s okay! We’re friends...

And you left him with that.

Friday arrived and you were nervous already, waiting for Hendery in your apartment. Around 8PM he knocked on your door and you yelled “Come in!” Too lazy to get up from the couch. He looked comfy but so sexy at the same time.

Hendery brought a lot of snacks and placed them on the low table.

“I brought your favorites and mines, to fix your day!” He said excitedly.

You smiled and replied, “Thanks! I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s get to it!” He yelled and you shushed him laughing, he was so noisy and your neighbors would complain.

You were cuddled up with each other while watching the movie. You were leaning on his chest while he played with your hair with one hand and ate popcorn with the other. You felt his eyes on you, so you looked up and your eyes met. He smiled to you and you smiled back. You didn’t know if it was your imagination but you felt he was getting closer to your mouth. In your panic you didn’t move and opted to let it happen, maybe this was a sign that he liked you back. But then, his lips never touched yours and only centimeters away he said, “Haha, gotcha,” with a groggy voice.

You got angry and couldn’t conceal it anymore. So you got off the couch as quickly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” He asked confused.

The ticking bomb inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong?! You dare to ask me what’s wrong?! Hendery! You just pretended you were going to kiss me and then told me it was a joke!”

“Hey! Calm down! I thought it would be funny! Since you know, we kissed in the game as a joke” His eyes widening in concern.

“So the kiss was a joke to you?” You said crossing your arms tightly.

“I thought it was just a game, it didn’t mean anything,” he explained.

“It did to me!” You blurted, your mouth talking before you could think straight.

He froze and gulped, “What?”

“Nothing,” you turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” He walked behind you, “talk to me! You’re acting really strange lately. You’ve been avoiding me, you get angry about everything... what is wrong? What changed?”

You leaned on the counter, trying to find the correct words. “What changed is...” you gulped and then continued, “My feelings for you, Hendery. That changed.”

He was so puzzled. “I don’t understand...”

“Hendery, I’m in love with you,” you confessed, feeling a relief within you.

You looked at him, his eyes were alarmed, not quite the reaction you were expecting. “I- I- I don’t know what to say...” he stuttered.

“You don’t have to say anything, Hendery...” you muttered.

“I- I’ll be right back...” he walked slowly to the door and left without his things. He didn’t come back.

“Great Y/N, great! You just ruined your friendship,” you said to yourself, running your hands through your hair.

You cleaned your apartment and curled up in your bed, regretting everything you just did.

You two didn’t talk for a week straight, not daring to approach each other. Hendery went to Xiaojun for help because he felt he was losing you and he didn’t want that, but he felt bad for leaving you hanging that night. You were expecting an answer from him, but at that time, he didn’t think you were going to say what you said.

“This is simple, Hendery,” said Xiaojun while cooking something. “How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t know!!!” He whined, pulling his long strands of hair.

“I think you do know, you just don’t want to accept it,” Xiaojun chuckled. “You can be honest with me, you know.”

“Ughhh! Okay,” Hendery groaned. “I think I’m pretty accustomed to her as my best friend that I didn’t think I could actually like her. But now thinking about it well, I feel like my best self when I’m around her. I can be myself and she won’t judge me, she follows my weird behavior, she shares snacks with me...”

“Let me change the question a little bit,” Xiaojun interrupted, “the day of the party, how did you feel when you kissed?”

After thinking about it a little, Hendery answered, “I wanted to keep kissing her. I felt so comfortable in her arms. She’s a great kisser btw,” he drifted away.

“Focus!” Xiaojun yelled.

“Okay, okay! I don’t know, I feel like I would be able to tell if I see her again... but I don’t know how to go back to her,” he sighed.

“How about you do a non-date date, something simple like going for a late night drive,” Xiaojun suggested.

“You’re a genius!” Hendery exclaimed.

“I’m a romantic, which is different,” he pointed out.

It was 12AM on a Friday and you we’re already cuddled in your bed when there was a knock on your door. You threw a hoodie on, to not wear a bra just in case, and went to see who was it.

You felt like the air was punched out of you when you opened the door and saw Hendery’s figure. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a cream-colored shirt, black joggers, and his glasses: the best look on him. “Hendery...” you said softly.

“Um... hi!” He smiled awkwardly, making him look so cute to you. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked this whole week and I didn’t have the best response to what you said and I’m sorry about that,” he was talking too fast.

“Hey... it’s okay,” you patted him on the arm. “You want to come in?”

“Actually, I came here for you. Do you want to go for a late night drive?” He was swinging, looking pretty nervous.

You sighed, “Do I have to change?”

“Not really, I mean, look at me,” he extended his arms and turned around. You giggled.

“Fine, let me get my shoes,” you ran to your room and put on the first sneakers you found and you both got in his car.

He was just driving around town, both of you being the old friends you were, singing loudly to the songs on the radio, laughing out loud, and watching the neon lights of the places that were open. He got down on a station to buy snacks for both and then kept going.

You ended up on a lonely hill with a view to the city lights. Sitting on the front of his car, you listened to Hendery talked about his life in Macau and what he missed. Then you were playing, trying to guess where were the places among the tiny lights at sight. Like magnets, you cuddled against each other without noticing; the night was getting cold after all. In the chit-chat, the clock marked 3AM. You got in the car again but Hendery didn’t started the car, instead he talked.

“Y/N... I’ve been thinking about what you told me.” There was a long silence between you two, so he continued, “I like the version of me when I’m with you. It’s so easy to not think about what to do or what to say, I can just speak my mind. I really appreciate you.”

“Same here, Dery,” you placed your hand on top of his, which was on his thigh.

“Im sorry for making you feel bad. I really didn’t think straight, I was in utter shock,” he apologized.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have said that the way I did,” you accepted.

“So no hard feelings?” He asked, looking at you now.

“No hard feelings,” you smiled.

But then the air changed between you two. A force was drawing you together and neither of you stopped it. Your lips touched, sparking the flame inside you again. And like that, Hendery knew he loved you too, because the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t stop dancing. His hand traveled to the back of your head, holding you softly. He pulled back first, mumbling, “I’m sorry, is this okay?”

“Only if it’s okay with you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he muttered before kissing you again, this time deepening the kiss. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. It turned to a passionate make out session and you were gasping for air. You smiled because you were kissing your best friend and Hendery smiled because you looked so cute.

“Should we take this to the backseat?” He suggested with a groggy voice.

“Here? Right now? Really?” You joked.

“I’m sorry! I’m desperate for you,” he shrugged. He jumped first, to lean the seat back for more space. Conveniently he had some sheets there. Then he beckoned you with his hands, inviting you to jump with him. You did as told but your foot got stuck on the front seat so you landed flat over him. You both started laughing at your disgrace but then started kissing wildly again.

He rolled over so you were under him. He fitted perfectly between your legs, as if you were made for him. Quickly, clothes started to be bothersome and he took off your hoodie. Then, Hendery’s hands ran underneath your shirt, reaching your breasts. He squeezed them and then started playing with your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Soon enough, he asked you, “Can I take this off?” Pulling your shirt. You simply responded, “Please.” He also took off his, revealing his beautiful body and threw both of your shirts to the front seat. One of his hands ran down your body, feeling all of you while he enjoyed your lips. You sighed in satisfaction, feeling yourself getting wetter with every touch and each kiss.

Hendery knew when to start touching you and he asked for your consent, “Can I touch you?”

“Please Dery, I’m so wet already,” you said in a needy whisper.

He groaned in response, his fingers not loosing time in snaking inside your shorts. First he touched you over your underwear and then he slipped inside your panties, finding your clit easily. “Oh my god,” you said in a breathy murmur.

“Fuck... you’re so wet,” he hissed. He took out his hand to pull down your pants and underwear, all in one go, helping you shimmy out of them. After all, none of this was being awkward between you, you felt comfortable with each other. Once he had you all at his mercy, he kissed your neck, his mouth going down and down while his hand went to your south. His lips enclosed your nipple at the same time his fingers got between your folds. God! He was so skilled! Your hand played with his hair while his did unholy thing to you.

He sticked his middle finger in you, going in and out, then he added his ring finger and started moving them fast and deep inside, making you whine. “Fuuuuck! Dery! Feels so good!”

He let go of your nipple with a pop, “You like my fingers, baby? Yeah?” His voice was lower than usual and breathier, it had your head spinning.

“Ooh! Yeah, I love them,” you cried and kissed him. You could hear the squelching sound coming from between your legs. You couldn’t believe Hendery was the one making a mess of you.

You felt your orgasm bubbling inside you, “Hendery I’m gonna cum,” you said in a high-pitched whimper.

“You wanna cum on my fingers? Do you like them that much?” He panted.

“Mmmm! Yes!” You moaned.

“Come on, baby, let go,” he commanded you and started thrusting his fingers faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said in a shattered chant and then you felt the delicious tingles all over your body, your eyes rolled back, and your back arched. Something unusual happened this time: strands of water gushed out of you and your legs started to shake. You cried loudly loosing all control of your body. Hendery was amazed of what he just did, “Shit! So hot!”

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed. “Oh god... I’m so sorry...” you hid on the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, that was so hot! I’ve never achieved that. Did you know you could do that?” He caressed your hair in assurance.

“No... it’s the first time that happens...” you whined in embarrassment.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he chuckled, “wanna know something? I’m harder now.”

“Deryyy!” You gasped.

“Can you take it?” He hummed.

“I can take all of you,” you smirked.

“So naughty, I like it,” he pecked your lips and proceeded to kneel in front of you, all bended to avoid smashing his head with the hood. He slipped his pants off easily, along with his briefs, his hardened cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight, the tip so pink, shinning with wetness, all ready to take you.

You opened your legs, inviting him, you couldn’t wait for him to be inside you.

He hissed when seeing your still wet core, “Fuck, I could’ve beat that long time ago,” to which you laughed. “Well, you decided to keep boundaries.”

“You’re my best friend, wasn’t it going to be weird?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I’m a man, you know. I’m weak. Do you think I didn’t wish to rearrange your insides some of those nights where we cuddled in your couch? It took the best of me to calm this little guy,” he grabbed his length. You burst out laughing.

“Are we really having this conversation when you’re about to wreck me?” You rolled your eyes.

“You started it!” He complaint.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” you taunted.

“Condom or no condom?” He asked.

“Wrap your weiner, I don’t know where you have sticked that thing in,” you commanded him.

“I’m clean! I always protect myself, who do you take me for?! I offered myself since I trust you as my best friend, but okay. And don’t call him a thing! He has a name!” he sounded so offended.

“Oh my god! Don’t take it personal! Maybe in the future I’ll let you fuck me raw,” you winked, “but for now, let’s do it this way.”

“Alright,” he said as he looked for his wallet in the pocket of the pants he just discarded. Finding the tiny foil square was fast and he was even faster rolling it down his shaft.

“Come here,” he pulled you closer by your legs, making you laugh. This whole adventure had been a fun ride for both of you.

He kissed you passionately again, one of his hands ran to your leg, bending it a little to have better access to your entrance. He then hold his length, rubbing the tip up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you bite your lip. You were shaking in anticipation.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you moaning. “Mmm, 操! (cào - Fuck), you’re so tight for me, baby,” his said in a shaky whisper.

He went as deep as he could, making you feel so full. “Hendery,” you breathed, “I feel so full.”

“Yes baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he assured you in hoarse groan.

He kept thrusting you slowly, passionately, enjoying every inch of you. The car was full of shaky breaths, low moans, occasional grunts, and the sound of kisses. Never in your life you thought you would share such an intimate moment with Hendery, but you were loving every second of it.

“Can I go faster?” He asked softly.

“Yes please,” you pleaded.

Hendery caged you in his arms and started snapping his hips faster. His lips whispered filthy praises in your ear, adding up to your want for him, “So good, your cunt feels so warm baby, wanna fill you up with my cum. Do you want that? Yeah? Mmmm... Making love to you feels so nice. I love you, I love you, I love you. This is the only pussy I wanna fuck for the rest of my life.”

