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harleysarchive · 5 years ago

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Among You and Me - Corpse x Reader Oneshot (part 2)

Fandom: Corpse, youtubers Warning: Profanity, a lot of swear words, fluffiness, quite long Pairing: Corpse x f!reader Summary: You and Corpse continues with your conversations and it makes you realize that you have feelings for each other.

Requested

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After Corpse had followed you on instagram the two of you talked like nonstop for days. It almost felt like you had known him for years. You had the same humor and he talked about some horror stories he wanted to do and you thought they sounded cool - but not wanting to admit that they scared you as well. You talked about school and how stressed out you were for the essays and exams that were coming up soon.

“I have an exam next Wednesday so I will be off the internet the whole day :(“ you wrote and buried your head in your pillow.

“That sucks big time.”

“It doesss.”

“Wait… Then you will miss my upcoming stream that day :(“

Shit, you thought. You really wanted to see his stream but right now you don’t have time for it. Which sucks even more than school.

“Probably, I’m sorry :(“ you said and locked your phone to get ready for school.

Corpse POV.

I read the message she sent again and didn’t know what to answer. My brain was so tired so it had problems with coming up with coherent replies. I was not prepared for how the feeling of hurt and sadness that came with that response.

Why did I react like this, of course she has other stuff to do than to watch my stream…

But I couldn’t shake the hurt feeling from my chest. Even though we only had talked for a couple of days it felt like we had known each other for longer than that. She felt like a close friend almost. And when she was with me on my streams, it reduced my anxiety and my nervousness to know that she was watching, somehow it eased my nerves a lot.

Why do I need you there with me to feel safe? he thought to himself and started to type in a response.

“It’s okay, nail those exams for me ;)” he hit send. Thoughts fucking exams that is keeping you away from my stream.

Wait, wait, where the fuck did that thought come from?

I shook my head, trying to think about something else. I pressed on (Y/N)’s profile on instagram and started to go through her feed. There were some selfies, some pictures of nature and different places where she had been. Some pictures with friends and some with her family. I stopped on a specific selfie of her. She looked so beautiful on it, all I could do was to admire it - and her. Then I did something I thought I’d never do. I took a screenshot of the photo and saved it as my background on my phone.

I will never meet her so this won’t do any harm, I told myself before I fell asleep.

Your POV.

You threw your bag at the couch and fell down face first in the bed. School was killing you at the moment and it wasn’t better with the essays that were piling up on your schedule. You groaned into the pillow and then took up your phone, one message from instagram. You opened it and it was from Corpse. Your heart made a little extra jump everytime you saw the name appear, and that he had answered you. You smiled and read the text.

“It’s okay, nail those exams for me ;)”

“I will try my best to ace them, just for you ;)” you felt bold writing the last part. But what the hell right?

You hit send and waited for him to respond. He was probably asleep now, knowing his weird sleeping schedule. Not wanting to wait the whole day - it would drive you nuts and also give you thoughts like “what if I’m annoying or disturbing him?” “what if my message woke him up and he’ll get mad and never want to talk to me again?” “what if…” you know?

You opened your texted book and tried your hardest to study, but it was hard when your mind was constantly wanders away to Corpse - the man that has been on your mind all the time lately and you didn’t mind it really.

Is it possible to fall in love with someone that you haven’t met? you thought. Because if it is so, then I’m fucked...

Corpse POV.

I must’ve slept for more than three hours for the first time in weeks because I almost didn’t feel dead. I looked over at my phone and I had two messages. One from Dave checking up on me and one from (Y/N). I checked (Y/N)’s message first.

“I will try my best to ace them, just for you ;)”

I got a warm feeling on my chest reading the last part, just for you. I liked that. I liked that a lot actually, more than I liked to admit to myself. I looked at my background picture and there she was smiling at me. Even though it was just a picture from instagram it felt like she smiled at me. And only to me. Some confidence sparked inside of me and I messaged her again.

“Can I get your number?”

Your POV.

You had taken a break from your studying and were watching Mark, Bob, Wade and Sean playing Phasmophobia. It was hilarious to watch. Your phone lit up and you had gotten a message from Corpse on instagram.

“Can I get your number?”

You stared at the message, he wanted your number. Your thumbs were typing but were shaking so bad, all this kinds of emotions can’t be good for you.

“Of course!” you typed and then wrote down your number to him. You hit send and bit nervously on your nails. Not long after you got a message from an unknown number.

Hey is this (Y/N)?

Yes is it! Corpse?

Oh thank god! I was nervous I had typed in it wrong and were messaging some weirdo.

You smiled at the two of you continued your conversations throughout the evening.

Some days later it was Wednesday and you had one of your exams. You were a little bit nervous but not a lot. You had tried your best to study, even with obvious distractions, and you had got some informations in your brain.

Wish me luck on my exam! you send to Corpse, knowing fully that he was sleeping, it was early in the morning, or perhaps he hasn’t even gone to bed yet. Yoy got a ding on your phone.

Good luck (Y/N), not that you need it you are a smart girl. But I know that you are going to kill it 🖤

The heart in the end made your heart jump.

How am I suppose to consentrate when he sends me stuff like that?

The exam went like a dream, you knew all the answers to all the questions and it went by fast. You felt pleased with yourself and looked at the clock and it was just before noon. Corpse livestream had just begun!

If I grab a quick lunch I can get home before it is over! you thought to yourself and walked as fast as you could towards the school cafeteria and then straight home.

You made it just in the middle of the stream, they were playing Among Us and Corpse were super nervous. You felt bad for him because you knew that he was great at the game. He didn’t have to be so hard on himself. An idea popped up in your head. You donated 10$ to his stream and wrote:

“You are doing great Corpse and my exam went great ;) much love (Y/N)”

Now you were just waiting to see if he will notice the message.

Corpse POV.

My hands were shaking so bad, more than usual. It was normal for me to be nervous before and during a stream but today my nerves were going crazy. I was making rookie mistakes as a impostor, like wtf I am supposed to be the number one impostor here.

Fuck I wish my hands would stop shaking so bad, why am I so nervous? Well I knew the answer to the question but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. (Y/N) wasn’t here watch and it sucked so bad. I felt lonely and anxious. I looked over at the chat and was that I had recieved a donation with a message.

“”You are doing great Corpse and my exam went great ;) much love (Y/N)” Why thank you-... Wait a minute, (Y/N)?” my voiced cracked at the end of the sentence and I am sure someone caughed up with my surprised and overly excited tone. I took up my phone and texted her fast.

Please tell me that was you who wrote that.

I waited and I saw the three dots going of, not helping with my anxiety one bit.

Yes it was me, I finished much earlier with my exam than I anticipated, so I hurried home to see your stream.

My heart became all warm over her message and I didn’t even notice that I had held my breath before I let out a huge sigh. She hurried home to watch me. My hands were shaking but not over my nervousness, but from excitement and, i don’t know happiness maybe. Three dots appeared again on the screen.

I couldn’t leave you alone when I know how nervous you get when you’re streaming.

Fuck... That sentence made me fall over the edge, if I haven’t already. I am falling for (Y/N) and I haven’t even met her...

Yet.

A/N: Upon many requests, here is part two! It made me so happy to see all the comments on my first oneshot and how well recieved it got. Thank you all so freaking much! :D

Tags:

@annshit @artist-bby @polahorvat @wibblytimey @sadlysober @usuie12 @lunaruss @yeolliedokai @fanworrior @kirislut @deathcompass @pillowjj @simonsbluee @reddeserths

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse_husband #corpse_husband x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #imagine #imagines #harleysarchive #youtuber imagine #youtuber x reader #youtuber imagines

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irrelevantwriter · 4 years ago

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No Questions, No Lies

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, angst, characters who refuse to say how they feel, asshole Rio (low key loves it)

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: Part 4. Riding a high, you decide to invite Rio over. But things don’t go as planned.

A/N: Once again, I am here, standing in front of you lovely people and saying thank you for all the love and support this series has gotten. It means the world. And then some. Onto the good shit...this part has lots of feelings, not all of them good. Angst is heavy towards the end, but first...smut. We love some toxic ass yearning, don't we? Also, we get some Rio POV in the first half. I’ve got two more parts planned so as always, stay tuned. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He shifted in his seat, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of you as you handed off the bag of cash to Mick. Your gaze tried to find his through the blackened windows, searching for his presence in the front seat of the Mercedes SUV. It was no use. The tint was as dark as he could get it without drawing attention. Not that it mattered. The cops were always sniffing around...waiting for him to slip up. They were going to be waiting a long time.

He rubbed his chin as you rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger door. A cool breeze carrying the scent of your perfume swept in as you settled into the seat. He took you in slowly, gaze sweeping over your body as it often did when in your company. The sweater and jeans you wore were nondescript enough, but the hint of cleavage was obvious. And because you wanted to draw his attention, he gave you what you wanted and admired the area he’d been up close with only weeks before.

“Hi.” You greeted somewhat shyly, the gesture making him smirk. Even after the sex, you still got nervous around him. It had lessened tremendously since he’d first fucked you on your kitchen counter, but it wasn’t gone completely. And he had to admit that he liked that. Liked that he had such an effect on you.

“Sup, mama…” He replied, licking his lips as you averted your eyes from his.

It’d been three weeks since he’d shown up at your house in the early morning hours, announcing his return. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss being inside you. Now that he’d gotten a taste, it was difficult to manage without it. But you both had tedious schedules. He had several businesses. You had your kids. It didn’t always line up. And for three weeks it hadn’t. But seeing you now...he’d happily fuck you into the expensive leather of his seats if you’d let him.

“Everything good?” He prompted, noticing that you were fidgeting with your hands. You seemed worried, like something was weighing heavy on your mind. That wasn’t good.

“Yeah, yeah...of course.” You replied unconvincingly.

Rio leaned forward across the seat and placed a hand over both of yours, stilling the anxious movement of your fingers. Your eyes finally met his, a smile gracing your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He gruffly demanded, more out of concern for his operation than your personal feelings.

Your response surprised him.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

He took a long moment to silently take you and your words in. There was a softness in your features. It was unlike the expression of stress he’d seen you wear before. This wasn’t about business. This was personal.

“For what?” He asked, releasing your hand and sitting back to face you.

You bit your bottom lip and he watched as the appendage came away glossy and begging to be touched. His hand itched to reach out, but he stopped himself. Eager to see where you were taking this. Because he already had an idea.

“I...I need you.” You whispered, your gaze sliding to the deserted streets just beyond the windshield. You were hesitant. And that wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to teach you to take. In this world, there was no room for hesitation. You had to have the confidence to demand. If you didn’t, the weight of those around you who did would crush you.

Despite your timidness, his body hummed at your breathy confession. His blood pumped wildly in his veins while deep male satisfaction filled his chest. Inwardly, he was gloating. Outwardly, he was calm and nonchalant.

He shook his head and angled his ear towards you, as if signaling he couldn’t hear. “You gotta speak up.”

There was no humor in his tone. He wasn’t trying to tease you. He was acting as your instructor. Forcing you to be real about what you wanted.

He heard you scoff and as he turned to face you once again, he could see your hand reach out for the door handle. He stopped you with an outstretched arm, making sure to brush against your chest as he did.

“Just tell me what you want, darling.” He rasped, coercing your eyes to meet his.

You sighed, seemingly frustrated with yourself. He lifted his arm from across your body and instead let his fingertips trail down the side of your face. He watched from his peripheral as your chest expanded with a heavy breath, your breasts straining against the fabric of your sweater.

“You. I need you.” You repeated, the conviction clear in your voice this time.

He nodded, his thumb tracing the pout of your bottom lip. “That’s what I thought you said.”

Rio leaned in close, his mouth hovering dangerously over yours. You licked your lips in preparation for the action, the motion momentarily hypnotizing him. His eyes swept over your face, taking in every detail. His intense study made you shift in your seat. Maybe it was unease. He hoped it was arousal.

“I’ll be there.” He replied, pulling away and settling back into his own seat.

You blinked and nodded, still seemingly dazed by his proximity.

He hadn’t kissed you. And it was intentional. The constant push and pull of your relationship was maddening on most days. There was always an aspect of it that needed attention. Whether it was business or personal. It was always work. But times like these were what made it worth it. The teasing. The buildup. The attraction. It was so palpable he could practically taste it against his tongue. You were as frustrating as you were alluring and he was going to indulge in that combination until there was nothing left.

He wanted it all.

************

You smoothed out the fabric of your dress for the umpteenth time as you scrutinized your reflection. Nerves knotted in your stomach as you struggled to maintain some form of composure. Rio had texted you ten minutes before to say he was on his way. You didn’t know how much time that gave you, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough.

You’d regretted your desperate demand of him the instant you’d left his car earlier that day. The cool air had pulled you from the fog of your lust and threw you back into reality. And it wasn’t good. You’d made a fool of yourself. You were better than that. You could form full sentences and express thoughts. You were confident and fully capable of telling a man to come over so that you could sleep with him. Especially one you’d already slept with.

You tried to find the courage that had consumed you the last time you’d slept with him. You’d taken without asking and he’d happily reciprocated. It was the very definition of raw desire and you had every intention of recreating it tonight.

Which is why you were taking extra care to make sure your dress was perfect, along with your hair and makeup. Not that it truly mattered. He’d already seen you practically fresh out of bed in cotton panties.

A knock at the front door made you jump in surprise, the knots in your stomach now turning to butterflies. You took one last look at yourself before you made your way towards the entryway, your bare feet soundless along the cool hardwood floors.

You opened the door, seeing Rio on the other side. He looked good. He always looked good. Dark shirt, dark jeans. And that unwavering look of smugness he so often wore. He was expressive without having to do or say much. He was self-assured. Arrogant even. The calm intensity he possessed was almost a magical power, holding you captive. It had a dual effect on your body. You were afraid. But it paled in comparison to your insistent arousal.

“Hi,” You greeted, gesturing for him to come in.

He did so wordlessly, eyes taking in your form as he moved. He let you lead him through the house and towards the kitchen and you swore you could feel his gaze blazing across your back, leaving a mark. He was good at that. He was good at making you feel seen. The rush of having someone pay attention to you in the way that Rio did was utterly seductive. It was addictive. And you wanted it for as long as he was willing to give it to you.

“You want something to drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading towards the cabinet that housed the whiskey.

Rio’s voice stopped you.

“Nah, I’m good.”

You faltered and turned to see him leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression. Your insides heated with every silent second that passed between you. Looking at him made you remember why you’d asked him over. It wasn’t for a drink and it definitely wasn’t for small talk. Primal need began to swell within you as you stepped towards him. He was going to make you see your desperation through.

He straightened as you approached and invaded his space. You reached a hand out to trace the buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at the end of the fabric as you did.

“Come on,” You whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your bedroom. Any form of pretense was gone. You both knew why he was there...why he’d actually shown up.

You prayed he followed as you walked down the hall and into a space he had yet to be invited into. Until now. His footsteps echoed behind you, entering the bedroom and taking in his surroundings. You swallowed and turned to face him, pure want reflecting in his eyes. It urged you forward.

“Sit on the bed.” You commanded, voice surprisingly steady.

The corner of Rio’s lips edged upwards, but he did as you said. It appeared as if he was humoring you, expecting that you’d back out and end the night before it even began. But you were far past that. He’d made it clear, without words, that he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He was going to make you work for everything. Whether that be his money or his affection. So you’d do it. You’d put in the work. And he’d reward you.

You reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, but it was too high. You stepped between his legs and faced away from him, motioning to the metal teeth that held the garment together.

“You mind?” You asked, waiting in anticipation. It was only a second later when you felt the brush of his finger against your back as he lowered the zipper. He made sure to drag his skin across yours, slowly and feather-light. It was almost non-existent, yet it pulled a shiver from you anyway.

You caught the loosened fabric before it fell, holding it to your chest. You turned and met his hooded gaze, noting the way his jaw was clenched. You let the dress fall to the floor, revealing the black lace you wore underneath. His eyes scanned your body like a predator stalking its prey, your nipples hardening in response. The sheer material of the bra barely concealed your body’s reaction. He took notice.

“That new?” He asked, chin jutting out and gesturing to the lace that adorned your body.

You stepped out of the dress and back between the space of his thighs, forcing him to look up at you. That familiar spicy scent filled your nostrils. It was his scent. And it lured you in further to his body’s warmth.

“If you want to think that highly of yourself.” You quipped with a coquettish smile, hands resting on his shoulders. His own hands remained on his thighs; not showing any indication that he was going to reach out and touch you.

His question had been spot on though. You had in fact went out and bought new lingerie. Several things in fact. And you might’ve bought them in black. A color that reminded you of only one person.

Rio chuckled lowly at your answer, licking his lips as you eased your breasts near his face. “You can’t let me have an inch, can you?” He challenged, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked up at you.

“If I give you an inch, you’ll take a mile.” You retorted, hands skimming along the back of his scalp. His fingers twitched against your legs at the motion, so you made sure to do it again.

Again he laughed. Humorless and patronizing.

“I can’t take what’s already mine.”

He said the words with so much confidence that you had to pause. You stilled your hands and for once stared right back into the depthless pools of his eyes. You predictably got lost in them, as you so often did with anything involving the man. His declarations of ownership should’ve scared you. They should’ve made you turn and run away. Instead, you went headlong into the storm.

“Pretty confident in yourself.” You replied, lowering yourself to your knees. He let his thighs fall open to make room for you, his expression showing just how pleased he was with your change in position.

“I’m not the one on my knees.” He threw back, hand finally reaching out to caress your cheek. His thumb swiped at your lips as his eyes zeroed in on them, no doubt picturing them wrapped around him.

“Touché.” You teased, kissing his thumb as it slid across your mouth.

You ran your hands up his thighs and towards his belt buckle. He let you, posture relaxing as he allowed you to do as you pleased. You shifted his pants and underwear out of the way as you pulled him free, your mouth already salivating at the sight. He was hardening with every second, veins and ridges calling to your womb like an old friend. You could feel him watching you as you leaned forward and placed a soft lick to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, but clean, and you wanted more.

You suckled at the tip of him while your hand worked the saliva around his length. He was long and pulsing with yearning in your palm. You let your mouth water around him, the sound of skin sliding against slickened skin now filling the room. The sound aided you in your efforts. You opened your throat to take him in, swallowing and savoring the low groan he expelled. It was music to your ears.

You listened to his reactions, catching every twitch of his cock along your tongue. You mercilessly teased him as you licked long strips along his flesh before you suctioned your cheeks and tightened around him. Your hands worked in tandem. Stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth while traveling down to caress his sac. He grunted and jerked with the action, causing him to slip further down your throat. Tears filled your eyes, but you kept going.

Moisture touched your tongue and you knew he was close. You chanced a glance up and was rewarded with a blissed out Rio. His head was angled back, his adam’s apple bobbing deliciously behind inked flesh as his hand made it to the back of your head. He didn’t push, but he didn’t have to. You happily gagged on his cock.

“That’s enough.” He commanded, voice low and tinged with barely contained control. He pushed your hands off of him and angled your chin up to him, his mouth descending on yours without a second thought.

You let him taste himself. Tongues intertwined in a show of eroticism that mimicked what your bodies longed to do. You steadied yourself on your knees as you grabbed at his shirt while his hands cradled your face. You wanted him to touch you...to explore your body in every way possible. It felt like your entire being was on fire and only he could soothe the ache. You needed him...badly.

“Touch me...please.” You pleaded once you’d broken apart.

He began to unbutton his shirt, discarding the piece of clothing easily as you waited. “Stand up.”

You did as he said, standing on shaky legs between his own. He reached out and smoothed his palms over your thighs and around to your ass, grasping the flesh and kneading. Your eyes closed in blessed relief, a moan just on the tip of your tongue. You jerked in his arms when you felt the wet heat of his mouth against your stomach, his lips trailing kisses along the flesh. Your hands held his head steady as he gave you what you craved. His fingers slid under the band of your panties, shifting the material up and down on your hips.

Impatience drove you to reach around and unclasp your bra, baring your breasts to his hungry kisses. He didn’t miss a beat. He mouthed at the underside of your breasts while his hands cupped them, massaging the sensitive mounds with skillful touches. Your panties felt too restrictive and uncomfortable. Wetness pooled in them as Rio’s touch urged more from you.

“The bed.” You gasped, feeling him pinch a nipple. The sensation made you shudder.

His presence disappeared from your body as he stood, pushing his jeans and underwear down. They fell to the floor as he stepped out of them, his shoes already off. You took him in for the first time. Took in the scarred flesh and lines of ink that ran along sinewy muscles. He was lean, but beautifully toned. All male.

You followed his lead and pushed the last scrap of clothing you wore down. The material fell easily to your feet and you kicked them away. You reveled in the way he looked at you. Untamed and feral. Like you were sin incarnate. It made your pussy clench in urgency.