Your hands hugged him back, running all his back, tangling in his hair, he had you crazy for him with every word. If you weren’t out of breath, you replied to his words with moans and mewls. “Mmmf! Hendery! Fuck! I love you so fucking much! Please keep fucking me, it feels so good!”

A few minutes later he panted, “I’m gonna cum.” He tried to go faster and he drove his hand south, finding your bundle of nerves skillfully. He was drawing circles while pummeling into you fast, making your second orgasm arrive with force, tightening around him. A sharp scream left your throat and you hugged him tightly. Hendery came with a guttural growl, “Ughhh! So good!” You could feel him pumping in you while he filled the condom.

When you both could breathe again, he embraced you and peppered you with kisses, making you giggle. “How are you feeling, my love?” He smiled.

“I like the sound of that coming from your lips,” you cuddled with him. He sighed, satisfied with the thought that you were his and he was yours.

“Then I will call you that all day just to see you happy,” he kissed you on the forehead.

“You’re my happiness,” you purred.

“I love you, I really do,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Dery,” you raised your head to kiss his lips.

“Do I need to pop the question or are we clear?” He joked.

“Imma torture you and make it pop it,” you chuckled beaten.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked confidently.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

After a moment of silence, Hendery suggested, “Up for round two?”

“Oh my god, you’ll be the death of me if your sex drive is this high,” you sighed.

“My sex drive with you will always be high. Imagine having to hide your boner for so many years and then finally getting the pussy of your dreams?” He was such a character.

“Stop!! That is not true” you shoved him with your elbow.

“Not true?! Do you wanna know how many times I masturbated after arriving home from our movie nights?!” He could be brutally honest sometimes.

“You masturbate?” You wanted to see him snap.

“Listen, Y/N, if I didn’t, my dick would’ve fallen off by now because holy fuck! I wanted to rail you so bad!”

You just exploded in laughs. He really was the man you loved.

“How many rounds can you make?” You asked him.

“I have a whole box of condoms to use with you. You decide,” he shrugged.

“So that’s 3?” You jeered.

“Very funny,” he said sarcastically.

The car kept rocking, the windows were fogged and Hendery almost could last till dawn making love to you. The rest of the night became an orgasm feast for you two.

You fell asleep, beaten thanks to the activities. When you woke up, the sky was painted in pastel colors, announcing dawn. You were wrapped under the sheets, naked with Hendery, on the back of his car.

You looked at him, he looked so cute sleeping soundlessly, you didn’t want to wake him up, but the sun was about to rise and you were away from the city.

“Baby,” you whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, as if asking what was wrong.

“Baby, I’m cold and the sun is rising,” you explained.

“Mmm... really?” His sleepy voice was making your head spin.

“Yes my love, we should go home. We can continue sleeping at my apartment if you want,” you suggested.

He yawned, “but then I’ll have to make love to you again because I want to be like this with you.”

You giggled, he was so cute talking while sleepy. You kissed his cheek. “We can just get naked and sleep.”

“It’s not the same,” he groaned. Hendery sat and stretched, then, he passed you your clothes.

You guys bought breakfast on the way home, you ate it and then went back to sleep. You spent the majority of the day in bed watching series, glad that you belonged to each other now.

#neosmutcollective #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #fanfic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv smut #wayv #wayv scenarios #hendery #hendery wayv #hendery smut #huang guanheng #nct fluff #wayv fluff #friends to lovers

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laketaj24 · 3 years

Text

The Business II: Sorry Mama

A/N: Sorry, I promised this Monday! But here it is! It is a little lengthy, but I think it’s worth it. Taglist here. Reqs are open! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, a little pettiness -

Part I

Colson Baker Masterlist

Song Inspo: Sorry Mama, Phem and Machine Gun Kelly

His home made you feel as if your tiny loft apartment above the record store was a fuck up. You didn’t even have a front door in Colorado, and here you were being presented a room bigger than your entire apartment. You sat comfortably on the bed, trying to escape a reality that was smacking you in the face.

“Interview at the radio station in the morning.” You had out your planner jotting down the long list of his upcoming events and practices. “Shit, he’s going to Cleveland next week.” Did you even have your license? Were you able to fly?

“Busy?” He knocked on the open bedroom door and then leaned his tall body against the door frame.

“Uhm, just making a schedule for the next few days.”

“Are you always awkward as hell?”

You scoffed. “Are you always abrasive?”

“Abrasive, no. Honest, generally yes. I’ve been trying to get you alone for two days.”

“I didn’t know.” You lied. His attempts were blatant; he’d bought you coffee every morning, granted you were his assistant, and he’d attempted conversations with you but him being your boss made it hard to define the lines in whatever you two were doing. “What are you trying to get me alone for?”

“To talk,” Colson walked into your room. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s pretty busy; you travel a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yep, all the time. Are you regretting it?”

“No,” you answered. “You?”

“Nah, I mean, you haven’t gotten me coffee or like done anything yet, but I think you’re cool.”

Your mouth dropped, and he burst into laughter. “Can I do anything for you today, Mr. Baker?”

“For me, no. I’m great. But you can come out of this room and go a few places.”

“My wardrobe is shitty. I’ve washed this outfit three times. And it’s not even mine.”

“It’s clear it’s mine,” he laughed again. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna pay you back.”

“No, the fuck you’re not, meet me downstairs. And you gotta wear your own shoes, you can’t fit mine. I’m like certain you don’t have big feet.”

He disappeared, leaving you in the bedroom by your lonesome. You had been sheltered the past three days, not talking to anyone but Kara, who had nothing good to say. And at this point, it didn’t matter. You just wanted her to stop calling you; she’d left you drunk with a bus full of men and said good luck.

The phone rang again and again; you answered, this time perching it on your shoulder. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Do I sound distraught to you?”

“You don’t have to be a smart ass! You quit your job. You haven’t come home. I was worried.”

“I’ve got a new job; I’m good. Thanks.”

“Being a whore?” She scoffed. “What’s the job?”

“None of your god damn business, you smart-ass arrogant bitch.” The call ended, and the eyes of Rook landed on you. “What?”

“You okay?”

“Oh, I’m better than fine.” You growled. Perhaps you shouldn’t take your anger out on him, but you did. “Can you move?”

“Certainly.” He smirked.

He moved out of the way, and you headed down the stairs; Colson awaited keys in hand and a smile on his face. “Assistant?”

“Colson.”

“Yeah?”

“Are we leaving?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for you and waited for you to go first. You lead the way staring at the array of vehicles in the driveway.

The store didn’t have everything that you wanted, but you were impressed it offered more than what you expected.” You looked at the black dress, slinkily hanging from the manikin. The satin would hug your curves, but it wouldn’t put them out for everyone to see. You liked it. You touched the soft fabric and then picked it up.

“If you get that dress, you gotta wear it home.” He said from behind you.

“Why is that” You two had not addressed the elephant in the room. You’d rode this man for hours straight and would do it again if he looked at you a certain way. But he was now your boss; there were lines to not cross in business. This was an apparent line that should not be crossed.

“I want my clothes back.” He said with a crooked smile. “So you either wear that or go naked?” Colson shrugged and looked in the body-length mirror in front of him. “You can decide; I think U might win either way.”

“What’s the prize that you win?”

“I don’t know exactly; you've been quiet as hell ever since you got off the tour bus.”

“I don’t remember how we met.” You admitted.

“You remember nothing?” He cocked a brow. Colson looked at you through the mirror; his face is stoic and unmoving. “You were that fucked up?”

“I’m not a good girl.” You answered. “I figured you knew that.”

“I don’t like good girls, so perfect.” He turned to face you and bit his lip. “You really remember nothing?”

“Is it worth remembering?” You teased.

“I’ll give you a refresher.” Colson pointed to the dress. “Put that on.”

“I’ll don’t think I want it anymore.” You brushed past him and looked up. “I’ll find something I like Colson, you just chill. Isn’t that what you told me you were here for? Just to chill.”

“You’re right; take your time.” Colson gave in quickly with a slight nod, and he moved to the men’s part of the store, not paying you any attention.

You were not a good girl; that made telling him no easy. So if you wanted to fuck him, you could fuck him. But, unfortunately, this was not the time; you barely remembered how this all started. Had it not been for the video footage, you’d be fucked. The feelings were all there, you blushed every time he cracked a smile, and yet you stood in a mental chamber confused about what to do.

You picked up a few items and headed into the changing rooms. They were huge, not like the department storerooms you were accustomed to; there was a mirror and a chair. You hung threw your clothes over the door and picked up the first dress. It was bright yellow, not really what an assistant should wear. You didn’t care. You slid it over your hips, jumping once to get over your ass, and then looked in the mirror. Yellow always looked good on you. You shook your head yes and smiled. Shit…, you were beautiful, hair pulled a messy ass bun and glasses on the tip of your noses, and you were the baddest bitch you’d ever seen in your eyes.

It was a yes for the yellow dress. You tossed it over the door creating a mental yes pile for yourself. It took you about ten minutes to try on every dress. Three yes and two no, it worked for you. Maybe he would find a normal store so you could have leggings; there was no way in hell you were wearing dresses the entire gig. You shimmied out of the last dress and tossed it over the door, and it disappeared, snatched down the moment it hit the door. Then you realized… no clothes were hanging there. Every piece you’d draped over was gone. You stood with your panties in bra with a dropped mouth. The awe was real; he got you. The sneaky man fucking left you helpless.

“Colson!”

“What’s up?” He asked innocently.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Oh, my clothes? They are in the car.”

“Oh my god! You asshole. Give me my clothes.” Your heart dropped as you heard his laughter, and then you joined him. “This is not how you fuck me again.”

“It is, however, how I get you to try this dress on for me.” He hung the black dress over the door. “Please?”

“Fine!”

“Thank you, Y/N. You are so difficult.”

“Mark my words, you sneaky little bastard.”

“Little?”

You snickered. “Big sneaky cocky bastard.”

“Better,” Colson said. “What words am I marking?”

“If you get this pussy… it won’t be today.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.” You took the dress from him and started to get dressed. He somehow guessed your size appropriately, and you didn’t even care; you were impressed. The dress felt as good as you imagined earlier. It fit you right, hitting a few inches above your knee, accentuated your ass, and making your breast pop. This was a club dress for sure, but here you were, walking out the dressing room with it. Colson awaited you in the front of the store, bags in his hand and a wicked smile on his face. “You like it?”

“Fucking love it.” He shook his head and pointed to the clerk. “She’s fine as fuck, right.”

The woman blushed and pulled her hair behind her ear. “It looks good on you!” She beamed.

“Don’t lie; she’s fine as hell.” He walked over to you, draping his long arm around your shoulders. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Road trip.” He took your hand in his and pushed the front door open to the store, and lead you out. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, I could eat too.” The edged sentence hit your pussy immediately, but he just kept walking to the car, ignoring the few people who recognized who he was and opened the door for you. They kept their distance, but the vultures were out and clicking their cameras.

Colson hopped into the car and pointed to your seatbelt. “Buckle up.”

“You're not worried about them?”

“Who?”

“The paparazzi”

“Oh, Nah, they got a job to do. Let them do it.” He shrugged.

“They’ll know about me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He merged into traffic and sighed. “They’ll know you’re my assistant tomorrow at the interview.”

“Right!” You exhaled. Small reality check, you swallowed and looked into the bag. “You have a busy tomorrow lined up, you know that?”

“I do; you do too.”

“Are you sure about having me as your assistant? I can go home; you don’t have to keep being nice to me because a groupie made it back to Cali with you.”

“Nah, you act like you don’t even like me.” He shot you a loo a sped the car up, “You got nothing to worry about, right?”

“That’s right.”

He got food for the both of you, but he didn’t head back to his place. Instead, you were outside of the city driving up the hills of California; you’d always wanted to come here, so you took in the scenery while mentally going over the schedule again for tomorrow. Colson's hand rested on your thigh, the calloused pads of his fingers stroked playfully up and down your legs. You liked the feeling. It had been a while since you’d felt some guitarist hands on your body. Apparently, he played it more than you gave him credit. He gripped you occasionally and dug into your flesh. Sensual act for someone who had a new girl every three days.