Your palms glided up his firm chest as you reached forward to kiss him. He reciprocated, insistent hands guiding you to the bed. You let yourself fall to the mattress, his body following yours. Your mouths didn’t separate. You both savored the moment of finally being bare and pressed so closely to one another. You relished the flavors that sat on your tongues as you kissed, barely able to take in a breath. Hands roamed without barriers as he wedged himself between your thighs. You accommodated him, pushing your hips up to entice him inside you. A finger found its way there instead, dragging along your walls and collecting the moisture that had settled within.

“You ready?” He whispered into your ear, his finger now strumming at your swollen clit.

You nodded and moaned, hoping that was answer enough. Your back arched into his chest when he pressed the head of his cock at your entrance, lathering himself in you. Your nails dug into his back, your legs tightening around him. He showered you with tender kisses along your neck as his hips rutted against yours, not yet slipping into the place you both desperately needed him to be.

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, locking gazes with him as he hovered over you. The moment lasted only a second before he was pushing forward. He was fully sheathed and throbbing within you as you clung to him, mouth open but no sound coming out. His face was buried into your neck as you both became reacquainted with the other. You felt deliciously full. Overwhelmingly so as his cock nudged the natural barrier within you. He was as far as he could go, and yet you wanted him closer.

“Move.” You said with a whimper, shifting your hips so that his cock dragged along your velvet walls.

Rio obliged, a prisoner to the cyclone of sensations that had swept you both up. He set a steady pace, his strokes deep and thorough. You cried out when he thrust so hard that you edged up the bed, the headboard rattling against the wall. Beams of light glowed behind your eyelids as he hit every spot as if he was made to. You clung to the silver chain that hung from his neck as he grunted in your ear, each pass of him stealing your breath.

“This what you wanted? Hmm?” He punctuated his question with a bruising drive of his hips forward, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, disoriented by it all. The feel of him atop you. The rhythm of his hot breaths against your neck. The growls that rumbled from his throat. The sting of being stretched as he fucked you. It was enough to have you succumbing to your climax before you were even ready.

You slipped a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, increasing the intensity of your impending release. You locked your legs around his waist and scratched at the sheets as ecstasy washed over you. Your pussy contracted with earth-shattering tremors as you flooded Rio’s cock with your spendings. A litany of moans and gasps accompanied your free fall into space. The man above you stilled as you rode out the waves of orgasm and clenched around him in almost painful spasms. And then, your entire body went limp.

The headboard resumed its melody against the wall as Rio chased his own end. He maneuvered onto his knees, his cock never leaving the confines of your body. He watched you from this new vantage point, taking in the expression of euphoria you wore. Your hands trailed up your abdomen and across your breasts, cupping them for him. His hips picked up speed, his body slapping against yours and creating an echo. You accepted it all as he finally came, filling you full with every drive of his hips. He held you firm as he emptied himself within you, ensuring not a drop was wasted. You hummed at the feel of it, warm and thick and possessing you.

His fingers loosened their hold on your thighs as he came down, the flesh already sore from his grip. He soothed the area, the motion making your eyes feel heavy with sleep instead of lust. You met his gaze and let out a breathless laugh, feeling your limbs already beginning to ache with overuse. He slowly retreated from your body and settled beside you, his back pressed against the headboard as the comforter shielded his lower half from view. You eased into a sitting position, bringing the sheet with you. The act of modesty was unnecessary, but you did so anyway.

“You good?” He asked, face turning serious.

You nodded, the mess between your legs proof of just how good you really were.

“We gotta talk.”

His words made you stiffen. The post-coitus high now tainted.

“About what?” You asked, attempting casualness as you faced him.

“You’re gonna have a new contact from now on. Someone besides me.” He explained. His tone was succinct and to the point. He wasn’t interested in making this a discussion. And that annoyed you. Because it deserved one, whether he thought so or not.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’m moving on to something else. Something different. So now you gotta deal with someone else.”

You shook your head, desperately wishing you now had clothes on. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. It’s how it has to be.” He stated cooly, features schooled into an expression of professionalism, despite his own state of undress.

“Why?” You asked, still struggling to comprehend what he meant. Because it sounded like he was pawning you off to someone else right after he’d fucked you.

“I’m flipping my game. Nothing can be permanent. You get caught if you get comfortable.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No. You don’t.” He retorted dryly. The quickness of his reply threw you, the coldness in it obvious.

“I don’t trust anyone else.” You said, standing up and wrapping yourself in the sheet. Your thoughts were running wild, the disbelief you felt clearly written all over your face.

“I trust him. He’ll handle shit.” Rio reassured you, though it didn’t translate. He sighed and stood from the bed, searching for his underwear and pants.

Anger flared inside of you as he got dressed. He was going to drop a bomb on you and then leave? The notion made blind fury replace the satiation of sex within you.

“I barely trust you.” You threw back, watching as he buttoned his shirt. He shook his head and laughed, apparently finding your statement funny. “Why are you doing this?” You asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice but failing.

He moved towards you and cradled your cheek, a gesture you were starting to loathe. He didn’t have to say anything to be condescending. The intent was clear. That familiar pit formed in your stomach as he stared at you, licking his lips.

“It’s business. This isn't personal. Don’t make it that way, yeah?”

You twisted away from his touch, gritting your teeth in irritation. “So you coming over to fuck me when you want is business?” You challenged, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“I gave you a choice.” He replied, voice raising slightly. His face hardened, his eyes narrowing and spine straightening as you fought against him.

“And what choice was that? To fuck you or die?” You questioned hotly, seeing him take a step towards you.

“You don’t make the rules. This isn’t a fucking partnership, darling. You work for me. You listen to me.” He argued, matching your aggression.

An iota of fear crept up your spine, but you ignored it. You shook your head and turned to leave, but he caught you, holding your arm with a firm grip. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Don’t. Do. That.” He warned, pulling you to face him once again. He was pissed. His temper barely under control as he pinned you with an icy glare.

“Fine....” You acquiesced, jerking your arm free. “Leave me in the able hands of someone else. I’ll make sure and show them the same kind of attention I showed you.” You goaded, seeing the vein in his neck pulse.

“Why do you gotta make shit difficult?” He asked, choosing to ignore your remarks. Rio didn’t wear jealousy well and it was obvious.

“You were the one that came to me, remember? You were the one that spouted that bullshit about trust.” You threw back, uncaring of the consequences.

“That's right.” He confirmed, stepping in your direction and crowding your space. You were both practically breathing the same tension-filled air. “And you went along with it. So go along with this. If not, arrangements can be made.”

You blinked, willing the man before you to disappear. You shouldn’t be surprised that things took such a left turn. They were bound to. And Rio was nothing if not an entrepreneur first. You knew that. Didn’t mean it stung any less.

“Leave.” You demanded, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll be in touch.” He said before he was walking past you and out of the room.

The slamming of the front door echoed throughout the house when he left and you released the breath you’d been holding. Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced them back. The relationship between you and Rio was doomed from the beginning. You were both operating on borrowed time. No matter how much he acted as if he cared, he didn’t. You were a means to an end. That was blatantly apparent now. You were to fall in line and operate under his orders. That was it. But you couldn’t do that. Not when your entire life was at stake. You’d made the mistake of trusting him and he decided to throw it all away. All the progress made...for naught.

Rio would always want his money more than you. It made no difference if you finally offered yourself up on a silver platter, promising to run off with him. He’d surely laugh and pat your cheek, amused by your offer. He’d only been telling you what you wanted to hear. And wasn’t that what you wanted anyway? Wasn’t he just enough for a good time and an even better fuck?

Yeah. He was.

So then why did it hurt so goddamn much?

#rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio x you #rio x reader #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #good girls nbc #nbc good girls

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

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wh0reyp0tter · 4 years ago

Text

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? F.W

Song fic based on Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys

Fred Weasley x fem!reader (house not specified but I pictured Gryffindor)

Includes: Swearing, angst, FWB, unresolved pining, a bit of crying, and “one-sided” love

___________________________________________________________

The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time

But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side

I look around confused as I realize Fred’s no longer beside me. I look around to see him standing in front of a small blonde Gryffindor. She’s laughing at something he says. I sigh softly as I shake my head and make my way to the table full of alcohol. I pull one of the red cups off of the stack before pouring firewhiskey almost to the brim. I fill the rest of the cup with pumpkin juice.

“Y/N!” I hear my name called. I turn to see Lee and George waving me over. I smile at them as I walk over and join them on the couch. “Where’s Fred?”

“Over there,” I reply, pointing out the tall ginger. The two look at the boy before they shake their heads.

“Didn’t he ask you here?” Lee asks confused.

“Yep,” I say, popping the last syllable before taking a big swig off of my drink. The liquid burning its way down my throat.

“He’s such an idiot,” George murmurs. Lee nods in agreement before taking a sip of his own drink.

“At least someone’s having fun,” I say with a soft laugh. I turn to look at Fred, only to see him being pulled up the stairs by the blonde. I bite the inside of my cheek as a twinge of pain runs through my chest. George looks over at me with a soft look in his eyes. I down the rest of my drink before standing to get a refill.

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you

I wake up with a loud groan before I sit up and rub my head. “Bloody hell,” I mutter. I stand up before pulling clothes over my torso and walk out of my door. I see Fred tiptoeing out of the door across from mine, shoes in hand. He closes the door softly as he turns to look at me.

“Morning,” he says with a bright smile. I look at him with a tight-lipped smile as I walk out of the hallway and towards the Great Hall.

Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply

I’m woken up by a loud buzzing beside my bed. I blink a few times as I sit up and reach over to grasp my phone. I squint at the almost blinding brightness. As my eyes adjust to the new brightness I see Fred’s name across the small screen. I roll my eyes before I click the answer button.

“Hello?” I say into the phone.

“Hey, love,” Fred giggles. “Miss you.”

“Bloody christ Fred, it’s,” I pause to pull the phone from my face and check the time. “Fucking 3 in the morning! What could you possibly need?”

“Just missed your voice,” he hums into the receiver. His words slowed and mixing together. “Wanted to hear it.”

“What are you doing awake? We have class in like 4 hours!” I exclaim.

“Got bored, so Georgie and I were smoking,” he laughs. I close my eyes before I take a deep breath.

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?" I ask softly, my voice cracking at the end. There’s silence for a few moments before a giggle rings through my ear.

“Hi,” Fred says, I can practically hear the grin in his voice.

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?" I repeat my question. There’s more silence, this time not followed by a laugh. I shake my head in annoyance as I click the red button and put my phone back on the table before laying back down.

Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

I feel someone pull me into a dark corridor as I was walking towards the Gryffindor common room. “What the fu-” I begin to say loudly. My sentence was cut off by someone’s lips on mine. My eyes widen as I push them away from me.

“Calm down darling, ‘s just me,” a voice chuckles.

“Christ Fred, you gave me a bloody heart attack!” I say in a hushed voice as I slap his chest. “What are you doing.”

“Just figured we could help each other out,” he hums as he begins placing soft kisses down my neck. I close my eyes as I let out a soft sigh.

“I’m supposed to be meeting Hermione,” I say as I feel his hand trail under my skirt. Fred pulls away from me with a smirk.

“Guess we’ll just have to be quick then,” he replies before I’m being pressed against the wall behind me.

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

“C’mon love, we can keep the boys waiting for a little bit,” Fred pleas as his hand tugs on mine.

“Fred, no,” I say sternly as I look at him.

“You always want to,” Fred argues.

“We agreed to hang out with George and Lee. I’m not blowing off more of my friends just so you get a shag. I’m going. You can join me, or get your dick wet somewhere else,” I reply. I pull my hand out of his grasp before I continue towards the boys’ dorm. I push my way through the door as I let it slam shut behind me.

“Y/N/N, are you alright?” A voice asks. I bite the inside of my cheek as I move to sit on George’s bed with him and Lee.

“I’m okay,” I say with a soft smile.

“Fred?” Lee asks. I nod silently as I feel a soft hand rub up and down my back.

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply

That night my phone buzzes a few times and my screen flashes showing multiple text messages. I roll my eyes before I pick it up only to see five missed calls from Fred and a few text messages.

‘hey u up?’

‘u can’t stil be ignoring me’

‘fuk Y/N/N, i’m sorry alright’

‘just com 2 my dorm’

‘miss u’

‘every part ;)’

I close my eyes for a moment before texting my response quickly.

‘Why'd you only call me when you're high?’

Moments later my phone begins buzzing in my hand as I see Fred’s name flash across my screen. I take a deep breath before answering it.

“Hello?” I ask, clearly annoyed.

“You answered,” Fred says softly. “Hi.”

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?" I ask.

“You walked out earlier, just wanted to see if you fancy a meetup,” Fred replies. I let out a scoff before hanging up quickly. I place my phone back where it was before laying down, staring at the ceiling.

‘Is that all I’m good for?’ I think to myself. I feel a few tears roll down my face as I close my eyes.

And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I

It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time

“Where’s Y/N?” Fred asks as he sits beside his brother. George shrugs as he leans on the wall. Fred looks around the room to see the small girl standing in front of Cedric Diggory with a bright smile on her face. ‘She only looks at me like that,’ Fred thinks to himself. Before he knows what he’s doing he’s already across the room.

“Hey mate,” Cedric says offering the tall ginger a smile. “Good job on your win today. You played great!”

“Thanks, can I borrow Y/N for a second?” Fred asks. Before either of the pair could argue, Fred pulls her away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Talking, before I was so rudely yanked away,” Y/N scowls.

“Why were you look at him like that?” Fred pries.

“Like what?” Y/N laughs.

“Like you fancy him!” Fred exclaims.

“Maybe I do,” the smaller girl scoffs. “Why does it matter?”

“You’re supposed to fancy me!” Fred argues.

“Yeah, I did,” she says softly before she walks away. Fred stands in place for a moment, in shock, before disappearing.

I haven't found all I was hopin' to find

You said you gotta be up in the mornin'

“Oi Y/N!” A loud voice calls after me. I turn to see Fred jogging up to me. “Fancy coming to my dorm with me?”

“I can’t,” I reply.

“It’s been ages! I miss that pretty little pussy of yours,” Fred says. The last little bit of his sentence turning into a whisper pressed into my ear. I feel my cheeks heat up as I shake my head at the boy.

“As much as I would love to, I have class in the morning. Have a good night Fred,” I say before I walk away.

Gonna have an early night

And you're startin' to bore me, baby

Fred sighs softly as he stares up at his ceiling. He pulls his phone out to see it’s only 9:30 at night. ‘I’m never in this late,’ he scoffs to himself. Fred sets his phone on the table beside him before closing his eyes, trying to sleep. After what felt like an eternity he decides against sleeping. He stands up before pulling a hoodie over his torso. Fred puts on a pair of trainers before walking out of his dorm. He quickly makes his way up to the astronomy tower, only to be met with a figure standing in front of the large opening. Fred moves further into the room only to be met with the girl who’s been occupying his thoughts. “Y/N?” He says quietly. She turns around as he sees tears evident on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Why'd you only call me when you're high?” She asks, tears falling down her face.

#fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfiction #angst #pining #one sided love #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x you

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kissinginkitchens · 4 years ago

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

“Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

************

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #solo harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #one direction #harry styles fic #harry fic #ybmh #it's getting real smirk emoji

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doitjake · 4 years ago

Text

The music in us - P1

Jake kiszka x reader

warnings: none.

Requests: “two rockstars meeting in a festival, and both bands hanging out cause they are both friends with the struts, then jake starts falling in love w this person because of their personality, talent and charisma, they start to match in the second day of camping at the festival and then the bands have to play in the same day, jake tells his feeling and the reader doesn’t know how to react.”

A/N: this was an incredible request and I took a while to post it because I wanted it to be at least reasonable haha. this is the first part, i will probably post the second part on saturday or sunday. I hope you like it and if you want to see a specific scene in the second part comment here or you can send me a message / question!!

Requests here: https://forms.gle/6uMRSCzFvyR2FgZPA

Being in a band with your 2 best friends and your cousin is definitely awesome, until the first week.

"POPPY WHERE'S MY FUCKING HAIRBRUSH?" A super angry drummer was seen getting on the bus.

"Ana, can't you speak a sentence at a normal voice volume?" That was Lexa, our guitarist or our mother, whichever you prefer. She performs both functions very well.

"No, I can't." She walks over to Poppy and snatches her hairbrush out of her hand. "At least not when vocalists with superiority complexes steal my stuff." She walks to the small bathroom on the bus as Poppy showed her the middle finger.

Even inside the bus you could hear several bands doing sound checks and stages being finalized outside. We had arrived at the Summer Rock Festival a few hours ago, it would be three days of festival, we would perform on the second day, after our friends from The Struts and before the boys from Greta Van Fleet.

"Luke texted me, he and the boys are already heading to the bar." Lexa stands up fixing the bottom of her beautiful dress that looked like it was straight out of the 70's, "So if we don't want to be late our dear drummer had better get out of this fucking bathroom soon."

"Hey, no swearing, Mom." I walk past her grabbing my leather jacket from the seat. "Ana! Let's go!"

By the time Lexa and Poppy are outside I am trying to find my cell phone amidst a pile of clothes, Ana finally comes out of the bathroom.

"Cousins by chance, twins by choice." She pulls up the sleeves of her jacket, just like mine, smiling at me.

I find my cell phone and slip my arm over Ana's shoulders, leading us to the bus door.

"Did I mention I hate you?" I ask coming down the small staircase and find Poppy and Lexa waiting for us to go.

"Hm, I guess not today yet." She goes to Poppy's side and pats her chin. "Stop drooling, Poppy."

Lexa and I turn to where Poppy was looking and find the 4 boys from Greta taking their instruments off the bus, about 50 feet away from us.

"Fuck you, Ana," Poppy starts walking towards the exit of the festival, where there is an avenue full of bars, nightclubs, strip clubs and karaoke places.

In less than 10 minutes we had already arrived at the bar and before we even entered Jed already called us shouting. "Hey, girls! Over here!"

It was always really cool to hang out with the boys, we knew each other because of Jed and Adam being friends with Poppy's older brother. We joined them and other people from the crew and some other artists at the festival and less than 2 minutes later several bottles of beer were already on the tables.

I looked at my band mates, we spend so much time together that it is fun to analyze them socializing with other people besides ourselves.

Poppy was probably the most outgoing of us, everyone liked her, she was always nice and polite to everyone and it was amazing to see men with long beards and leather vests making fun of a girl singing rock and then Poppy shutting them up, either with her talent or her knowledge.

Lexa was so calm that it is still shocking to me to see her play and totally transform on stage. She had a 70's hippie style that matched perfectly with her long blond hair and delicate features.

And Ana, my band mate that I have known all my life, my younger cousin. Certainly the strongest personality among the four of us, her life revolved around music, and I loved that about her.

Oh, of course. There's me too, but I don't think it's worth describing myself too much. I'm probably too dull around them. I wasn't outgoing like Poppy, I wasn't charming like Lexa, and I definitely didn't have as much personality as Ana.

My God, what a depression. I need another drink, one stronger than beer.

"Hey, I'm going to go to the bar. I'll be right back." I speak to Lexa receiving a nod in response.

Reaching over I choose the only drink capable of cheering me up.

"A shot of Jack Daniels. No ice please" I speak loudly so the bartender can hear through the music of The Who playing at the bar.

"I always thought it was the guitar players who were more into whiskey" A husky voice came over the music right in my right ear. "I thought bass players were more into vodka"

And then the seat next to me was taken by Jake Kiszka, guitarist for Greta Van Fleet, well I definitely can't compare to Poppy on the subject of "GVF FANGIRL", but wow.

"What about the vocalists and drummers?" I asked as the bartender left the shot of Jack Daniels in front of me.

"Vocalists? Probably some weird drink and drummers for sure are the beer guys." He smiles and turns the stool around facing me "I'm Jake" He holds out his hand to you.

"Y/N" I hold his hand.

"The bass player who made my theory go down the drain." He laughs arching an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe I'm an exception.

"Yeah, maybe there was a glitch in the matrix." He turns to call the bartender. "May I imitate you?" He indicates my glass with his head.

"You're the guitar player here, I think I'm the one copying you." I smile at him and he reciprocates, and shit, why do I think I could stare at him smile forever? And then I feel an arm on my shoulders.

"So you mean my friends are friends, and I didn't know?" Luke leaned one arm on me and the other on Jake, clearly not sober anymore. "Come on over to the table, antisocial people, your bands are waiting."

Luke releases our shoulders and looks at us. "Or are you guys busy planning to pick each other up?"

I could feel all my blood rising to my cheeks in a second, and thank God I had already swallowed the whiskey, otherwise I probably would have spit it all out.

"Of course not Luke." I gave a nervous laugh praying that I could disguise my embarrassment. Which only increased when Jake tilted his head to the side looking at me and gave a weak laugh and then getting up to walk over to the table.

Now there were more people at the table, including the other three members of Greta, and I sat down between Adam and Ana. "Please dig a hole and stick me in" I whispered to my cousin.

"With pleasure." She winked and smiled at me, "But may I know why?"

With the music loud and our friends talking around us I had to lean 'round to whisper right into her ear. "I was talking to Jake Kiszka and then Luke came over and thought we were going to kiss and I looked like an idiot."