“You’re from Colorado,” He asked as the car slowed at the top of the hill. The plateau gave a good view of the city that thrived a few miles over.

“No, I’m actually from Texas, but I left when I was twenty. My parents were hella strict.” You peeked into the bag of food and grabbed one of his fries.

“Colorado served you well.”

“I just moved there, I went to New York, got a really good job, lost it, and then moved to Colorado with my mom and her new husband. I hate it.”

“Well, good you don’t live there anymore.” Colson parked the car, let his seat back, and took the bag from you.

“You say th-,” Your phone rang. Your mother’s face flashed before you, and you rolled your eyes. “Give me a moment.”

Parents were needed; you knew this, but your mother had criticisms, and if you knew Kara, she’d called your mom to tell her about the last few days. No, you had not answered her calls, and you didn’t intend to deal with it now, but if you knew your mother correctly, she was two seconds from declaring you are missing.

“Hello.” You answered the Facetime call, and your mother did not look impressed, just worried.

“Y/N.” She shook her head. “Where are you? Did you quit your job? Haven’t you been home in days? Are you okay?’

“I am fine.” You shook your head. “I have a new job now, and I will be home soon. I promise.”

“With that, whatever the fuck he is?” She stared at you.

Colson leaned in the frame, “Performer. Hey Miss Y/L/N.”

“I am married now; that’s not my name.” She cut daggers into him. “Walk away from him; I would like to talk to you alone.”

You sighed, “Be back.” You stepped out of the car and walked a few steps from him. You hoped he wouldn’t hear your mom act a complete ass on the line, but she was about to be loud. “Mom.”

“Don’t fucking mom me,” She hissed. “Don’t do this,” She paused. “Come home, now. Tell that tug to give you a ride, and maybe they’ll hire you back at the gas station.”

“You really think your daughter is only worthy of a gas station?” Colson appeared behind you.

“Give me a second.”

“Hang up on her.” He shrugged. “Conversation was over before it started; she didn’t give you a chance to explain anything. She just assumed you were out whoring?” He raised his brow at you. “Conversation was done five seconds ago; hang up.”

“Tell that boy to stay out of this,” She added.

“Mom, I got a job as his assistant.”

“A whore?”

“Okay,” You tried to block her assumption ut. “I will call you back later.”

“Yeah, away from him.” She ended the call.

“You know how to make shit worst!” You stared at him.

“Or better. Fuck her, fuck that little ass gas station. Fuck her calling you a whore.” Colson took your hand and spun you around once; the move resembled dancing. You felt like you were floating; he twirled you back to your chest.

“I didn’t know you were this sweet.” You said, looking up at him.

“I have my moments.” He admitted. He swayed with you. “They’re not as rare as people think.” Colson sighed and lifted you from the ground easily. Your feet dangled as he walked you back to the car and placed you on the hood. “I think this is going to be good for you, so don’t worry about the shit that’s going on back home; this is a good thing.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep meaning that shit too.” He stood in front of you and lifted your chin. “You really don’t remember that fucking kiss.”

“Which one,” You smiled.

“This one,” Colson’s lips met yours, and your breath disappeared as did the need to breathe, and you didn’t instantly remember, but the butterflies were familiar. He cradled your head to give him more access; his tongue dipped into your mouth and met yours. You moaned, tasting him, and fought the urge to wrap your arms around him and moving this along faster.

You pushed him back a little and took a quick breath. “It was that good?”

“Um, that was better.” His face turned a shade of red. “Fuck.”

You two met again, this time with no intention of stopping. Colson’s long fingers moved up the line of your thighs, pulling the soft fabric with it; you raised your ass from the hood of the car and unbuckled his belt. “What’re you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

“Make you forget who you are,” He whispered.

Were you going to fuck him on the hood of his car? Absolutely. You tugged at the seam of his boxers, tugging on the elastic, and he pulled them down enough for him to spring out from them. Eagerly you stroked him from hilt to tip, and he pushed you back on the hood of the car, fuck warming you up… you were wet enough. He gripped your thighs, pushing them open and running his fingers down the slit of your pussy before he slammed into you.

The sun had started to set, but if anyone wanted a show of you getting fucked they had it, legs open and back arched from the car. He suppressed a growl fucking you slowly. He took pleasure in watching your face contort each time his length went into you. “You’re perfect.”Colson’s tone dropped to a whisper, but that fucking whisper was enough. You wanted to sit up and ride the fuck out of him.

He hit deep, the curve of his cock hitting the right time you bucked against him, spasming, and he’d only been in yu a few minutes. “How many are you gonna give me today?” Colson asked.

“How many do you want?” You rested on your elbows and gave him a smile.

“Everything you fucking got.” He slid out of you and pulled you closer to him, kissing you before he turned you around and bent you over the car and slapped the round globes of your ass. Colson played for a second, slipping one finger into you and then another. You mewled, wiggling your ass against his war cock, coaxing him to slide into you. He played into it, rubbing the head of his cock across your entrance and then sliding back into you.

Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, and you were flushed, relishing his movements. He pushed into you, rounding his and pulling you back onto him. “Look at that pretty pussy.” He hovered over you. “How she’s fucking shaking for me; I think she remembers who daddy is… Let me see if I can make you.”

Was that a challenge? His hand traveled down your back to the line of your ass, and he pushed a finger into you while he continued to fuck you. His pace left you winded, but the feel of the pressure of him being in both had you elated. “Fu-,” You bit your tongue.

“Y/N.” He sung and then slammed into you once more. His finger curved, and you screamed. “Say it for me, call me daddy.”

“Daddy, don’t stop.” You all but sang, and Colson reacted accordingly, making his fingers move expertly to apply just enough pressure, and his cock hit just the right angle. Of course, you fell apart under him, but he didn’t stop, nor did you want him to. You could handle this if this is what he wanted from you.

The thought of him stopping hadn’t crossed his mind; he was too enchanted in watching your ass bounce on him and feeling the shockwaves of the orgasm flow through your pussy onto his cock.

The evening passed seamlessly; you had worked up an appetite, so you ate, talking about tomorrow, and he drove back to the house. The house was quieter than usual, TVs could be heard, but everyone had separated. “Get some sleep.” He said, opening the front door for you. “we got a busy ass day tomorrow.”

“Will do, good-,” Colson’s lips met yours once more. “Night.”

“Night.” He took the bags from you. “See you tomorrow.”

Your mind raced as you walked up the steps to your room. This was going to be more difficult than you intended, fuck blurred lines--- you could barely see straight.

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf @fangirl199812 @thatonegrl-1 @isyoongi @honestsycrets @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @cartoonlover101 @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @bowwowzer37 @fandomfic-galore @mayaslifeinabox @hangovercurse @szaplsdrop @heavenly1927 @mvrylee @canyoubuymetoast @littlelovebug98 @nightgirl250 @psychiccreationtaco @stupendoushairdocloudmuffin @aliendemigods @triplexdoublex @placeoffreedom @amorestevens @brightblaqkkheaven @pettyvxbes @pacmacs-macs @lostaurorax

#machine gun kelly #mgk x reader #mgk x black!reader #colson baker #colson baker x reader #colson baker x black reader #laketa j writes

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

do you write AUs?

because i wish you'd write a fic with magic 👀 either with both or only one of them having magic ❤️

Oh, dear sweet anon. You'd never guess it from what I've been posting, but AUs are my bread and butter, and fantasy my genre of choice. I just don't do as much of it because I care more about getting it right, and it's so much harder to convey in short glimpses.

So thank you for this, and here goes nothing! Might not be the type of magic you were thinking, but it’s where my brain ended up.

Milkovich Magic

When he's just a little boy, Mickey Milkovich is the chattiest kid on the street. He stands out front of their rundown house and waves at people passing by, tells them stories, wishes for them good things. His father hates it, but his mother thinks it's lovely. She sits next to Mickey in a broken lawn chair, taking turns smiling at her son and at the strangers and neighbors passing by, waving Terry away when he comes too close to interfering.

But she never says a word herself, unless it's to Mickey.

Until one day, when Mickey sees a family walking down the street, and waves frantically at two boys around his age, one with fuzzy brown curls, one with bright red locks. The bright boy turns toward him and smiles, and Mickey feels something shift inside himself.

"Momma," he calls back toward the house. "Did you see?"

"See what, Mikhailo?" she responds, voice oddly cautious in a way that Mickey has long since become accustomed to.

"That boy," he tells her, feeling light and happy. "He's going to be my friend."

The air shifts as the words leave his mouth, seeming to swirl around him. He shivers as it strokes against his skin, leaving a line of goosebumps in its wake, and takes a shaky breath, thinking of the boy's shy smile.

"Mikhailo, no!" his mother cries, stumbling from her seat to fall on her knees at his feet, clutching his arms with claw-like fingers. He snaps out of his thoughts and stares down at her, terrified, as the feeling leaves him.

His terror grows when his father slams open the front door and yells, "What did the boy do now?"

His mother's eyes are wide and scared on his face, but her voice is calm and firm when she answers.

"Mikhailo has done nothing," she states simply, and his skin begins to tingle again. "You noticed nothing," she adds, and Mickey watches as his father shakes his head and wanders back inside without so much as a backwards glance. Then the air is still again.

"Come, Mikhailo," his mother says next, "that's enough for today." And he follows her up the broken steps and into their home, mind whirring, trying to make sense of what happened.

“Words have power, little one,” his mother whispers to him later that night, as they sip hot chocolate in the kitchen after Terry goes to bed. The air smells of milk and burned sugar and his mother’s perfume, and her voice wraps around him like a hug, pressing her words into his skin.

“We have to be careful,” she speaks quietly. Her hand is still warm with the heat from her mug when she brushes his hair from his face, lets her palm rest on his cheek. “When the things you say become the truth, you have to choose your words wisely.”

“Like when I say you’re pretty?” Mickey asks with childish innocence, and his mother laughs, a soft tinkling sound like windchimes in the rain.

“Not quite,” she tells him with a gentle smile. “It takes intent, too.”

“Intent,” he repeats dutifully, then asks, “what’s that?”

His mother’s voice drops even further, serious and firm. “It’s the desire to make change, Mikhailo,” she says, “and it’s dangerous. You never know what path that change might take.” She sounds sad, like she does whenever his father comes home, loud and stumbling when he shoves through the door in the middle of the night. Mickey doesn’t like it.

And he doesn’t understand, either. He’s too young. Too new to the world to see how change could be a bad thing. So he agrees, like a good son does, and doesn’t argue when his mother presses a kiss to his head and sends him off to sleep in a haze of lavender and chocolate.

A few months later, when he hears his father yelling from the next room, hears the crash as his mother hits the floor for the third time that week, he dares to speak aloud the words struggling to escape his heart, despite her warnings.

“Mama is safe,” he whispers to himself in the darkness of the room he shares with his baby sister, who’s curled up against his side, face still wet with the tears that sent her into sleep. “No one can hurt her anymore.”

He knows he got it right when he can feel the wish leave him, a heavy weight lifting from his chest as his desires take form. He can feel the air, heavy with intent, as it brushes over his skin, as it moves like a summer breeze through the open window above his head, bypassing the locked bedroom door. He’s suddenly more tired than he thinks he’s ever been when it’s gone, and he falls into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in years, comforted by the knowledge that he had put change into the world.

The next morning, he wakes to his sister sobbing and pushing loose fists into his chest as she tells him that their mother is dead.

After that, he stops talking so much.

---

When Mickey is eight years old, he's the quietest boy in class. He gets a reputation as a troublemaker, refusing to answer questions or make friends, no matter the effort that others put in.

Eventually, they stop trying, and he's glad.

Until a new boy shows up, and almost ruins everything.