"You always look like an idiot, cousin." He whispered in response. "But you want to kiss him?" Ana smiled mischievously.

"Oh my god, I was just talking to him."

"Well, you should kiss him, he's handsome." She picks up her beer and offers me a bottle.

"You say that because you have a crush on his twin." I open my bottle as I watch Ana choke on her own beer and cast a quick glance at Josh. "Oh come on, you can't disguise yourself." I laugh slapping our bottles together before taking a long sip.

"I don't have a crush on him." Ana squirms in her chair uncomfortably. "He's the lead singer, he has several women after him, and he must have a superiority complex just like Poppy."

"He seems pretty cool!"

"Y/N! ANA!" Poppy's voice managed without louder than the music in the bar, causing us to turn around and find 10 pairs of eyes staring at us. "Are you guys deaf?"

As I run my gaze around the table I realize that all the boys' crew have left, now it's just us, the boys from The Struts and Greta Van Fleet.

"Hm, hey!" I reply before Ana has a chance to cuss Poppy out.

"We're going to karaoke, the bar closes early today." Gethin gets up from the table, being followed by his bandmates, Josh, Sam, Danny, Poppy and Lexa.

"I'm in!" Ana stands up.

"I'm going back to the bus, I don't have as much energy as you guys." I stand up grabbing my cell phone and wallet.

"Let's go together." Jake speaks and I realize that he was the only one who hadn't gotten up until now.

"Ok" I say trying to look calm and not knowing why I am nervous, like a teenage girl who likes the popular boy.

I say goodbye to everyone and when I pass by Ana she winks at me, in a not discreet way.

After we pay for our drinks, Jake and I head out onto the streets of Chicago to return to the festival.

"Excited for tomorrow?" Jake asks as we cross one of the avenue streets.

"For sure, tomorrow and our days will have the best shows!" I look at him. "I feel like I might faint just remembering that I'm going to see Steven Tyler live tomorrow." He throws his head back and laughs. "Now you think I'm some kind of crazy fangirl." I smile.

"Oh, of course not." Jake returns the smile by looking at me. "The chances of me passing out at the Stones concert are not small either."

"So, you're a 'fangirl' for Keith Richards?"

"Definitely." He laughs again shaking his head.

"Does that mean that for you 'team stones' is right?

"Well, it's certainly a tough contest, but yes 'team stones'." He turns to me with the corners of his lips raised. "Team Beatles?"

"And a George stan with pride." I smile and wink at him amused. "Okay, important question."

"Okay, speak." Jake runs his fingers through the strands of hair that fall down the side of his face.

"Pearl Jam or Nirvana?"

"Is there a right answer?" He asks and I arch an eyebrow at him. "Okay, hm, Nirvana."

"You had a right answer! And you got it wrong." I smile. "Come on, Eddie Veder is almost a God."

Jake laughs and brings his hands in front of his body in a sign of redemption. "I don't disagree!"

And then I realize that we arrived at the festival some time ago and are now facing my bus.

"Thank you so much, for walking me here." I say to him, climbing up the first step of the entrance stairs, almost standing the same height as Jake.

"You're welcome!" He gives me a smile and puts his hands in the pockets of his black skinny pants. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

You smile at him and Jake moves closer and deposits a kiss on your cheek.

"Bye!"

“Bye, Jake!”

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #gvf imagine #jake kiszka gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #fanfic #imagine #jake imagines #jake x reader #jacob kiszka

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ashbrea381writings · 4 years ago

Text

Red-Eye to Destiny: Chapter 2, The Gala

Mari and Luka texted Damian as soon as they made it back to the house just outside of town. Upon receiving the return message, they promptly fell into bed and slept soundly until late into the morning. Lazily getting dressed for the day, the pair started unpacking their clothes, setting up for laundry and airing out coats that didn’t need washing but definitely needed some care. Going into her design studio, Mari checked on her dress that she’d completed before they left for the last few concerts before their holiday break. “Luka, why does your dad want us to go to this thing again?” Mari sighed, hanging the dress up to check for any last-second alterations she might want to make.

“It’s good networking. He’s hung out with the organizers a bunch and wanted us to meet them, plus tons of people are gonna be there. He said that one of the organizers has a bunch of sons who usually cause some scene or another so it’s usually pretty funny.” Luka walked into the room and rested his chin on top of her head. “Besides, it’ll be a chance to show off your skills to some people who might want to commission something.” “I suppose.” Mari leaned back into Luka for a moment before pulling away to pull out his suit. Mari had made Luka a custom Leather Tuxedo jacket with teal trim on the cuffs and lapels, a matching teal lining and a few silver studs on the collar. His pants were simple charcoal grey with teal lining on the pockets, and subtle teal stitchwork around the cuffs and waistband. His shirt was simple black with a teal pocket square and everything. “I’m still so impressed by you, Melody.” Luka sighed, pouring love into every word through their bond. Mari just giggled in response and ran her fingers over the seams in both his suit and her dress. The dress itself was a strapless, deep burgundy dress with black cherry blossoms embroidered and beaded in a sweeping shape from the hem to the bodice of the dress where it spread out to cover most of the bust in beautiful, 3d flowers made from thread and beads. A small bit of lace rose above the bodice and, when worn, would drape itself modestly over the top of the bust making the sweetheart neckline appear more conservative than it was. The skirt itself was more or less simple, full with the aforementioned flowers down the front in a curve before meeting the black velvet hem of the skirt. Secreted around the skirts where only Mari knew the openings, were several Kwami-sized pockets. “What does everyone think?” Mari asked the room, and all of the Kwami’s looked it over, giggling with delight over the pockets and giving their approval. “We won’t be able to take everyone, but other than Tikki and Sass, who wants to come with us?” Surprising Marinette and Luka, Plagg moved forward. “I know he can’t really wield me since we don’t mesh well, but do you think you could take the ring with you? I think I’m supposed to go.” “What do you mean Plagg? You haven’t wanted to be active other than saying hello and eating some camembert since Adrien decided he needed a break away from all this?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow at the Kwami. “Something is different. In you two, especially scales over there.” Plaggs eyes narrowed at Luka. “I think my kitten is in this city, and you two have met him.” Luka and Marinette grinned at each other before confusion took over their faces again. “But what does that have to do with the gala?” “I can do some recon if I’m there.” “Alright then, that’s one for me.” Mari laughed and put a little clip with a black cat on the end on the edge of one of the pockets. “There are 5 in total not counting Tikki, and Luka can only carry another two besides Sass.” In the end, it was decided that Mari would have Plagg, Mullo, Trixx, Pollen and Nooroo in addition to Tikki. Luka ended up with Wayzz, Duusu and Sass of course. The others weren’t interested in going to the party and would rather hang out in the box or around the house.

***

Damian sighed and ducked around a column to get a moment to himself cursing the nosy people at the party in various languages. In his brief moment to himself, he began to notice that he wasn’t just feeling his own annoyance. Frowning in concentration, he turned to scan the ballroom, spotting them near the stage, talking to Jagged Stone of all people. He focused on them, and tried to be heard by just them across the ballroom. ‘I didn’t know you would be here.’ Both Parisians jolted, and looked around, spotting him in his little hiding spot. ‘Is there a reason you’re hiding instead of saying hello?’ Damian could hear the amusement in Lukas' voice. Both of his soulmates looked away and just quietly stepped away from Jagged, making it look like they were talking amongst themselves. ‘Yes, people are too nosy for their own good and they will ask more questions than I am prepared to answer.’ ‘Damian, we owe nobody an explanation for saying hello.’ Marinette chided gently. ‘Besides, Luka and I have mastered the art of getting people to leave us alone with just a look.’ ‘If you say so. Give me a moment.’ Damian straightened his jacket and made it seem like he’d been adjusting his wardrobe as he left the pillar. “There you are, I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Damian held back a grimace and turned to his Father. “Those camping trips I take once and a while? This is the man I go with.” Incidentally, the person Bruce was pointing to was Jagged himself. “Hell of a time getting away for both of us, but SO worth the quiet.” Jagged grinned and held out his hand. “By camping, Brucie means we go to my cabin in the mountains and sit around the fire pit complaining about life. Pleasure to meet you at last, I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” “Thank you sir, it’s nice to meet you.” Damian’s smile in return was a bit forced, but thankfully Mari and Luka came to the rescue. “Someone interesting, Jagged?” Marinette asked as they walked over. ‘How much do you want us to say, Damian?’ Marinette added silently, her eyes concerned over how stiff he was and how tightly he was holding his emotions. Damian relaxed slightly, his fake smile relaxing into something a little more neutral but real. ‘I am alright. I will explain to the others later, but perhaps if we can get a quiet moment with my Father?’ Both Luka and Marinette raised an eyebrow at the fact that he’d left out that he was a Wayne before but took it in stride. With little more than a glance between them, Luka put a gentle hand on Jaggeds arm, and pulled the man away, asking him a couple questions about the tour they’d just finished. The man was bewildered, but Luka and Marinette planned things behind his back all the time when they felt it necessary, so he didn’t do more than give Damian and Marinette a questioning look as he was led away. “That was.” Damian commented out loud, shaking his head. “Surprisingly easy for you two.” Marinette laughed, “We’d been working together before we knew, so it took little time to figure it out. Now, Luka pulled Jagged away so the three of us could have a private word.” She turned to Bruce, glancing around for listening ears. “We happened to be seated on the plane next to Damian and, well.” She gestured between them. “I’m afraid you will have to elaborate, Ms. Dupain Cheng.” Bruce narrowed his eyes at the two of them, his face visibly confused. “What she is referring to, Father, is that they are apparently my bonded.” Damian explained. “Both of them.” He added after a moment’s silence. ‘You will explain the work you did together?’ He asked Marinette silently. ‘Soon enough, it’s a rather long story.’ Marinette’s face didn’t even change when she answered, and she started talking to Bruce over the end of her own sentence. “Luka and I had known each other for years before we found out our bond, and we’d always known that there was supposed to be a third for us. However, as we were in Paris, and Damian was apparently here, that obviously made it so that we didn’t meet until on the airplane here.” “And how did you figure it out? Not that I’m not happy for you three, but I know my son, and he tends to be reluctant to even speak to strangers.” Bruce was fishing, and Damian knew it. Marinette seemed to be able to tell too, as she was unphased by his question. “Easy, he was exhausted and fell asleep on the plane leaning on Luka. When Luka needed to move and was panicking because he didn’t want to wake up Damian, he was obviously exhausted and seemed comfortable where he was, Damian responded to his silent monologue about the situation and Damian responded in kind.” Marinette giggled, mentally nudging him when she made an edit to preserve his dignity. ‘Thank you for not going into detail.’ Damian rolled his eyes and smirked. “I had thought I’d talked to him out loud, and promptly fell back to sleep, when they woke me again shortly before the flight was over, and informed me that I had not -in fact- spoken out loud.” He then surprised both his father and himself by reaching over to put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “They were kind enough to give me time to process and after I gave them my phone number, texted me only to give me theirs and let me process on my own after that.” “To be fair, we passed out and slept till almost noon after we texted you, so it wasn’t restraint on our parts, just that we were too tired to stay up anymore. Especially since we didn’t sleep on the plane.” Marinette laughed dryly. “That’s an eight hour flight.” Bruce commented in shock. “You two were awake the whole time?” “Well yes, we hadn’t been up all that long anyway, and with Damian sleeping against Luka, he wasn’t sure if Damian would be offended if he woke up to a sleeping man holding him. Luka’s a cuddler and even if Damian started it he didn’t want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.” Marinette shrugged. “If he was uncomfortable, why did he not simply move me to not be leaning on him anymore?” Damian asked, having realized that the only time he’d been moved was when Luka got up for the bathroom. “One, the only discomfort he had was not something that moving you would have solved, and two, we did.” She sighed, shrugging. “Every time he shifted you to be sitting upright, you just grabbed onto his arm and put your head back on his shoulder. And when he had to get up he tried a little harder and you got grumpy, but when he sat back down you were right there again. You were practically in his lap.” “And how many people saw this?” Damian asked with an internal groan. “If it gets put on the internet, I will never hear the end of it from the heathens.” “I think Luka and I were the only ones to notice, most everyone else was asleep.” Marinette reassured him. ‘I do have a couple photos and plan on one of them being your profile pic on my phone later.’ This was added as a teasing whisper in his mind and he internally groaned again. Luka broke into the conversation, ‘You have two guys inbound, tall, one of them is slender but muscled, the other slightly shorter and stocky.’ He added a look at where they were and what they looked at. “Grayson, Todd, what did you want?” Damian asked dryly as soon as they stepped close enough for him to hear their footsteps. “How did you do that, Demon Spawn?” Todd demanded as all three people turned to face the men who’d walked up. Marinette stiffened at the nickname, obviously offended at the nickname. ‘It’s alright, he says it because he cares.’ Damian reassured her, sending soothing emotions to her and Luka who’d been walking over as this was said. “I don’t feel like answering that question right now, Todd, but why did you come over here, this was a private conversation.” “Why did you and B need a private word with Jagged’s niece?” Grayson asked, frowning and looking between Bruce and Damian like he could figure out their secret. “That’s a conversation for home, Dick.” Bruce sighed. “And that’s when we decide to tell you, but it’s just something we needed to talk about before moving forward.” He glanced at Luka over Marinette’s shoulder, nodding at him to acknowledge that he’d walked back up. “Can you please not call her his niece? It’s rather awkward at this point.” Luka commented, putting his arms around Marinette’s waist. “She’s my soulmate, he’s my dad, it’s weird, you know?” That caught everyone’s attention, including Damian. “Wait, you’re Jagged’s son?” Bruce sputtered, his face astounded. “The way he talked about you, I figured you were like ten. Not an adult that was touring with him. He also didn’t introduce you as his son.” “I know, I didn’t grow up with him. My mom raised me and my sister, I didn’t really have any contact with him until I was a teenager.” Luka shrugged, “Doesn’t make it any less weird when he calls my soulmate his niece.” “Excuse you, I claimed her before you two even met.” Jagged laughed loudly, causing half the ballroom to look to see who was being so loud. “I think that gives me the right to keep calling her that.” “It’s still weird.” Luka shot back, shaking his head and leaning into Marinette’s hair. ‘This is why I pulled him away, he’s so loud about everything that the whole ballroom would know if he’d been part of it. You said you’d get made fun of if certain people found out.’ Damian smirked, looking down slightly, ‘Thank you, Luka.’ “Anyway, Luka, Marinette, these are two of my other sons, Jagged I’m sure you remember Dick and Jason?” Bruce pointed to each one in turn. “Wait, why does Damian call them by other names then?” Marinette wrinkled her nose a bit, trying to figure it out. “Damian… Has his own way of doing things. I’m surprised he doesn’t call you two by your last names.” Bruce admitted. “We never told him them.” Luka shrugged calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Okay, I’m confused, how do you all know Damian?” Dick asked, crossing his arms as Tim came to investigate what was going on. “For the love of… Short answer, they met on the plane here, the rest of it we will talk about at a later time and place, when Damian wants to share. That is the end of it, go back to the party.” Bruce grunted at the boys, glaring at them in annoyance while keeping the rest of his face in a neutral expression that he’d practiced for years. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” Jason threw up his hands and grumbled about people being touchy as he walked away. “The one day he’s not in a grumpy mood he has to irritate the rest of us.” Damian clicked his tongue in irritation and shook his head as Dick and Tim also drifted away with shrugs and curious looks thrown at the Parisians. “Well, why don’t you guys enjoy the party, we can talk soon. After I’ve had a chance to wrangle the whole family into not bothering the heck out of Damian over everything.” Bruce gave a small, slightly sarcastic smile and then softened. “Glad things are good though. I’m happy for you.” He patted Damian on the shoulder and walked away to join Jagged who was now talking with a few women by the refreshment table. “So… I take it he approves?” Marinette asked. “Yeah, I think he does.” Damian had the urge to hug his soulmates, but he contented himself with sending as much warmth and happiness to them through the bond as he could.

#mgi trope tussle #maribat #lukadaminette #miraculous fanfic #miraculous au #soulmate #dc

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haikyuuwaifu · 5 years ago

Text

Rockabye

Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, TW Child Abuse, TW Neglect, TW Alcoholism, TW Drug Use

Bakugo x F Reader x Shinsou Poly

Masterlist

The Return of Rei Todoroki| The Return 2| The Return 3

The Return 2

Y/N parked her car, unclicked her seat belt, and opened the door stepping out into the cool night air. Pulling her jacket around her, she pulled her phone out to text Katsuki; simply informing him of her location. Sliding her phone back in her pocket, she pushed the key fob walking towards the cafe, her car beeping locked behind her. Peering through the window, she scanned her eyes around the building until she noticed a familiar head of dark midnight hair huddle in the corner. Wrenching the door open, she stepped in.

Sliding her jacket off, Y/N slide into the booth across from Nemuri. The woman in front of her hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge her presence, and that was fine. She was fine with waiting until Nemuri was ready to talk. For the next hour, the two women sat in complete silence.

*A/N: This section will be written out in manuscript conversation form*

Nemuri: Sighing softly, she spoke; “I think...I think I’m ready to talk about it.” she whispered, eyes trained on the table in front of her.

Y/N: “What exactly happened Nem?” she asked, tracing her fingers softly over Nemuri’s interlocked fingers.

Nemuri: “I had planned to leave work early, and surprise Enji. I left at noon; got my hair done...I even stopped at the store to buy his favorites to make him something nice for dinner...It had been a while since we had any one on one time.” she mumbled. Taking a sip of her coffee she continued on, “I knew he would be in the office, until at least 6. I called his secretary to confirm that he was in meetings and made my way over to his place.” her lips trembled now as the memories moved to the front of her eyelids. “When I got there, I was met with noises, which was odd; because I knew the maids were always gone by 1130 on thursdays...” she squeezed her fists tightly, knuckles turning white. “I made my way further into the house, only to hear a voice to the left of me...there was a woman draped across the couch...i-in nothing but Enji’s robe...the robe t-that I a-always...”

Unable to finish her sentence, Nemuri’s body shook as she sobbed finally, letting the emotions spill over. Y/N slid out of her seat and over to her side pulling her into a hug. Stroking her hair she cooed softly, as she let Nemuri cry out her frustrations.

Y/N: “What happened next Nem?” she murmured softly.

Nemuri: sniffling, she continued on, “She asked me who I was...and what I was doing in her husbands home. I told her that I was his girlfriend and that they had been divorced for years...She just...she laughed at me Y/N. She laughed in my face and told me, that I was a fool and that she and Enji had still been fucking around for years...years!” at this point, Nemuri’s sobbing had ceased, but her body still shook slightly. “I was so angry, becuase god could he really do something like that to me? After everything we’ve been through together?” she asked burying her face in Y/N’s hair.

Y/N: Next to her, Y/N’s mind was running through every possible scenario of how she was going to beat Rei’s ass. Still stroking Nemuri’s hair she asked softly, “What exactly did Enji tell you about Rei Nem?”

Nemuri: “ He didn’t go into much detail about her, jus that she wasn’t the best parent and they had stuck things out for the sake of the kids...at least until Sho turned 18.” she answered, dabbing her cheeks with the napkin in front of her. “Why? Is...Is there something I don’t know?” she asked.

Y/N: “There’s a lot of things you don’t know Nem, and it’s probably best if I tell you, but let me get it all out before you ask your questions.” Y/N murmured moving back to her side of the booth...tapping her fingers against the table she spoke. “ I grew up in an orphanage, and as shitty as it was; I got lucky when I won the scholarship to attend school at Shoto’s school...I met Shoto when I beat these kids up for making fun of his scar...That scar was the result of Rei pouring hot water over him because he looked too much like his father.” she murmured eyes cast down towards the table. “I didn’t really know the extent of Rei’s abuse before I met Shoto, but after meeting him and his siblings; I could see the signs...Growing up in an orphanage full of kids who no one wanted, you knew what to look out for; and you knew you had to protect yourself...The Todoroki kids didn’t know those kind of life lessons.”

Y/N: “The first time I stayed over, Shoto was a little worried, I’d never want to go back. At the time Enji, spent a lot of time at work...he didn’t know how to deal with what was going on at home; so Dabi was the one who took the brunt of the responsibility before I came along.” she said, waving her hand towards the waitress. Pointing at what she wanted to order she continued; “Everything had been fine when I got there, and I had gotten a long pretty well with the siblings...and then the door slammed open and a drunk Rei had come home...Shoto tried to apologize, but I had told him it was fine. I wanted to see what was happening, so I could better understand my new friend.” “She was so drunk, she didn’t even know I was there; but I watched as the good mood quickly disappeared. Natsuo had shrunken into a corner of the room, attempting to make himself practically invisible, and Dabi had made his way towards his mother ready to reign her in. Shoto stood in front of me, trying to hide me from her scrutunizing gaze, but her eyes were focused on Fuyumi.”

Nemuri sat across from Y/N, her fists clenched as she listened to Y/N tell her about Rei.