His name is Ian Gallagher, and the first thing Mickey notices as he walks into the room for the very first time, a worn backpack hanging from his skinny shoulder, is his hair.

It's bright red.

And Mickey remembers the day he learned what he was, the day he started down the path that killed his mother, the day that he declared to the world that the redheaded boy would be his and the world started to listen.

He wanted nothing to do with him.

So of course, Gallagher sat right behind him, and tapped on his shoulder, and asked him for a pencil. And try as he might, Mickey could not muster the intent to make him leave.

It probably wouldn't have mattered if he did, he thought. The damage had been done years ago.

But he does manage to speak. And he hears his own voice for the first time in ages outside the confines of the bedroom he still shares with Mandy. It's rough with disuse, lending an edge to his words that never used to be there.

"Ask me again, I'll stab you with it," he threatens, then stops, eyes blown wide and fearful by his own statement. But the rush of air never comes, nor that strange tingle, and all he can feel is the tickle of sweat sliding down the back of his neck.

He's so relieved he could cry.

"Are you ok?" the Gallagher boy asks, and Mickey tries to snarl, to make him back away.

"Shut up," he orders. And then he spins back around in his seat to hide his grin.

Because he can talk, after all, without causing terrible things. The trick, he knows now, is just not to mean it.

---

When Mickey is fifteen, he's loud and brash. He throws words around like they're meaningless, because to him, they are.

They have to be.

And it's working out fine, really. As long as he swallows down his feelings, keeps them locked up tight in his chest, it doesn't matter what words leave his lips.

Until, one day after school, he finally loses control.

And of course, it's because of Ian fucking Gallagher.

Because Ian keeps trying to be Mickey's friend, and Mickey knows it isn't real. He knows what he did. So when Ian joins his little league team in 4th grade, Mickey gets himself thrown out. And when Ian tries to partner with him for the 6th grade science fair, Mickey gets himself suspended instead. Every year is a new attempt, and every year, Mickey manages to shut it down.

He's ready to do it again on the first day of their sophomore year, when Ian calls his name outside the old brick school building.

"Hey, Mickey!" he tries, waving gangly arms to catch his attention. "Mickey, over here!"

Mickey studiously ignores him, like always, until he hears the smack of books hitting the ground.

"Whatcha callin' him for, eh?" comes a voice Mickey recognizes as one of his cousins. There's another rough sound, and a curse as Ian himself is pushed to the ground. Mickey's cousin laughs.

"What a pussy," he snickers. When Mickey turns around, his cousin waves him over with a wicked grin. "Ey, Mick, you know this guy?" he asks, not waiting for an answer before he nudges Ian in the side with a dirty boot. "He keeps callin' for ya, think he's got a crush or somethin'."

Ian's face is red, and his jaw is clenched, but he looks away when Mickey catches his eyes. He looks embarrassed, and maybe sad, and before Mickey knows what he's doing, he speaks from the place he always keeps under lock and key.

"You're gonna leave him alone," he rumbles, a breeze picking up behind him. "You're never gonna touch him again." A few leaves flutter at his feet as his intention builds. His cousin doesn't notice, but Ian does, and Mickey finds himself staring into emerald green eyes as he says, "You noticed nothing," just like his mother did all those years ago, and lets the words go.

His cousin blinks at him, suddenly lost, then down at Ian. "The fuck are you doing down there man?" he asks, and almost offers a hand before awkwardly pulling it back. "Eh, whatever," he mutters, and stumbles off to join the line for the bus.

"What was that?" Ian asks breathlessly, and Mickey shrugs, thumbing his nose. Inside, he's horrified by his slip, but all he says is, "nothing."

And scared or not of how it felt, that rush of cool air tingling against his skin as he spoke, he can't deny it felt good.

It feels even better when Ian smiles.

---

When Mickey is seventeen, he has a friend, and he thinks he might have to stop talking again.

Ian is around all the time, now. They sit together at school, and hang out at the Gallagher house on weekends. They go to movies, and baseball games, and tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

And deep down, Mickey knows what this is. He told the world that Ian would be his friend, and so he is. It's nothing more than that.

But when Ian starts talking about the guy he's seeing, starts blowing Mickey off to spend time with him instead, it still makes Mickey's heart hurt.

Somewhere along the line, between avoiding Ian and letting his life revolve around him, Mickey had started wanting more.

It's in those moments, sitting on the sofa with their thighs pressed together, the strawberry scent of Ian's shampoo lingering in the air around them as he waxes poetic about the restaurant his boyfriend took him to, when Mickey fights himself the most.

It would be so easy, he knows. So easy to open his mouth and let the words out. Ian, he could say, you love me. You want me. Leave him, Ian. Be with me instead.

He doesn't. He wouldn't. But he could, and knowing that kills him.

Instead, he starts pulling back. Cancels plans before Ian can. It hurts, but he does it, because Ian deserves to be free from the wish Mickey made when he was a child.

Ian notices, of course he does. He ignores it, mostly, until the night Mickey opens the door to find him standing there, sweaty and scowling.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks Mickey immediately. "Why are you shutting me out?"

Mickey swallows. "Don't know what you're talkin about," he lies, wishing desperately that it were true. He feels a zing of power go through him, but there's no escape for it; his words don't work on himself.

"Bullshit," Ian accuses, stepping over the threshold to bring them chest to chest. "Just tell me, Mick," he urges. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I can't," Mickey offers breathlessly. "I really can't, Ian."

It doesn't deter him; if anything, it makes him angrier. "What's gonna happen if you do, huh?" he challenges, shoving Mickey back until he hits the wall.

And Mickey can't take it anymore.

"I don't know!" he shouts, tearing at his hair. "I don't fucking know, Ian, ok? I've been trying not to say it for so long, I don't know what will happen if I do!"

It takes the wind out of Ian's sails; he visibly deflates. His eyes turn soft, instead of angry, and there's a quiver in his voice when he asks again. "Tell me what, Mickey?" he whispers.

Mickey won't say the words. Instead, he surges toward Ian and presses their mouths together in a rough, clumsy kiss.

It lasts only a moment before Ian pulls away, and Mickey tries not to die inside. Forces himself not to fix it. But a second later, there's a beaming grin on Ian's bruised lips, and he's saying, "is that all it was?" and leaning in again.

---

When Mickey is nineteen, he has a boyfriend, and he says what's in his heart.

They’re alone in the Gallagher house, a rare enough occurrence already, and they’re tangled together in Ian’s tiny single bed. “Ian,” he whispers when they part for breath. “Ian,” he moans as that mouth trails down his neck and behind his ear, pressing kisses in its wake. “Ian,” he cries out as he clenches fingers in bright red hair, holding on for dear life as they rock together.

“Fuck, I love you Mick,” Ian murmurs against his heated skin, and Mickey stops still.

It takes a minute for Ian to catch on, another for him to pull back, eyes questioning and nervous. “Is that okay?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Mickey licks his lips, and tries the words out himself, like a dare. “You love me,” he whispers, eyes locked on Ian’s own.

Nothing happens.

There’s no shift in the air around them, no new goosebumps beyond the ones Ian caused himself. There’s no weight in Mickey’s chest trying to get out.

There’s just Ian.

Ian, with his copper hair shining in the light from the window. Ian, surrounding him in the scent of strawberrie shampoo and sweat and cheap cologne from the corner store that he only wore when they were together. Ian, who was watching hi, waiting, biting his red bottom lip and trying not to move.

Mickey laughs, and pulls him closer, kissing him again, feeling Ian smile with relief against his lips. “You fucking love me,” he repeats, just because he can. The words can’t change something that’s already true. “I fucking love you too,” Mickey says.

And he does.

#daily speedwrite #<-still calling it tgat even though it took forever #because if it wasn't I'd completely redo it before sharing #gallavich #fanfic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fantasy au #fic request #i just got home I'm so tired😭#I hope it's vaguely coherent #tw:domestic abuse

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

Text

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins. “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims, finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend” and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something. Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.” She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

676 notes · View notes

calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

big boss.

1a/n: i don't always write smut driven plots, but when i do it's for daddy losa. set in s2 before the shit hit the fan. unedited might be some typos.

pairing: bishop losa x bratty!reader

warnings: 18+ rating: 💦

requested prompt: "What's wrong? I thought you liked teasing."

words: 2.4k

sum: bish has a sit down with the sons scheduled. it's the fifth night in a row that you've gone to bed without your husband. so you try your best to get him home early.

Bishop’s mind is split, torn into what feels like a million pieces. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice your arrival at the clubhouse.

You find him seated at the bar, fingers massaging his temple, his gaze fixated on his never-ending vibrating phone. For the majority of the day, you were responsible for the vibration.

He'd received a barrage of messages from you, all in response to the words he mumbled as he placed a kiss against your forehead this morning.

“I gonna be home late tonight. We’re sitting down at the table. You don’t have to wait up.”

Now, his phone is going off for club related matters.

“There’s my husband,” you smile as you sit his wrapped dinner on the bartop. Your lips press a kiss against his cheek as he reads an incoming message. “I almost forgot what he looks like. I brought your dinner.”

“Thanks,” he sighs.

“All these late nights,” you mumble against the warmth of his skin. “I had to check and make sure you weren’t meeting up with your girlfriend.”

Bishop's eyes roll, a chuckle leaving his lips. "Between you and the M.C., I wouldn't have the energy."

He doesn't object to your hands guiding his lips to yours. The kiss pushes the incoming messages out of his mind, his hands finding your waist. Guiding your body closer, he smiles as you leave a second kiss against his lips.

"I miss you."

The admission comes out soft against his lips. The kiss you leave behind this time tightens his grip, his lips chasing yours as you pull back.

"You too."

"Kinda hard to tell," you sigh, a smile finding your lips as Bishop presses a kiss against the warmth of your neck. "The only time I see you is over breakfast."

"Shit's been--"

"Crazy." You take a step back, slipping out of his grip. The dramatic roll of your eyes brings a smile to your husband's lips. "I know. So crazy, I can't even get in a quickie with my own husband."

Although he chuckles at your teasing, Bishop knows you're right. For the past week, he's gone before you can finish your morning coffee. Only to return when you're already asleep. It's not something he's proud of.

He's in the process of opening his mouth to apologize when you take a second step back.

Bishop’s brow arches, his eyes taking in your appearance--specifically the skirt you wear.

“You went shopping?”

Your eyes drop, your fingers flattening the fabric.

“I did, actually." You smile. You watch as his eyes travel the entire length of the grey pleats. "I stopped by the mall today. My husband hasn’t been around lately, so I had to find some way to keep myself busy.”

Shrugging off his jacket, you lay it across the bar. Taking a step back, you turn in a circle giving Bishop a full look at the mini skirt. By the time you come full circle you dawn a wide smile.

"I figured I try something new."

"It’s definitely...new."

"What?" You fix your lips into a pout as his gaze lifts. "You don’t like it? I was thinking of you when I got it."

Before your husband can string together another word, you turn to catch the eye of a passing Angel.

"What do you think, handsome?"

The question freezes the Mayan in his tracks.

The quest of finding another beer slipping through Angel's mind as he takes in your smile. "About what?"

"My new skirt."

Angel's mouth opens. Thankfully, his brain stalls as his gaze passes over the length of the skirt. His eyes linger on the length of your legs. The inability of his brain to string together a coherent sentence saving him from saying something stupid.

Heat rushes to his face as Angel clears his throat.

"I think you look nice, don't you Bish?" Angel manages as he reaches around you for a beer. His eyes avoid Bishop's as he grabs a second before quickly dismissing himself.

"Well," you smile. "At least somebody thinks I look nice."

"I don’t have time for this," Bishop admits knowing exactly where this will lead.

"What’s new?" you release a dramatic sigh as you step between his legs. "You never have time for me anymore."

"I have this meeting with the Sons--"

"Oh, is that today?" You ask, the heat of your touch seeping through the chest of his shirt. "I thought you said it was tomorrow night."

"Which is why I’d appreciate it if you put your jacket back on."