Y/N: “She poked at her slight rolls, and called her a pig. She tugged at her hair and told her it was a rats nest...she said awful things to her child with a voice full of absolute hatred.” she declared fist clenched and her knuckles white. “That was the first of many times I was bared witness to Rei Todoroki treating her kids like shit...I would come over and she would be drunk or strung out on whatever drug she had gotten her hands on that day...There wasn’t a lot I thought I could do, I didn’t want to lose my best friend or the siblings I had grown to love...When something bad happened, I just convinced Dabi that we should leave the house for the day. Enji would give us his credit card and we’d go and find something fun to do...One day when I was 11...I wasn’t able to come over, there was an adoption event at the orphanage and I didn’t have a choice but to go. I wish I had skipped it.” she mumbled. “Maybe if I had, then things would have been different...I went to school the next day, only to be met by the principle and Enji...there had been an accident at the house the night before and Dabi was in the hospital...I had been informed on the way there, that Rei had come home high on LSD and hallucinating. She thought Dabi was a burglar and had thrown the pan he was using to cook at him. He had been knocked unconscious when she knocked over cooking oil, resulting in the kitchen bursting into flames...Fuyumi and Natsuo had been at the library and Shoto was at anger management therapy...”

Nemuri gripped Y/N’s hands tightly as tears started streaming down her cheeks.

Y/N: “Rei...She ran out of the house in a panic, as the fire continued to spread throughout the house...she left her child behind...to die in that stupid fucking fire.” she whispered voice laced with hatred. “It was by some fucking miracle, that someone saw and called the fire department right away...Dabi ended up suffering severe burns all over his body; and was attached to a breathing tube for months...I don’t think I’d ever been as angry as I was when Rei showed up to his hospital room, sober and unassuming as to how her son ended up there.”...

Y/N: “It took Enji and three security officers to get me off of her. I couldn’t tell you how it happened, but I couldn’t see anything clearly but Dabi’s bandaged body and the woman responsible for it.”

Nemuri: “Jesus, Y/N... that’s so awful!” she whispered, hands over her mouth; shock adorning her features.

Y/N: “Yeah well, not a lot could be done. As Enji’s wife she was entitled to half his shit...and her family had tons of money before the marriage...Enji only stayed on because the agreement said she’d get everything if he left her before the last child turned 18...she never even wanted kids...she just had them to trap Enji.” she murmured, taking a bite form the food set in front of her. “After the hospital, Rei made her dislike for me known strongly, but she didn’t abuse her kids anymore on the days I was around; which I tried really hard to do daily; but some things couldn’t be helped.”

Nemuri: “So what happened after that?”

Y/N: “For the next 7 years I looked after the Todoroki’s as best as I could. I convinced them to find things to do that would keep them out of the house, and I helped Enji learn how to talk to his kids...I suggested they attend family therapy without Rei...she was hardly ever home after a long discussion with Enji resulting in a tentative agreement that she would get whatever she wanted so long as she stayed away from them...and she had agreed. The older I got, the stronger I got and we had our run-ins from time to time. When I was 16 she found out Fuyumi was a lesbian and before she could go in on her for being an “abomination” I had her by the hair and out the door. I was bigger than I was at 11, so it hurt more...Rei made sure she and I were never in the same vicinity together so she could attempt to torture her children in peace; but I always found out.” “She would rat me out to the orphanage, but at that point they didn’t care what I did. I had my own job, I paid for my own things...I hardly even lived there anymore...”

Nemuri: “They must have gotten the divorce right?” she asked fingers playing with the thread of her jacket sleeve, remembering how she had met Enji a few days after Shoto’s 19th birthday, 6 years before.

Y/N: She nodded her head, “Enji had the papers drawn up and ready to push through the day Shoto turned 18...Rei must have forgotten her agreement, because she was absolutely livid; but it didn’t matter...with the threat of legal action and physical violence she signed them and she’s been gone ever since.”

Nemuri: “Then what the fuck is she doing here now? Six years later?” she hissed, fists clenched, anger for the Todoroki’s and anger for Y/N present. “How could she do something like that to her kids? How could you take on that kind of burden Y/N?”

Y/N: “The Todoroki’s are the only family I have Nem...and I would do absolutely anything for them. Anything at all...Without hesitation I would do anything for them, and in that moment they needed me. They were also there for me...when I was 17 and pregnant and I needed them. She came back, because she must have heard that Enji had plans to make YOU the next Mrs. Todoroki and wanted to scare you off, but I’m not going to let that happen.” she murmured waving down the waitress. “I’m gonna pay this check, and we’re gonna take you home.”

Nemuri: “He was going to propose to me?” she asked. Y/N nodded as she put the money on the table. “Take me with you...If you’re going to Enji’s I want to be there...to see how you handle things.” she whispered. Nodding again, Y/N stood up. “Let’s go then, Shouta and Hizashi are already there; but I doubt they’ve been much help in calming Enji down.” Y/N muttered, putting her jacket on and making her way out of the cafe.

-The Todoroki siblings had a pretty harsh life before Y/N. But as she said; they were family and she’d do anything for her family.

@dabilove27 @abyssmium @amarillyis @mushimoon14 @shikiry @therealwalmartjesus @bbymilkbread @kac-chowsballs @pepper-elaine @wineandionysus @loverofallthingsfoxy

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugō #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagine #bnha smau #bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #smau

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starktonyx · 6 years ago

Text

Let me show you I’m sorry - Peter Parker x reader (smut)

Word count: 3.2k

Request: Peter Parker imagine with some angst and smut? You can put some fluff if you want to. I don't have any specific idea. I totally trust you.

Description: After a heavy and painful fight with Peter, he tries to make it up to you with some reconciliation sex.

Note: I believe I went a little bit hard on the angst part but I really hope it´s what you wanted. I’m just going to say half of this is pain and the other half is filth, so enjoy this rollercoaster of feelings!

Masterlist

Things weren't the same anymore.

Peter was not the same anymore.

Ever since Tony Stark's funeral he had acted distant and cold, ignoring the world around him. You supposed it was normal, he had just lost another father figure and he just needed time to mourn.

Except, it wasn't at all how you thought it would be.

You expected to see him fragile and breaking down, because that's how most people mourn, but not him. You were scared when you saw no hint of sadness in him, just anger.

He was irritated all the time, talking back to May, not caring about school or his friends, not even talking to you, his girlfriend, even after you both came back from being vanished for five years.

All he seemed to care about nowadays was his damn spiderman patrol.

You tried to be supportive at first, everyone did, you knew how important being spiderman was for Peter, and you knew it was his way of disconnecting from his problems. But weeks went by and Peter kept ditching everyone for the patrol, getting home late and bruised, barely sleeping afterwards.

He stopped visiting your room after his patrols and rarely texted you back anymore. The days he went to school he avoided everyone, including you. You really tried to be there for him, but he always found an excuse to cancel your dates.

And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Because all you could do was watch how Peter slipped from your hands, how his love for you seemed to vanish more everyday.

You were loosing him.

So you had enough of putting up with his abnormal behavior, and prepared yourself to confront him about it. You went to his place at night, May had warmly welcomed you with a hug, and you could see the pain in her eyes caused by his nephew's actions.

You patiently waited in his room, sitting in his bed as hours went by. Your eyes focused on a trail of polaroids on Peter's wall, and you remembered all of the photos as if they were taken yesterday, yet the happy memories seemed painfully distant now.

Tears threatened to fall as you admired every single photo, they happened a long time ago yet you could still see Peter's love for you in them, and you wished you could feel it again.

Before you broke down you tried to distract yourself with something else in the room, and your eyes landed on his school backpack. It was thrown on the floor, totally untouched as you knew Peter had been ditching his homework lately. You sighed deeply when a noise startled you, and you saw Peter carefully crawling through his window without noticing you in the room.

2:34 am, and Peter was just getting back from his patrol.

"Hi" You whispered standing up, yet it was enough to alarm the boy's senses, and you saw his mask's eyes getting wide when he realized you were there.

"H-hey what ... what are you doing here?" He asked as he silently landed on the floor and took off his mask.

His messy curls almost distracting you, but you were still able to see his nervousness, as he fiddled his mask in his hands and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. It didn't take a genius to know he didn't want you there.

Like I said, it hurt like a motherfucker.

"I wanted to know if you were okay" You nervously started, taking a deep breaths. "I just ... I think you've been way too focused on your spiderman duties"

He just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

"You never had a problem with it before" His indifferent voice hit you harder than you expected, and in that moment you lost all nervousness.

Now you were just angry.

"Because you didn't act like an idiot before Peter! you didn't ignore my texts and calls like you do now, you didn't avoid me as if I had the fucking plague. This is not how a relationship works" You painfully ranted, hoping to get a reaction from him, but he just sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've just been busy with my patrol Y/N, you know that's important for me" He protested harshly and you bitterly huffed in response.

"And I'm not? I hate to be that girl but are you so blind to see how much this is hurting me? You barely acknowledge me anymore Peter and you don't even seem to give a damn about it!" You barked, pointing a finger accusingly at him.

"Y/N you don't understand this is not about you! I'm literally saving lives out there, I need you t–"

"No, you don't understand I need you!" You finally spat interrupting him, your voice threatening to break. "Two months ago half of the world was gone. We were gone. For five fucking years Peter"

"I understand tha–"

"No you don't" You interrupted him once again, shaking your head. "You don't understand how lucky we are to have a second chance, to be back here. How dare you throw that opportunity away acting like this?" Your voice was harsh, as you choked the lump in your throat.

"Yeah? At what cost did we get that chance Y/N?" He angrily questioned with a bright red face, not controlling his loud voice. "Because he sacrificed himself for this"

You knew all of this had to do with him.

"No, he didn't sacrifice himself for this. He saved the world for you to move forward with your life and be happy. He did it for you Peter and you pay him like this? Obsessing over your stupid patrol and ignoring the people who care the most about you? For god's sake, May is worried about you, Pepper has called in to check in, even Happy is concerned! Tony wouldn't have wanted this" You desperately cried, your brittle voice softening in the last sentence.

Your begging voice didn't seem to phase him, as he turned his back on you, resting his hands on the windowsill as he inhaled sharply.

"Don't you ever say his name again" Peter grunted, clenching tightly his jaw.

His dark voice scared you, he never spoke so hostile towards you. This is when you couldn't contain the tears anymore.

"Then I don't know what else to say to you" You mumbled choking a sob, hugging yourself with your arms. "I can't keep doing this Peter I ... I can't"

Peter's breath hitched when he heard your silent cries. He knew this was the part where he turned around and apologized, but his mind was so clouded by the anger that he just continued looking through the window, his knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping the windowsill.

And then he said something he knew he would regret later.

"Then leave" The words left his mouth so bluntly that even he was surprised by the lack of emotion in them.

The next thing he heard was a loud sob you couldn't keep to yourself, as you hurriedly scurried out of his room. The windowsill couldn't resist his strength anymore, breaking under the pressure of his hands.

"Peter why ... why did you do that?" May disappointingly asked standing on the door, she had heard all the loud argument and saw you leave crying.

Peter just half turned his body to close the door on her face with a web, and put back his mask on, ready to get out on the streets again and forget about everything.

•

He made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Peter repeated himself as he paced back and forth on your apartment building's roof, after he realized how big of an asshole he was with you and he needed to apologize immediately. Three days had passed since he stupidly let go one the most important people in his life.

It took him three days to finally snap out of his mourning act, his mind just processing how he had fucked up with everyone around him.

Especially with you.

He mentally cursed himself, as he took the courage to finally swing outside of your window, standing nervously on the emergency stairs. Your window was closed and covered by your curtains and Peter gulped harshly, you always had them open for him.

Well not anymore.

He noticed the dim light coming from the inside, signaling you were still awake. He took off his mask before softly knocking on the glass, breathing deeply when he heard your footsteps moving across the room.

You were paralyzed on your feet when you opened the curtains to find Peter outside your window, not that you expected anyone else knocking at it really, but you still didn't expect him.

After what he did.

Peter's breath hitched when he saw your face, pale but at the same time red from what appeared to be hours of crying. Peter mentally slapped himself, how could he allow himself to hurt you this bad?

He also noticed you were wearing only one of his shirts as a pajama, and almost smiled at it, it had to mean you didn't totally hate him. He watched you hesitantly open the window, the cold air of the night hitting your puffy face.

"What are you doing here" Your voice came out harsher than you thought and Peter was lightly taken aback by it.

But let's be honest, you both knew he deserved it.

"I ... I–I'm ..." Peter shut himself as he struggled to find the right words, suddenly realizing he didn't exactly have a plan of action for his apology. "Can ... can I come in?"

You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, his bloodshot eyes begging you to let him in. You inhaled sharply, moving to the side to let him in the room.

"Alright what now" You bluntly said, stranding in front of him with your arms crossed and hitting your foot repeatedly on the ground.

Peter tried to ignore your defensive position, he ran a hand through his messy curls to try to ease his anxiety, and decided it was best to just go straight to the point.

"I'm sorry" He blurted out, looking straight into your eyes.

You could see his eyes glistening in regret, you breathed deeply breaking the eye contact and looking to the floor, you were not going to give in so easily.

"Sorry about what" You insisted, you needed to hear if he finally realized how much he hurt everyone.

Peter shifted his weight on his feet, scratching the back of his neck.

"About everything" He started, sighing. "I'm sorry for acting like an asshole I just– I was so angry after Tony died because I should've done better, I couldn't stop thinking about it and I couldn't focus on anything else" He said, his brittle voice announcing he would start crying in any moment.

You suddenly forgot about your anger and left your stance, walking towards the breaking boy and cupping his cheeks on your hands.

"Peter you know his death wasn't your fault" You softly said. "You can't blame yourself for what happened"

Peter just gently rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes.

"But I can blame myself for acting the way I did" The boy mumbled. "I pushed everyone away, I even made May cry Y/n! and I made you cry, I've never done that before what is wrong with me?" Peter cried and you could only embrace him in your arms, hugging him tightly.

"Shh it's okay now Peter, we cried because we care about you. We just wanted to help you" You consoled the boy, softly caressing the back of his head to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, please forgive me" His begging voice made a few tears fall from your eyes from seeing him so hurt.

"I do, I forgive you Pete" You breathed deeply.

You stood there holding your embrace for a few minutes, having missed each other's arms. When you finally separated, it only lasted a few seconds before Peter eagerly attacked your lips. You immediately corresponded, melting into the kiss. It was salty, from the tears falling from your eyes. You felt him grab your waist, and you cupped his cheeks again.

The desperate kiss was heating up quickly, when Peter slipped his hands under your shirt, suddenly his suit becoming a barrier between his fingers and your body. He stepped away from the kiss for a second to press the spider symbol in the middle of his suit, loosening the fabric from his body and watching it fall to the ground. You took this as his chance to undress too, quickly lifting your shirt to take it off.

Peter bit his bottom lip when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra under the shirt, your panties were the only thing covering your body. This time he collided his warm body against yours, feeling your hard nipples on his chest and began kissing your neck. You let out silent whimpers as you ran your hands through his torso, yelping when he suddenly lifted you in the air. He climbed your bed, laying you gently in it hovering over your body and placing himself between your legs. "Peter–"

"Shh baby, let me show you how sorry I am" He mumbled hushing you, as he returned his mouth to your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin to give you some lovely marks. "Let me remind you how much I love you"

He began trailing the kisses down your chest, until he reached your boobs and began lightly nibbling on your hard nipples. You couldn't help gently tucking his hair, arching your back to give him a deeper access to your chest.

"Fuck Peter ... I–l missed you" You confessed, your quivering voice under his touch just boosted his ego.

"I missed my sweet girl too ..." He huskily said lowering his kisses to your abdomen, slowly getting to your wet core. "... and the way you taste Y/n"

He put his cold fingers over the fabric of your panties, hurriedly taking them off your body to finally have you laying naked in front of him.

"Oh baby" You finally slipped a pet name out of your lips, throwing your head back when his mouth vigorously attacked your pussy.

"Baby girl you always taste so good" He praised as his tongue worked magic on your clit, sending shivers through your whole body.

He lifted one of his free hands to massage your boobs as his face buried in your throbbing pussy, sucking hard on your sensible clit. You tangled your legs around his head, as they started to shake from the pleasure building up.

"Don't stop baby boy, please" You squirmed under him, he could only smirk between your folds.

He then used his other hand to shove two fingers on your pussy, making you gasp in pleasure when he began thrusting them in and out quickly.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You could only curse between moans, absolutely loving the feeling of Peter's tongue in your clit and his long fingers pumping inside you.

You started feeling the pleasure build up in your whole body, and you could only push Peter's head deeper between your thighs. He fastened the pace of his fingers, knowing you were close to getting off.

He was loving the way you moaned and squirmed under his touch.

And you were enjoying way too much the sounds Peter's lips made on your wet pussy, that it was enough to send you over the edge.

"Baby I'm ... I'm comin– oh" you couldn't finish your sentence as your orgasm ripped harshly through your body with a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Peter's mouth left your pussy with a 'pop', after proudly sucking on your juices when you orgasmed. You tried to recover your breath, as you felt him take out his fingers out of you and you immediately grabbed his hand to suck on his wet fingers.

"Damn babygirl, you're so beautiful when you come" He lowly said, feeling hypnotized as you kept the eye contact while cleaning his fingers.

You left his fingers to push his head closer to yours, his body straddling yours as you desperately kissed him.

"I need you" You begged into his lips, feeling his hard member still covered by his boxers, hard over your stomach. "Please fuck me Peter" You said one last time, playing with the hem of his boxers.

Peter smirked and separated from you to take his briefs off, sending them flying through the room. He took your arms and placed them over your head, holding them still with one hand as he lined up his twitching cock with your entrance with the other.

"Umm yes baby" You loudly moaned when he slammed into you, squeezing your eyes shut when he stretched your walls just right.

"Fuck, how I love your tight pussy" Peter grunted as he began picking up a pace, enjoying the view of your lovely tits starting to bounce with every thrust.

In this moment you both forgot about your your problems, enjoying the feeling of each other. The room was soon filled with your moans and Peter's groans, the sound of your skin clashing together joining the headboard banging on the wall.

You were so grateful your parents were out on an event tonight.

Peter let go of the grip on your arms still above your head, and with one hand grabbed tightly your waist, putting the other on the headboard to help him thrust into you. You took this as your chance to roam your hands through his chiseled torso, never getting tired of the feeling of his hard abs under your touch.

"Right there Pete– fuck keep going" You panted, throwing your head back when he began hitting your spot, already feeling the way your body asked for a release.

"You look so stunning when I fuck you" Peter whispered. "You feel so good Y/n" He continued praising as shivers went down his spine every time your walls squeezed around his dick.

Peter's words managed to send you over the edge, you arched your back when you came harder this time, your whole body shaking with Peter still slamming into you. He smirked when he felt you orgasm under him, his thrusts becoming sloppier when he felt his orgasm run through his body.

"Fuck Y/n baby" He grunted pushing his dick a few more times into you, until his cum completely filled you up.

You bit your lip feeling the warm liquid inside you, loving the way you felt it slowly fall from your sore pussy. Peter enjoyed the stunning view for a moment, until he finally laid down next to you.

The room smelled like sex now, your heavy chests going up and down with harsh breaths were the only sounds as you recovered from your highs.

"I'm sorry" Peter apologized once again after a few minutes of silence. You just sighed, moving your body closer to him to lay on his chest.

"I know" You mumbled as he gently caressed your hair. "Just promise me you'll talk to me next time, no matter what it is I'll be there okay"

"Fuck, I love you so much"

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 5 years ago

Text

Voicemail

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

-part 1-

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

—————————————————-

One moment Keigo was flying through cloud nine and the next he was falling faster than ever.

(Y/n) was the first one to break his walls. See the broken man through the believable facade portrayed by the media. She loved him, the real him, not the picture perfect model on the tv young boys and girls dream about and idolize. All his flaws and scars never repealed her for even a moment, she loved him unconditionally. She was the first to do so, the first to show him that he didn’t have to be perfect.

Keigo remembers when she shattered those barriers. Oh, how he cried. It was only a week until their one year anniversary. But, this was the first time (y/n) had seen him all battered and beaten from a fight earlier. No feathers on his back, nasty gashes on his face and arms, Hawks might as well have been fresh out of a human sized shredder. Really, he should have gone to the hospital, but he figured he could just handle the damage himself. He remembers being frozen in place when his eyes landed on her after just walking into their shared apartment. She should have been asleep already, yet there she was standing in the dim lighted hallway with the worry shining in those doe eyes of hers. Her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red as if she had been crying moments ago. Quickly, she scurried over to him scanning over his torn form. From there gently but quickly guided him to the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies.