Although it doesn't drastically improve your appearance. The oversized jacket is enough to distract from the length--or lack thereof--of the skirt you wear.

"No."

It’s a word Bishop Losa rarely hears.

It’s also your favorite word to use against your husband.

“No?”

You shake your head, taking another step back putting a distance between the two of you.

"Then, wait for me at home where the entire club can't see your--"

“Nope,” you say allowing the end to pop, before turning on your heels. “I think I want to stay.”

You reach out, taking the cue stick from a passing Ezekiel.

“You have your meeting. I'll wait for you out here. I’ll just play some pool.” You smile as Bishop's jaw tightens. “Zeke here can keep me company. Right?"

The prospect's gaze lifts from the grey pleats of your skirt.

“Uh—yeah, I mean. I guess if that’s what you want—”

Ez clears his throat as he takes in your wide innocent smile. He glances in your husband's direction. The look in Bishop’s darkened gaze causes the prospect to quickly divert his eyes.

Ez's hand rubs against the back of his neck. “I mean, if it’s alright with Bishop--”

“He'll be fine. You don’t have to ask him for permission, Ez."

Ez quickly retrieves the second cue stick, suddenly focused on lining up a shot.

“Stop playing with the kid,” Bishop’s voice drops as he comes to a stop before you. “He’s my prospect, not your new toy.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand where this is headed.

Your husband is well versed in your antics, as you are his. The firm squeeze of your hip is a silent warning. A warning that reemphasizes his previous statement

I don’t have time for this.

Between the upcoming meeting, your pouts over breakfast, and round-the-clock sassy texts, his patience is wearing thin.

“Or what, Obispo?” You huff, your weight resting against your cue stick. “You’ll spank me?”

The taunt is enough to lift Bishop’s gaze from the tip of the cigarette he lights. His brow arches as he catches sight of your playful eyes. The unimpressed look on your face earns you the tiniest reaction, the twitching of his lips as he pushes the smoke from his lungs.

“Because if that’s all, let me bend over and make it easy for you,” you laugh as you turn.

Bishop takes a step back as you lean forward, bending over the pool table. The drawn-out act of lining up your shot gives an up-close view of just how short the skirt really is.

His double-take at your arrival was highly warranted.

You can feel the heat of his darkened gaze as it travels along the length of your legs, your new position dragging his tongue across his lips. His eyes pass over your shoulder to the opening door, signaling the early arriving Sons. Releasing a huff, you straighten before turning to face Bishop.

“Put your jacket back on,” he says.

“Is that what you're bringing to the table tonight? I expected a little more intimidation from el Presidente.” Your finger trails down the leather of his kutte, your touch lingering on the worn patch. “What will the boys think if you can’t even handle an old lady? Thought they said you were the big boss.”

For a brief second, the sight of you looking up at him through your lashes, push his arriving brothers out of Bishop's mind. His hand finds the base of your throat, his thumb tipping your chin back so that your gaze meets his.

The look you find weakens your knees. It’s what you’re looking for, the sight of it pulling your lips towards his. A pout settles on your lips as Bishop leaves them cold. Instead, he pauses to place a kiss against your forehead.

“Behave.”

There is one cardinal rule your husband expects you to follow when the doors to Templo are closed.

Do not interrupt--unless it is life or death.

This is why Bishop stops midsentence when the doors slide open.

Bishop wishes he could say he's surprised, but he's not when he glances away from Hank to find you standing in the doorway.

“I just figured the boys might want a drink after making the drive here.”

Ez stands behind you, a case of beer in his hands. His face is visible over your shoulder. He hopes the telepathic message sent to your husband is received.

I told her no--or, I tried to.

One moment Ez was shaking his head and chuckling, "I don't think it's a good idea, you know how Bish gets--" the next, he was carrying a case of beer into the lion's den for you.

“We are the hosts after all,” you smile, not waiting for your husband’s permission.

Ez distributes his beers as fast as he can. You take your time, your husband's eyes following you with each passing second.

By the time you’ve reached the head of the table, there is one drink left to distribute.

“And something special for the boss.”

His eyes study the sweet, innocent smile on your lips as you place the shot of whiskey down alongside the gavel.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

All of the men throw in a word of appreciation. A mixture of "thank you" and "appreciate it" filling the air as you cross the room. Not a single man is foolish enough to glance up from the beer in their hands until they hear the door slide shut.

Hank is the first to file out. He has a mixture of humor and pure admiration on his face as he meets your gaze. It is a look you’ve both grown accustomed to over the years. The one that comes each time he sees you are bold enough to push his best friend's buttons. Which is entirely too often.

“He wants to see you,” he shares, his head shaking as you pass.

You find your husband in the same spot you left him fifteen minutes prior. Seated at the head of the table. Only his whiskey is gone, and he’s got a freshly lit cigarette between his lips. His eyes lift from the zippo in his hand as you pull the door shut.

“I’ve been summoned?” Pushing your weight off the door, you start your journey around the table. Your finger traces over the wood, your gaze lifting to his. "I take it the meeting went well. It didn’t last long."

"Thought you'd sound a little more excited now that it's over."

"Only if you got what you wanted," you respond coming to a stop alongside him.

"You got something you wanna show me?” He asks, tossing his lighter onto the table.

"What makes you say that?"

Instead of answering your question, he nods to the table.

"Bend over."

Your head shakes as you take a seat on the table before him. Your palms rest against the table, your left foot settling on his armrest. A wave of heat covers you from head to toe as Bishop's gaze travels the length of your leg.

A smile finds your lips as his touch ghosts the curve of your calf.

The response is premature. Bishop takes a drag of his cigarette before repeating his previous demand.

"Bend over."

You heed his order, a smile finding your lips as the legs of his chair drag across the floor. The heat of his palm drags the length of your outer thigh, a smile finding his lips as he puts out his cigarette.

"Tell me," he asks, his touch drifting between your thighs. "What couldn't you wait, till I got home, to show me?"

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip as his thumb teasingly pass over the lace covering your clit.

"It's gotta be beautiful," he continues, his touch sending shockwaves through your body as he traces the pattern of the fabric. "The way you were trying to show it off in front of the whole fucking club."

"Why don't you see for yourself?" You breathe, your hips shifting to increase the pressure of his touch.

The red fabric brings a grin to your husband's lip. It is a color he can never resist when paired against your skin.

"Do you like it?"

Bishop doesn't rush to answer your question. Each roll of his thumb meticulous, as he unzips his jeans.

"I do," he places a soft kiss against your shoulder.

Your body tenses in anticipation as the head of his cock teases your slick folds. A soft whimper fills the air as he denies you what you want. Instead of pushing inside, he allows his tip to rub the length of your folds. He repeats the process until your mind has lost count, the trembling of your thighs arching his brow. As you shift your hips back, he pulls a grunt of frustration from your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he chuckles, his grip presses against your spine pinning you in place. "Hm? I thought you liked teasing...this isn't a reward, you don't get to pick how you get it. "

He slides into you in one fluid motion. Bishop's thrusts are not as sweet as your pet name. They are deliberate, pushing into you at a fast and harsh pace. His hips snap into you with a relentless force, his grip bruising your skin.

The edge of the table is the only anchor you're able to find as your body succumbs to the pleasure only he can bring. It doesn't take long for the muscles of your body to tense.

"You wanna cum, sweetheart?" he grunts, his words rasping with every thrust.

“Yes--fuck, Bish,” you manage. The words pass breathlessly, your mind struggling to string together a coherent plea. “Please--”

The pleas spilling from your lips are lost to a gasp as he pulls out of you.

“Since you’ve been trying to get me there all day,” he breathes. “You can wait till you get home.”

Your husband’s chuckle drowns out your whimpered protest. He catches your wrist as you attempt to finish where he’s left off, pinning it flat against the table.

“You don’t have time for that,” he assures you, the wave of pleasure he’s built already slowly beginning to ebb away. “You got something else you need to do first.”

He releases your wrist, his hands moving to pull your skirt back into place. The moment he’s finished, Bishop steps back allowing you to stand.

Turning to face him, you watch as he settles back into his chair. The smile on Bishop's lips morphs into a grin, his playful gaze watching you bite your lip. The desire to disobey his demand only seems to increase with each slowly passing second. The shifting of your weight pulls a chuckle from his lips.

“For making me cut my meeting short,” his head cocks to the side. His eyes pass over your heaving chest before he smiles. “I think that pretty mouth of yours owes me fifteen minutes.”

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

BORDERSZ (4)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook accompanies you on your journey to purchase a brand new car. jimin charms your pants off (or attempts to) and sora has a proposal for you that you don't quite say no to. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

It takes about two weeks for Jungkook to understand exactly what kind of car you were looking for- essentially a sturdy vehicle that would get you from point A to point B without fail. Something reliable, would last for years and years, something efficient. Not necessarily anything fancy or luxurious.

But Jungkook had finally got you to shyly confess that you wouldn’t mind having heated seats in your car. After all, it had been something you’d dreamed of ever since you had received your driver’s license-

“Nothing else? Just heated seats?” Jungkook implores curiously as he pours over your meticulous binder for the fifth time. Honestly, you didn’t really need his help. You already knew what you were doing. His presence at the dealership will probably ensure that you’re not getting scammed, if anything. He loves his friends (two of them being his roommates), but he knows the truth about how they make their sales.

Mei and Mina call them sleazy car salesmen for a reason after all.

“It’s not ‘just’ heated seats!” You protest, “We never had the money for cars with heated seats when I was growing up. So that’s what I want.”

“How about leather heated seats?” Jungkook suggests, “Leather seats have better ventilation-”

“Oh, I know,” You say matter-of-factly.

“Of course you do. Smart ass.”

It feels incredibly domestic, walking into Namjoon’s car dealership together with Jungkook. Shoulder to shoulder, hopping off of his motorcycle together. He had taken it upon himself to purchase a second helmet, despite your insistence that you would pay for one.

But he had told you not to get a big head, that the helmet wasn’t for you specifically. That he needed a second helmet anyway, and you joining him on the motorcycle more and more as of recently was just the impetus for him to purchase one.

So you say nothing when it’s clear that he had bought the helmet with you in mind- it’s a sleek, glossy lilac color. A similar shade of lilac as your phone case, your favorite small backpack, and your work notebook.

You say nothing about it, only keeping your small smile to yourself.

Of course it’s Jimin who immediately jumps up to offer you assistance today. He gives Jungkook a Cheshire grin, mischief dancing in his eyes. Not that you would know otherwise.

He knows Jimin won’t let him live this down. At least Taehyung might have a little more tact than Jimin.

“So are you both looking for a vehicle together?” Jimin asks once you’re both seated in the comfortable leather seats in front of his desk, when in fact he knows damn well that you’re not.

“Huh? N-no, I’m looking for a car. Jungkook is helping me out,” You say, your face heating up at the implication. Isn’t Jimin one of his roommates?

Jungkook’s tongue pokes his cheek. You notice.

“I’m here to make sure that you or Taehyung don’t scam her,” Jungkook says, “Where’s Joon? He’s less...annoying than you.”

“Joon can’t even drive a fucking car. He has no business trying to sell them,” Jimin says swiftly.

“Er,” You interrupt softly, “Isn’t he your boss? He owns the entire dealership, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook stifles a laugh at your presumed innocence. You offer a slick smile to Jimin when he scoffs in amusement.

“Yes,” Jimin says, “So tell me. How can I make your dreams come true?”

If Jungkook wasn’t with you, you think you would’ve fallen victim to Jimin’s charms long ago. He’s nice, a little flirty and funny. But helpful. You can see how someone might end up paying more than they’d need to with Jimin being their car salesman.

You listen to every word Jimin says, taking notes in a specific section of your binder with your favorite black ballpoint pen. You need to have all the information at your fingertips before making a big decision, no matter what it is. Jungkook had teased you for it at first, but he’s become accustomed to your thought process.

Jimin has shown you at least five different types of models of cars ranging from sedans to SUVs. In theory, they all fit the bill. But you haven’t really felt the connection with any of them.