He was sitting on a stool near the bathroom sink as (y/n) sat right next to him with her legs folded on the floor. The silence was deafening, no questions were asked. Hawks quietly watched her shaking hands delicately wrap one of the bandages around his wounded arm. Making sure the fabric was not to tight, but not too lose that it would come undone. Sighing, he reached the hand she previously wrapped and cupped her cheek, rubbing his ever so gently under her eye, causing her to stop her actions and place her hand upon his own, closings her eyes. She lowered her head as her shoulders started shaking ever so slightly with every sniffle and hiccup that came from her. Hawks used his other hand guide her face towards his wiping away freshly dropping tear that cascaded down her puffy red cheeks. It was only a couple for minutes before she broke the silence.

“I saw it on the news,” Her bottoms lip quivered more as she spoke.

“What did you see, my love?”

“Them hurt you,” She sobbed “It was all over the news, you were- you were thrown through the building and pummbled into the ground, the- then the power shut off and I did know if- I didn’t know-”

The poor thing couldn’t even finish the sentence, she was now curled over her knees sobbing into her hands in attempt to muffle her cries. Hawks was in shock, he knew she cared and worried for him, but apparently underestimated the extent at which it went. Never in his life has someone genuinely cried on his behalf, not even his so-called parents. This was the moment he broke down. This was the moment he knew she truly loved him and he truly loved her.

Shifting so that Keigo was now on the ground with her, he pulled her to his lap, rocking them both from side to side, as he burying his face in her hair. In this moment both of their hearts beat for each other and nothing could change that. He hadn’t even realized his own tears that were falling until she pulled back just alittle to stare into his eyes and wipe them away. There was nothing but love and care in those glazed over her eyes.

Hawks remembers sitting on the tile of the bathroom floor the rest of the night in eachothers embrace. No one in the rest of the world mattered, it was only them, both vulnerable to each other’s love.

She meant so much to him, she was like the feathers on his back, freeing and always there to lift him up. Everyone at the agency loved her, she was motherly to the interns and alway there to vent if someone needed to talk. She was a true blessing to all those around her. Time went on and there love only grew stronger.

Lately something had seemed off with Keigo, he was acting cold and distant, and not even he could pinpoint why. Maybe it was the stress of all the hero work piling up. Being the number Two Hero came with a lot of responsibility and a lot more work which he had to keep on top of. Keigo had been staying at the office later doing paperwork into the early hours of the morning for the past three days. And when he did return home (y/n) was always draped over the arm of the couch in her night time attire asleep. It was obvious that she was trying to wait up for him, but always seemed to fail. Shaking his head with a small smile at her silliness, he picked her up and brought her to bed. It wasn’t long before he joined her, but Hawks was always gone before she would wake up.

She would leave him encouraging texts and voicemails throughout the day, to which he never replied to. It seemed like they hadn’t even really had a real conversation in a couple of months. Every time she would try and reach out to her, he’d blow her off, avoiding any sort of confrontation. Keigo already has so much going through his head with all this league of villains stuff, the last thing he needs is another person giving him problems.

Today marked the 3 year anniversary of their relationship. It was a quiet day at the agency, so (y/n) came to visit. Of course a bunch of the women pulled her into the break area to gossip. They were all talking and giggling when he was walking by. Hawks stopped to listen at the door when one giggling in particular reached his ears making him smile. The ladies wanted juicy details about Hawks and his lover’s relationship. He couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his face hearing her stutter out haste responses obviously embarrassed by their questions.

A couple more questions were thrown around and he put his hand on the door getting ready to barge in and save his poor baby like the hero he was. Hawks was half way through the door when one of the ladies asked about marriage making him halt. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were on (y/n)’s as his smile slowly fell. He shifted his gaze to the ground as he backed out the door, the sound of a chair being pulled back followed by the hurried steps of his lover close behind him. Her hand reached out and grasped the hand in an attempt to make him stop, which was successful and he turned to look at her, his face void of emotion.

“They were only joking, you know,” She said, hoping to lighten the mood, but there was some sort of panic or desperation hidden in her voice, Hawks could hear it.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at her with a straight face. By the grace of whatever higher ups there were, his work phone went off signaling an emergency.

She squeezed his hand “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but know that I love you and I will listen if there anything you want to talk about when you come back, we can skip our dinner reservations and just chill at home if you want.”

“I can’t talk about this right now, ill see you at home,” He muttered, ripping his hand from her hold.

Keigo turned around, walking away from her, but not miss the shocked and pained look that spread over her face. As he walked towards his office, the employee’s mouths hung open in shock. With shame and guilt beginning to set in, Keigo quickened his pace to his destination, slamming the door behind him as he arrived. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as his hands tugged at the untamed locks on his head. Pulling himself together, Keigo grabbed his gear and headed to the destination at which he was needed.

The mission was a breeze, but he didn’t return to the office, instead he opted to clear his mind soaring through the night time clouds. He flew out of the city bounds and landed on a tree that stood miles away, facing the glowing outline of the city. Hawks sat on one of the sturdier branches leaning against the thick core it sprouted from and closing his heavy eyes.

What was his issue? What had changed to make him act so harsh? God, (y/n) probably hates him now. Can’t say he would blame her though, he’s been nothing but a jerk to her these past couple of days. Damn, he was such an asshole at the office. Ignoring her, snapping at her, pushing her away when she had done nothing wrong.

But that’s not what she thought. These past days all she could do was pick her own mind over and over again. This has been going on for an entire month, nothing has been resolved, it only seems to be getting worse. She tried staying up and waiting till he got home to talk to him, but he was always home so late. (Y/n) tried calling, but that never got anywhere. It was alway go straight to voicemail. The same old:

“Heyyyyy, sorry I can’t answer at this moment. If its urgent or you have chicken that you can eat/ just want to give me chicken call my bussiness number at (***)***-****. Talk to ya later.”

She would alway leave a sweet and encouraging voicemail, sometime she would ask when he would be home, or if he maybe wanted to meet her for food or something.

So now here she sits at 1am, holding the tiny wrapped box she was going to give him for their anniversary while tears streamed down her face. Stuffed inside is a pregnancy test, they always joked about kids before this issue started. She found out about two weeks ago, deciding to wait to give it to him today, or yesterday, since she could never really get a hold of him lately.

She can’t do this much longer though, it was really starting to get to her, maybe it was the hormones talking, but it hurts nonetheless. No matter how she twisted it in her head she couldn’t understand where they went wrong. Setting the present on the counter, she walked to their shared bed room so she could grab a couple of necessities for the night. As of right now she was planning on crashing at a friends house who was already informed of (y/n)’s current predicament. Rumi Usagiyama always knew how to cheer her up.

After stuffing the duffle bag, (y/n) wrote a little note and left it at the edge of the night stand before grabbing the car keys and heading out the door. Making sure to turn off all the lights and lock the door on her way.

Unfortunately, in her rush she left the small box neatly wrapped bright colors and a golden bow resting forgotten on the counter.

It was hours till Keigo finally got the courage to head home to her for the night, or morning, as it was past 1 am. It felt cold inside, it felt empty. Keigo didn’t like it. Normally (y/n) kept the kitchen light on as she would always try and wait up for him when he came home.

The further he walked in the more he panicked, (y/n) wasn't passed out on the couch. Uneasiness settled deep in his gut as he started searching the apartment in a frenzy. Heading towards their bedroom, he froze at the door frame seeing, it was empty, she wasn’t there.

He started yelling out her name, desperate for some sort of response while he searched every room. Keigo checked his phone, nothing. He called her, no response. Maybe, she was somewhere outside. Yeah, (y/n) loved going on early morning walks.

While rushing back towards the front door, a shiny gold sparkle caught his eye. It stood out of place in the dark kitchen. The glittery glow illuminated from golden ribbons wrapped around a package all connecting to form a bow on the top.

Cautiously walking over to the counter he picked it up, immediately eyeing a tag that had flopped to the side. Two fingers grasped it, flipping it from one side to the other. On the opposite side was written ‘To: Keigo’ in the beautiful handwriting that could only belong to (y/n).

His heart sunk as guilt started eating away at him. Pulling the ends of the ribbons, he slowly unwrapped it, taking the lid off the small box. At first he was confused, inside was just a bunch of tissue paper and some kinda plastic stick. When Keigo saw the 2 bright red stripes going down one side, it clicked. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

Keigo’s mind went blank as the world around him froze. Tears started racing down his now damp cheeks. God what has he done. After placing the stick back in the box and then shoving it in his coat pocket Keigo bolted to the closest window, phone in hand attempting to call her phone.

All calls went to voicemail. There was no sign of her anywhere. Keigo could feel his wings shake in panic and desperation. Two hours had gone by and there was nothing.

Where was his (y/n), where was his angel? The woman who put up with all his shit throughout the years. The woman who loved him unconditionally, even when she saw how truly broken of a man he was. The woman who worried for him, cared for him, healed him, knew him. The real him. The woman who was carrying their baby, the woman- the one he pushed away. The one who he ignored and made cry. The one he hurt.

He needed to find her, try to mend all his mistakes. Hell, beg on his knees for her to forgive him. Ask how he could make it up to her. Let him show her that he can be a better man for not only her, but their baby. Oh, god they were going to have a baby. Just the thought of the little chick, made his heart cry out of joy and love.

There was so much he had to say to her. So much time he wanted to make up for. He wanted, no, needed to hold her, encase her and their little chick away from the world in a cocoon of red feathers. But, first he had to find them.

Landing on the barren street he began searching on foot, choosing to call up a few other heros in hope that they had either seen her or would help search for her. No one had seen her, not even Rumi, her best friend, had heard from or seen her the whole day. The few heros that were awake in the early morning, including Endeavor and of course Rumi, went out to start looking for her.

Another hour went by and there was no news, at this point Rumi was using her phone to try and call her. As Rumi was calling, Keigo faintly heard the familiar tone of (y/n) ringtone.

It was faint, but if he followed its sound, it kept getting louder and louder, and almost seemed to be more distorted from its original sweet tone. He followed it right to the entrance of an alley. The ringing stopped signalling the reject of the call. Leading into the dark shadowy ally was a smeared red looking substance that glistened in the moonlight.

Rumi caught up to him, eyes following his gaze to the ground. She watched as her friend shakingly pulled his own phone from his pocket, calling (y/n). A lump formed in her throat as the ringtone of her best friend went off a couple feet before them as a light illuminated from the receiving device.

Neither of them could move as Endeavor came from behind them, witnessing the whole thing. Endeavor used his fire to create a light source, giving them a better view.

Before the heros was a blood splattered ground, all over the brick walls and objects on the ground. But there was not a source of where that blood might have come from. The reminisce of a duffle bag lay abandoned on the side next to a dumpster. It’s contents were scattered all around, ripped clothes and other items which blood splattered all over.

There was only one person who all there’s items belonged to. They all knew it. Especially Keigo.

He took a couple steps in stopping right before a bright screen in the center of it all. The device displayed warped images of the two of them on the shattered glass of the screen. Keigo could make out both of their faces, he was holding her on a bridge. Arms wrapped around each other, him kissing her blush covered cheek as she sweetly giggled.

Keigo fell to his knees in front of it. Rumi started wailing, yelling to (y/n) that this was not a joke, demanding she come out. Endeavor stepped to the side calling for backup and a forensic team.

Curling over his knees, Keigo started sobbing hysterically. His wings slumped to the ground shaking with every sob that racked through his body.

The phone kept ringing, as if it was mocking him. Ringing. Ringing. And ringing. Over and over again. Until it went on, until it stopped and caused his phone to go to voicemail. Her angelic voice came from his speake

“Sorry if I couldn’t answer right away, make sure to leave a message and i- hey! Keigo stop, no, Keig-,” “She obviously busy, if it is urgent call a hero or something,” “Keigo for God sake, give me my phone” “Leave a message or call later, i really don't care which,” “You dorky chicken leg, give it back!”

Then it cut out, ending the voice over. Her voice faded out, leaving his broken cries the only thing to be heard.

Keigo never moved, he sat there hurled over in the middle of the alleyway, wings splayed out over the ground.

Endeavor had to drag Keigo to his feet and haul him out of the way so that the investigators could get to work. He made Keigo sit on a bench by the front of the building next to the alley. A bunch of heros were trying to console Rumi through her mentally breakdown, as she cursed the world, threatening the worst to those who took her family.

Keigo stared back towards the ally littered with a team of investigators through blurry eyes. He felt his world come to an end. No damage he could or had taken amounted to his current pain. It squeezed at his chest and restricted his airways. He couldn’t control his muscles, everything ached from head to toe.

The one person who kept him from falling was stolen. Not even the wings on his back can keep him from falling into the cruel hell hole that is society.

Reaching into the coat pocket his coat pocket he pulled out the box, holding it in his lap. Tears once again spilling down his face. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. Someone took away his babies.

She always called Keigo her hero. She promised him that nothing would ever change that.

(Y/n) could be alive somewhere, the investigators came over and informed that there is no sign of a body, but a blood trail that leads to tire marks through one of the connecting alleyways.

Keigo is going to find her. He’s going to bring his babies home. Shower his angel in all the love she deserves. He’s going to fix everything.

Hands clutched the box in a tight grip as razor eyes narrowed at the alley. Keigo could feel his feathers sharpening from his state of anger. There was going to be Hell to pay. Blood to shed. Bones to break. May God have mercy on those who took (y/n), because Keigo will have none to give.

—————————————————————————

Edit: I’m not sure if I should just leave it there or make a part 2 so let me know what all y’all think.

#hawks x reader #bnha #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks #kiego takami x reader

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craftypeaceturtle · 4 years ago

Text

B is for Baby Time!

Summary: They finally get to meet the newest arrival for their family.

Note: Part of a series but can be read alone! The ABCs of their little family! Demus and Royality.

The beginning- A is for Arrival

Next part: C is for Choas!

They got the call at exactly midnight. The second it turned to December they had prepared everything ready in case the baby would be early; they would not run around like headless chickens when the moment came. They had a baby carrier filled with blankets and a change of baby clothes that stood guard over their front door. But the 10th of December passed without any update. Remus was particularly insufferable but then again Janus had his own special brand of impatience. But all of that fell to pieces when they finally got the call at midnight that their surrogate had gone into labour. The baby was coming.

Janus blanched as he violently slapped Remus’ arm to get him up. He got up and started storming down the stairs all while silently gaping at the phone. Remus slunked after him before it suddenly dawned on him why Janus would be panicking at a phone call.

The plan had been to sit at home and wait until the baby was born then drive carefully and calmly to the hospital. That lasted a good... 20 minutes? “Do you want to go and wait in the hospital?” Janus finally sighed. Remus’ fidgeting stopped for the first time since the call.

“Why? Do you wanna sit in a waiting room for hours on end?” Remus kept staring ahead.

“Well I don’t know about you, but I can totally just sit here for several more hours.”

“We...” Remus sighed and wiped at his eyes, “We should be making the most of this really. Our last night of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Okay then, go to sleep then,” Janus laughed. Remus chuckled.

“Okay, let’s get going shall we?” Remus got up and held out his curled arm like the gentleman he was.

“We shall... after you put actual clothes on. I’m sure the nurses don’t want to see your manky boxers,” Janus chuckled and pulled and flicked him with the waistband.

They launched themselves at the car and only just remembered to actually grab the baby carrier. Sitting in the hospital room both felt like a relief and horrifically underwhelming. There were here now! They were here ready for any and all news. No need to keep anyone hanging. They felt productive just sitting there. But also... Both of them were just sitting there. In their rushed on jogging bottoms and baggy jumpers, with Remus’ wild bed head and Janus’ own frizzy hair lying limply against his back. They were both shivering as the December weather leaked into the waiting room. “Just time to wait...” Remus smiled weakly.

An hour passed awkwardly. The second hour passed both quickly and also as painstakingly slowly.

Remus’ phone vibrated from his pocket:

Evil Twin Bro- Hey, you know lots of weird stuff about getting different stains out right?

- yep

-also it really isn’t that weird.

-it’s called being an adult.

Evil Twin Bro- Do you know how to get blood out of t-shirt material?

-is it dried or nah

-soak in cold water

-wash like loads of times

Evil Twin Bro- I’ll kill you if this doesn’t work. Also, why are you awake at 2 in the morning you maniac!

-could ask you 2

Evil Twin Bro- I asked you first.

-baby’s coming.

Evil Twin Bro- Wait really??????!!!!!!!!!

Evil Twin Bro- Congratulations!!!!

-haven’t got the baby yet. waiting 4 surro.

Evil Twin Bro- Are you at the hospital?

-yea

Evil Twin Bro- How long have you been waiting?

-like 2h

Evil Twin Bro- Woah, that’s rough. How you holding up?

-dunno

Evil Twin Bro- You don’t know?

-feel like I’m gonna vomit. but also excited.

-well I don’t know if it’s good vomit or bad vomit y’know?

Evil Twin Bro- I really don’t. What are you lot doing then?

-J fell asleep. I’m trying to save battery on phone.

-So just sitting here.

Evil Twin Bro- Do you want me to drop stuff off for you? Pat was planning this whole thing for when you lot got the baby. He was going to cook you lot some fancy dinner and take it to you three. So I don’t mind helping you out! I could give you some muffins (trust me you’ll start to get hungry) and I have an iPad with a few films downloaded so you won’t need wifi.

-jesus why cant you be like everyone else and send a sentence at a time

-we’re all goiufhgb

-Hello Roman. This is Janus. Yes, we would greatly appreciate you bringing some stuff.

Evil Twin Bro- Haha, no problem!

“I can’t believe you’re dragging him here,” Remus sighed as Janus wordlessly passed his phone back.

“Why not?” Janus answered honestly. His whole being looked dragged down by sleepiness. Remus shrugged and looked ahead. Janus usually put so much effort into his appearance. Even the most basic ‘going to the shop’ outfit was a dramatic black and yellow gothic Disney villain who actually did crimes look. But he was simply shrugged over in the chair. He looked sleepily up to him through his hair.

“Why was he even asking all that at 2am anyway!”

“You don’t want him to come?” Janus asked, Remus heaved a sigh and plopped his head on top of Janus’.

“I dunno... I think I’m just tired and panicky. It’s all good,” Remus muttered off to a whisper. He pressed a kiss to his hair and closed his eyes.

He didn’t actually sleep. He just wanted to stop all conversation. People continued bustling in and out and Janus managed to fall asleep again with his chin propped up against his chest. He was even letting out a steady stream of snorty snores. Remus kept his eyes closed hoping no one would try to start a conversation with him. Janus was the talker to other people of their relationship. He only opened his eyes when he felt a firm prod to his shoulder.

“Hey Reem,” Roman whispered before flicking his forehead.

“What do you want dickbag?” Remus answered without thinking. Janus thankfully stayed sleeping. Roman only gave a pity smile and held out his bag. He pulled out some muffins and bottles of flavoured water alongside the promised ipad covered in glittery space stickers. Remus was too busy dumping the bag on the floor to notice Roman trying to get him to stand up.

“C’mon.” He gestured to over where the reception was. Remus nodded heavily and gently prised himself from Janus.

Now that they were further away, Remus saw that another hour and a half had passed. “Woah, you took ages?”

“Yeah, I thought about waking up Pat and then you have no idea what a nightmare it was trying to find a 24 hour shop. Like it was so much harder than I thought!” Roman now spoke loudly with his on brand gestures.

“Right...” Remus fluffed up his hair and slumped into another chair. Hmm, just as uncomfortable as the other.

“You okay?” Roman lowered himself to his eye line, looking like he was talking to a spooked dog, “Like really?”

“Dunno. I-I just don’t know. I feel a bit all over the place to be honest,” Remus flung his head back, “What did you lot feel?”

“Pretty much the same,” Roman giggled, “Patton was a mess. I think it’s always one person does fine while the other has an existential crisis. That was definitely Pat. But he calmed down the second he got to see Logan.”

Remus nodded, not entirely sure if he was actually listening or just getting lost in the sensation of his heavy head tipping up and down. “Fair,”

“What’s going through your head right now?”

“Dunno... D-Do you...” Remus started before whipping his head to face the wall behind him, “do you think I’ll be like... I dunno a good dad?”

“Of course,” Roman slapped an hand on his shoulder. He was looking forward at the waiting room with an awkward wonky smirk.

“Okay listen. Let’s be honest. Being emotional and gross with you just feels weird. I’ve been fine with having a baby before this. This is purely me panicking right now. As you said, I’ll be fine. So we can we not do emotional conversation?” Remus laughed awkwardly but he lightened up once Roman relaxed as well.

“Oh thank god you said it!” Roman laughed and melted back into his chair.

“Why were you coated in blood in the middle of the night anyway?”

“I wasn’t coated in blood,” Roman gasped way too loudly which Remus cackled at. Roman blushed bright red and nodded at the concerned receptionist, “I got the most random nose bleed out of nowhere and I knew you were the entire person in existence who wouldn’t question me.”

“You make me sound like a total weirdo! I would question you!”

“But you didn’t!”

They settled into silence for a bit before inevitably Remus felt the need to speak, “How the hell did mum ever cope with twins? Like that seems like a lot...”

“Right?! Right after we had Logan, I think my mother’s day presents probably tripled in cost. She deserves it. Like all the same build up and worry but then you have another baby to come!” Roman shook his head.