Jimin is nothing if not patient, though.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I know I’m being meticulous. You must be annoyed.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” Jimin shrugs, “Besides, you can repay me with your phone number maybe, huh?”

“That doesn’t sound like an ethical business practice,” You say flatly while Jungkook glares at Jimin (who only smirks at him in return), “You already have it. From when I made the appointment.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“You wish,” You roll your eyes, “Does every one of your clients get this treatment or is it just me?”

“Nah, it’s just anyone who catches Jungkookie’s eye,” Jimin winks at you and Jungkook is about to strangle his roommate. Perhaps he should put an ad out for a new roommate, considering he might kill his current one in the next five minutes.

“O-oh,” You falter, cheeks blazing at this point, “Can we look at a few more? I’m gonna use the restroom really quickly. Maybe even grab a coffee.”

“Sure, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Will you fuckin’ stop it? I can’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses, “We’re literally at your workplace and you’re putting the moves on her-”

“Oh, will you relax,” Jimin says breezily, “I’m just seeing if she’ll take the bait.”

“There’s no reason for that shit,” Jungkook says, glaring at his friend, “Cut it out.”

“I like her,” Jimin says, as if he hadn’t spoken, “She’s cute.”

“Back off,” Jungkook says, “And while we’re at it, just for you being an ass. You’re gonna give her heated seats for free.”

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the car that Jimin is currently telling you about. He can already tell from your wide eyes and soft, excited smile that this is the one. You’re already running the checklist through your head, physically looking at your notes as Jimin easily answers your questions.

“Can I take her for a test drive?” You ask Jimin and he somehow produces a set of keys for the exact model from his pocket.

“I knew this would be the one…” Jimin says as he takes you to the parking lot to grab the test car. Jungkook rolls his eyes in fondness and heads off to find his other roommate, Taehyung. And to say hello to his friend, Namjoon.

“It suits you,” Jimin says once you’d taken the car out for a drive and brought it back safely.

“You think so?” You ask, giving the keys back to him, “I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Only when I mean it, sweetheart,” Jimin winks at you.

“How lucky for me,” You mutter under your breath, “So...what are the next steps?”

“I bring out the contract, you sign it, and you take your new car home,” Jimin says confidently.

“Yeah,” You say dreamily and look outside to the car in longing. You’ve done the homework, done the research. Went through this logically and meticulously. Even if the car does start depreciating the minute you step out of the dealership… You want it. It checks all of the boxes, you know you’ll get your money’s worth from it.

But before you give Jimin the okay to draw up the contracts, you want to tell Jungkook. You spot him talking to Taehyung, his bunny smile on display (which makes you smile in turn) and excuse yourself from Jimin for a minute to go after Jungkook.

“Hi,” You say and introduce yourself to Taehyung, who offers you a wide, boxy smile, “I’m gonna get it. The car, I mean. I love her.”

“She passed the vibe check?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah. She passed the vibe check.”

When you comb through the hefty contract with sharp eyes, Jungkook is somewhat amused to see the free of charge cost for the heated seats. Jimin only winks at him in response.

You can’t seem to find anywhere else where Jimin may be overcharging you, so you ask Jungkook to review it, too. And surprisingly, Jungkook finds nothing out of the ordinary. He knows how Jimin operates here, trying to gain any extra cent of commission that he can. Not that that’s a terrible thing.

“It’s yours, sweetheart,” Jimin says fifteen minutes later, once you sign your name on the dotted line.

“Really?” You let out an exhilarated laugh, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins, “Really, really?”

“Keys are yours, and someone will bring the car out front for you,” Jimin smiles, “Congratulations on your first car. I’m honored that you chose me to help you make this purchase.”

“Wouldn’t have had it any other way, Jimin,” You beam. After a moment of deliberation, “Oh, by the way- have fun on your date with Mina tonight. I heard all about it.”

Mischief dances in your eyes and Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a surprised laugh. Jungkook looks at you proudly- that’s what Jimin gets for being a menace.

Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks you out of the dealership and you slowly wrap a tentative, shy arm around his waist. You both wait shoulder to shoulder for one of the dealership boys to bring your brand new car out front.

In the meantime, you try to pluck up the courage to ask Jungkook to have a drink with you after. To celebrate and to treat your friend for helping you out for the last few weeks. You bite your bottom lip in nervousness and Jungkook notices. He wants nothing more than to gently pull your bottom lip out of your own grip, but refrains from doing so.

But you realize, it’s Jungkook, this is your friend and the comforting, warm scent of laundry that envelopes you gives you a little courage.

“Do you want to grab a drink or something after this?” You ask softly, “I… wanted to treat you. For helping me the last few weeks with the car stuff.”

“C’mon, baby. You know I’ll never say no to a pretty girl buying me a drink,” Jungkook says, lips pulled apart into a sly smirk.

“Oh, that’s all I am to you? A pretty girl?” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully, despite the heat in your cheeks.

“Not at all,” Jungkook murmurs, tightening his hold around your shoulders and looking at you with sincerity dripping from his big, brown eyes, “You’re my pretty girl.”

If he didn’t have a strong arm around your shoulders, you’re certain you would’ve evaporated into the floor at his words.

The image of Jungkook smoking outside of the bar right under the glowing, purple neon lights is an image you haven’t seen very often. A strand of dark hair falls in front of his face as he lights his cigarette, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Even from this distance, you can see the purse of his lips and the silver glint of rings on his fingers. It shouldn’t send a rush down your spine the way it does, but you won’t deny it. When it comes to Jungkook, you won’t deny your feelings. Or your attraction.

For some reason, a thought crosses your mind- you hadn’t told Sora that you had purchased a new car. Much less that Jungkook had helped you pick one out. But you push her from your mind easily, as if you’ve been doing the last few weeks. It’s been difficult for you to keep Jungkook out of your conversations with Sora- she always has a way of bringing him up more than not.

But it’s not just Jungkook she has a strong, stubborn opinion on. It’s everything these days- you had showed her cars that you were interested in and she had shot every one of them down, she always has something to say about your passion for work (or rather she never pays enough attention about it), and she even had something negative to say when you had timidly brought up that you were maybe thinking about another ear piercing.

You’re growing tired of it. You find yourself getting nervous around her, like you’re walking on eggshells around her. Even when she just texts you, your heart speeds up in anxiety. But at the same time, there is a voice in your head telling you not to upset her.

As if that’s somehow the worst thing that could ever happen. Objectively, you know Sora. You know she’s stubborn and loud in her opinions and always has to get her way. But at the core of it all, you want to believe that she has a good heart. Because if she doesn’t have a good heart… Then what were you doing this to yourself for? What were you surrounding yourself with all of this negativity for?

You can sense Jungkook’s dislike of her, even if he doesn’t outright say it. But you’re no idiot. Mina and Mei have been honest with you on their opinions of her. So has Yoongi and Hobi.

They all think she’s dragging you down and that you’ll spiral in her negativity if you don’t open your eyes. They’ve all had a few choice words for her, but you find yourself uneasy whenever the topic of Sora comes up.

The more you hear it, the more you wonder about your supposed best friend. But you push those sour thoughts away to focus on the man in your field of vision.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach him on unsteady feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jungkook mutters with the cigarette in between his lips when you get closer to get a good look at him.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” You reply, eyes subconsciously wandering to the cigarette. Your nose scrunches at the smell without you even realizing it.

“You look like my mom when she first saw me smoking,” Jungkook says bluntly.

“Your mom? You really wanna compare me to your mother?” You raise an eyebrow, “Don’t know what that says about you, Jungkook.” Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh at that.

“Shut up,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and peels himself off of the brick wall before putting his cigarette out and tossing it in the ashtray next to him, “I think you owe me a drink?”

Jungkook, you decide, is dangerous and warm all at once. The starry glint of his big, doe eyes throws you off more than once, leaving you either stammering over your words or choking on your drink when you try to reply to him.

The bar is quiet and nearly empty, only the sounds of faint music playing in the background to keep you both company. You’re both facing each other at the bar, knees touching ever so slightly.

Even that simple touch makes you feel warm all over.

Jungkook slides your drink towards you, a soft ‘thank you’ pushing itself out of your lips. You suppress a shiver when his ring clad fingers brush over yours, and he notices the way you tense up a little bit with his touch.

He appreciates the way the dim lights shine on your hair and illuminate the planes of your pretty face. He thinks it’s the perfect lighting for a photo of you- the dark colored jacket and your dark wash jeans blending into the colors of the bar around you. Something at the base of your neck glints as you turn to face him.

“Cheers, to your new car,” Jungkook murmurs, tipping his glass towards yours.

“Cheers to you for helping me,” You reply with a smile, clinking your drink with his.

“Pleasure’s all mine, baby,” Jungkook says, “You deserve it.”

“Deserve a vehicle that will have hardly any value in ten to fifteen years?”

“You deserve something for yourself,” Jungkook corrects, looking into your eyes as if he can see right through you. You’d told him how you had grown up with one car amongst a family of five, and how money was tight when you were younger. You were the eldest of three, and now that everyone was older, you had slowly started dipping your toes into the concept of having things for yourself.

You whisper a soft thank you and take a sip of your drink. “My parents were so excited about the car,” You say quietly, “Told them I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh? You told your parents about me?”

“Had to tell them about the man who got me heated seats for free,” You reply with a knowing grin, “You think I didn’t catch that?”

“Heated seats were the least Jimin could’ve done,” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

You wave him off, “I like him. I could see why him and Mina are good together. She told me they’ve had this weird on and off thing for, like, a year now? Like c’mon. Get it together.”

“Yeah. Don’t know why they keep denying the inevitable,” He says, voice full of something barely concealed.

“The inevitable?”

“They both have their issues but… They would make it work if they sorted themselves out,” He says softly, a tenderness to his eyes that makes your belly flip. You don’t know if he’s talking about Jimin and Mina or about… something else.

Something else being you and him.

“Maybe one of them is scared,” You whisper.

“They can work through it together,” Jungkook replies instantly. The air in between you both is charged, plush with tension and electricity. You look at him unsurely, with wide eyes, and god, if Jungkook doesn’t want to sweep you off of your feet and pull you in for a kiss.

“Jungkook, I-” You murmur, voice soft and deafening, silky like honey in his ears. The moment is right there, ripe for you, ripe for him...

And then your phone starts ringing, and Jungkook has never heard a worse sound. Your chest drops for a second when you see that it’s Sora calling you, and Jungkook has never felt as frustrated as he does right in this moment. Each significant moment of frustration over the past few months has Sora linked to it. He wonders if she has a radar for interrupting at the worst possible moments.

You give him an apologetic glance before answering the phone. She only calls if it’s important or if she needs you so you won’t risk it.

“H-hello-”

“You’ll never guess what I just did,” Comes Sora’s excited voice through the receiver. It’s too sugary, too sweet. You wince.

“What’s that?” You mumble, shoulders drooping.

“Got you a date for this Friday, you remember Yunho right?” She exclaims. If your heart wasn’t on the floor already, it certainly was by now. “He wants to take you out- he’s the lawyer, remember?”

“Y-yeah, I remember,” You say weakly, “But-”

Jungkook’s eyes flash at your suddenly dejected frown. That’s what Sora does- she takes you and she turns your happiness into something sad. It’s like she can’t stand to see you happy about something that doesn’t align with her “vision”.

“You can thank me later, babe,” Sora says cheerily. This time, you visibly cringe as you try to protest. Try to tell her that you don’t want a date with this man, that you only want a date with the man in front of you. But you can’t get the words out, she won’t listen and she hangs up on you before you can get a word in edgewise.

“Sorry about that,” You mutter.

“Why? She’s your friend. Not mine,” Jungkook says brusquely and you bristle at his bluntness.

You’re distracted for the rest of the evening, mind on another wavelength. He knows you’re upset, but he doesn’t push. He gets you to smile and laugh a few times, only for your eyes to turn sad right after.