“Aren’t babies are fairly gross as well?” Remus grimaced.

“Oh yeah! Don’t be put off from it! Oh, I feel so awful but the first time I saw Logan my first thought was ‘ew’. They don’t look anything like babies at first. Like Logan was blue with a traffic cone shaped head.”

“Their head is all fragile and mouldable. Janus made sure to show me pictures of newborns,” Remus stared off into nothing before turning to him with his signature smirk, only a little more tired, “But I am so telling Logan you thought he was an ugly baby.”

“Ahem,” Janus stood before them with an expectant look. Remus smiled and held out his arm which Janus jokingly shoved aside to sit down on the chair, “Hello Roman, I’m guessing you’re responsible for the pile of stuff that was at my feet.”

“Yep! How are you doing?” Roman smiled awkwardly.

“Tired but that’s to be expected. Are you staying long?”

“No, actually that’s a good point! I really shouldn’t stay out longer. Pat will actually murder me for butting myself in,” Roman stood up with an exaggerated old man groan, “But... please text when you finally say hello to the little guy! I expect pictures!”

Once Roman left, they wandered back over to their stuff and settled into a long night. Janus tried to stay awake. He knew that Remus was having a freak out. You would think it would be easy with the bright harsh lighting in the waiting room and the constant buzzing of conversation. Yet, his head bobbed lower and lower before Remus finally guided his head to his shoulder. He really tried but the tiredness and mix of emotions left him helpless. Remus only smiled at his useless husband before settling himself into Roman’s ipad. He settled into the Incredibles without much else to do.

It was 5am when Remus saw the husband of the surrogate walk over to them. He didn’t think about it has he flung himself upwards, flinging Janus wide awake. The guy looked exhausted. “Hey, Remus and Janus?” He asked, thoroughly mispronouncing Janus, with his hand held out. Remus nodded awkwardly before thrusting a still waking up Janus at him.

“Yes, hello.” Janus shook his hand firmly.

“Hey so the baby’s arrived,” He spoke softly as he walked back into the winding corridors he emerged from. They quickly followed after him, “He’s 6lb and about 20 inches. A little small thing but all healthy and average.”

“Aw, that’s all good to hear. Congratulations,” Janus sleepily smiled.

“Thanks but I think I’m supposed to be saying that to you two!” The guy chuckled awkwardly before he opened a door for them.

Inside was the mother looking absolutely exhausted, curled up into her pillow with her frizzy hair thrown about the place. Janus subconsciously flicked his hand through his own hair, only now realising that he never brushed it before coming out. Ah well, not like anyone was looking their best for the demon of the baby that woke them all up. And of course there was the star of the show.

The baby was fussing a clear plastic crib looking thing, his reddened arms flinging around with his tiny little feet occasionally kicking. His face was screwed up but at least he wasn’t crying. He was simply laying there. The little boy that would change everything.

Janus managed to pull away from the sight and say something to the mother. Remus deserved the first moments with their son.

Remus looked at the mother but she was busy talking so he quietly shrugged before holding his hands out. It felt bad. They baby was clearly still fussy but quiet. What if picking him up set him off? But his hands were also hanging over him now. Sighing, he gently lowered his hands so they just about touched the tiny baby. He was warm to the touch and Remus grimaced at his thoughts that erupted from that. Maybe it was just because he was in a warm room. It felt like he was five years old all over again. It was like when a relative you barely know has a baby and just dumps the baby in your arms because it’s cute but you have no idea how to hold this fragile floppy new human.

The baby sniffled at feeling his hands slowly worm underneath him but Remus then swiftly took hold of him and brought him to his chest, quietly shushing him without thinking. Thankfully, he settled down instantly. He was somehow both tiny and way heavier than he thought. “Heya little fella,” He cooed as he tried to uncurl his fist. The baby’s tiny little fingers uncurled and pressed back against his own finger.

“He’s gorgeous,” Janus sighed as he came up behind Remus.

“Aw, he is. What are you guys naming him again?” The mother quietly asked.

“Virgil,” Remus answered but he kept his eyes glued to his baby. Janus smoothed his hand over the baby’s head.

“Oh that’s a unique name!” The mother chirped.

“Has two people with unusual unique names, it only felt appropriate,” Janus muttered but his focus was completely enraptured by the baby, “Reem, do you mind doing the last of the paper work, then we can leave you all to recovery.”

“Cheers,” The father smiled awkwardly. Remus held out the baby and graciously lowered him into his arms. He perked up when he felt Remus press a kiss to his cheek, god he was clearly felt so sappy today. Not that he could really blame him.

They brought the baby carrier into the room ready to take him home and of course his eyes caught on their supplies. They brought a infant onesie- the cutest and non-halloween themed one they bought- but yet Janus frowned at the thought of trying to wrestle this baby into clothing. He looked much more comfortable pressed to his chest that he did lying down but he still looked like he could be seconds away from crying again. Of course, he couldn’t even begin to understand how stressful birth must be. The poor thing. He awkwardly bent backwards and grabbed the same blanket they bought about a month ago. Despite how much he tried, he couldn’t get out the black marker stain. It was just the first blanket they grabbed when preparing. Obviously. Of course. The first thing they grabbed. He grappled with the baby to gently cocoon him in the purple blanket. The spider web spiral sat in the middle of his back making him look like their little spider sitting in the middle of his purple spider web.

He didn’t track when Remus came back in. He didn’t even think to keep up conversation with the biological parents. All he knew was that he was slowly stepping back and forth while pressing his face into Virgil’s own squishy cheek.

Their little baby Virgil.

#sanders sides #My writing #remus sanders #Janus Sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #family dark sides #fanfic #fluff #family #demus #dukeceit

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blushoseoks · 5 years ago

Text

GREY AREA (M) 14

“And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.”

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: mature, heavy angst

genre: soulmate!au, slowburn

words: 1,752

chapter index

Cherry blossoms bloom from their sprouts and envelope the trees above where you lay, illuminating the already orange-red leaves with even more color.

What a shame, echoes in your head, they’ll be dying soon.

“Hey, Y/n,” a voice fills the surrounding air shared between the three of you. Looking away from where your eyes had been focused on the branches above, you turn your head towards Seokjin, cocking an eyebrow indicating for him to continue on.

“Have you heard from Jungkook lately?” The air in your lungs lets out as he voices his question. “He’s been a bit hard to keep in contact with.”

You part your lips to let your sigh escape silently, lifting a hand you rush it through your hair, head moving to glance back upwards at the blossoms, shaking your head in the process of your statement. “No.” You say. “I haven’t.”

And it wasn’t a lie, you had not heard from Jungkook in over a week, not since the night of the party. Texts you sent went unreplied to, but certainly were read if the little R indicated anything at all. You had attempted to talk to him once after class, only for him to all but run out of the room before you had the opportunity to even approach him.

During the day you had seen him in Sociology, the younger looked worse for wear. Dark circles littered the space underneath his eyes, his brown hair went unkempt, and a blank face he had been sporting.

It had been odd, you noted, seeing Jungkook with anything but a smile.

Whatever had happened to Jungkook, was enough for him to completely isolate himself.

“Hm.” Seokjin says, lips moving to curl to the side as if in deep thought. “Yoongi says he hasn’t really been at their apartment all that lately either.”

The mention of the aforementioned causes another deep sigh to slide past your mouth.

You hadn’t spoken to or even seen Yoongi since the day after the party, he had not shown up in Literature - which hadn’t really surprised you all that much. And the text he had sent you that night was the first and last you had received.

“I’m sure he’s just busy.” Namjoon voices a moment later, eyes moving from the words in his book to stare at his boyfriend, and then to where you lay in the grass. “You and Jungkook seem to have gotten closer lately, has he said anything to you? Is anything bugging him?”

And that’s just the thing- you weren’t sure. Memories of the party were still coming back, bits and pieces were making themselves known little by little - but many parts were still missing. You couldn’t be sure that Jungkook hadn’t warned you that he may be busy as of late, you couldn't be sure that Jungkook didn’t mention if something was bothering him.

Luckily for you, Seokjin cuts in before you have to think of a response.

“--But that’s the thing, even when Jungkook is busy he’s never been one to just cut off all contact.. That’s more of a Yoongi thing.”

There’s a moment of silence as you and Namjoon try to search for answers. Neither of you were that close with the younger, therefore neither could offer a logical reason for his sudden radio silence towards not just you - it seemed, but the entire friend group.

Seokjin lets out a distressed sigh, in which Namjoon’s hand immediately moves to run through the older’s pink locks. “I’m sure he’ll come around.. When he’s ready.”

Yeah, you say silently. Hopefully.

Sunday [10:39 PM]

You:

Hey, I’m sorry for not messaging you sooner.. I’ve been asleep all day. What happened last night? R

Tuesday [1:12 PM]

You:

Hey, I had a question about the assignment due. Do you have time to meet for lunch? R

Thursday [2:15 PM]

You:

Did I do something wrong? R

“-- Alright, what is it?”

You glance up from where you had been absentmindedly thumbing through the same messages you had been staring at for a week straight.

“What?” You mumble out, eyes finding Yoona who sits at the opposite end of the couch.

“Dont ‘what,’ me.Tonight was supposed to be a girls night, but I’ve spent the entirety of it looking at you wallow at your phone.. So fess up, what is it that’s got your undies in a twist?”

It takes a moment for you to soak in her sentence, lips parting around no words as you contemplate whether you should indulge her or keep it all to yourself.

Part of you felt guilty. You had promised Yoona an explanation for your disappearance the night and day after the party, and instead you were repaying her friendship with a half-assed night. With not an ounce of your attention.. The situation with Jungkook was driving you crazy, having someone upset with you for no known reason was something you were unfamiliar with.

You were sure you had plucked a strand of grey from your hair.

A grey hair!

Never in your life had you felt the stress you had, ever since Jungkook had started to avoid you.

Nevertheless, you let out a soft breath.. “I told you, Yoona.. I still don’t remember everything that happened that night.”

Her eyes narrow at you skeptically, silently letting you know that she didn’t fully believe you, not that you could blame her - even if you did remember the events of that night, the chances of you telling her were slim to none.

“Okay fine.” She says, eyes looking like they’re about to roll out of her head. “But tell me about what happened when you woke up.”

You pull your legs up onto the couch, arms hugging around your shins as you rest your chin on your kneecaps.

“To put it bluntly, I woke up in Yoongi’s bed.”

It could be described as comical - the way Yoona’s eyes almost bug out of her head.

“Wait..” She screeches, “Yoongi’s?” She asks, a face akin to horror shown obviously around the curve of her lips.

You decide to ignore her confusion, having no energy to explain.

“I had no recollection of how I got there. None..” You shake your head, “Then as I was leaving their apartment, he shows up.”

“Wait.” She says, still appalled. “Yoongi’s bed? Like - the one that isn’t very friendly -- has sort of a resting bitch face? Hardly talks? That Yoongi? His bed?”

“Yoona,” you say, “focus.”

Her lips form around a silent o, as she tries to take in the information handed to her. “Okay..” she urges you to continue. She gathers her legs, bending them behind her so she can sit on the back of her knees.

“Anyway,” you start, “he offered to buy me food since I hadn’t eaten in hours, and I accepted, thinking he could give me some information. We went out to this little diner.”

You watch as her lips purse, her eyes pulling together.

“So, did you ask him how you came about ending up in his bed?”

“I did.”

“And?”

You let out another sigh. “He said he found me asleep in some bedroom at the party.”

She’s silent for a moment, you watch as the confusion continues to spread across her face.

“Any idea whose?”

You lift your shoulders upwards in a shrug. “Some friend of Jungkook’s.. Yoongi says he found me asleep with Jungkook.”

She lets out a breath, one that seems a little like relief.

“Alright, that, I’m not surprised by.”You want to scold her for making light of the subject, “-but I am confused as to why Yoongi took you to their apartment and not your own. And why he didn’t leave you alone with Jungkook?”

You shrug, letting out another sigh. “I asked him, he said he wanted to make sure that I was safe.” Your eyes fall down to where you’ve interlocked your fingers together, lips parting as you recount the story Yoongi had told you.

The realization that he had wanted you safe, brings the smallest of smiles onto your lips.

In a small voice, you speak, “he said I didn’t have my key on me and he didn’t know if Hoseok and Taehyung would be home to let me in.”

You watch her teeth bite her bottom lip as she’s silent for a few moments - moments that for some reason, put you on edge. Your anxiety raises a little bit. She studies you - expressionless. And then after what seems like minutes, she finally speaks, thumbnail brushing across her bottom lip.

“Alright.. Hear me out, okay?” Her eyebrows uplift, you swallow the building lump in your throat, but nevertheless nod.

“Remember how I told you I thought Jungkook had a crush on you, and Seokjin basically confirmed that?”

You nod. recalling the conversation that had revealed that truth.Seokjin had basically confirmed it, and you were still trying to figure out how that made you feel, nevertheless whether at all it was possible or not.

“Well, you started the night out in bed with Jungkook-” you grimace- “do not give me that look, I’m not judging just stating facts - but, you ended up in Yoongi’s bed. So let’s say that Jungkook wakes up to find you gone, he panics and tries to call you, no answer. Then, he gets to his apartment and for some reason goes into Yoongi’s room - and sees you in Yoongi’s bed..”

She trails off suddenly, hand moving to steady her chin as her elbow digs into her thigh.

“Maybe he thinks something happened between you and Yoongi, he’s either jealous or angry, and that’s why he’s behaving towards you the way that he is.”

You take a moment to soak in her words.Contemplate whether it made sense or not. The thought of Jungkook completely ignoring you due to his own assumptions didn’t make a lot of sense to you, it didn’t seem characteristically accurate for him to do something so petty. And, if you remembered correctly he hadn’t attempted to call you that night nor the next morning.

“I’d like to think that Jungkook knows me better than to--”

You’re interrupted by a well manicured finger swaying in the air. “Baby, when it comes to feelings all logic is tossed out the window.”

You unravel your arms from around your legs as you allow yourself to relax into the back of the couch, head moving back and chin tilting so you’re staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t like that.”

“Most of us don’t.” Yoona says around a melancholy snicker.

You let your eyes fall on your female friend. “What do I do now? He won’t answer my texts and he all but runs whenever he sees me.”

You watch as she visibly contemplates this for a moment, pink tinted lips rubbing together.

“Maybe this is something he’ll come to you with.. Eventually.”

“So I give him time?”

The thought of not talking to Jungkook for even longer makes something swell up inside of your chest. Something twisted and revolting. Something you cant quite pinpoint.

She nods, moving a hand to rest over your own, as if she can somehow view the inner turmoil this causes within you. “Sometimes time is the only thing a person truly needs.” Her voice is soft, comforting.

And though she is speaking about Jungkook, her words resonate with you.

If Jungkook needed time - you’d give it to him, just like you had done the same with Yoongi, even if it made you feel sick inside.

You hadn’t known Jungkook for long, but the boy had seemed to wrap himself around a place in your heart.

If only time could explain why the knot you had felt in your chest for a week hadn’t disappeared but only intensified as the days went on..

[a/n] it’s been a long, long, long, long time. :( i am sorry this is little and short compared to past chapters, i just thought you guys deserved something. i love you, still. <3 as always, feedback is truly appreciated... if anyone is still reading or still there.

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #btsfanfic #fanfiction #bangtanfanfiction #bangtan fic #angst #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic

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xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

Text

house of cards | knj x reader chapter three: now

summary: you already know how this is going to end. that’s not going to stop you from doing it anyway. pairing: namjoon/reader word count: 7.2K rating: 18+ genre: smut with feelings| idol!namjoon warnings: slow burn, angst, pining (a lot of pining OKAY), sweet to start, smutty to finish

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03

*****************************

A week after Namjoon’s out-of-the-blue text message, he sends another. It’s laundry day, and you’re busy folding clothes at the laundromat down the street from your tiny apartment in Seoul when you see his name come up on your phone. You drop the shirt you’re folding and immediately pull up the text.

can you meet me in two days? [ 2:07 PM ]

Two days? You have a thousand questions you want to ask, but you exercise enough self-control to keep your response short and straightforward.

you: yes [ 2:09 PM ]

His response is immediate.

not in seoul. out of the country [ 2:09 PM ]

You assumed he was talking about getting together for coffee or maybe a drink. You didn’t expect him to ask you to get on a flight and to where? You sigh out loud to no one in the empty laundromat. The truth is, every fiber of you wants to see him and you’d be willing to fly anywhere. No use in denying it.

you: where? [ 2:10 PM ]

It takes a few minutes for him to respond.

i need to get back to you [ 2:10 PM ]

you: okay [ 2:11 PM ]

You stare at the clothes tumbling in the dryer for a moment, in a daze. He’s still thinking of you. Knowing that alone is enough to make your heart pound, but this? Him asking you to meet him out of the country in secret? That makes you so nervous you start to sweat.

*****************************

You’ve had a lot of time in these past few weeks to think about what you want to say when you’re alone with Namjoon. Without a job to occupy you, without friends to distract you, you’ve managed to get ridiculously inside your head over this entire debacle.

Those thoughts all fly out the window the minute you see him again.

He’s seated in a private room in the back of this very small restaurant, wearing an oversized sweater and black rimmed glasses. He looks up from the menu as you walk in, stands when he sees you and looks as though he’s just walked off the page of a magazine. It takes you a moment to realize you’re holding your breath.

“Hi,” he says, mouth curving into a small, apprehensive smile. You answer with a reassuring smile of your own. “Hi.”

He motions for you to take a seat and helps you settle in. From this side of your table, you can take in the large window behind him, the picturesque view of this rocky island. It’s cold outside and the wind is whipping waves against the coastline. If he looks like a magazine spread, the view outside is the postcard. Both are just a little too perfect and you feel a little out of place.

“Thank you for coming,” he says quietly. You nod, stomach in knots.

“How did you manage this?” you ask. It couldn’t have been that simple for him to get away from so many prying eyes. It’s a miracle he made it out of Korea alone, without handlers.

Namjoon says nothing for a moment, waits for the server who is quietly filling your water glasses to finish and move on. He waits until she is entirely out of the room before speaking.

“It’s a long story. Only one person knows,” he admits, grabbing a bottle of wine from chilled carafe at the end of your table.

“Yoongi?”

He quirks an affirmative eyebrow at you and smiles as he pours you both a glass. “Yoongi. Though Jin is the one who told me about this place. He came here to fish one time and said it’s the most privacy he’s had in years.”

He looks as though he wants to say more, but the server enters this tiny private space again to ask if you’re ready to hear the food presentation. You don’t miss how Namjoon’s body tenses, how he sits quietly, politely, never looking her in the eye as he asks for a few more minutes. Your chest tightens when you think of how much personal risk he is taking being here with you right now. Any stranger with a smartphone and a social media account could expose him, expose you both and embarrass him and the group.

He waits for her to clear the room again before speaking.

“They knew about our…” he pauses to choose the right word, “friendship early on. Someone saw me coming to your room one night.”

You swallow a lump in your throat and straighten your shoulders. “Oh.”

“I only found out about that later,” he says, meeting your eyes with his. “I had no idea at the time. Please believe me.”

You nod slowly. Just talking about your firing rehashes the anxiety of that day you had to face Bang PD and hear those words. You take a deep breath in and out.

“I do.”

“I made mistakes,” he continues. “I was not as -- careful -- as I should have been. And...and I’m so sorry,” he finishes.

You blow out a breath. It feels like you’re both at fault and somehow not at fault at all. Nothing ever happened.

“I knew what could happen,” you say carefully.

“And besides, what’s done is done.”

Namjoon says nothing for a moment, works his fingers back and forth on the stem of his wine glass. An awkward silence stretches for just a beat too long.

“So…” you start, “You asked me to come here to...apologize.”

You wish you didn’t feel a dull pang of disappointment at the idea that his guilt is what brought him all this way to see you. You could almost laugh at the stupid hope that you’d allowed to blossom in your chest, at the idea that he wanted more from you than closure and the assurance that you didn’t blame him for blowing up the incredible opportunity you had. You pick up your wine and take a drink, just to give your nervous hands something to do.

“Yes,” Namjoon admits, ”But I also…”

He stops short as your server enters the room again, this time with food. You watch, numb, as she places two beautifully plated salads down and quietly slips back out of the room. She’s clearly figured out that you both want privacy, and is doing her best not to be intrusive. You stare down at the food, aware that you haven’t eaten in hours at this point, but suddenly feeling as though you have no appetite.

“Yes,” he starts again, once she leaves. “I wanted to apologize. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about what happened to you and,” he sighs, “I feel responsible.” The look on his face is hard to read. Regret and guilt and something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Well, you’re not,” you say, more sharply than you’d intended. You’re a big girl, you made your own decisions, actions have consequences. You open your mouth to say just that, but he cuts you off.

“-- I wanted to see you.”

Your stomach flips. He sits back, scrubs a hand across his mouth and meets your eyes with his.