Jungkook only wishes that you’d be able to see what was right in front of you.

TAGS: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you

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aaronhotchnersquarterzip · 3 years

Text

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

So I’ve decided I’m gonna start posting the finished fic on here. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do :)

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn't expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

The Diner

I quite literally had nothing to do. I swear the couch had an indent from where I had sat for, minimum, the past week. There were three months before the new semester started and I was nonstop scouring for a part-time job in the area. Whilst all my friends partied the summer away I was stuck in my parents house so I could at least live three months rent free. As I was approaching my senior year at Cornell, I carried an impressive amount of student loans to my name. I worked several jobs to keep myself afloat during the year but for some reason I had no luck the past few months. With a sigh I closed my laptop for the third time that evening and decided to go for a late night drive. My tiny Subaru sped through the Virginia freeways until I ended up on the edge of D.C.

This wasn’t the first time I drove into the city at such a random time, 2:54 to be exact. There was a 24 hour diner just outside the city that I frequented on nights like these, I guess subconsciously I wanted a milkshake and some fries. Sure, McDonalds would've been more convenient, smarter too, but where's the fun in that? I sat down in a booth facing the entrance so I could have a clear view of my surroundings. Something my former Marine father instilled in me at a young age, never have your back to the enemy. Nobody had ever bothered you before at the diner so you weren't on high alert when the bell rang, signaling someone had walked in. It was only when you heard his voice did you acknowledge his presence. He was talking to the waitress about what she recommended at the time like this, going on about how he wanted something sweet.

“The chocolate milkshake does me wonders at 3 am,” you yelled over with a smile. One he returned.

“One chocolate milkshake then please.” After ordering he promptly stood up and walked over to your booth. “Would you mind if I sat?”

You thought for a few moments. He didn’t look like a threat, hell, what serial killer orders a milkshake at 3:15 in the morning on a Wednesday. It was best not to think about statistics actually, this would be a pretty good ploy. As if he sensed your hesitancy, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his badge.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner, I don’t want to intrude but it's hard to avoid the presence of such a beautiful woman so close to me.” Damn, well now I had to let him sit with me.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Agent,” you smirked while gesturing for him to take the seat across from you. “I’m Y/N Y/L.”

The waitress appeared moments later with his milkshake and smiled at the both of you before walking back into the kitchen.

Taking a sip on his milkshake he smiled up at you, “thank you for the suggestion Y/N. Now what brings you into a diner this early in the morning? You can’t be much older than a junior in college.”

“Sometimes you just need a break from reality. I could ask you the same question, Agent but I don’t think you’ll give me a clear answer either.” He raised his eyebrows at your remark, testing you. “Unless I pegged you wrong Agent, so tell me, what are you doing here?”

“I certainly like the break from reality answer, but you’re right there's always something more. I just got back from a case and my son was already asleep at his aunt's house, I figured I could use the distraction. An empty house isn’t the most comforting.” You nodded along, knowing all too well the feeling of being alone. When you weren't at home you were normally holed up in the campus library or in your apartment. Your roommate during the semester was nice and all but you both had your own lives, mainly she had one.

“Trying to find a job that will utilize my education is draining, I needed a break from the constant rejection. A real mood killer.”

“What do you study and where?” When you entered this conversation you did not expect some real interest. This was beginning to feel like the small talk part of a first date, something you’re way too accustomed to lately.

“Cornell studying economics.” You slowly sipped on your straw and pushed your fries toward the center of the table to share with Aaron. “I want to work for HUD, although that's nothing compared to the FBI Agent Hotchner.” You smirked and winked at the man.

“It’s certainly not unimpressive though, you should be proud, honestly. The FBI isn’t all it's cracked up to be, it has its moments but I feel satisfaction from what I do. That's what matters in the end isn’t it?”

“I was a federal prosecutor before I joined the FBI, being able to stop criminals in the act grants me more satisfaction than reading their case files and presenting it in front of a jury. I feel like I do more good this way.”

Never in a million years did you think this was what you were going to walk into when you got in your car hours prior. How in the world did this seemingly kind hearted man, and not unattractive as well, walk up to you of all people. You stared in awe as he drank his milkshake. I guess you were staring far too long because all of a sudden his voice boomed in your ears again.

“You still here? I know I can be pretty boring.” He smirked and snapped his fingers in front of your face making your cheeks tint a shade of red. “Yeah yeah of course I am. Sorry about that, I guess the time is starting to get to me.” You chuckled slightly and shifted under his soft gaze. “You aren’t boring Aaron, in fact you’re the opposite. I haven’t talked to anyone so passionate about what they do. It’s - It’s inspiring, really.” Your body reacted on impulse and reached across the table for his free hand, holding it over the table.

Both of you seemed just as shocked at your actions, making you quickly let go and cough to try and ease the awkwardness in the air. Luckily, the waitress came by with both of your checks at the exact right time. Before you could reach into your wallet Aaron had already placed his card out and handed the waitress both of your bills.

“Aaron, I am capable of paying for my own food.” You still smiled at the sentiment.

“I am well aware that you are capable, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to thank you for your company.” He swiftly grabbed your hand in the same fashion you had earlier, except this time you didn’t pull away.

“There were other ways to thank me, Agent.” Summoning all of your confidence, you reached for his phone and quickly typed your name and number into it. “Don’t be afraid to use it, Agent. I’ll be waiting.” And with that, you winked and walked out of the diner without a glance back.

And man, were you hoping he would use it soon.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x you #fluff

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saphirered · 3 years

Text

The Lovers

Spoilers for Campaign 2 Ep141

Man oh man oh man. I've had this one written since the day after the last episode but I've been soooooo hesitant to post it at all 🙈. Anyway... I'm just gonna regardless because it's just sitting there staring at me to either delete or post it 🤭. I hope you enjoy because I'm still so conflicted about his piece of writing 😅. Unless people actually like it I might just end up deleting it after all.

---

Jester had asked you to come along on another journey of the Nein Heroez. She needed your expertise for something but couldn’t get across what for within the twenty-five word limit. Regardless, the opportunity to see and travel with your friends is not one you’re just going to pass on so of course you happily made your way to Nicodranas. Maybe the ocean would do you some good. It’s been a while after all.

In the first few days of your journey Jester had been keeping a close eye on you, watching your responses and reactions. Specifically your reactions to any and all interactions with a certain lavender tiefling. When she was certain your responses to the tiefling in question were not in any way negative and cordial if not friendly you found yourself being paired with him more often than not. Watch, hoisting the sails or dropping them, food shifts and even at the helm a few times.

You caught an argument between Fjord and Jester a few weeks later. Fjord was defending you and telling Jester she couldn’t just play matchmaker after everything that had happened between the previous inhabiter of Kingsley’s body and you and how it might still be a painful subject of not once but twice being faced with someone that’s not the person you loved and lost.

Jester seeing reason in Fjord’s arguments put aside the love story she’d been trying to unfold with you and the poor tiefling as her main characters. The shifts you shared with Kingsley came to a close and would be no more often than any shifts shared with anyone else on the crew.

One day the Nein Heroez made port to stock up on some supplies after being hit by a storm and running short on food. The crew was given some downtime to enjoy the many pleasures port has to offer but you decided to stay back at the ship. You asked Jester for the cards.

You’re sitting crosslegged on the docks watching the sunset as the crew leaves in groups bidding you goodbye while they go. Once the majority of them have left you take out the cards and begin laying them in certain patterns starting with simple ‘yes/no’s onto the past present future and more complicated readings. You’re not paying attention to any particular results but instead study the drawings fondly.

“You’d call me a sentimental fool.” You snicker as the fool card is revealed in front of you.

“Sentimental? Yes. A fool? I’ve yet to decide.” You turn around at the familiar voice seeing the tails of the black sleeveless coat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing around. You pick up the cards and put them back in their order stacking them.

“Oh really? You’d think a few weeks of being not so inconspicuously paired together on any task possible would give you enough time to form an opinion on that?” You tease beginning a new read.

“Maybe that makes me the fool then.” You can almost hear the smirk in his words.

“Care to find out?” You put down card by card face down. You know how to push for certain results. A trick you’d picked up from your former lover. It feels right to use it against him in a strange twisted way like this. Not really him but close enough.

Kingsley sits down to the side, not trusting you to not push him off the docks if he were to make an offensive (in jest of course) remark. Gathering the cards back up you start over. Time for a bit of fun. You push for the first card setting it down face up in front of him.

“The owl and the bear. Some might say the most deadly combination when put together. Be watchful of the owl’s words or you might find yourself at the ends of the bear’s claws.”

“So it was a good idea to sit on this side and avoid meeting my waterlogged demise.”

“Are you doubting my capabilities, Kingsley?” You smirk and watch the tiefling gulp. You move on to the next card making a show of pulling it from the deck and displaying it.

“Look at that! What did I say. The fool has appeared. The cards have spoken. my fool.” You take a bow as if addressing the most pretentious royalty around limited only by your crosslegged position on the docks. Kingsley can’t help but let out a chuckle at your theatrics.

“The cards have spoken indeed! A fool I must be.” He plays along. You begin picking up the two cards and restack the deck.

“Hey hey hey, isn’t there supposed to be three cards for this one? Not two?” You stop. He’s not wrong technically. You raise an eyebrow at him, fan out the cards and allow him to pull one from the deck as per the variant of this reading, putting the fate in the hands of the drawer. Not really of course. Usually you’d still be able to push for a card for them to draw but for this one you’d leave it up to the divines. You’ve had your fun.

And fun it was until Kingsley kept the card for himself, studying it closely. You were curious to see which one he pulled but you hadn’t exactly paid attention to that like you’d otherwise done. You wait for him to either give it back or tell you what it is but he takes a long time.

“So what is it?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. It still takes a good few seconds before he lowers the card so you can see it too.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to vocalise upon seeing the card. The Lovers. The familiar drawing of a lavender tiefling looking at another figure arm outstretched and love in their eyes. The image of the tiefling reaches for the outstretched hand of the other figure; your figure. You’re staring back at your own face and the expression Mollymauk had claimed to have plenty of visual references for to know he could properly draw you but would always ask for one more just to remind him.

“I’m so sorry.” Kingsley hands the card back to you and you keep staring at it. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re alright as you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Once he’s sure you’re alright he begins to get up.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Someone’s gotta make sure these fools drink just enough and start a brawl or two.” You snap out of it putting the card back into the deck.

“Kingsley. It’s alright. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” The whirlwind subsides and you return back to a peaceful state of mind. You offer the tiefling a kind smile and he halts himself sitting back down still somewhat tense. He opens his mouth to say something but is quick to close it again. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you as you shuffle the cards absentmindedly. You catch onto the conflict and hesitation in Kingsley’s features.

“If there’s something you wish to say please do say it.”

“When you said you loved him… I think it never registered it was anything other than the love the others held for him. Strongly yes but I always assumed it was akin to Yasha’s. Why didn’t you say anything?” Kingsley states piecing things together watching you closely.

“It’s not a burden for you to bear.” You pull the Lovers card back up to the top and study it closely.

“I might not know much but I don’t think being faced with your dead lover’s body inhabited by someone not him doesn’t bother anyone. That’s just cruel.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore. I’ve grieved Molly when he died. I grieved him again when Lucien returned. I’ve gone through it all and accepted he’s not coming back and that’s okay. Everything comes to an end at some point. I don’t think it’s cruelty. I think everything is as it should be.” You speak honestly stroking your thumb over the card.

“I have so many questions.” Kingsley states. You get it. He woke up one day, recovering from death not knowing who he is or was before that moment beyond emotions and flashes of a past that didn’t feel like his. That’s exactly why you wanted to spare him another previous relation to figure out. Yes it might make things slightly more difficult for you but that’s not his fault. That’s no one’s fault.

“And I believe Beau gave you her notebook so you can read back about your predecessors. But you’re not ready for that yet, are you? That’s okay. Don’t read it until you feel ready.” Kingsley’s head shoots up to look at you. Why do you understand him? Maybe you’re wiser than he gives you credit for but he thinks you’re already pretty wise.