“One time, Hoseok really like this girl that came to work for us. She really liked him, too...and then one day, she was just gone.” He picks up his wine glass, takes a drink, shakes his head at the memory. “He was furious. Telling me he was sick of not being able to have normal relationships. Telling me he was sick of having to keep secrets,” he sighs. “And I was there listening, but acting the part of the leader. Telling him that this is the way we have to live right now. That we have to follow the rules or one of us is going to slip and do something that hurts the entire group.”

You nod sympathetically, heart aching for Hoseok and for Namjoon and for them all. The kind of pressure they’re living under could break even the most disciplined person.

“But now,” he says, looking directly into your eyes, “I know that some things are easier said than done.”

Your cheeks heat. You want to ask him to elaborate, to be clear about whatever it is he’s trying to say, but your tongue feels thick and all you can do is stare back.

Namjoon clears his throat, looks down at his plate. “We should eat,” he says. “Wine hits me harder than beer.”

*************************

You’re glad for your warm sweater and coat tonight, because the breeze coming off the water is this close to freezing. The sun had set by the time the two of you finished dinner and Namjoon suggested you could walk along the shoreline for a bit. You’d tried not to let your mind wander to thoughts about how this night might end.

He’d booked you both rooms at a nearby bed and breakfast within walking distance of the restaurant. At this hour, the island looked deserted, with only a handful of lights coming from homes along the coast and a few boats on the water. You could almost believe the two of you were alone out here. You wish that were actually the case.

You spend a few minutes walking in relative silence, letting the air hang thick and heavy between you. It feels like there’s so much he wants to say and doesn’t. You feel a wave of frustration building inside you the longer the silence stretches on.

You walk ahead of Namjoon when you spot a cluster of rocks large enough to climb. He stays on solid ground while you maneuver your way to the top and only smiles and shakes his head while you try to wave him up with your hands.. The moon is high and bright tonight -- so even without the sun you can see past a row of docked boats and into the open water. You have a clear view of a lighthouse towering over the coast across the way.

“You should come up here,” you call down. “The view is better.”

“The view I have right now is pretty great,” he teases, looking up at you. Your breath catches in your throat and you look down at where he stands with hands in his pockets, a soft, dimpled smile on his face.

It should have been endearing, that tiny flirtation. It should have made you smile.

Instead it makes you furious.

Your patience cracks as months of tension and frustration come to a head. Whatever this is, you’re sick of it. You’re tired of hovering between sentences and trying to decode innuendo and all of a sudden you’re fed up with this entire situation.

“Don’t say that,” you say icily, standing to get down from your perch.

Namjoon holds out a hand to help you down, but you refuse it. “I’m sorry,” he says as you wrap your arms around yourself and walk away. He follows. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

You go faster, to where you’re not exactly sure, but at this rate your blood is boiling and you need to walk it off. You can see him following out of the corner of your eye.

“Wait --” he calls out.

You round on him, eyes flashing with outrage. “Stop talking. I’m tired of it,” you seethe, and his eyes grow round with surprise. You can’t blame him for being taken aback by your sudden anger, but now you’ve started pouring out your frustration and it feels like you can’t stop. “Don’t say what you think I want to hear and don’t say things you don’t mean.” The hostility in your voice takes him by surprise. If you weren’t so angry, you’d have to laugh at the confused look on his face.

“I d--”

“Why am I here tonight?”

“I wanted to see you,” he says, defensively. “And you said you felt the same.”

“Why do you talk like you want something from me and never come out and say it, huh? Why do you make it seem like you want me and never act on it?” You turn away from him, start to walk ahead of him on the shore again. He follows close behind.

You stop suddenly, whirl back on him again.

“Why have you never kissed me?” you demand. “You look at me like you want to kiss me and you never do,” you stop yourself for a moment, take a deep, steadying breath. When you hear your voice again, you’re glad that it sounds more calm.

“Why are you doing this?”

You gesture around at this beach, at this place you’ve agreed to meet him.

Namjoon stares off into the water for a moment, purses his lips like he’s debating how much he’s willing to share with you. You shake your head in disgust and turn to leave.

“Wait.”

You stop. He makes up the distance between you in a few long strides and gets close -- so close to you that you stop breathing for a moment. He leans over you, body towering and near enough for you to feel his warmth.

Here, in the dark, he reaches out his hand and tips your chin upwards with his fingers. He forces you to look him in the eye.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, voice low and dangerous. A shiver spreads across your back. “But if I start, I don’t think I can stop.” His fingers stay firm under your jaw and you feel your breathing start to get erratic as he pins you with his gaze.

“And that’s not going to be enough for me. Because I’m going to start kissing you. And then I’m going to ask you to come back to my room,” he refuses to break eye contact. You swallow thickly as his words trickle over you.

“And then I’m going to spend the next 8 hours doing everything I’ve fantasized about doing to you for the past six months.”

The jolt of arousal that shoots straight up your spine is so strong your knees nearly buckle. He licks his lips nervously and looks away from you, into the water.

“And you’re going to hate me after that. Because this is all I can offer you.”

You stand stunned, staring. Because he’s right, and you know he’s right. There is no scenario that plays out with a happy ending. There is no way he can be all the things you want him to be. His honesty is simultaneously reassuring and disappointing.

“I know that,” you say softly.

He looks back at you.

“Now you don’t say things you don’t mean,” he says tightly, throwing your words back at you. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear with shaking fingers.

“I’m a big girl, Namjoon. I understand what you’re saying,” you say quietly. “I understand this isn’t going anywhere.”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, looks a bit pained at hearing you spell out the situation so plainly. But at this point, there’s nothing to do but call a spade a spade.

“And I want you to kiss me anyway,” you finish.

The look in his eyes when he turns back to face you steals your breath. Whatever he’s been holding back these past months, whatever thin grasp of control he’s maintained around you is gone. He takes your hand firmly in his large grasp.

“Let’s go.”

**********************************

The walk to his room is a blur.

You have the presence of mind to put one foot in front of the other, but that’s about it. Between the wine pulsing through your veins and the thoughts running through your mind, you couldn’t testify in court as to how you got here.

The space is perfectly cozy, tastefully decorated, and you are glad for the fire burning in the hearth at the center of the bedroom. Namjoon doesn’t bother with the lamps -- there’s enough heat and glow coming off the flames to make up for the lost light.

He hasn’t let go of your hand since you walked together off the beach. Your hand feels small and cold inside his warm grip and the tiny part of your brain that’s still functioning properly is working overtime to commit the feeling of his skin on yours to memory, afraid to let this moment come and go too quickly. The moment the door latches securely behind you, Namjoon leads you to a massive, ornate four-poster bed.

He drops down, sitting on the edge of the plush mattress and pulls you in close with his hands. You stay on your feet, watching the firelight dance across his body, heart pounding so violently you can feel it pulsing at the base of your throat. You wonder if he can tell how nervous you are.

He brushes a piece of hair out of your face, lets his fingertips linger for a moment before tipping his head up to touch his lips to yours.

You stop breathing.

Never in your life have you waited this long to kiss someone, never have you anticipated a kiss more than the one you’re getting right now. His full, soft lips are even better than your imagination — his woodsy, clean scent intoxicating. You can taste wine on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and uses his hands against your back to pull you even closer.

“Take this off,” he urges against your mouth, tugging at the bottom of your sweater. You shudder at his quiet command but comply instantly, pulling the garment over your head. The moment you’re left in just a bra and jeans, he pulls back, assessing you with a heavy-lidded gaze. You step closer, slotting your knee in between his thighs and reach behind yourself to take apart the closure of your bra.

The warmth of the fire can’t stop the shiver that courses through you when he runs his palms up and down your back, burying his face in the soft skin between your breasts. He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses up that path, and you let your head drop back at the sensation.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs against your skin, nuzzling your breast before taking one aching nipple into his mouth. Your hips jerk at the sensation and his hands come back down to your waist to keep you steady.

You thread your fingers into his hair, sighing out your satisfaction as he takes his time about tasting you. You can’t help the soft whine that escapes your throat when he turns his attention to your other nipple.

“You don’t know,” you gasp as his teeth drag gently over the sensitized bud, “how long I’ve wanted you to do this. How many times I’ve thought about this.”

You feel rather than see his answering smile against the swell of your breast. From where you stand, anchored against him, you can also feel his answering hardness in his jeans. He groans when you lean forward to push against it.

“You need to take off some clothes, too,” you say.

“I do,” he admits, dragging himself away from you long enough to pull his own sweater and undershirt overhead. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of his strong, muscled chest and you lean forward to run your hands across the defined planes.

“You are so beautiful,” you sigh, leaning closer to kiss him again. His hands slip down to the button of your jeans to start working them off.

“You keep stealing all my words,” he laughs, pushing your jeans down your hips and watching as you kick them off.

Under other circumstances -- with other men -- you’d be feeling self-conscious right about now. But not with Namjoon. He rubs his fingers across his mouth and leans back to take in the view. The way he’s looking at you, drinking you in, tells you everything you need to know about what he’s thinking right now.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” you say finally, interrupting the too-long silence.

Namjoon’s eyes snap up to your face like he’s just come out of a trance and he immediately gets to work. He leaves his boxers on, cock straining heavily against the expensive cotton and you consider complaining but in the next moment he’s pulling you down on the bed, covering you with his large, warm body and all other thoughts evaporate.

He overwhelms you from this angle, weighty and firm on top of you, his scent on you, his breath in your ear. You slowly draw your hands up his back, enjoying the play of his muscles underneath your fingertips. You admire the corded strength in his arms as he braces himself just above you and drops his face into the crook of your neck. His teeth gently tease the sensitive skin there, lips and tongue moving into the dip of your collarbone as his hands skim down your sides.

His thumbs hook into the band of your panties and he pulls gently but doesn’t take them off.

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth warm against the shell of your ear. You want to laugh at the absurdity. The promise of his hands on you, inside you is the only thing tethering you to sanity right now. You exhale a shaky breath, and manage a thin “God, yes.”

He slips the flimsy fabric down your legs, pressing kisses down your torso and abdomen -- so close to where you are aching for him -- wet between the legs and throbbing for his touch. He sucks a gentle bruise into the soft skin just above your mound.

“This is all I can think about right now,” he murmurs, moving lower. “Tasting you here -- “ he says, gently pushing one of his fingers inside your heat. You can only moan your reply, nerves shot at the feeling of this welcome invasion. You know how wet you must be right now, could feel the slippery mess between your thighs before he even made contact. He sinks his mouth down onto your center as he licks a thorough and unhurried stripe directly over your slit. Your hips buck involuntarily and he uses those impossibly large hands and long fingers to keep you still — to keep you from shying away from the sharp pleasure.

“Better than I imagined,” he whispers against your thigh before turning back to bury his face in your wet warmth again.

You are mewling now, uttering nonsense and he seems satisfied with your response, sucking and licking harder -- spurred on by the nonsensical praise falling from your lips.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, twisting the fingers of one hand into his hair while the other claws uselessly at the sheets.

He groans, using both his hands to firmly cup under your ass and drag you closer to his mouth. You cry out at the change in the angle and open unfocused eyes to look down at him. He’s savoring you like you are a rare delicacy, and you very nearly come apart at the sight of his beautiful face between your thighs.

“No one here but us. Let me hear you,“ he murmurs, purposely bumping your clit with his nose and using the flat of his tongue to soothe the sensitive nub directly afterwards. You stop trying to muffle your cries and your hips seem to move of their own volition, rolling against Namjoon’s tongue in a desperate search for relief. You can’t help the strangled moans you’re making, can’t stop the thrum of pleasure pulsing heavy in your core.

“Please, Namjoon,” you whimper, “I’m so close.”

“I’m not going to stop,” he soothes, slipping two fingers back into your warm heat. You keen from the stimulation inside and out. “I’m not going to stop until you come for me.”

The throb between your thighs sharpens to a point and then shatters. Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm starts to detonate, and you hear him whispering praise as he licks you through it, not stopping the tortuous slide of his tongue and lips until he’s certain he’s wrung every last drop of pleasure.

“Oh my God,” you whisper when the roaring in your ears starts to subside, and you smile at his answering laugh.

You are sedated — utterly loose-limbed as he makes his way back up your body and immediately sets his teeth to the lobe of your ear. You let your eyes fall closed for a moment just to enjoy the warmth of his body on yours, the feeling of his mouth in the crook of your neck. You realize that at some point, he’s shed his boxers and now his cock is hard and insistent against your leg. You reach for him.

He releases a long breath when you wrap your hand around him and give him an experimental stroke. You watch him watching you with heavy-lidded eyes as you work your hand up and down his length for a moment, enjoying the answering pulse of his excitement under your grip and the way his eyes fall shut.

“I want to make you feel as good as you just made me feel,” you whisper.

You want to taste him so badly, want to know his flavor and feel the weight of him on your tongue — but the moment you start to move in that direction he grabs your hand to stop you.

“You can’t”, he groans. “I’m going to come before I ever get inside you if you don’t stop.”

The thought stills you because stupidly, you haven’t even thought about protection.

“Namjoon, I don’t have anything,” you say quietly. He quirks an eyebrow at you, missing your meaning.

“A condom.”

He rolls over on his side and produces a packet from the drawer of the ornate wooden bedside table.

Thank God one of you has your head on straight.

You gaze at him as he gets up on his knees, cock rigid and straining into the air. Flickering light from the fire dances across his chest and thighs and you have the presence of mind to commit the image to memory because you’ve never seen anything more beautiful in your entire life.

“I want you,” you breathe, “So badly.”

If you weren’t already ridiculously turned on — already alarmingly aroused — the look that passes over his face would have been your undoing.

But you’re well past that point by now.

He slips the condom on and moves to cover your body with his once again and you welcome the pressure of his weight hovering over yours. You feel the head of his cock nudge your entrance and your entire body tenses in anticipation.

”I’ve been driving myself crazy for months,” he says, dipping down to steal a kiss. “Thinking about you like this. Fantasizing about having you.”

You lift your hips, desperate to connect the part of you that’s aching to the part of him that can relieve the ache. “Don’t think about it anymore,” you challenge. “Do it.”

He exhales something that sounds like a half-laugh, half-groan and sinks into you agonizingly slow. You can’t help the whimper that escapes at the deep stretch. He feels huge and the fullness and friction are almost too much given how sensitive you are from your orgasm. He pauses for a moment when he’s fully seated inside.

”Are you alright?” he whispers into the shell of your ear and you feel a shudder run the length of your body at the onslaught of sensations.

“Yes,” you whimper. “So good. Please -- “

You don’t have to finish that plea because he’s moving now, and what starts a few careful, experimental nudges quickly changes to deep, driving thrusts. Some desperate sound inside you escapes each time he bottoms out and you bring both your hands up to grip the tight muscles of his arms as though the contact can somehow steady you.

“Shit,” he groans, brow knit in absolute concentration. “You’re so tight, I -- “

You swallow his next words with a kiss -- a desperate, messy meeting of tongues and lips and teeth. You push your hips up to meet his each time he grinds back into you, savoring the pressure against your clit. Namjoon’s arms stay locked around yours, caging you in, but his head drops into the crook of your neck again. He is whispering frantically in Korean, blessings or curses you can’t be sure, but you can damned near hear the steady build of his orgasm in the tremor of his voice.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he groans, like it’s a bad thing, like he’ll somehow disappoint you for losing control so fast. Your hands reach up to his back, palms flat against the undulating muscle covered in a sheen of sweat. You can feel the strain as he tries to hold himself back, teetering on the verge of explosion and you want so badly to give him the release he’s craving.

You squeeze your inner muscles tight, buck harder to meet his now sloppy thrusts.

“Stop holding back. Come for me right now, “ you command, arousal bleeding through each tight word. “I need to feel you.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel him start to come on a particularly deep snap of his hips. The whispers in your ears build into shouts as his orgasm explodes, body shuddering with stimulation. You talk him through his release, whispering into his ear about how good he feels, how you’ve never wanted anyone else this badly.

He kisses the words off your lips as the steady pump of his hips slows to a stop.

You wait for him to sag against you, but instead your eyes pop open when you feel his weight lift off of you entirely.

“Wait --” you start, disoriented by the sudden parting.

Namjoon surprises you by immediately moving back down your body, dropping his head back to the space between your thighs. Any protest you were about to make dies in your throat when he wraps his full lips around your clit once again. The release you were certain had dissipated in the final moments of intercourse starts stirring again.

“Namjoon, I don’t think -- fuck,” you fail to complete a single coherent sentence as he feverishly works his lips and tongue back over your aching clit. You’ve never had back-to-back orgasms, you probably can’t come again so soon, and you want to tell him so but your mouth isn’t working.

“Yes you can,” he soothes, tongue insistent and hot against you. “And you will.”

You whine at the onslaught, too trapped in your own head to surrender to the sensations. Namjoon seems to sense it.

“Stop thinking.”

He growls the words into your core. The vibration from his low tone causes a ripple effect that jolts you out of your head and back into the moment.

“You’re so close I can feel it.”

Holy hell, this man.

His long fingers wrap possessively around your thighs, fighting back against your unconscious attempt to close your legs and escape the overstimulation. He holds you open, raw and senseless and doesn’t let you pull away from what he’s giving you.

There’s no slow, delicious build to this orgasm. It hits you like a bullet and your hands fumble through his hair as you soundlessly succumb to the sharp pleasure. Your body seizes as the release works its way from your core through every nerve ending. For a moment, you lose focus -- but your surroundings sharpen when you hear rather than see Namjoon stand up from the end of the bed to tie and toss the condom away.

You are wide-eyed, panting into the air when his weight dips the bed again and you feel him settle at your side.

You laugh.

Not a delicate giggle, not a sweet peal of laughter -- but a full-on, chest-heaving laugh. He’s silent for a moment before chucking himself.

“You okay?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, chest rising and falling rapidly. “What did you just do to me?”

You feel his answering smile against your skin when he drops his face into the crook of your neck for a kiss.

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” you tease. “I’m looking for a word that’s much better than good, but I can’t think straight. I’m going to have to get back to you later on that.”

He pulls you closer, skin on skin and you settle your head on his chest. You can hear the steady beat of his heart under your ear as your breathing calms. Your bodies are both slick with sweat and you shudder with a sudden chill as you start to feel the cool air inside this room. He reaches down and pulls the covers over your bodies. You both relax in the quiet, hearing the occasional pop from the flames in the fireplace.

“Namjoon?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are the people who work here?”

“I asked them to take the night off,” he admits, nosing your hair and inhaling deeply.

“So you...paid the staff to leave and made sure to have condoms on hand? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned to get me into bed tonight.”

He chuckles.

“I would have been...very stupid not to prepare for that possibility. I didn’t want to take the chance.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whisper into his chest, fingers drawing lazy circles across his skin.

There’s so much more you want to say, about how you feel and this entire situation but you’re afraid to ruin the delicate silence with an untimely reality check. You settle for quiet.

Minutes later, body limp with wine and exertion, your eyes fall closed.

*********************************************

You wake to the sensation of Namjoon’s nails running up and down your back.

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“There’s time,” he says, a non-answer. But you’ll take it. You pull away from him, stretch your sore limbs.

“Did you sleep?”

A tired smile passes over his face.

“No. I’ll get some sleep on the plane.”

The plane. You don’t want to think about that right now, don’t want to dwell on the fact that in a few short hours you’ll both be boarding flights to opposite sides of the globe. You shut your eyes and ward off the sad throb that sounds in your chest at the thought.

“Shower with me,” you say, climbing out of the massive bed. You take part of the sheet with you, wrapping yourself modestly as if this man hasn’t seen and touched every part of you intimately already. You hold a hand out in invitation and he accepts.

This picturesque bed and breakfast was once an old home. Instead of modern stone and high-end furnishings, the space is adorned with refinished hardwoods and tastefully selected antiques. The wood motif extends into the bathroom, where a spacious shower awaits.

Namjoon lets the water run for a moment until he’s certain it’s warm enough and you join him under the hot stream.

He doesn’t hesitate in backing you against the tile, pinning you against the shower wall with one knee as he blocks much of the falling water with his back and kisses you deeply. Droplets fall from his hair as he licks into you, hands roaming down to your waist and then lower. This time, you’re the one to reach out and still his hands when you feel his fingers warm and probing on your wetness.

“No,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his and pushing him back. He pulls away from you, breathless.

“Let me touch you,” you murmur. “Let me take care of you.”

You go up on your toes to kiss the slow smile that comes over him.

“I can do that,” he breathes.

You grab for the soap and he bends down to allow you to lather his hair. You run your nails lightly against his scalp and enjoy the groan you earn as you massage his head in earnest. Then you take your time about lathering his body, reveling in the way his skin feels under your fingertips. His muscles twitch in response as you work your hands down his broad chest, across his back, down to the firm roundness of his ass. He leans his body toward the shower wall, locking his arms to keep upright and caging you in.

You fill your hands with soap again and then steal a kiss when you wrap one searching hand around his cock, already hard and throbbing. You finally have a chance to appreciate how firm and large he feels under your fingertips, and your core throbs at the memory of him inside you. He hums his appreciation into your mouth as you work your hand up and down the rigid length, your enjoyment coming from watching his.

“You are like a statue,” you whisper. “Like a work of art, but the real thing. Just --” you pause for a moment to look down and take in the sight of your fingers working up and down his cock, “ -- incredible,” you manage to finish.

You sink down to your knees, use your hands to rinse him off and peer up against the falling water to steal a look at his face. His eyes are heavy, lips parted as you tentatively touch your tongue against him. They fall completely shut when you slip the head of his cock into your mouth.

His thighs tense under your palms as you pull him in deeper.

“Shit.”

You can barely hear his groan over the sound of the falling water, but something about his tone sends a shiver down your spine. Your knees are starting to protest against the hard shower floor but you can’t be bothered to consider them when you take him down as far as you can go. Namjoon makes a broken sound deep in his chest when you pull off of him, breathless.

“That feels so good,” he croaks, arms still braced against the shower wall.

His praise motivates you to work harder -- when you sink your mouth back down on his cock this time, you use your hands to stroke any part of him you can’t reach. Your mouth and hands fall into rhythm, working him with your fingers and tongue until you can see the muscles in his legs and thighs twitching.

“I’m close,” he groans, head hanging low between his shoulder blades as you pull your mouth away again to get a good look at him. Both of your hands work his cock in the absence of your mouth, stroking and cupping him and keeping him right at the precipice because you know he’s close. He looks ready to burst.

You wait for him to open his eyes, then meet his hot gaze with one of your own.

“Let me taste you,” you say, immediately taking him back down as deep as you can go. You can feel the tension in his hips, sense that he’s dying to rock into your mouth even further but he’s holding back. You cup his ass with your hands and give him a gentle push, silent permission to let go and surge into you. The moment he realizes you’re asking him to give more -- to lose a little bit of control -- he does, thrusting gingerly into your mouth. It only takes a few more thrusts for his rhythm to falter, for his hips to stutter and you brace for his release.

“Fuck, I -- “ his words are choked as he tries to pull away from the inviting wet warmth of your mouth, but your hands grip harder on his ass, refusing to let him off the hook. He is panting, body taut with tension when he finally stops resisting and the groan that starts deep in his chest when he starts to come is the single sexiest sound you have ever heard in your life. His hips jerk and you struggle to remain upright the moment you start to taste his release on your tongue, hot and thick.

You can’t take all of him, not with the water pouring down on you at the same time. You need to breathe. You pull away and sag against the shower wall.

Namjoon falls to his knees in front of you, pulling you roughly into his chest and kissing you so hard you’re forced to break away for air again.

“I can’t breathe,” you laugh against his mouth.

“Neither can I,” he smirks.

You sit together on the shower floor like that for a while, chests heaving and skin to skin.

“I still need to get clean,” you say after a moment. “We’ve wasted enough water as it is.”

He stands then, offering his hand to help you to your feet and then he returns the favor — lathering and massaging you from head to toe and helping you rinse off when he’s done.

When you both slip back under the sheets you are clean, bodies warm and sated. And this time, you both get some sleep.

*****************************

You jam your bag into the overhead compartment before settling heavily into your seat. Thankfully, this flight is damned near deserted and you’re not having to arm wrestle some stranger for your personal space. You pop your earbuds in but don’t turn any music on, just let your eyes fall shut for a moment of silence.

This is the first time you’ve been completely alone with your thoughts since you said goodbye. He’d fucked you once more just as the sun was starting to stream in through the cracks in the curtains, so tender and slow it brought tears to your eyes. You’d laid in bed as long as you could, silent and thinking -- until it was no longer possible to avoid the inevitable.

Of course, you’d walked into this arrangement with eyes wide open, but that didn’t mean the thought of him on a plane back to Seoul right now didn’t make your chest ache. That didn’t dull the sting of the realization that you’d never see him again.

When the flight attendant passes by, you order a mimosa. You’d really prefer something a bit stronger but it’s before noon and you think asking for the vodka tonic you really want could earn you a look at this hour of the day. Alongside the booze, you add distraction to your list of coping mechanisms and splurge on in-flight wifi. You refuse to be left alone to your own devices -- to simmer in your self-pity. Instead, you’ll marinate in champagne and orange juice and scroll mindlessly through apps and websites.

You’re three mimosas deep when your eyes start to droop. There’s no one in the seat behind you, so you feel comfortable leaning back in full recline. You angle a few pillows for comfort, pull a blanket over your chest and shut your eyes.

You’re in that hazy space between awake and asleep when you feel your phone buzz at your side.

Instantly, you’re alert again when you read the message on your lockscreen.

i need to see you again [ 12:47 PM ]

please [ 12:47 PM ]

#namjoonsmut #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #rm bts #rm x reader #btssmut #bts fanfic #bts

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years ago

Note

Six Sentence Sunday, please?

My personal life has been really crazy, so I dug through the WIP archives to find this snippet I wrote. For background, I thought that, after Ethan got back from the Amazon in Book 2, he and Charlie would avoid each other until Charlie finally decided she wanted to talk to him. And this was that night...

Also, I’m super bad at the six sentence part, so here’s just a massive dump of basically the whole WIP. It’s got some cute banter & angst, naturally. If you’re a fan of With and Without, this was how they were supposed to become friends again, so it’s basically an alternate version.

Charlie unceremoniously sat beside him, feigning nonchalance and gripping her beer bottle like the liquid courage could seep through her skin and empower her to face her fears.

She hadn’t talked to Ethan Ramsey in weeks.

Of course, she’d spoken with him. They’d passed the occasional greeting and shared infrequent small talk. Their longest encounters were related to patients, often relaying facts and working through diagnoses, but none of these could ever be considered a conversation.

Until now.

Well, if she could manage to say the first word…

Every time she walked up to him, he wanted to say something more. He didn’t need to proclaim his love and beg her for forgiveness. He just wanted to know how she was. It didn’t take a master diagnostician to see the obvious shift in the young Dr. Greene after she returned from her temporary suspension.

“I have something to say to you,” Charlie breathed, picking at the edge of her beer bottle’s label, “Something I should have said a while ago.”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t like speaking to me,” Ethan ventured, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at her, and despite her attempts to dull her senses, her heart still skipped a beat.

“I don’t,” Charlie smirked, raising her bottle, “I’ve been drinking since my shift ended to get up the nerve.”

Her words stung Ethan deeply, but still, he smiled. He always smiled for Charlie…

“Better order you another before that wears off,” Ethan nodded towards her beer before waving over the bartender. He ordered another scotch for himself and a mojito for her, and Charlie’s face lit up in recognition. He remembered her favorite drink.

Charlie watched him carefully as if trying to disseminate all the complexities that had plagued her for months. In the hospital, it was easier to see him. His uniform was his battle armor and his stethoscope his sword, and with both, he was protected from the world around him. It was a very different sight than what she’d seen waking up in his bed, his hair disheveled and his smile sleepy. Those small details distinguished the two figures Dr. Ethan Ramsey embodied in her life – the cold, driven attending was Dr. Ramsey and the warm, enigmatic man she missed was Ethan. Only one of them had broken her heart, but it was in the name of the other.

Outside of work, it was harder to distinguish where Dr. Ramsey ended and Ethan began, and Charlie was left with the horrifying conclusion that there were no separate figures.

Ethan was Dr. Ramsey, and Dr. Ramsey was Ethan.

And both made her sad.

“Since your shift ended, you say?” Ethan casually checked his watch, “That’s about three hours. Beer the whole time?”

It was a stupid question, one that Ethan could hardly believe he even asked, but he was afraid to let it go silent for too long. He wanted her to talk to her more than he valued his dignity.

“No, actually,” a smile pricked at her lips, “A sad girl in a bar hardly struggles to find drinks.”

The mischievous glint in her eyes warmed Ethan’s body, even if his heart squeezed at the realization that he’d driven his bright, young Rookie to being a “sad girl in a bar.”

“Speaking of,” Charlie glanced over her shoulder, “there’s a fair chance that one of tonight’s bar friends might make another visit. I told him that I was married to get rid of him, so you might have to pretend to be Mr. Greene if he does.”

“Mr. Greene? Modern arrangement,” Ethan was smiling he realized suddenly. A real smile… had all it really taken was a bit of banter with Charlie?

“There are already two Dr. Greene’s in Edenbrook. Why not add another?”

Ethan laughed in response, bringing butterflies to Charlie’s stomach as she watched from the neighboring bar stool. For a while, she’d questioned how easily she’d fallen in love with him, chopping the whole experience up to adrenaline and fear, but sitting here, the theory held no water. If this is what it was like to watch him laugh, of course she loved him.

Charlie took a deep breath, thinking back to the speech she’d prepared all day and through every glass she’d sipped from at the bar. And then, she just made herself say it, “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Ethan was visibly taken aback, “Sorry?”

It was only one word, but it filled him with so much hope that he felt like it could overflow.

“For what?” Ethan prompted, careful not to put too much trust into one little word. It could mean everything, but it could just as easily mean nothing.

There were a million things Charlie was sorry for – drunk texting him that night, spending the weekend with him, getting her hopes up that it could ever last, falling in love with him, leaving in the middle of the night to avoid saying goodbye…

But instead she said, “I never treated you like my boss.”

“What?” Ethan retorted, “You’re kidding?”

Charlie softly shook her head, “If I treated you like my boss, I wouldn’t have texted you that night.”

Ethan’s body froze, suddenly aware that her sorry had been laced with regret.

“I don’t know how to talk to you now because I don’t know where to draw the line that I always crossed,” Charlie fiddled with her coaster, watching as the bartender delivered her new drink, “I always wanted to know more. I went out of my way to be your friend, and look where that got me.” Charlotte’s chuckle was bitter as she struggled to contain the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, “and doing that now…” she took a deep breath, “makes me sad.”

“I don’t know how to talk to you as just your resident,” Charlotte admitted, “Too much has happened for that. So, if I can, I want to talk to you as your friend again. Honestly, I think I miss how much of an asshole you were.”

and that’s the alternate reunion in With and Without. Now that I go back to it, I forgot how much I liked it...

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ravenbrenna09 · 5 years ago

Text

Jij Verliest - Chapter Three: Clip 2

master list previous

...

Zondag 18:25

When Robbe had seen the message pop up on his phone in the middle of his Saturday afternoon stream, it had taken nearly all of his willpower not to answer it right there. He had toyed with the idea—multiple times—of sending a message to Sander. But every time that Robbe typed up a message and nearly hit send, he would talk himself out of it and delete it altogether. Then, Robbe had seen the notification on his lock screen—earthlingoddity sent you a message—and, despite the fact that he had started the stream thirty minutes before, he had been ready to leap to the phone to respond.

Robbe managed to restrain himself from doing so, trying his best to focus on the stream and the chat while in front of the computer. Yet he didn’t even last an hour. Once his eagerness to read the message got the better of him, he announced that he was taking a break before immediately taking his phone in the other room. Despite the length of time that had passed between his text and Robbe’s response, Sander responded back immediately and their entire conversation made Robbe’s stomach swell.

So much so that he nearly forgot to go back to the stream.

From the moment that Robbe sat down at the table—the one next to the jukebox that Sander said he loved so much—he could feel the nervous bubble in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to meet Sander. It wasn’t the first time that he was alone with Sander. They had been short interactions, all interrupted by something or someone they couldn’t control, but they had been nice all the same. Yet he felt nervous; like he was sixteen all over again, heading out on his first date with the first guy he liked.

And it brought up another question—was this a date?

In every sense of the word, except for being labeled as such, it felt like a date. Robbe and Sander were two people meeting up at a bar to hang out, have a few drinks, and get to know each other. Since Wednesday, all of their conversations—especially their texts in the past 24 hours—had been flirtatious. Whenever Robbe thought about it, it felt like a date or, rather, a potential date. For all he knew, Sander simply wanted to hang out because they got along so well. Maybe he flirted with everyone.

When Sander arrived, dressed in a graphic shirt, a pair of skinny jeans that curved to his legs, and a blinding smile, Robbe felt his stomach clench a little. The bleach-blond headed over to the bar gracefully, where, as soon as he had stepped inside, the bartender had placed a beer on the counter. Sander waited until she served another then, moved to the table where Robbe was waiting and placed one of the glasses on the coaster in front of him.

“I hope a beer is okay,” Sander said, grinning at him.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Robbe replied, moving the glass closer to him.

There was a moment of silence that drew out in the space between them. It wasn’t like the silence that he experienced with Thomas, especially in the last months of their relationship, where it felt like someone was dragging their nails across a chalkboard. That silence was the kind that could make a minute feel like an hour, as Robbe teetered uncomfortably on scattered eggshells. With Sander, the silence felt warmer and more comfortable, as though both of them were unsure how to start, but there was an eagerness in the air like they couldn’t wait to begin.

Robbe took a sip of his beer, swallowing his nerves. “So,” he said. Sander glanced at him, raising his glass to his lips. Robbe searched for a question to ask, trying not to seem too invasive, before settling on. “How did you and Senne meet?”

“Let’s see,” Sander chuckled. There was a serious look on his face as he launched into the story. Robbe leaned forward to anticipation. “It was a month or two after he and Zoë split up. There was this little bakery near my apartment that I would always go to. One morning, I was rushing to get croissants for my step-mother as Senne was entering the store and you can imagine what happened.” Robbe laughed. “And, after that, we started talking when we were both in the store—the general stuff, studies, relationships. Then, we exchanged numbers. Once that happened, we were virtually inseparable and he quickly became my best friend.”

“That’s awesome,” Robbe commented. “I’m glad that he found a friend after leaving the flatshare.”

“Yeah, it’s been a fun time,” Sander said before asking, “Do you have a job on campus?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said. “I—” Robbe caught himself before he could continue, biting down on his bottom lip. Sander glanced up questionably and Robbe shook his head. “No, I don’t really have a job. My dad helps pay for my expenses and stuff.”

“That’s nice of him,” Sander said.

“Yeah, I think he might still feel guilty,” Robbe admitted.

“What for?”

As Robbe launched into the story about his father leaving his mother, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about the white lie that he had told Sander.

Over the past two years of streaming full-time, he had grown used to the upturned noses, uncomfortable looks, and snide remarks about how he should “grow up.” There were people in the world who didn’t believe that Robbe could make a comfortable living by playing games on the Internet or liked to voice their opinions on his life. While Robbe knew he couldn’t do it permanently, at least at his current level, Robbe never felt comfortable hearing people rip into what he loved. Generally, he avoided talking about it until he knew someone better.

When Thomas had found out, back in their second month of dating, Robbe had been worried that he would react that way. But Thomas had surprised him. He had wanted to learn more about Fortnite and watched his streams in between classes and studying. Thomas had been one of the rare exceptions of the people he dated in that regard. If Sander launched into a tangent about what he was doing to get money for bills and expenses, Robbe wouldn’t know how to feel.

“That sucks,” Sander said, pulling Robbe out of his thoughts. His companion was staring at Robbe as he traced the rim of his glass with his pointer finger, the silver band glinting in the light of the bar. “I never had to go through a divorce so I can’t imagine how heavy that must’ve been.”

“Yeah,” Robbe admitted. “When my dad left, my mom crashed. I tried my best to be there for her, but I knew there was only so much I could do. I resented him for leaving us and then for trying to take me away from her. But since then, we’ve managed to repair our relationship a little.”

“That’s good,” Sander said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s never going to be the way it was before,” Robbe said sadly. Seeing Sander’s soft gaze, those green eyes pointed directly at him, Robbe had to fight the blush growing on his cheeks and ducked his head down. “I don’t know. Sometimes I get nostalgic.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sander said. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. The song playing on the jukebox behind them ended and it let out a light buzz as it searched for a new song to play. Sander shrugged his shoulders as he turned to Robbe. “Sometimes I like to think about what might have happened if—”

Suddenly, a song broke out from the speakers. Sander cut himself off mid-sentence. For a second, it looked like something else washed over him. His head tilted back, letting out a content sigh, and Robbe simply watched him in curiosity. His eyes lingered on the beauty mark on his cheek and the mole on his neck. Then, as soon as it began, Sander snapped out of it and turned to him again. Robbe didn’t even register the embarrassment of being caught because Sander was speaking again, “Do you know David Bowie?”

“A little,” Robbe admitted.

Truth to be told, Robbe had heard of David Bowie before. One evening, Thomas had taken Robbe out to a small restaurant near the campus. While the two of them were talking, a song came on the radio that caused Thomas’s nose to twist up in disgust and a sneer covered his face. Soon after, Thomas had launched into a mini-rant about David Bowie and 80s music and how he hated the rift or the acoustic. Every time a particular song would come on, Thomas would launch into a discussion about it, ripping the song and its lyrics to shreds. Most times, Robbe would tune the majority of the rant out, trying to hone in on the song he hated so much. Since then, Robbe made sure to never bring up David Bowie or switch the station.

Even if he was enjoying the song.

“So,” Sander said, bringing him back. “By ‘a little,’ you mean ‘not at all.’”

“What? No, I do,” Robbe said, laughing.

“Okay,” Sander said, smirking at him. “Name three of his songs.”

“Okay, challenge accepted. Space Oddity,” Robbe listed off, holding up one finger. In the briefest of moments, Sander’s face lit up and his emerald green eyes somehow got brighter. “Life on Mars, and…” he trailed off, holding up a second finger. Robbe bit down hard on his lip, trying (and failing) to ignore the soft look on Sander’s face. “Ah, and Heroes.” As Robbe glanced over to him, the corner of Sander’s lips tugged up and Robbe leaned towards him. “How did I do?”

“Three out of three,” Sander said, grinning.

Robbe fist-pumped.

“I’m impressed,” Sander admitted, leaning toward him. “You don’t really strike me for a Bowie fan.”

“I’m not,” Robbe admitted. At his admission, Sander looked downright offended. Robbe felt his cheeks flush under Sander’s intense gaze and he quickly added, “At least, not really. I’ve heard a handful of his songs on the radio and I really liked them. But when it came to older music, specifically David Bowie, uh, my ex-boyfriend was always incredibly opinionated about it.”

There was a disgusted look on his face as Robbe took the final drink of his beer. “How opinionated?” Sander asked, curious.

“Bad opinionated,” Robbe admitted. He shrugged and leaned on the edge of the table. “Every time an 80s song would come on, he would launch into a rant about the acoustics or the lyrics of the particular song. I’m not sure if it was specifically 80s music, but that’s what he would say it was. And it would go on forever. From the way he was talking, you would have thought he was arguing a case in a courtroom, not talking about a song on the radio that he didn’t have to listen to.”

For a moment, Sander was quiet. His bright green eyes were staring at Robbe intensely, and Robbe couldn’t help the need to stare right back. As his brown eyes connected with Sander’s green ones, he felt the electric spark shoot through him again. Robbe bit down on his lip, refusing to look away as Sander continued. Then, Sander announced, “Well, your ex-boyfriend has bad taste.”

Robbe blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“What? He does,” Sander said, matter-of-factly. He twisted on his stool and grabbed his empty beer glass in one hand. Turning to Robbe, he held up one finger. “Firstly, he doesn’t like David Bowie or, as you say, ‘80s music,’ which is an automatic sign that he doesn’t have good taste.”

“I think your scale is a little biased,” Robbe said, grinning at him.

“Maybe a little,” Sander admitted, shrugging “But David Bowie is an amazing artist and what I wouldn’t give to have discovered him sooner.” Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “And, secondly,” Sander added, holding up a second finger. “He broke up with you, right? From our talk the other day, you didn’t seem to actually want to end the relationship.”

“Yeah,” Robbe whispered. “He was the one that wanted to break up.”

“There you go,” Sander stated. He reached toward Robbe, grabbing the empty glass out of his hands. Robbe looked at him as Sander leaned closer to him, grinning from ear-to-ear. “No one with a good sense of taste would walk away from you. Your ex broke up with you. Therefore, even if he did like David Bowie, he couldn’t have good taste.”

Robbe swallowed, his stomach swelling unexpectedly. As his brain struggled to keep up with what Sander had just said, Robbe found himself struggling to keep the heat from rising to his cheeks.

With a knowing look in his eyes, Sander held up the glass that Robbe had relinquished. “Did you want a refill?”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. When his voice cracked a little, he swallowed again. Thankfully, his voice didn’t crack as he added, “Yes, I would like a refill. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sander grinned, sliding off the stool with ease. “I’ll be right back.”

Robbe nodded. As Sander moved to the bar, Robbe watched him without hesitation. Once Sander reached the bar and handed over the glasses, the bartender, an older woman with brown hair, quickly set to work with refilling the glasses. As the two of them talked, Robbe couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sander. Even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, Robbe couldn’t stop thinking about Sander and his confession. Quickly, Sander glanced over at him and smiled once he saw Robbe was looking.

Without thinking, Robbe returned the smile before shifting his attention elsewhere. As he focused on the nearby television, which was playing a football game, Robbe let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves as one thought ran through his mind. Now, it definitely felt like a date.

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