“Expectations. Everyone expected something of me but I didn’t live up to it. I’m not who he used to be and that disappoints people. But from you, you never expected anything from me. Why?” He’s piecing it together bit by bit. You never slipped up. Never asked him to put on a coat that wasn’t his or asked him if he remembered something. You never even asked him if he recalled anything about you or sought to involve yourself in his life without his permission.

“It’s unfair to expect someone to be or become someone they’re not and never will be. You get to be your own person free of the constraints of the past.” The answer is simple. There’s no deceit or doubt. No hidden message or intent behind it.

“How is it you of all people can say that without pain or regret or wishing it were different?” You turn the card back around and put it back in the deck in its place and put the cards away. You take a second before answering trying to formulate a proper answer as Kingsley waits studying every micro expression.

“Bear with me for this one.” You start and he nods. “Lucien was born lonely forced to fend for himself and make friends out of the need to survive. Molly rose from a grave alone and scared. He was taken in by friends but he had to find a home his home with them. He found that home and got kindness and love. You awoke surrounded by friends, no family you didn’t even know but would still love you regardless. No matter what, you’d always have a home with them. You’d be neither alone nor lonely unless you choose to be.” You explain and take breath before you continue.

“You plant random seeds in the ground it’s very unlikely you’re going to receive the same flower twice. The only similarity they have is that they are seeds and will grow as long as they have the right foundations to do so. When I look upon you I see Kingsley Tealeaf, a man that became a sailor after we brought him back from the Astral Sea. There may be similarities, your roots may even be the same but you are not the same. You are separate.”

Kingsley takes in your words very carefully with a sense of understanding and something with in him he couldn't quite pinpoint until now. Acceptance and content. Whatever might have been holding him back before, he’ll have to come to terms with that. That’s the past and if the past comes searching for him one day, so be it. Until then, Kingsley Tealeaf has a life of his own to live and to enjoy. Enjoy all life has to offer, to its fullest and don’t hold back.

Let the sailor become captain of his own ship knowing he has a home and a family that will welcome him with open arms to return to. Let the eight be nine despite the expectations of others. Be free and be happy. Live content.

#critical role spoilers #critical role #critrole x reader #critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #kingsley tealeaf #kingsley x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Cry Little Sister

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, verbal threats, gaslighting, both reader and Peter are high school students, kinda slight incestuous undertones (the characters aren't related, though).

Words: 2214.

Summary: Your adopted older brother is not as nice as he seems, but no one is willing to believe you.

P.S. And yep, I used one of my favourite citations from Grishaverse in the end of this story. Hope you enjoy!

__________

"Peter, sweetheart, I knew you'd make it!" Your mother had clasped her hands together while your father patted Peter's shoulder. "The best test results in the whole class! My goodness, we need to celebrate it!"

You smiled at them tiredly, seeing the faces of your parents practically glowing. True, Peter was a damn smart guy. You had never achieved such high results despite all those nights you spent studying, while he didn't care much about it at all, it seemed. You hadn't seen him with a book yet.

"I'm gonna bake an apple pie for you." A smile of your mother made you feel bitter, and you averted your eyes, missing an odd look your older adopted brother sent you.

Half a year ago he finally came to live with your family once your parents finished gathering all the papers and waited for almost a year to receive "the call". You remembered how you had jumped happily in the living room along with your mom, believing it was finally over. Well, maybe it was over for Peter, but for you it was only a beginning. You could hardly imagine the sweet skinny guy who you considered very shy and bashful would change so drastically.

It started very subtle. First, Peter was trying to be helpful, assisting you when you did the housework - he was actually way better at cooking and cleaning than you and easily got praised by your mom. You were truly thankful to him for his help, especially since it was easier to get to know him while working together. It was then when you first spotted the odd looks he was sending you when he thought you didn't see. There was something... uneasy lingering in his gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but sometimes Peter made you shiver with the way he spoke or touched you discreetly. It was strange. Of course, the boy didn't do or tell you something that would make you worried, but you just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. You blamed it on the fact you couldn't get accustomed to a new life with an adopted brother yet. Surely, it wasn't supposed to be easy?

But the more you spent time together, the stronger that feeling got. Despite Peter becoming a part of your family as easily as if he had always been your parents' son, you were wary of his sudden urges to touch you and always keep you in his sight. At first you thought he was just touch starved and needed human warmth. Maybe for Peter it was just easier to come to you rather than your parents since you were almost the same age as him. But then... one day you saw him going through your things and taking one of your lipsticks from your makeup bag. You suddenly remembered losing a lip gloss two weeks ago.

Trying to voice your concerns, you talked to your mom who was so insensitive she went to speak with Peter right away. Of course, he said it wasn't true and you had probably misunderstood him since he only wanted to borrow a pen. He even showed his table and wardrobe to demonstrate he didn't hide anything.

From that time Peter had changed. He didn't hide his unhealthy behavior from you anymore, and he was scaring you with the things he had done, keeping an eye on you when you were around and stalking you if you were not, never staying far away aside from the time he had to be in class.

Of course, he sensed that you were becoming resteless, less and less eager to spend time with him, blaming it on lots of homework or sudden meetings with friends. You weren't blind to his frightening affection - if you could call his feelings like that. Why was he doing it? Despite spending only several months living with you, your parents loved him dearly, paying him twice more attention than you. You had never protested against it, knowing a poor soul like him who didn't have his own family needed all the help he could get now. But this... this wasn't alright. This wasn't a feeling siblings should have for each other. Did Peter consider you one? Did you truly consider him your older brother? You weren't sure. Nevertheless, it still didn't feel right.

Carefully, you attempted to talk to your father about it, vagualy wording your concerns and giving him little details - sure, you didn't like how Peter was behaving, but he didn't deserve to be banished from your family and sent back. You still believed something could be done to set everything right. Maybe the boy just didn't realize things were not supposed to work this way in a family. However, your father laughed it all off. He said little girls like you were thinking too much of themselves lately, claiming the whole world was obsessed with them. Peter simply tried to be a good brother and look out for you.

You had never felt more humiliated in your entire life.

Dropping all attempts to bring Peter's unhealthy behaviour to your parents' attention, you decided there was just one thing to do - separate yourself from him completely.

No more doing the housework together, no more chats in the kitchen in the morning, no more having lunch together at school, no more cuddles in the evening. You kept yourself as busy as you could - in the morning you did jogging, at school you spent time with your friends, in the evening you were taking your books and doing your homework in the park, at your friend's place or anywhere convenient. Even though Peter tried following you, you had started to change places all of a sudden to keep him away from you.

This was when he had enough of you distancing yourself.

Suddenly, Peter fighted for affection of your parents with such ferocity as if you tried to strip him of their love. His gradea were suddenly way better than yours - he claimed he had finally felt safe in his new home and could spent his energy elsewhere. The way he behaved was even more sweet than before. On the other hand, strange things started happening to you: once your mother found your expensive satin blouse torn and blamed it on you and your carelessness; the other time the chicken you cooked was so salty it ended in a trash bin; your friend received threats coming from your phone number, though you had never ever sent anything like that to her.

It was easy to guess who was doing this to you, but Peter never admitted it out loud. Talking to your parents was worthless, too, as in their eyes the boy was a pure blessing. How could you blame him for things you did to catch their attention?

Shit. You knew something was wrong with Peter, but you could hardly imagine to what extent he could go to have his way. It was unbelievable a boy like him could manipulate people so easily, wrapping them around his finger. Why was he doing it? Everyone already loved him. Everyone but you.

"Y/N!" Your mother's sharp voice broke the silence, and you hurried downstares, finding your mom near the washing machine with a wet black sock in her hands. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you put your black socks in there when I said to bring your WHITE clothes?!"

"But I didn't!" You gawked at her, knowing perfectly you only brought her what she asked you to. "I swear I didn't!"

"Oh yes, of course, it's Peter who went through your dirty clothes to incriminate you, dear." She sneered at you. "You have to come up with a new excuse, this is getting old. Look what you've done, my white jeans are ruined!"

"Please, mom, I-"

"Go to your room. I don't want to see or hear you." She snapped, tossing the sock to the floor as you stared at her in horror. She had never been so irritated like in the past month when your "slip-ups" were happening more and more often.

Racing upstairs, you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying not to cry. Why was he still doing it to you? Why did Peter want everything to be like he wished? Why did your parents never believe you? It was you who was their true daugther, for God's sake!

Locking the door, you fell down on your bed, burying your head in your soft pillow. It started to become unbearable. Why was this all happening? Despite your growing hate towards Peter, you couldn't say that he was ugly and unpleasant. He was easy on the eyes and could be really nice to people around him, and it made Peter quite popular among the girls at school. Why on Earth didn't he set his eyes on anyone other than you? There were plenty of girls who'd be willing to date him and give him as much attention as he wanted.

You wiped away your angry tears with your pillow, biting on your lower lip. It was unfair, and you weren't going to give in to him just because Peter wanted to play with you like a spoiled child. You'd find a way to prove you weren't guilty of all those things he wanted to pin on you, you just needed to gather yourself and think properly.

Suddenly, you heard someone knocking on your window and rushed to it immediately: your room was on the third floor. Seeing Peter sitting on the bench of a tree, you gasped in shock. You opened the window right away, praying for him to stay still.

"Are you out of your mind?" You whispered in horror, holding out your hand to him. "What are you doing there?!"

He smiled at you like nothing was happening, taking your arm and crawling towards your window. In the next moment he was already inside your room, grinning like a kid and shutting the window behind himself. You furrowed your brows, your heart racing. Peter was insane!

"What if you slipped?" You asked him furiously. "Are you mad? Do you want to die?!"

"No, but you wouldn't let me in your room unless I came in the window." He admitted carelessly and smiled, reaching out to you and enveloping you in a hug. "I'm glad you don't want me to fall."

"You're out of your mind, brother." You grunted, trying to push him away, but his grip was only becoming stronger. "What are you doing? Let me go, please."

"But I want a hug from you. Is it so bad?"

You clenched your teeth, watching him angrily. "You just made my mom scream at me for that stupid sock. You think you deserve a hug?"

"I only did it because you're stubborn. It's your fault I had come to this, Y/N." His sickly sweet smile made you nauseated as you put your hands on his chest in attempt to keep him away. "Come on, why have you been acting so cold? I just want to be a part of your family."

"Are you serious?"

Your eyes could burn a hole in his face as you stared at him, getting more and more angry with his behaviour and trying to blame you for his own actions.

"This isn't like it should be in a family, Peter. We're siblings now. Siblings don't do it... l-like that." You felt your face growing hot as you became deeply embarrassed, knowing how your words could be interpreted.

"But we're not siblings, are we?" He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his dark eyes at you and smiling widely.

You growled in irritation, still unable to get rid of him holding you like a doll in his hands.

"If you don't want me to be your sister, what family are you talking about, then?"

"We'll, it's not the only family I can have with you, right?"

You stilled, unsure you understood what Peter meant as he chuckled with content, watching you getting more and more confused while he gently caressed your back. What other family he could possibly mean?

It took you a few seconds to realize he was talking about marriage between you two.

Your eyes popped out of its sockets. Was he fucking serious? That kind of family? No, he should have been out of his mind completely. He definitely had to see a psychiatrist or something!

"You're joking, aren't you?" You muttered, shocked. "You can't be serious!"

"But I am, sister." Peter's sweet smile was slowly turning sinister as he leaned closer to you, dropping a kiss to your temple as you shivered against him, wanting nothing but get away. "And you better stop with that silly attitude of yours if you don't want me to get real angry."

"And what are you going to do if I don't? What if I will tell everyone about this?"

He smirked, touching your forehead with his and closing his eyes for a second.

"I see you still don't understand." Peter whispered to you, watching you getting more and more nervous. “I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no one but me.”

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight

#peter parker #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker x reader #spider-man #yandere #tom holland

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